“You couldn’t tell me that my magic was only making the monsters stronger before I charged in?!” Ozahr shouted, not at all paying attention to the rapidly approaching monsters.

Nile shot a ribbon of golden sand at Ozahr that wrapped around his waist and yanked him away from the attack. The momentum carried Ozahr all the way to the center of the room where he landed in the dusty remains of an old fountain.

One attempt to stand up crumbled what was probably an ancient, fragile statue. If it was important, it should've been built better. A second attempt to stand up landed Ozahr’s sleeves right in some mucky, wet dirt. The broken fountain began spewing fresh water that quickly mixed with the sand and created an awfully gelatinous mud that insisted on sticking to anything it touched.

"You're lucky these aren't my clothes I'm wearing!" Ozahr called out to Nile, who was worried about bigger things than muddy clothes.

"Pay attention, Spell Knight!" Nile jumped away from the monsters and retreated to the fountain as well, splashing even more mud on Ozahr. His golden whips kept the creatures at bay, but every lash only angered them further.

While wiping the mud off his face, Ozahr noticed the marks on his arms were steadily evaporating. As gross as the cold mixture was, it soothed the burning flesh and even healed it.

Ozahr pulled on Nile's robes.

"What are you—" Nile lost his footing and fell backwards into the now watered down mud. He noticed the effect immediately and looked at his arm in wonder.

"How do you not know about the magical water in your own temple?" Ozahr questioned him.

"What? I wasn't aware of any such properties—" Nile's breath caught between his lips.

"What, what is it? You got a plan?" Ozahr swiped his free hand in the air for a quick barrier to avoid the whip of the monster tail he rode on earlier. Nile grabbed his other hand where the shackle weighed him down. At the touch of his hand, the stone crumbled to golden dust. So did the shackles on his legs.

"More of a realization, really," Nile replied as he stood up, dripping water that was now collecting at their ankles. "Spell Knight."

"Is this really the time to be formal?"

“I'm feeling better than I have in a long time thanks to your little water discovery,” he said with a certain triumph in his voice. It was one of the only emotions he's shown so far. "And now, I can finally conjure up enough magic to bring them down."

Ozahr, unsure if he was actually helpful somehow, asked, “Didn't you just say magic fuels them?”

“Not this kind of magic.” Nile pulled one foot back in the water and positioned his hands forward. "For this to work, I need you to swear your magic in my name."

The monsters stirred and gathered together. The flying one circled around them looking for an opening, while the twin monsters lept into each other and joined bodies once again. It shook its limbs and started crawling across the stone floor, dragging its heavy belly like a loose sack of flesh.

Ozahr rubbed his now free wrist while giving Nile a certain look with scrunched brows. "Swear my magic in your name? What does that even mean?" Who does he think he is, anyway?

"Swear loyalty and protection," Nile explained hastily, "and receive the same in return."

"Huh?!" Ozahr stood up and really gave Nile a look again. "You think mortal danger will make me forget that you kidnapped me? And now you're trying to force me into becoming your loyal body guard or something? Why don't you protect me instead, huh? I bet I'm stronger than you anyway!"

Wind began rising from where they stood. It rippled through the water, their robes, and through the long, golden strands of Nile's hair. A faint light shone beneath their feet.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Ozahr looked down, and in their reflection, Nile was holding a ball of pure golden light, only it did not appear in his physical palms. It was magic—no doubt about it. But Ozahr didn't feel even the slightest fluctuation of energy in the air.

He's only ever known one person who could use magic from within their own body. The teacher he could never beat.

"Spell Knight!" The reflection called.

Ozahr snapped out of his own head. The flying serpent-like monster opened its maw, splattering droplets of burning saliva across their faces.

"Fine, fine! I swear it!"

A breath of relief escaped Nile as he lowered his stance further. "Good enough."

The ball of light manifested in the air, swirling with intense magic yet never consuming the energy around them. It was engulfed in bright flames, almost too painful to look at, but Ozahr was willing to singe his eyes just to see how they behave.

The flying serpent was but an opaque black shadow when it lunged towards them. It swallowed the flaming ball, though its body could not contain its shine.

Nile, still in control of the orb, quickly redirected it towards the other beast. The monster shot its tongue out, but it grabbed onto the serpent and delivered the dangerous ball of energy right into its stomach. There was just a brief a moment of silence before the light ripped through its gelatinous flesh and sprayed its pieces across the room.

Hey, that was just like my move—As soon as Nile turned to Ozahr, he bowed his head. “I am humbled by the show of power, o’ great… non-sorcerer?”

Nile raised a small smile, as if he didn't even break a sweat with his last attack. “Non-sorcerer is correct. Now stop bowing, the swearing of fealty is over.”

Ozahr washed the last remains of the mud off and stood up. “So what, that was just a temporary thing? Swearing in your name and all? I swear to all the magic above if that was just a ploy to squeeze a drop of respect out of me…”

“Temporary, perhaps. But necessary.” Nile did not elaborate further as he stepped outside the fountain. There was a lot he didn't elaborate on.

“Where are you going?” Ozahr narrowly avoided the spilled guts and mud on the floor. “You can't just leave whenever you please, mister. Hey, I'm talking to you!” He had to yell as he ran to catch up to Nile.

“We’re going to retrieve your belongings,” Nile finally answered when Ozahr was close enough that he didn't have to yell. “And after that, you'll leave the temple.”

“Wha—leave? I can't leave,” Ozahr protested. “What about the Phoenix?”

Nile was just one step too quick for Ozahr to see how his expression hardened once more at the mention of that word. The lack of commentary from Nile, however, had become somewhat of a common occurrence now. Enough so that Ozahr decided to give up on questioning him, and followed him quietly.

When they walked down the narrow corridor back to the dungeon, there was uneasy tension in the air eating away at Ozahr. Not because other monsters could leap out of the dark at any moment, but because the wide berth of silence he gave Nile did not entice him to start spilling his backstory.

“Who are you?” Ozahr suddenly asked, unable to hold out in silence any longer. “Where did you come from? What are you doing in this temple?”

“Is this a multiple choice kind of test? That's a lot of questions.”

“Well, I feel like the way you treated me gives me the right to flip the questions on you this time. Now spill the beans. Or sand, in case you don't have beans here.”

Nile’s characteristic laughter escaped his nose in a puff of air. “We do have beans here.”

“Stop avoiding the questions—” Ozahr pointed a finger at him.

“What can I say?” Nile shrugged. There was an unnatural lightness to his steps, and not because of magic. Unlike before, his feet didn't seem to hurry anywhere now. “I've been stuck in a tower until a handsome prince rescued me.” He made it a point to lock eye contact with Ozahr whenever he was messing with him.

Taking it as a challenge, Ozahr did not look away. “Flattery would typically get you many things with me, but not this time. I don't see no spilled beans, mister. At most, you're dangling a sealed can in front of my face like you're trying to get me to swat at it.”

“Is it working?” Nile cocked a brow.

Ozahr only folded his arms in response and pouted his cheeks.

A sigh escaped Nile's lips and he looked ahead into the darkened corridor, eyes out of focus. “I suppose some of your memories inspired me to finally let go of this dusty old place. I haven't even been here long, but I don't think I'll find what I was looking for.”

“Is it too late to make it a multiple choice test?” Ozahr asked. “Y'know, so that I get less vague answers.”

Nile considered for a moment, weighing the question more than Ozahr expected. “Your new traveling companion is concealing more than he lets on,” Nile finally said.

Confused, Ozahr asked, “Traveling companion?”

“He woke up in this temple, barely remembering anything about himself.”

Catching on to what Nile was doing, he now asked, “You did?”

“He was disturbed by students who have long ransacked the place of any meaningful history.”

“Well—” Ozahr exhaled heavily, “Solace was right about those darn students, I suppose.”

“The last thing he remembers before dying is the brilliant, flaming feather of a Phoenix being gifted to him against his will.” The mention of death did not slow Nile down, nor did it make Ozahr want to interject. “Some wounds even magic cannot heal, but eternal life can. It can buy endless time for recovery—something only few creatures can afford. And that night, the Phoenix could only afford one such eternal life. Mine.” Nile stopped walking and looked down at his hands, where specks of golden magic still stuck to his skin. “Now I don't know where I begin and where the Phoenix ends. Something feels deeply wrong about calling myself by its… their name, and I don't know why.”

Nile may have veered off into open answer territory, but Ozahr accepted his explanation for now. He didn't expect memory loss to be a topic they'd share, but he welcomed the possibility that they finally found some common ground they didn't need to fight over. The idea that someone would also understand what living without the last was like, even a little, was not so bad either.

Sharply cutting the silence, Nile clapped his hands together. “I've decided,” he continued, “After I show you to your belongings, you shall take the lead. You want to find out what happened to the Phoenix? So do I.” Ozahr couldn't tell if that was anger or sadness behind Nile's voice. The rest of his words sounded more like a mumble, one he has repeated many times. “I didn't ask to have their soul, but now I have to figure out what to do with it…”

Nile's tendency to shift focus away from himself returned, and Ozahr noticed. “We can figure out who you were on the way as well,” he reminded him. Even though Nile seemed keen on restoring his memories—a sentiment Ozahr did not share—the inherent horror that followed them both when they tried to recall any meaningful moment from their past and failed, was something they both knew very well. Like staring at a test they studied many nights for, only for each answer on the page to turn into:

A) I don't know.

B) I don't know.

C) I don't know.

D) I don't know.