At first, Daedalus thought his mind was playing tricks, but he looked again and it was still there. Seated next to Adrius upon the dragon’s but was a second person, and what’s more they appeared to be transparent. He’d heard of this but never seen it. Some books, mostly autobiographies and the like, could be used to summon their writers or facsimiles thereof even centuries after their deaths.
This person, Daedalus surmised, was such an entity. Now they had to find out what book had been used to summon them. Just who was this phantom from the past?
He wasn't sure exactly when the battle had turned, but somewhere in the chaos of the fight the enemy had begun to make advances. Likely it was seeing their fearless leader into the fight that roused their fighting spirit.
Whatever it was, Daedalus fell back, summoning fierce winds to prevent them from following him. Men were blown into the air with winds like a hurricane, for it was a description of a hurricane that he read to produce the effect.
Brendan Glaber, Alden Calemis, Gerald, and countless others human and non-human fought beside him. Their vulnerable were safe with Gedra guarding them, and the battle raged on.
It struck him almost in passing that he didn't see Madge anywhere in the battlefield. He scanned the area again, wondering when she slipped out of sight. He didn’t have long to ponder this, as just then a strange and terrible thing began to happen. All of the surviving soldiers doubled overs, looking to be in remarkable pain. And then their bodies beg to grow, muscles becoming massive, legs growing longer. When the changes finally subsided, a small army of massive eight foot tall brutes got to their feet.
Daedalus wanted to stand, to fight, but he knew he needed to fall back to the sewer entrance with Gedra. A tactical retreat, not running away. His mind wandered to Madge, and he wondered where she was and just what she was planning.
Madgera Creshook
If you know how, moving unseen through chaos can be done. Madge had done this sort of thing before, in training and in the field. She took advantage of the chaos, and the fact that no one was watching any particular person, and if you kept moving you could sometimes avoid a fight this way.
She found her way out of the fighting, and oriented herself. It wasn’t far. She had to get to the library. She had to find out what they’d done so far to her books.
The library had clearly been at least partially ransacked already. Here on the lower level it looked as though every fifth book or so had been removed to gods know where.
She went directly to her quarters, and went to a spot near the foot of her bed. Kneeling down, she pulled up a loose floorboard.
Inside were books, but not just any books. They were the personal journals of the scholars of the spire. They had put some of themselves into these books. And she needed their help. Reading without help took time for her, and she had precious little time to waste.
She was looking for a specific journal. After much searching, she found the personal journals of Masona Braesome. Madge smiled to think that even after death her late student could help to defeat her killer.
Madge did not read aloud. Instead she held the book and ran her fingers over the indentations made by The writer's pen. As each word came to her within her mind, she went away inside herself.
Something else took hold of her body, consciousness imbued into the words. It was Maesona Braesome, as she was when she wrote this journal, again breathing, though through new lungs. Mostly she sat quietly, but within her subconscious, two beings manifested a shared reality, a study with a well-stocked library and comfortable seating for two.
In one of the two well upholstered chairs sat Madge. Here in the realm of the mind, she was not blind nor deaf. Such physical shortcomings did not affect mental projections. She sat leaned forward with her forearms resting on the small reading table staring directly across it at the seated figure of Masona Braesome.
"Teacher, it's good to see you," she said. This copy of Masona wouldn't know of the fate that had befallen the woman herself. Soon she would find out.
"I need your help, and I cannot ask you outside of here. The city is besieged. Many were lost in the fighting, and you among them."
People make the strangest facial expressions when you tell them that they died. "I see. So what is it you need from this newborn ghost?" She was visibly shaken, reacting exactly the way Masona would have at the time she had written this journal.
Madge had neither time nor inclination for small talk. "You were one of the finest fencers among the scholars. You were the sword instructor for any youths among the apprentices seeking to channel their adolescent aggression through swordplay. You fought Adrius Sebora and lost. Given a second chance, and help, could you beat him?"
The younger woman's answer was a devilish grin. "we'll know after the fight."
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
With Madge’s hand Masona shut the journal and Madge returned to her own mind and body. Madge ran to the third floor and a book about making and setting off fireworks.
With this in hand she returned down the stairs and out the front door of the library. Silas was waiting outside for her, looking harried by the fighting. She greeted him and asked him where in the sky the dragon was flying. She told him to read a section from the book about constructing a rocket, and one materialized.
Silas aimed the rocket at the dragon, which was currently raining fire upon the battlefield and burning both sides. Next, she told silas to read the passage about launching a rocket and he did. As he read, the fuse lit itself and began to burn. Silas adjusted aim hurriedly once more, adjusted the angle of the rocket slightly and stepped away, and then the rocket roared and launched itself towards the dragon. Two thirds of the way there the rocket exploded with a mighty crack like thunder and a wonderful, brightly colored explosion of sparks, directly in the dragon’s face.
The dragon turned from what it was doing, and angled its head toward where the rocket had come from. It stared at Madge and Madge stared at it. For a moment Neither of them moved, and then the dragon launched itself toward them. She urged silas to create and fire another rocket. Aim for the wings!
It took almost eight seconds to read the required passages, and when there’s a fire breathing dragon flying toward you with death in its eyes, that is a long time.It worked to their advantage, for by the time they had the rocket ready the beast was right on top of them. The rocket flew and collided with the drake’s wing, and tore through it. The monster limped to the ground, barely able to fly at all. It hissed and roared, full of rage and frustration at its injury. Adrius kept his seat with impressive skill.
The beast fell in a heap in the plaza in front of the library. Adrius was thrown from the beast’s back, and landed with a roll, coming smoothly to his feet.Every fighter on the scholars’ side who saw the dragon fall rushed toward the place where it had fallen. The dragon struggled back to its feet and roared a threat at the approaching fighters, human and otherwise. And beside it, Adrius stood with his sword in hand.
Madge saw him and opened Masona’s journal, reading a passage where she’d recorded a session of her fencing practice. A semi-corporeal sword with a translucent blade that almost seemed liquid, as though formed of liquid mercury took form in Madge’s hand, and again Masona experienced the waking world. This time Madge was with her, guiding her as best she could. The two moved and fought as one. For that moment, in that battle, Madgera Creshook saw with her own eyes for the first time in nearly 3 decades.
The strange, semi-real sword in one hand, masona and madge launched their shared body toward Adrius.It was somehow appropriate that Adrius be the first thing she sees, he being the reason she lost it.They darted toward him, attacking with the sword once, twice three times, each blow turned away by Adrius, who responded with a powerful overhead stroke which Madge dodged and struck out towards Adrius’s face. Adrius pulled away at the last possible minute, escaping with a sizable slash on his cheek.
Adrius put a hand to his cheek. It was not so terrible to have scars, and this would be neither his first or last. His dragon was fighting a veritable swarm of monstrous creatures which were beginning to wear the beast down. His personal battle was going poorly,and the assault at large was in serious trouble.the translucent man looked to Adrius.
“I would advise a tactical retreat. We’ve had many casualties.” He looked as he said it to where the firedrake fought its doomed last battle. It was already skewered with three spears who’s wooden hafts jutted from the beast’s side along with numerous arrows, like the quills of a porcupine.
Alden Calemis was the last warrior to face the dragon, and he wielded yet another spear. The dragon eyed him warily. Adrius knew that by then it was too late to help. Alden struck out with the spear, but the dragon accepted the wound, and went right for Alden, biting into his neck and killing him with its dying breath. Adrius gave a rallying cry to his troops, directing them to converge on him and retreat from the city.
They marched through the city and out into the badlands beyond, where a large part of their force was waiting in reserve. There they made a sprawling sort of camp. The greater force of the Seborati army was arrayed outside Last Bastion, beyond the walls surrounding the city, stretching as far as the eye could see.
Madge took a deep, steadying breath. She allowed herself to feel the joy of victory.It was short lived. A cry went up, people shouting that there was smoke rising from another of the Bastion cities,just north of Last Bastion. It was the City of Bread, where all the food for the cities was grown. While the fight drew attention, a smaller team must have been dispatched to set fire to the grain fields there.
Silas bellowed orders for someone to get him a situation report on how much was burning, and to get numbers on how many they lost in the fighting. He looked to edge of the city, and he could just see the enemy ary over the walls, holding position for now. Just what were they planning now?
Word came back not long after. The fire was not as bad as it could have been but it did take out almost a fifth of the food supply for the cities. They would need to get out into the world somehow, to find countries not allied with Seborati and establish trade. Madge shared her thoughts on this with Silas.
"I don't really know how we would do that," Silas said. "The only place on the outside we can open a doorway to beyond the Badlands is the enemy capitol."
"So we will have to find a new way beyond the badlands," Madge said. "Perhaps our new friends know things about the Badlands that we do not. It has been their home for all of this time." She told Silas to help her find a representative of the badlanders to whom she could speak.
Silas said that he could not because he did not know any of them but he did know someone who did. He went out to look and a short while later returned beside a young man in his early twenties, the first wisps of beard only just appearing on his chin. Madge recognized his less than energetic presence and greeted Gerald Gorral.
Gerald had a different air about him now, having distinguished himself well in battle, and having brought the badlanders to their side. He was now something of a hero to the scholars of the spire and the badlanders both. “I think I can convince them to speak with you, but only if I am present.” Madge agreed to this at once.
Gerald and Madge walked from the library plaza out into the crowd of still gathered combatants, searching for the Matriarch, which is what they’d taken to calling the tall long horned ibex-like creature he’d negotiated with to bring the badlanders into the fight.
The Matriarch raised her hands to sign a greeting when they found her, but screwed up her face in shock when Madge greeted her in her mind.She responded belatedly and in strangely broken sentences. This was her first time thinking in words since she was human. “This… is strange.”
“I am sorry for the strangeness. I cannot communicate otherwise.”
“I will learn. The fight was hard won.”
“The fight is not over,” madge responded. “The enemy has just switched strategy. Our food is burning, and they are still just outside our walls, planning something. We need to get beyond the wastes. Do you know the way?” The Matriarch made a quizzical face before answering.
“The Wasteland is vast, but it has end,” she responded after a moment. “It is a place we fear, and avoid. We know how to live here, mean as our lives are. We are a desert people, and will remain so,”
“Don’t you ever dream of more? Won't you at least show us the way?”
It was a long time before the Matriarch said, “Nothing good will come of this but you will only ask again if I say no. And when I was human I always dreamt of more. It did not make my life then better than my life now. I am blessed to be a guide to my people.”
“And I am asking you to help me to guide mine.” The matriarch regarded Madge for a moment, taking measure of this strange, bold woman.
“We will help you once more, and for this we become citizens of the bastion cities, free to come and go as we please.” Madge groaned inwardly thinking of the battle it would be to convince the scholars to accept the badlanders as neighbors after 30 years of hate and fear. But today was a good start in the right direction.
And so, as the dead still littered the streets, and the Seboran forces began hauling in lumber through large doorways to build siege equipment, and smoke from the grainfields filled the air, the scholars began to plan their next move. Madgera Creshook put a hand to her temple and massaged away a growing migrain.