The Elder's Curse Andrew Walbrown (red scrolls of magic .TXT) 📖

joined the others on the balcony, happy Mazargo’s clumsiness during their first trial had ultimately helped them in the end.

When Ulam reached the balcony Amantius stepped forward and hugged his foster-brother, slapping him on the back. “You lied.”

Ulam pulled back, a frown on his face. “About what?”

“You said we would see each other at the top,” Amantius pointed up, “there’s another opening up there. We’re not at the top.”

Located directly above them was another large opening carved into the face of Kuruk’s Tower, the same size and shape as the one they used to step onto the balcony. Unlike the surface near where they stood, the black marble above was heavily damaged, where long ago a great inferno blazed with such ferocity that it melted the surrounding stone. Ulam knew that only dragon’s fire could burn with that much magnitude, the thought of which sent tremors down his spine.

“That must be where the Matriarch fought Kuruk,” Kona said. “Any thoughts on how to get up there?”

“Hmmm, what has Mazargo found?”

In one of the corners, Mazargo stood beside a switch decorated with glowing green letters. Before anyone could stop him, the Mwai mage pulled on the handle, causing a cacophony of rumblings and screeches to sound below them. Suddenly the balcony began to shake like an old wagon, the swaying reminding Ulam of being on the deck of a ship. Then the balcony shot upward, causing everyone to fall on their hands and knees; the sudden ascension taking them all by surprise.

Within seconds they were at the top, where only the frame of Kuruk’s Tower survived the blast of dragon’s fire. The balcony stopped at the entrance to another chamber, though unlike the one on the floor below, there was no visibility within its walls. The faint perfume of smoke drifted in the air, forever ingrained into the walls and floor. To Ulam, the smoke smelled different somehow, as though fragments of something foul still lingered in the ashes. It was clear to him that the Matriarch’s fire-breath not only mutilated the outside of Kuruk’s Tower, but it penetrated deep inside as well.

“Is there anything left?” Ulam asked, squinting so he could see further into the chamber before him. “Could anything withstand such a blaze?”

“After everything we have seen,” Amantius began, “I wouldn’t be surprised if, as soon as we walk in, there’s no damage whatsoever. I also wouldn’t be surprised if the floor falls out from underneath us because the structure is too weak. Who the hell knows with this place?”

Ulam grunted. “True.”

“Come,” Kona said, taking the lead, “we need to find Kuruk’s powerstone.”

Kona, Amantius, and Mazargo entered the chamber, all of whom vanished as soon as they stepped off the balcony. Their sudden disappearance initially gave Ulam some cause for concern, though deep inside he had expected there to be some kind of deception awaiting them. After all the trickery and dark sorcery he had seen within Kuruk’s Tower, Ulam would have been disappointed if the top of the tower was completely devoid of magic.

Instinctively Ulam readied his axe; he wanted to be prepared in case some profane monstrosity awaited him on the other side. He called out to the others, but his shouts were met with silence. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind behind him, he heard nothing else. Just as he was about to step into the invisible barrier Amantius reappeared, a concerned look stretched upon his face.

“You won’t need the axe, there are no monsters in there,” he said, his voice serious, “but there is one surprise.”

“What?”

Amantius shook his head. “You have to see for yourself.”

Ulam followed his foster-brother inside and was instantly taken aback by what he saw. He stood in a lavish hall, brightened by the glimmering of a thousand lights fueled by some unknown magic. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling while red silk curtains covered each window. Rows of locked glass cases protecting ancient scrolls aligned both sides of the room, while paintings of various beasts and locales were fixed upon the walls.A carpet trimmed in gold stretched from the balcony to the far end of the chamber, where both Mazargo and Kona stood, staring at something. All Ulam could see was the crest of a throne, golden with dual lions carved into the framework at the top. He wondered how any of this could have emerged from a blast of dragon’s fire unscathed, marveling at the limitless power of magic.

“Did they find the powerstone?” Ulam asked as he approached the throne with Amantius.

“Yeah,” Amantius replied sheepishly, “and something else too.”

What else?

When they arrived Mazargo and Kona parted, letting Ulam and Amantius through. As soon as Ulam laid eyes on the unexpected discovery his heart stopped, the blood in his veins turning ice-cold as he remained frozen still. His eyes grew large and his mouth hung open, even breathing became rather difficult. On the floor before him was a long bloodwood staff with the powerstone wedged into its frame, sparkling the color of amber. But for all its beauty, the staff was not what captured everyone’s attention. Instead, what lay beside the staff was far more interesting.

“Is that Kuruk?” Kona said. “He was…”

“An Orc…” Ulam muttered. “Is this real?”

Amantius shared a gaze with Kona. “We all see it, so I guess this is real. But this tower has many surprises, so who knows.”

A surge of emotions overwhelmed Ulam, ranging from anger to happiness to sorrow. For so many years he had searched for another Orc, accepting he was the only one in the world, fated to live a lonely existence. Then after more than two decades of researching, seeking, and hoping, the only Orc he found was dead, laying half-burned at the top of a tower in the middle of nowhere. To make matters worse, this Orc had been a dark mage who used his powers in hopes of conquering the world, causing the deaths of countless innocents.

“Are you alright?” Kona asked. “You look pale.”

“Yes, sit down,” Mazargo said as he