Chương 6: Chapter 5 - The Past of Duran-Orit

The Duran-Orit ravine, locally referred to as the Gorge of Mice, was the true beginning of the Pass of Klamat, or so I was told by the villagers. Locating it had proven to be little trouble, so I now found myself walking on its rocky surface. It was a peaceful place and my walk was undisturbed, right until I felt a flicker of magic. Turning towards the source, I half expected to find a dragon, but saw only an unassuming cave I likely would have missed without the pulse of magic. Wary, I debated investigating.

On one hand, it was the Brotherhood's job to take care of such things and it could be an opportunity for me to gain some accolades that I could point to in Cintra. On the other, such a phenomenon could signal significant danger. I frowned. If it was dangerous and the nearby villagers got hurt, my reputation would be tarnished if another mage got sent by the Brotherhood to investigate and found out I had passed through, ignoring the issue. My position would be put at risk.

I had told the villagers my name, so even in the best-case scenario I'd be assumed incompetent for not noticing the matter.

"Adda invaerne," I incanted, after stashing my suitcase behind a rock and unsheathing my steel dagger. As the world slowed down, so did the twinge in my shoulder lessen to near nothing. I glided towards the cave entrance under the influence of the reflex enhancement, my movement fast and smooth." Tor Aine," I cast a second spell, summoning a ball of light which quickly took position above and behind myself. It would last for an hour or so, which should be more than enough. Thus armed, I ventured inside the cave.

The cave wasn't remarkable. Cramped, damp and dark. It was, however, longer than you'd expect a random crevice to be. Its walls were surprisingly smooth, though still worn down by time. I slowly walked deeper, towards the magic I still felt flickering in my awareness. My footsteps, though quite silently, reverberated through the cave. A minute or so later I reached the cave's end and with it, the source of the magic I felt. It was a stone set in the ground.

Once, it must have looked indistinguishable from the surrounding earth, but now it protruded upward, its surroundings worn away by time. It was obviously artificial. Someone had set it in the ground at some point and then forgotten about it. As time went on, its non-magically reinforced surroundings wore away, possibly along with any protections that hid its magical signature. Naturally, I poked it with my dagger. Nothing happened. I was about to investigate further when I heard a truly demonic screech behind me.

Whirling around, my eyes widened upon seeing the source of the sound. A spectre floated there, holding a wooden staff. Then it disappeared. My eyes flickered around frantically, but its reappearance right in front of me still took me by surprise. Its staff was already coming for my head when it reappeared, but the reflex enhancement gave me enough time to step backwards. My back hit the wall, but the staff's passing only ruffled my hair instead of shattering my skull.

The spectre, now that I got a better look at it, looked strange. Squat and fat, despite the pallid and desiccated appearance death granted it. Its staff was cut in two, both parts held together by magic. What little I knew of such creatures quickly flickered through my head." Vaeltha," I incanted, while swinging my left hand, balled into a fist. The silver ring on it gleamed under Tor Aine's light as I struck the spectre in its head.

The creature shrieked, retaliating with another swing of its staff, but my conjured shield proved sufficient enough to block its attack. Another punch resulted in the creature teleporting a few meters backwards, towards the cave entrance. I stopped maintaining the shield and decided on my next spell." Aespar aedd gynvael," I incanted, summoning shards of ice, over half of which immediately shot straight towards the spectre. The first one hit, eliciting another shriek, but the rest passed straight through.

As the remaining shards floating around me sharpened into something more akin to arrows, I nodded slightly. Dhu Muire would not have been very useful against a creature capable of turning intangible, much to my chagrin. The idea behind its inception had been versatility, but it was only now in the field that the spell's limitations were becoming obvious. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. When the creature teleported again, I was ready.

It appeared behind me, fully corporeal, staff already swinging. Just as expected from a near-mindless monster. I ducked beneath the swing while turning enough to get it into my field of view again. Simultaneously, I sent the remaining ice shards towards it in a coordinated strike. The first shard pierced the creature's head, the second, third and fourth its torso. The rest missed, as the creature fell to the ground, rapidly turning into a pile of dust, defeated. I checked my surroundings for more enemies.

Spotting none, I breathed out. I understood much better now why hiring professionals was preferable for dealing with such creatures. A witcher might be expensive, but you really needed specialized tools and knowledge to deal with monsters like these. I'd have to get a silver dagger at some point, at least. Had I a proper silver weapon or a spell designed to force a spectre into assuming their corporeal form, I wouldn't have had to use myself as bait.

I was quite fortunate to be educated enough to understand that most spectres possessed these two properties and not to have encountered anything more esoteric. I frowned at the pile of dust then, before shaking my head and moving back to the magical piece of stone which started this entire thing. The dust might be useful for something, or it could be toxic, or even attract other monsters. It could stay in this cave. Crouching, I examined the stone carefully, before dusting it off.

Inscribed upon it were runes, now almost visible. A quick mutter of Gaeth cleared the rest of the grime off. Now fully visible, I identified them quickly as Elder Runes, the runic alphabet of Hen Llinge, the Elder Speech. The runes Glosse Marw seemed to be the fulcrum of the spell, something which could be liberally translated as the death of watching or some such. A very inelegant combination, to the point I was surprised it had ever worked.

After a few more minutes, I was quite certain that the spell wasn't doing anything else. The stone was just a stone, the spell simply meant to hide it and if I was not mistaken, hide whatever was below it. Somewhere in the middle of my examination, my reflex enhancement faded, letting me feel my shoulder in full force, causing me a grimace." Haela," I held my hand over it again, the pain lessening. The wound taken care of, I pried the stone off.

My eyes immediately landed on a half-rotten box, inside which I found a diary in a near pristine condition. After examining it for traps, I opened the first page and read.

'The fools in Mayenna think they can expel me. ME! Progress requires sacrifice, if only those shit-eating motherfuckers could understand that. I've been forced to run away to the edge of nowhere, but if they think that depriving me of my resources will stop me, they are sadly mistaken. A genius can thrive anywhere. One day, the name of Fregenal will resound throughout the world.' The script was an older version of the common speech, but it was still readable.

If the beginning was anything to go by, I wasn't sure if there was much point in reading through it all, but it might prove entertaining. It at least somewhat explained the presence of the spectre. My understanding was not the best, but if I recalled correctly, some types of ghosts could remain anchored in the world of the living by items of personal significance. Book in hand, I left the cave, retrieved my suitcase and resumed my march through the Duran-Orit ravine.

Though a bit too risky for my tastes, I had vanquished the monster. The villagers would have no cause to complain and I could rightfully point to this incident as another example of my competence, should someone in Cintra question me. All in all, a success.

'Turns out, money is easy to acquire. Just take it from the peasants, they cannot stop you. Killed a few of them to see what they'd do, but still nothing.'

'When disarmed, wait for an opportunity to brain your enemy with a rock. They fall for it every time. I wonder if the Circle will send anyone else?'

'More are joining my cause. Humans, Vrans and Bobolaks, bandits and brigands. I do not mind, more meatshields are always welcome, but the peasants are becoming more and more whiny.

"Oh great and gracious Fregenal, we need food to feed our children." Blah blah blah. It literally grows on the ground, why do these shit-smelling morons think they can trick me with such a transparent ploy?'

'My work is progressing well. First Mayenna, then the world.'

'Alzur's Double Cross' I did a double-take. Dusk had fallen and I had erected my camp. I was leafing through the book I had found by the campfire when the spell's name popped out at me. I had already concluded that the book was a journal of some deranged bandit lord, but Alzur's Double Cross? That was a very complex and rare spell. The man being a mage would at least explain why he seemed to see peasants as no threat. I had just assumed he was insane, but perhaps he was slightly less so.

A well-placed pitchfork could kill a sorcerer as well in any case. Interest piqued, I returned to the journal. After an hour or so of examining the spell, I concluded that it was likely legitimate, or very close to it. Though written in the same handwriting as the rest of the journal, the style was remarkably different. A little note below the spell explained that discrepancy.

'That bobolak has been sniffing around too much, better to transcribe the spells here, if I hadn't sent Manissa away, I'd turn the fucker into a rug.' Honestly, it was baffling. Alzur's Double Cross could be considered a spell of legend. I had little doubt that there were others who possessed the knowledge to cast it, yet that didn't diminish its value.

It was a spell meant to create powerful monsters, so not truly relevant to my own pursuits, but I had little doubt that there was a lot I could glean from studying it. If I understood correctly, the Double Cross referred to the crossing of creatures with the Power itself, which made me uncertain whether Alzur was a genius or a madman. I had to wonder which came first though. Witchers, or the Double Cross? Which inspired Alzur to create which? The implications were disturbing either way.

I was only glad that he was already dead. Shugel had been quite enough for me. One thing was certain. A means to possibly create a city-destroying creature like the Viy of Maribor was extremely valuable. Not that the past residents of Maribor would likely agree. I'd have to transcribe the spell into Imperial, then burn the journal, just in case.