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

mysterious voice wielded dark magic by using my body as a medium. Perhaps when Mazargo is not looking, or when he is asleep, I can use the staff once again to speak to the wizard.

“So, is he dead?” Amantius asked as he walked up to the blood-stained throne, joining the rest of the group.

“No, he’s still breathing,” Kona replied. “But he doesn’t have much time left. If a regeneration spell kept him alive all these years, now that we have his powerstone I can’t imagine he will recover.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Mazargo agreed. He made for the exit, beckoning the others to join him. “Come, Mazargo wishes to leave this place.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Amantius muttered as he and Kona followed.

The three of them walked towards the levitating balcony, disappearing as soon as they passed through the barrier that masked the lavish hall. Only Ulam remained behind, staring at the moribund body of Kuruk the Dark Mage. He felt empty, the loneliness of being the only Orc in the world rapidly returning to him, now coupled with new frustrations. What did Kuruk know about the enchanted weapon Ulam carried, which he had called “Malzara’s Axe?” What did the dark mage find so interesting and unusual about the name “Ulam?” Those questions burned in his mind, and watching any hope of learning the answers die as Kuruk’s life waned left Ulam feeling far more crestfallen than at any other time of his life.

“Who am I?”

Chapter 20

Amantius

The air. It tastes so fresh and pure! Who knew you could miss something so simple?

Amantius exhaled as he escaped the mist cloaking Kuruk’s Tower, his lungs replacing poisonous fumes with the very essence of purity. The sun, which had been absent during his stay inside the tower, shined its bright beams down on the world, warming his skin. The sensation was so rejuvenating he ignored the perilous bridge he was walking upon, the same stone structure that gave him so much anxiety during the first crossing. Behind him, Ulam, Kona, and Mazargo exercised more caution while traversing the bridge, while to his front he saw the meadow where the dragonesses claimed they would wait. As Amantius left the lake behind him and entered the clearing he did not find Ushokku or Chulzi, only large swaths of trampled grass where they had once been.

“Mazargo sees no dragons,” the Mwai mage said as he joined him, his gloved fingers still wrapped around Kuruk’s staff. While Amantius could not deny the logic behind allowing the mage to hold onto the magical item, his unfamiliarity with Mazargo, as well as the very sight of the amber powerstone, left him unsettled. Even with Ulam privately vouching for Mazargo, Amantius still could not shake his concerns. He was grateful that Mazargo had helped Ulam overcome many dangers, but he could not help but speculate about the mage’s motives. Not only did he wonder about Mazargo’s wants and desires, but also why he was in Kuruk’s Tower in the first place.

“Why were you in the tower?” Amantius blurted out, the words sounding more accusatory than he had intended.

Mazargo stared into the sky, initially appearing to have ignored the question. But then he sighed, his ears turning downward. “Mazargo has his reasons.”

“Which are?”

“Personal,” Mazargo replied curtly. He then turned towards the bridge, helping Kona and Ulam onto solid ground. Just as a fresh wave of suspicion washed over Amantius, Mazargo returned, a jovial smile across his face. “Mazargo can see the distrust within you, and he understands. His goals do not oppose your own, he assures you; Mazargo just does not wish to share them with you at this time.”

Just then Kona appeared, squinting from the beaming sunlight as she looked around the glade. “Somehow I forgot how bright the sun is. Where are Ushokku and Chulzi?”

“No idea,” Amantius replied, “I’m guessing they grew tired of waiting for us.”

“I doubt that,” Kona objected, “we were only gone for half a day at the longest.”

How long were we in Kuruk’s Tower? Amantius wondered. The complete lack of natural light within the tower had disoriented his internal clock; there had been no distinction between a second, minute, or hour. They could have been in there for fifteen minutes, or ten years, and he would not have known the difference.

“We entered in the morning,” Amantius mused, “and now it is midday, guessing by where the sun is in the sky. So either we were inside Kuruk’s Tower for only a couple hours, or a little over a whole day.”

“A whole day?” Said a familiar voice. “Try an entire week.”

Emerging from a nearby thicket was a sight that shocked everyone: a tall, slender Elf with hickory brown hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a coronet of wildflowers, with petals of blue, white, and gold, fashioned from the blossoms in the meadow. Light pink remnants of a gash stretched across her forehead, though it was clear the wound was in the last stages of healing. Though her face was gaunt from an apparent lack of nutrition, there were no signs of lingering weakness.

“Wen!?” Amantius shouted, unsure if the person standing before him was actually Nilawen and not another illusion.

“Have I lost that much weight that you don’t recognize me?” Nilawen replied, frowning as she surveyed her arms and legs. “Well, it’s not my fault! You left me behind with such little amounts of food, not to mention I woke up surrounded by dragons! What the hell were you thinking!?”

Amantius broke into a run, laughing as he swept Nilawen into his arms, crushing her with a bear hug. After he put her back on the ground Ulam approached and gently hugged her, forever cognizant of his inordinate amount of brawn. Kona then joined them, checking the wound on Nilawen’s forehead, pleased to find the once nasty laceration had regressed into a mere scrape.

“So why are you here?” Amantius asked. “And there’s no way we were inside Kuruk’s Tower for a week; we