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by Emyrn Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #985942
The first story I wrote deals with a mage asked to retrieve a gold ring from a castle.
         Jargan entered the Red Eye tavern, giving a quick glance at the few old tables and dim lighting. Smiling to himself, he quickly scanned the patrons and made sure they were all absorbed in drink before continuing through a door that many patrons had never seen, for it lay hidden behind a worn rug. Descending the creaky, wooden stairs he came to another room, ill lit and awash in the foul smell of drink, many feet under ground. Glancing at the few people in the room, their features mostly hidden, Jargan managed to spy the one person he was looking for. He made his way quickly to a table next to his contact so as not to draw attention to himself. “’Bout time you showed up,” said Jamane, turning his chair to face Jargan. “I was beginning to wonder if you didn't want the job.”
         “Oh, I’m interested,” said Jargan in response. “What's the job?”
         “Glad to hear it,” said Jamane. “I've heard rumors of a ring with magical properties and with a little digging I finally managed to find where it's hidden. It's worth a small fortune to the right person. Are you interested?"
         “Aye,” said Jargan, giving Jamane a suspicious stare, “but why offer it to me?”
         “Well, it would take a good amount of skill and a few of your special talents to get it,” responded Jamane in a lazy, light hearted manner. “And of course, I would get a thirty five percent cut.
         Jargan thought it over and asked, “Do you know what the magic properties are?
         "Well, not exactly," responded a hesitant Jamane.
         Seizing the opportunity, Jargan said," I'll identify the ring for you and you get fifteen percent."
         "No way," blurted out Jamane before lowering his voice as he waited for the other patrons to go back to their drink. "Thirty percent and only I know where it is."
         "Well, do you know what dangers I will face?" asked Jargan with a smile.
         "Oh just some traps and maybe a guardian. Nothing major," answered Jamane easily.
         "Twenty five percent is your cut," said Jargan, "and the ring will be identified. Don't forget you implied magic use and I'm sure you don't know that many mages."
         "Fine," sighed Jamane knowing when he was beat. Jamane reached into one of his deep pockets and pulled out a map and scroll. The map was a picture of a large castle with one of the rooms circled.
         “This looks like the castle of Marazzin,” said Jargan in awe. “It was rumored lost and is home to a great many things.” Suspicious again Jargan asked, “And how did you come by this?”
         “I have my secrets and you have yours,” responded Jamane in his once again lazy manner. “The scroll will take you to the castle and has the incantation on it but it takes a great deal of magic. That's why I called you.”
         “Very well,” said Jargan, deep in thought about what he would need for this journey.
         Taking the scroll and map, Jargan got up as to leave, but Jamane grabbed his shoulder and said, “Beware the guardian as rumors tell he is a cursed spirit ordered to guard the treasures in the castle.”
         "You couldn't have told me this before?" asked an agitated Jargan.
         "Had you known you would have made my cut lower," finished Jamane with a big toothy smile.
          An agitated Jargan quickly made his way to the exit of the Red Eye muttering, “How do I get myself involved on these jobs? I’m supposed to be on vacation.” Leaving the tavern and its anti-magic barrier behind, Jargan muttered a few words and was gone.
         Jamane, watching Jargan disappear, smiled to himself and thought, “What a fool! He has no idea what he has gotten himself into.”

         *          *          *          *

         A graveyard, deep in the woods of Gold’maar, reverberated with the sound of chanting, “Aru ah mahe cert ya he.” As the chanting grew louder, all other sounds in the forest ceased, almost as if a storm were descending upon the forest. The chanters stopped for a moment to look at a now glowing stone. The chanters with a renewed vigor chanted all the louder, “ARU AH MAHE CERT YA HE! ARU AH MAHE CERT YA HE!
         The stone, now spinning wildly on its axis, began to transform itself into a woman of great beauty. Her hair, black as night, cascaded down her neck into the shape of a serpent, and one look into her dark blue eyes could pierce the very soul of any mortal, no matter how brave at heart. “Who has summoned me from the void?” she said in a beautiful but hollow voice.
         “I have summoned you, Shi’nu,” shouted the leader of the chanters as he stepped forward throwing back his hood.
         “What is thy request?” responded Shi’nu, looking into the eyes of the leader.
         The leader, wanting to back away but not able, answered in a choked voice, “We, the Abranhi, desire the revival of the spirit guardians and monsters now in slumber. Awaken for us the spirits and guardians, in the castle Marazzin, and bring forth the evil creatures in this forest.”
         “As you desire, mortal,” responded Shi’nu in a deceptively calm voice. “But remember this, as payment, I must be released from this prison or else you will suffer for all eternity with me.”
         “Yesss, my queen,” responded the leader quivering slightly. “Plans for your release are already under way. The powerful blue robe, Jargan, is already falling into our trap. The guardians you have revived will defeat him and his power will be transferred to you.”
         “Very well, let it be as you say. For your sake, Jamane,” replied Shi’nu with a mischievous smile as she disappeared in a flash of light. The stone, once again, sat on the pedestal, lifeless. Very slowly the croaking of frogs and the chirping of birds resumed, but this time with an air of forbearance.

         *          *          *          *

         Jargan, entering a citadel, bowed to the priest that walked past. “Ah, feels good to be home,” Jargan thought, looking at the tall pillars and graceful curves of the stairs.
         Walking through one of the many rich, oak doors, he entered an open pavilion lined with blooming flowers. At the end of the path, Jargan spied what he was looking for, the largest door of them all. Lined with embroidered gold and made from the rare Cyprus tree, it was a true sight to behold. Approaching the two guards, each armed with mighty staffs, Jargan asked, “May I see the council?”
         The guards answering in unison boomed with a mighty voice, “You may pass and approach the Council of Six.”
         “Thank you,” replied Jargan bowing to each in turn. The doors to the council opened with a low rumble. Taking a few steps inside, the doors swiftly shut behind him, leaving Jargan to face the Council alone.
         “What is your request, Jargan, that you would seek our permission?” said the leader of the council.
         Always amazed at how the Council knew who was coming to speak to them, Jargan quickly gathered his thoughts and bowed, before replying, “A contact of mine has given me a scroll to a castle, but I do not know if I can use it. I require of the Council, that you tell me if this spell works for us, the blue robes, or if it’s of the green or black order. I also wish an update of the strange tales, which have been circulating lately, of revived monsters in the forest of Gold’marr.”
         The council, communicating magically amongst themselves for several minutes so Jargan couldn't hear, finally responded, “We shall grant both your requests, but it comes as a surprise that you have a means of getting to Marazzin, when the ancient beasts, which we thought were gone forever, have been revived about the same time. The tales of monsters have been proven, but, and this is for your ears only, they are really the ancient beasts, thought to have been lost. Only Shi’nu would be able to revive them, and she has not been seen for centuries. Not since the mage wars of legend."
         The council always knows everything, thought Jargan to himself, making sure to shield his thoughts this time. “Does this mean, the black order which also has not been seen for centuries, has come back and now worships her?” asked Jargan with a shiver.
         The leader of the council answered in a grave tone, “I'm afraid it does, which makes it all the more suspicious that you have received a scroll to take you to a centuries old castle. We will identify it for you, but if you choose to use it, you are on your own. Do you understand?”
         “I will accept full responsibility,” answered Jargan with only a slight quiver in his voice.
         “Very well,” answered the leader of the Council, looking over the scroll. With a look of insight on his old and withered face, he quickly wrote down the translation of the scroll. The translated scroll flew from the marble pedestel where the Council sat right into Jargan's hands. It read,
Beholder,

         If this scroll has been freely given to you, then you may be transported to Castle Marazzin. However, you must be of the blue or green order and have the required knowledge and ability to use this scroll. If you do not have the skill or are not of the blue or green order you will be destroyed should you try to read this spell. Furthermore, upon taking you to the castle, this scroll will be destroyed.

The Green Order:
Amu naku mahi shura
Manuya adu a fisera


The Blue Order:
Amu nakura manu shira
Agu saya mahi nade shi


         “Are you still going to employ the scroll, Jargan?” asked the Council leader, a note of concern in his still strong voice.
         “Aye, I will,” responded Jargan now with confidence.
         “Very well, but be cautious. For if the black order has returned then the castle may be a trap,” answered the leader. Jargan, bowing once more to the Council, stepped back outside the doors as they swiftly shut behind him.
         One of the Council members asked the leader, “Do you think he will succeed?”
         “We can only hope he will,” answered the Council leader. "It will be his greatest test."

         *          *          *          *

         Jargan, in a side room of the citadel, drew a pentagram out of powdered quartz on the floor and prepared his mind for what he had to do. Placing the scroll in the center of the pentagram, Jargan picked up his staff and stepped into the pentagram, a symbol of good, and lightly tapped his staff. The powder turned into a blue flame engulfing Jargan as he reached a state of calm and recited the incantation, “Amu nakura manu shira
Agu saya mahi nade shi

         Jargan felt his atoms mesh against each other but he stayed calm, knowing any mistake now would kill him. With a sheer force of will, he endured it. The brightly lit room, from which he had cast the spell vanished only moments later to be replaced by a dim and dusty corridor.
         Glancing down both ends of the corridor and seeing nothing but dusty stone walls, Jargan breathed a sigh of relief. It took several minutes for Jargan to feel like he could move again so he pulled out the map. It revealed the circled room, like before but also a little dot, which had not been there before. It did not take long for Jargan to notice that when he moved, the dot moved, and thus the dot was himself. Looking closely at the map Jargan realized he was only a corridor and flight of steps away from the room he needed.           Jargan began moving down the corridor using his staff as a crutch. A creaking noise startled Jargan back to his surroundings and made him wonder who else would be in a lost castle. Quickly opening a nearby door, Jargan dissapeared inside.
         A peek out the door revealed a huge shadow of a figure, but Jargan quickly relaxed again when it turned out to be only a moving bones armed with a sword. Remembering that there may be monsters and guardians in the castle, Jargan suddenly felt very foolish.          Jargan pushed the door closed as he waited for the skeleton to pass by.          Noticing something silvery on a moldy, well-worn bed, he pulled back the covers and found a book. Carefully picking it up so it would not fall apart in his hands, Jargan tried to decipher the ancient language the book was written in. He was so focused on his discovery that he nearly missed the sound of the door being opened.
         Dropping the book, Jargan turned around and stood staring at a skeleton knight. The skeleton knight, who he thought was only a bunch of puny walking bones before, suddenly looked a whole lot more deadly up close. Pale white with a bloody, rusted sword, it charged Jargan.          Jargan quickly ducked under the swing of the sword. Turning with lightning reflexes, he grabbed his staff and swung it at the skeleton’s head. The head turned to dust and the skeleton fell in a lifeless heap on the floor, its sword landing with a loud clang.
         With a sigh of relief, Jargan picked up the book and a nearby pack, and resumed his search for the ring. The stairs according to the map were straight ahead, but when he stepped back into the corridor, the floor suddenly gave way around him, leaving only a narrow walkway toward the stairs. Unintimidated, Jargan used his staff as a balancing pole and started crossing the walkway, only to discover a gap in the middle. Jargan, perplexed, decided to try to jump it without falling into the chasm beyond. Gathering his courage and his belongings, he jumped. Jargan barely made it, landing awkwardly on the next portion of the walkway. In response, the walkway started swaying back and forth with Jargan's landing, and a weird rumbling could be heard underneath. Wasting no time, Jargan decided to make another jump to the stairwell at the end of the corridor.
         When he swayed back towards the center of the corridor, he bent his knees and leaped right as the walkway lost its support. The entire walkway crashed down below. Landing with one foot on the stairs, Jargan fought to keep himself from falling backwards and down the chasm. Pushing himself forward, he landed sprawled face down on the stairs. Breathing heavily and relieved to be alive, he took a couple of minutes to rest before resuming his search.
         Another look at the map showed that he was approaching the ring. Feeling more calm now that he was so close, Jargan opened the door down the hallway. There it was - the golden ring - in a clear glass case. Expecting a trap, Jargan approached slowly and carefully, making sure to note his surroundings. Eying the lifelike, yet lifeless statue of a Cyclops, the narrow slit that served as a window, the golden ring and a chest in the room, he felt he was safe for the moment. Tears of joy crept into his eyes as he realized he was finally nearing the end of his job. A confident Jargan approached the chest first, realizing to himself that there were many more lost treasures than the one he sought. As he opened the chest, myriad items gleamed with their own light. Not detecting any trap, he reached in and grabbed a necklace and a pair of bronze rings, throwing them into his bag. In the distance he heard a rumbling sound further away. Dreading some new threat, he grabbed the last two remaining objects a scroll and a short staff embroidered in gold. Putting the staff in his pack, he tried to read the scroll. Unable to, he put it in his pack as well. The rumbling grew louder by the moment, and it seemed as if the castle were falling apart. Dust and small stones pelted him as the ceiling shook.
         Hurriedly going back to the ring, Jargan opened the glass case and with a feeling of exhilaration reached in to take it. Not encountering any resistance, Jargan took the ring and put it in his pocket. The whole room and the corridor began shaking, and with a start Jargan realized he did not have a scroll to get himself out of the castle. And then as if a mighty force had intervened, the rumbling ceased.
         Jargan glanced up at the ceiling, turned around to leave the room when the statue of the Cyclops started to glow. Turning red like a sword out of a forge, the stone around the Cyclops broke revealing a very large, one-eyed brute who did not look happy at an intruder in his domain.

         *          *          *          *

         Jamane, looking into a crystal pool, watched Jargan as the Cyclops came to life. Thinking to himself, “He fell for it. He fell for it and now he’s in bigger trouble than he could imagine.” Feeling victory at hand, and glad that Shi’nu had granted his request for the revival of the guardians, he decided to summon her again so she could watch Jargan’s defeat. Gathering the chanters, he moved back to the stone and chanted the mantra, “Aru ah mahe cert ya he.” After the repetition of this for a couple of minutes Shi’nu appeared in all her dark glory.
         “What is thy request, Jamane?” she asked him.
         Jamane responded, “I wish you to see the defeat of Jargan, and the transfer of his power to you. Soon his power will be added to yours and you will be released from your prison.”
         Shi’nu replied with a mocking smile, “I will watch but should my Cyclops be defeated, I will be in a weakened state and hold you to your promise. You will join me in everlasting torment in the void. Your power will be mine.”
         “Yes my queen,” answered Jamane with a sudden chill in his heart.

         *          *          *          *

         Jargan, staff in hand, whispered, “Ashni han ti.” A fireball appeared in his hand and shot towards the Cyclops with the sound of thunder, but it did not faze him. Instead, the Cyclops with a mighty battle cry swung his giant club at Jargan. He narrowly avoided being hit. Summoning another fireball, he hurled it again at the Cyclops, this time at his eye. The Cyclops brought up his club to stop it. Jargan, realizing he was outmatched, had only one choice. It was a dangerous feat to use unknown magic items but there was little other choice.
         Putting the golden ring on his finger and taking out the gold short staff while dodging the Cyclops blows was not easy, but he succeeded. Feeling power come into him, he suddenly did not feel as weak. His hair, usually a dark brown, turned black, and knowledge of several spells lost since the castle disappeared came to him. The scroll in his pack also started to glow, and Jargan pulling it out realized he could now understand it! As he spoke the magic words on the scroll, the Cyclops, ready to strike stopped dead in its track. As a matter of fact the whole Cyclops was once again a statue. Wasting no more time, Jargan swung the gold staff at the statue, crumbling it into dust.

         *          *          *          *

         Shi’nu, feeling her power ebb, shouted, “JAMANE You have failed me!”
         Jamane, shuddering horribly responded with a begging quiver, “Please forgive me. Next time I'll succeed. Please don’t take me with you. ”
         Shi’nu, ignoring Jamane's pleas, reached out from the stone, grabbed Jamane and with a heart-piercing shriek dragged him into the still spinning stone. As soon as Jamane dissapeared the stone ceased moving and the forest creatures could be heard again. Leaderless, once more, the chanters disappeared into the night, their black robes melding with the darkness not to be seen again for ages.

         *          *          *          *

         Jargan, relieved that the Cyclops was vanquished, thought of returning to the citadel, and before he knew it he was there. Falling to the ground in relief, he went to the Council to report and submit the magic items to them.
         After hearing Jargan's story and analyzing all the magic items, the leader of the Council said, “Jargan, we underestimated you. You have found quite a few rare treasures. The book we would like to keep here as it appears to unlock many secrets and mysteries of the mage wars. As for the golden ring, we've identified it as a transport ring and the staff a sacred item, now bound to you till you’re dying day. The necklace and other rings have no magical value. You can keep everything but the book for yourself.”
         “Thank you,” was all Jargan could say, a tear rolling down his eye as he he looked at the ring and staff. Sacred objects were very rare with only a few still in existence. No wonder new spells came to him. The value of the ring and the staff was priceless.
As the ecstatic Jargan left the citadel, he thought to himself, "I never said when I was to meet with Jamane again. I wonder how he's doing.” Dismissing the thought as fast as it came Jargan figured, “Oh, well. If he surfaces, he surfaces and if not, he doesn’t. I'll just hold onto everything until he contacts me."

                   THE END
© Copyright 2005 Emyrn (emyrn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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