Mimic Arcanist [Chapter 24]

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I'm hard at work finishing this up. Hopefully it will be all done super soon!

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Shami

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ABYSSAL TRIDENT

“Rylee,” the Warlord of Magic said. He hugged her for a short moment and then released her. “How’re you doing? Is everything okay? Your letter wasn’t very descriptive.” He grazed his knuckles across her cheek, his expression soft.

The man stood taller than anyone in the room—perhaps even taller than my brother, but they weren’t side by side for a good comparison. His black hair was short, but messy, as though styled by the winds of adventure itself.

His arcanist mark… it glowed white. A bright, mystical glow that was difficult to describe. It wouldn’t light up a room, but the faint pulse of power was unmissable. His seven-pointed star was laced with a cape and a sword.

A knightmare arcanist.

Just like Sorin.

He was muscled, but not bulky, and he stood with such confidence and balance that I knew he was a warrior of the highest order. A sword in an ebony sheath was tied at his side, and a kite shield as dark as midnight hung on his back.

The Warlord of Magic wore a plain outfit just as dark as his weaponry, but the most impressive part was the many tattoo runes that sparkled across his skin. He had a black mark on one forearm, a red one on the other, and a blue swirl along the side of his neck. When he turned to face me, I noticed one of his eyes was also marked with a rune—it shone with a gentle gold. His other eye was nothing interesting. As black as everything he clothed himself in.

The man had a color preference, obviously.

“Gray,” Professor Helmith said, pulling me out of my musings. “This is my dad, Volke Savan, the Warlord of Magic.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “Only the history books know me as the Warlord of Magic. Everyone here can just call me Volke. I’d much prefer it.”

The shadows around his feet fluttered with the sounds of raven’s wings. When I glanced down, I realized all the darkness in the room had a slight haze to the edges, as though moving on its own.

Only the shadow at Sorin’s feet ever moved. As I turned in a slow circle, I realized all the shadows in this room were moving. The high corners near the ceiling, the ones on the floor, even the slivers of shade cast by the panes fixed into the window…

The darkness here was alive.

“You’re a mimic arcanist, Gray?” Volke half-smiled. “They’re quite rare. I hope you take good care of your eldrin.”

“I received two bowls of fish soup for lunch,” Twain interjected. “I think it’s safe to say I’m living the good life.” He burped a little.

I forced a laugh. “Ha. Yeah. I try.”

Headmaster Venrover motioned everyone close. “No need to stand so far apart.” Once we were near, he motioned to a table by the far wall. “Come. We should observe this together.”

As a group of four, we walked over to the massive oak desk. Five gate fragments sat on top of the table, along with a weapon stand with a golden trident. I tensed the moment I spotted it. How had I not seen it before? I had probably been too busy gawking at the warlord.

This was Death Lord Deimos’s trident.

He had thrown it at me during the fight. It was the weapon that had left scars across my body.

And here it was. Perched on a stand like it was a decoration to be admired.

“They kept this here?” I asked under my breath, staring at the trident.

The entire weapon was made of a singular material. It was dark gold, but I knew it wasn’t just plain metal. Something about the weapon was sinister. I felt the magic from where I stood. It was the same eerie sensation I had felt when the Gates of Crossing had opened to the abyssal hells.

The three prongs of the trident were hook-like.

My body hurt just remembering how easily they had sliced through me.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Volke asked.

Headmaster Venrover motioned to the five gate fragments. Which was odd. Hadn’t we only found two?

He picked one up with his bare hands. “These are slivers of the gate.” Then he held the fragment close to my body. Once it was within a few inches, it glittered. The power within was obviously reacting to my presence. “Do you see this?”

Volke nodded. “Can you explain it?”

“Professor Zahn didn’t manage to completely finish his infernal gate.” Headmaster Venrover pulled the fragment away from me. “It required one more soul. And specifically, it needed the soul of a twin—the older of the two. Since Gray is an older twin, these fragments are activated by his proximity.”

Volke folded his arms. “Any older twin will trigger this? You’re telling me that if fragments are scattered around, there’s a chance someone might stumble across them and unknowingly unleash something horrific on the world?”

“Precisely.” Venrover then grabbed a second fragment. “But there’s more. You see, Gray and Rylee found two pieces while away from the campus on a camping trip. However, once I had word from Rylee that these shattered remnants of the gate could be dangerous, I found a few here in the Academy that were left after the cleanup.”

“Three more?” Volke asked, glancing at all the fragments on the table.

“No. Four more. You see, something interesting happened when I placed two together.”

The headmaster held up two fragments. One was larger than the other, perhaps the width of two fingers, and just as long. The other fragment was the size of a thumb. When Venrover placed the two pieces flush up against each other, they glittered again and fused together.

Now it was a fat chunk of the gate, and it pulsed with disgusting yellowish energies before calming down and returning to its normal silvery sheen.

“It’s more powerful now,” Volke muttered, his expression hardening. When he glanced up to meet Venrover’s gaze, he added, “The large the pieces, the more dangerous it is.”

“Correct again.” The headmaster sighed as he placed the fragment on the table. “But I’m hoping you can destroy this with that sword of yours. If you can, I would sleep easier at night.”

“Hm.”

Volke rubbed at his chin, his eyes staring at the floor. I couldn’t help but stare for a long while. How had he gotten a rune in his eye? Captain Leon had said people crushed up the occult ore to make the tattoos. Had the Warlord of Magic done that?

I rubbed at my eyelid just thinking about how awful that would be.

“Do you think anyone would be mad if I started yawning?” Twain whispered. He blinked his eyes without any synchronization.

I gently shook him. “Don’t be rude,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re going to make me look bad.”

“But being a unicorn for so long was tiring…”

“Draw on the power of your two bowls of fish soup. You need to stay awake for this.”

Volke grabbed the hilt of his sword. The weapon crackled with energy as he slid the blade out of its sheath, the aggressive snapping noise echoing throughout the room.

Twain’s ears shot up, his eyes wide. “Oh, dang. I’m awake now.”

The sword was black—again, the man had a color, and he was using it to its fullest extent. But there was something interesting about the blade. The center of it was marked with a cluster of stars. White stars and green stars. They formed a constellation that resembled a serpent.

“And you want to me to strike the fragment?” Volke asked, his weapon held firmly in his hand.

The headmaster nodded. “Please.”

Volke didn’t strike with much speed. He lifted his sword, and then carefully brought it down on the fat silvery chunk. The blade effortlessly sliced through it. No force was required on Volke’s part.

I had hoped the two pieces would fade away into nothingness, but the fragments remained. They were just… smaller now. As they once were before fusing. Volke took his blade and sliced another into two, but neither lost their magic. They glittered with power, and I felt their eerie aura from where I stood a good ten feet away.

“I’m not destroying them,” Volke muttered. “I’m just making more.”

“Fascinating.” Headmaster Venrover stepped closer to the table. He gently touched the fragments and then rolled two into each other. They fused to create one, just like before. “I believe these bits of the gate are drawing magic from the abyssal hells themselves. It seems we will need another solution to this problem other than your sword.”

Professor Helmith placed a hand on Volke’s shoulder. “Dad, do you know anyone who might be able to help us? I think eradicating all remnants of this gate should be our top priority. Technically, Zahn is still loose in the world. If he discovers any of these fragments, and then figures out he can still use them, I think terrible things will come of it.”

“Let me think on it,” Volke muttered. He offered his daughter a smile. “Most people come to me when they want something destroyed. I’ve never really searched for someone else to do that job.”

They shared a chuckle.

Helmith’s father seemed… so nice.

Much kinder and more rational than his title suggested.

Then Volke turned his attention to the golden trident. He lifted his sword, the constellation sparkling. “I assume you want me to destroy this, at the very least?”

The headmaster actually stepped between Volke and the trident. “Oh, no. There’s no need.” He held up a hand. “I want this.” He motioned to the shaft of the trident. “It’s made of abyssal coral, a material not found anywhere outside the hells themselves. But coral can be grown, as they are often a living aquatic colony. I need to research this, and see if there’s a way to produce abyssal coral here.”

Volke’s gaze hardened. “Adelgis… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We shouldn’t allow such a magical phenomenon go to waste.” The headmaster motioned Volke away. “I may never get another chance to examine something so rare.”

“What does this trident do as a weapon?”

“The trident itself seems to amplify the magic of the wielder, and it disrupts the magic of those it strikes. From what I’ve gathered, it actually shreds the souls of its victims. With arcanists, it limits their healing, and makes it more difficult to use their magic. For mortals, it drains them of energy.”

“Have you touched it?”

The headmaster shook his head. “Oh, no. It’s attuned to Death Lord Deimos. Only he can wield it. Anyone else would suffer damage to their very being. But the coral… I could reverse engineer it, I’m certain.”

Volke exhaled. “Abyssal coral probably grows by destroying magic, then. Or souls. Maybe a combination of the two. We really should just destroy the weapon.”

“We won’t know anything about the coral unless we experiment. Trust me. This will bring about something good. Either knowledge, or resources. And those are worth having.”

After a short moment of contemplation, Volke sheathed his weapon. In a tone devoid of emotion, he said, “You sound like your father when you talk like that.”

The headmaster said nothing. They stared at each other longer for a strained moment. The headmaster’s sphinx stepped closer to him, her hackles raised. She, too, said nothing.

Professor Helmith stepped close to her father. “Oh, would you look at the time? The sun is already tucking itself away behind the mountain peaks.”

I glanced at the window. A hint of orange streaked the sky.

Headmaster Venrover shook his head and glanced away. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to make things… awkward.” He brushed his hand along his sphinx’s back, calming her fur. “You must forgive me. No one has mentioned my family in some time.”

“What about Cinna?” Volke asked. “I thought you were on good terms with her.”

“Oh. Yes. I suppose I am. Her sphinx comes to play often. Just my father, then. I’d rather not think of him.”

The two shared a slight smile, and it seemed like all the tension in the room was gone.

I glanced over at the table.

The Warlord of Magic couldn’t destroy the gate fragments. We would need to find another way to deal with this situation. Nasbit’s words floated into my mind, and I realized I hadn’t done my due diligence in the matter.

I would need to go to the library and research every method of magical destruction. Perhaps I could help Professor Helmith discover a way to rid the world of this infernal gate.

Especially since the fragments caused my skin to crawl. I hated being in the same room. But what was more bizarre was the urge to get closer to them. Did they want me to touch them? Or was something on the other side of the broken gate reaching out to me?

I held Twain close. “Professor, can I go back to class now?”

Helmith nodded once. “Yes. Sorry, Gray. Thank you for taking the time to show my dad the effect you have on the fragments.”

“No problem.” I bowed to everyone and then turned on my heel.