Thasnkyou for the edit, I have made the corrections and deeply appreciate your comments.
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Chapter 4 – Nightly Chills
Fyrne shivered underneath his thin purple robes. He looked up to see harsh clouds carved up with daggered icicles floating just above him. He shivered again at the site of them but focused his little strength on flying through the air. Rhiney, the oldest and frailest of the mages hovered about 30 metres in front, shivering even more than Fyrne was. Fyrne felt for him, his young heart desperately beat through the cold chill, he could only imagine what Rhiney’s heart was feeling.
“I can feel a strong aura of magic nearby,” stuttered the robust man. Fyrne closed his eyes to shield out a buffer of wind that shot through the air. As Fyrne did so he became warm, warmer than ever and his mind was at peace, he breathed in and instead of bitterness was pollen from the hedgerows and fresh grass from the mowed lawns. He opened his mouth and sweet pine dappled his tongue. He opened his eyes.
The Mages were gone, the coldness and clouds had all gone, he was no longer flying as he felt soft moss underneath his bare feet. The Eden he had smelled and tasted was alive in his eyes. He followed all sorts of woodland animals darting in and out of the trees and fidgeting in pampered paradise. Fyrne stood and rubbed his eyes again, the image didn’t go away, it was there, still real.
Where am I, Fyrne thought but didn’t dwell, Fyrne liked the place, he wanted to stay. He’d sooner be here than in the frozen skies any day with some washed up mages. He smiled in a cruel pity as he remembered Rhiney, the frail mage leader. He smiled again when his eyes suckled on a fresh water stream nearby, he ran to it. His feet pounded on the soft moss again. With a dive he splashed into the water.
It was cold, colder than the sky, he was frozen again. The shock punched him. The happy glimmer that was in his eyes vanished only to be replaced by a sheer hardness. But he wasn’t back in the skies, the garden wasn’t a dream. The water rippled but Fyrne didn’t move. Something was moving towards him.
A fear welled up inside of him, the garden that welcomed him so became alarming. All his senses were alert but he still could not move, he was frozen, every fibre in his being was glued to the air, he tried to turn but to no avail. Another ripple travelled towards him.
He tried to scream, no sound left his mouth. In fact the whole garden was silent now apart from the soft ripple. He sensed his body leaving the water, something was pulling him with ease, he was nothing to what ever it was as there was no struggle. I’m prey, Fyrne cried inside but his thoughts were soon extinguished when blackness filled his eyes.
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Fyrne stopped all thought, shock had made another blow and this time knocked him out of consciousness. When he roused the blackness was still there, an enormous shadow leering over his body. He could move now, his muscles had been regained; he backed away until he felt scratches down his back. Fyrne had hit the base of a tree. He looked up and up and up until two white eyes met his, Fyrne searched for pupils but none were found.
“Shield!” Fyrne screamed in instinct and a blue light shot from his hands forming a bright aqua coloured dome around him. The light rippled and it gave him some protection. A slight relief filled Fyrne, he had the upper hand of magic, he smiled mockingly. Then the shield vanished. Fyrne’s eyes widened.
“Shield, shield, SHIELD!!!” But no light came from his hands and once again he was prey to something much more powerful. He stood but fear almost pulled him down. He tripped on a tree root but continued backing away. The black shadow didn’t move. He raised his hand again, palm forward ready to attack at any instant. He breathed heavily and his face burned up. His heart pulsated even more than in the frozen skies. For the first time for along while, Fyrne was helpless, he was no longer the popular kid with the powers, no longer the arrogant boy who thought he was cool because he was a mage. He was weak and his powers were nothing compared to …well… the other powers.
Fyrne stopped as he felt a cold hand touch his shoulder. He breathed and turned expecting to see the mages come and rescue him but the purple robes were no where to be seen, but a man was there. A tall man with long silver hair and glittering eyes.
“THERE’S A MONSTER!” Fyrne screamed at him, begging for help.
“Silence!” The man’s voice echoed, for what seemed like an eternity.
Fyrne’s legs gave way and he was forced, by some power into a kneeling position before the man.
“You will speak when spoken too.” The man’s voice echoed again.
“Who are you?” Fyrne groaned, half in fear and half in curiosity. But he didn’t have time to listen because he fell to the floor, his skin exploded as he felt like a thousand daggers were forcefully twisting against his flesh. Fyrne’s lungs erupted with loud screams, his eyes rolled over and he lay calm.
“Interuptions deserve punishment, however in answer to your question, I am the Master,” the Master spoke with a force that could command armies, raze castles and conquer worlds. “And your name young mage?” Fyrne got up but kept his kneeling position.
“Fyrne of Rhineymagus”
“From now on you will address me as Master,” His voice murdered the air as he spoke. “You are of great importance to me young mage.”
Fyrne remained silent but lifted slightly. I’m of importance to a Master? He waited for the Master to continue.
“You see the last of the mages, Rhineymagus, including yourself seem to see their Master as a threat, am I a threat young mage?”
Fyrne didn’t know how to answer. He debated the best possible answer because for some reason he became loyal. “Yes Master, your power is a threat to such weak mages such as I, Master,” he bowed his head.
The Master smiled slightly but returned to sternness within a split second. Fyrne shook his head, what was he doing? He was betraying his friends, his teachers.
“Now I want you to go back in there and remove the leader.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Fyrne shouted.
“Protecting them? Love them?” The Master mocked, rising Fyrne to the challenge. Fyrne’s eyes watered, several tears came down his face. He was torn now, the Master was so desrible, the power and the magic he would be rewarded with. The power he could learn. Then there was his loyalty to his teachers and clan of mages, he thought of them freezing in the sky and that coldness protected him from the Masters temptation, he had been a fool for that fraction of a second and it could have cost lives. The Master wouldn’t convert him. He was loyal to his fellow mages until the end.
Standing up, Fyrne saw the Master’s face distort, it became etched with a thousand years of hatred and greed. He became snakelike and in an instant the shadow man appeared behind him, his eyes burning red with a desire to kill.
