Young Writers Society

This was a bad plan. An awful plan, really. So many things could go wrong. I chalked a final symbol down on my circle. It had taken years of practice before I’d stopped drawing ovals. I grimaced; no matter how bad the plan was, it was better than nothing.

I brushed a lock of hair behind my ear and cracked my knuckles. This was going to be tricky, as it involved magic. I was rubbish at magic, which was generally fine, because I was an alchemist. Alchemists didn’t need much magic. Right now, I needed all the magic I could get.

The pages of the battered book were yellowed with age and brittle, and some of the handwriting was hard to make out. I sincerely hoped I was reading it right, because if I wasn’t, the circle would explode. Again.

I traced the symbols with the saliva of a truffahorn, layering the inner circle with powdered red spire mushroom cap. I was pretty sure it wasn’t red shire mushroom. If it was supposed to be red shire mushroom….well, I was going to have a problem. But that was just a risk I was going to have to take.

I knelt and pressed my palms against the circle summoning my magic. The concentric circles and runes began glowing, pulsing with a sickly green light. It needed more magic. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated. I only needed a little more magic to complete the spell. I strained harder, calling on the last dregs of my magic.

The light began to stabilize, turning deep red and casting fiery light on the walls. White smoke billowed from the ground, coalescing into legs, a body, arms, a head.

“Well,” the Harbinger murmured. “I have to admit it. This was not what I expected.”

“Sorry for, um, summoning you, but I need to ask you some questions,” I said. My instincts were telling me to outright interrogate the Harbinger. Why don’t you just kill Corso yourself? I wanted to ask, as well as a million other questions, but I had to remain submissive. “About this….mission you sent me on. I couldn’t think of any other way to contact you.”

“I see.” The Harbinger flicked the air in front of him, creating a ripple outwards. “And what does the shield charm have to do with it?”

“Er….” I was hoping he wouldn’t notice that until I needed it. “Safety precaution. You understand.”

“Of course I understand,” the Harbinger replied. Uh-oh. “I understand everything perfectly.” In my experience, that was never a good sign. “You don’t trust me.” Honestly, I’d expected worse. “It’s understandable, but I can’t help but be just a little bit insulted.” That’s not good. “But that’s okay. You don’t have to trust me.”

The Harbinger placed his hand against the force field, creating a small disturbance in the air. His palm began to glow, bright light streaming out of it, burning through the shield charm. I’d seen people heal with light magic, but this was different light. It was harsh and burning. I was forced to look away from the blinding light tearing its way through my carefully crafted shield charm.

“Well, can’t say I didn’t see that coming,” I muttered. “I don’t want a fight.” That protest was halfhearted at best. The Harbinger was out, and if he tried to fight me, I’d have to try to kill him, even if I didn’t get any answers. Not knowing beat dying.

“Nyx, you can’t really be so naïve, can-” I launched a fireball at the Harbinger, hitting him directly in the chest and launching him across the room. He slammed into the wall and slid to the floor like a discarded doll.

The Harbinger’s eyes opened and his nostrils flared. His hands crackled with power. “You know, this might all be one big understanding,” I said.

The Harbinger through out his hand, launching a spear of light towards me. It passed through me and hurled me backwards. The spear stuck into the wall, leaving me hanging over the floor like an insect in a glass case. The impact knocked the breath out of me as I was left dangling just off the ground. Agony flared from my wound. The spear faded from existence and I fell to the ground. I checked the wound and found that there wasn’t one. I wasn’t dying. The spear hadn’t been real.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, but the memory was still there, the memory of being run through.

The Harbinger looked down on me. “I can make it last, you know,” he drawled. “Death. I’ve never killed anyone before, but it can’t be too hard. People die all the time.”

“You’ve never killed someone?” I asked. I flicked my gauntlet setting fire to a fuse. I watched the trail of fire snake across the wall, before disappearing into the ceiling. The ceiling above the Harbinger exploded, burying him under a pile of bricks. “Well, that makes one of us.”

I dashed away from the pile of rubble. Intuition told me that something as insignificant as ceiling matter wasn’t going to eliminate the Harbinger. The fact that he was screaming curses reinforced this theory.

I began scaling the ladder leading out of my lab. I had hoped I wouldn’t have to do this, but the Harbinger had left me no option. Once I got far enough away, I could activate the failsafe. I could remotely detonate the explosives under, around, and in my lab, leaving nothing but a smoking crater. Even the Harbinger couldn’t survive that.

I was almost to the trap door, but as I reached for the handle, a layer of ice blanketed the surface. I was trapped. The Harbinger had managed to free himself from the pile quicker than I’d expected.

“I’m done playing games, Alchemist,” the Harbinger snarled. “Kill Corso in one week or your life is forfeit.”