Fanfic Archive: Into the Light, 9
May. 28th, 2009 12:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texchan(Written: 2004)
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence
Summary: Badly injured while protecting his companions from a magical creature the Heavenly Ones sealed away centuries ago, Orphen has no choice but to call on Childman for assistance and protection. Will the sorceror who was once his master come to his aid, or is Childman really bent on Orphen's destruction?
Legal Stuff: As always, this story is intended to express one fan's genuine appreciation of Sorcerous Stabber Orphen and its characters. It is just for fun and not for profit. If you have any rights in the anime described here and find the posting of this fanfiction offensive or harmful, please contact me, and I will be happy to remove it.
Into the Light
CHAPTER 9
Majic squinted up into the high, bright sun, using his arm to shield his face from its rays. It looked like it was probably close to noon, judging from the way the sun sat in the clear, blue sky. He was starving. He glanced over at Cleao, who was walking next to him, and knew that she was ready for a break, too. The girl was pale and exhausted, and she looked as if she would be unable to take another step. Orphen was stumbling along slightly behind them. Majic didn't even have to turn his head to pinpoint the young sorcerer's position. He could hear his master's feet slipping and skidding over the rocks as he tripped and almost fell again and again, just barely managing to catch himself in time to prevent a nasty spill onto the grassy, rocky mountain slope, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps that, to Majic's ears, sounded almost painful. Majic recognized that rattling sound. It was the sound of the walking dead --- of someone who was on their way to leaving this world. He knew his master was struggling to breathe, and it amazed him that Orphen was even still on his feet. Majic shook his head slowly as he thought that he had never met anyone whose will was as strong as his master's. He knew it was willpower alone that kept the young sorcerer stumbling forward now.
Majic sighed. He wanted to ask for a rest break, and, perhaps, time to eat something, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He looked forward again, only to see Childman's back. The tall sorcerer, headmaster of the Tower of Fang, walked a short distance in front of them. For three days now, Majic had seen nothing but Childman's back, ramrod straight, long black ponytail swinging from side-to-side in its middle. For three days Childman had led them into the mountains, not stopping to rest or eat, and urging them forward at a breakneck pace over the rising, rocky, uneven mountain terrain. Majic had begun to feel that the entire world had disappeared, leaving only this man's black-robed back walking in front of him, and the boy had started to despise the sight of it. He was tired of this endless walking, tired of being hungry, tired of seeing Cleao so exhausted, and, mostly, tired of listening to his master slowly dying as they trudged forward, higher and higher into the mountains. Majic was so angry at the older sorcerer. He fought back the urge to launch a series of flame balls at the straight, strong back in front of him, and choked back the thought that had been plaguing him for the past three days --- that, instead of having a cure for Orphen, Childman was attempting to assure the young sorcerer's demise by leading them on this wild goose chase up into the mountains. Majic shook his head in an attempt to dispel these dark thoughts. "No," he told himself, "it's not true. Master trusts Master Childman, and I trust Master. So, it will all be OK. It has to be."
Just as Majic was about to make what he knew would be a futile attempt at getting Childman to let them rest, the older sorcerer suddenly stopped. Majic, lost in thought and not paying attention, didn't realize their expedition leader had halted until he smacked into Childman's back. The force of the impact hurled Majic to the ground. He stood up, rubbing his sore rear end, and, in an uncharacteristic outburst probably caused by his exhaustion, fear, and frustration, snapped, "Hey! What's the big idea? For days you go on and on like a madman, never letting us stop, and, now, you stop right in the middle of the path, knocking me down!"
Childman turned and gave Majic one of the same smug, "teacher" smiles that Orphen was always giving him --- the kind of smile that said he was so clever and you, the student, were just a small, dull child. "If you had been paying attention, boy, you would have seen me stop. Falling down was your own fault. A sorcerer always has to have his wits about him. You have a great gift, boy, but you rely on it too much. You're just like my own idiotic student was at your age. I didn't understand it before, but, now, I can see why he's so devoted to you."
Majic gave Childman a shocked, surprised look. He turned to watch Orphen slowly, painfully struggling up the rocky path. The young sorcerer was breathing in ragged, painful gasps, and, despite the chilly mountain air, he was covered in sweat. He limped along like an old man, leaning heavily on a thick staff Childman had conjured for him. Majic knew, without a doubt, even though he could never say it out loud, that he loved Orphen. The young sorcerer had become like a substitute father or some kind of big brother to him in the months they had traveled together, and he knew he would follow his master anywhere --- even to the very gates of Hell. But, he had never really thought that Orphen cared much about him, although he had often found it strange that the young sorcerer even let him stay with him. Majic felt that he often got in the way, and he knew that there had been many times when Orphen would have been much better off on his own. This latest run-in with that Morph thing was a prime example. Yet, Orphen had never insisted that he or Cleao leave, a fact that Majic found astounding. But, he had never thought of it as being "devotion".
Majic turned his attention back to Childman, thinking that he would make some sort of response, but his words died on his lips as he saw the older sorcerer's expression. Childman was also watching Orphen struggle up the path toward them. Majic could see the frustration, anger, and fear in the older man's eyes, and he suddenly realized that letting Orphen slowly die was as hard for Childman as it was for him --- maybe even harder. Majic decided to not question the older sorcerer's comment. Childman obviously knew what it meant for a teacher to be devoted to his student. Even though he had been pursuing Orphen on the orders of the Tower of Fang, Majic could tell that he still cared deeply for the younger sorcerer. Majic could see a father's pain peeking out of Childman's dark, guarded eyes --- the one small indication that this man, who seemed as cold and hard as ice, had a very human soul with very human feelings and emotions. Majic decided that, if he hadn't learned anything else from this adventure, at least he had realized that outward appearances can be very deceptive.
Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, Orphen reached Childman and Majic. He stood, head down and panting heavily, leaning unsteadily on his staff. As he swayed and almost fell, both Majic and Childman automatically reached out to catch him. Their eyes met briefly over Orphen's bowed head before Childman looked away.
"M … master …," Orphen panted slowly, "we … need … to stop. Cleao's too … tired … to go … on." He pointed a little beyond them and off to Majic's left side. The boy turned to see that Cleao had slumped, exhausted, to a sitting position on the ground, her heavy pack dumped unceremoniously beside her, almost as soon as they had halted.
As Orphen swayed again, Childman caught him and eased him into a sitting position on the ground, supporting the younger sorcerer's back with his arm. "Frankly, Krylancelo," he said, slowly checking Orphen's wounds and pulse, "I'm a bit more concerned about you. I don't think you can go any farther." He looked from Orphen, to Majic, and then to Cleao and frowned. "Actually, you all look as if you're ready to drop. Three days with no rest and little food. I shouldn't have pushed you all forward like this. I'm sorry. It's just …"
His voice trailed off as Orphen shook his head and said, "No, Master. You were right. Time …" He paused as a wave of pain passed through his body, and then continued, placing his hand on Childman's, which rested on his shoulder, "time is of the essence." He looked directly into the older sorcerer's eyes and said, quietly, "I … I don't think … I don't think I … can hold on … much longer."
Childman nodded his understanding, and then turned to Majic, "The girl is too tired to continue on. There's a town nearby. I'll take her there, and we will return for her in a few days. We won't be able to stop to rest anymore after this. How are you, boy?"
Majic knew the older sorcerer could tell that he was about ready to drop from exhaustion, and he knew that Childman was offering him a way out. He knew Orphen wouldn't blame him for stopping and staying in the town with Cleao. Majic slowly shook his head and replied, "I'm tired, Master Childman. But, I'm not leaving him."
Childman nodded and motioned Majic forward, indicating that the boy should take his place beside Orphen. Majic did as he was instructed, and Childman re-positioned the young sorcerer so that he was leaning against the boy. "All right. Stay here with Krylancelo, then. I'll take the girl to the town and get her settled in an inn. I'll be back in a few moments."
Majic nodded and watched as Childman walked over, and gently picked up Cleao. He disappeared in a shimmer of reddish light, with the exhausted girl cradled protectively in his arms.
**********************************************************
Majic sighed and quickly surveyed their surroundings. They were in a meadow in the foothills at the base of a very large mountain. Although they were surrounded by green grass, which spread as far as Majic could see, the landscape was dotted with rocks and large boulders, making it look surreal and other-worldly. Finally, Majic spotted one boulder of sufficient size and mass.
"Come on, Master," Majic grunted, lifting Orphen from the ground. "Let's go sit over next to that boulder, OK?" He half-carried, half-dragged his master toward the large boulder. He didn't think that Childman would be gone for a very long time, but he was exhausted, and Orphen was heavy. He didn't think he had the strength to support the young sorcerer even for the few minutes it would take the older man to deposit Cleao at the inn.
"There you go," Majic said, panting from the effort of hauling his master over the small stretch of ground to his chosen resting spot. He gently eased Orphen down into a sitting position on the boulder's shady side, so that the young sorcerer was leaning back against the rock. "How's that," he asked as Orphen settled into a fairly comfortable position.
"Mmmm. Thanks, Majic," Orphen mumbled. He slumped forward, to hold his head in his hands. "Damn, it's cold up here, isn't it? We're not even that high up. Who woulda thought it'd be so damn cold?" he muttered, half to himself. He wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to stop the violent shivering that seemed to have taken control of his body.
Majic rose and quickly made his way to Cleao's pack, which had been left behind when Childman spirited her away. Although he normally carried the backpack, Cleao had volunteered for pack duty so that Majic would have his hands free to help Orphen, if necessary. The boy dragged the heavy satchel over to where Orphen was sitting. He couldn't remember the bag being this heavy before, and thought, 'No wonder Cleao was so exhausted. This thing weighs a ton.' Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks as a new thought hit him, 'Shit! With her gone, I'm gonna have to carry this stupid thing! I shoulda gone with her.' Remembering the task at hand, he shook off his thoughts, and began to rummage through the bag.
"This'll just take a minute, Master," Majic muttered as he searched through the backpack. Finally, he found one of their blankets, and he wrapped it around Orphen's shivering body. "How's that?"
"S'okay," Orphen replied. He lifted his head slightly to look at his student. "Seems like something's bothering you. Are you feeling OK?" He reached up to slide his hand under Majic's bangs so that he could feel the boy's forehead. "You're not getting sick, are you? I shoulda made you go with Cleao. This is too hard on you."
"Master, it's OK. I'm fine. I feel fine," Majic replied. He couldn't believe his master, who was so sick, was sitting here worrying about him. He could feel Orphen's hand trembling as it rested against his forehead, and he reached up to gently take hold of it. "I was just thinking that, now that Cleao's gone, I'm going to have to carry that darn backpack," he said, laughing softly. "Selfish, huh?"
Orphen laughed in response, "No way, that thing's damn heavy. Why do you think I always make you guys carry it? I swear, that woman takes everything but the kitchen sink with her when she travels. And, she's always shopping --- like she really needs any more crap. I'll never understand her. She really is the most irritating girl." He shook his head, as if trying to figure out exactly why he let Cleao hang around, but Majic could see the slight smile that played across his master's face. He knew, even if Orphen had yet to figure it out, that the young sorcerer cared about Cleao --- even if she was a loud, angry, ditzy broad. "Guess I'm getting pretty soft in my old age, huh? Ever since I met you …" His voice trailed off as he started to cough.
Majic frowned as Orphen doubled over from the coughing fit. It seemed to suck all of his energy. Majic pulled the young sorcerer over so that Orphen's head rested in his lap, and he gently held him as the dry, heaving coughs made his body shudder and shake. He was surprised when the young sorcerer didn't fight him or try to pull away from his embrace, and he was shocked at how thin and frail Orphen's body had become. The sorcerer's loose clothing had effectively hidden it from their view, but he had become nothing more than skin and bones. Now, holding him like this, Majic could feel each and every bone in Orphen's body.
Finally, the coughing stopped, leaving Orphen exhausted and gasping for breath. "Are you OK, Master?" he asked softly.
Orphen didn't try to free himself from Majic's embrace. He shifted slightly to a more comfortable position and leaned heavily against the boy, replying, "Majic, it won't be much longer now. I can feel it … coming. I never … never … wanted you to … go through this." He clenched his teeth against a wave of pain that coursed through his body, and slowly continued, "I know … this is … like when … your mom … died. You shouldn't have … to go through that … twice. Why … why didn't … you leave … when I … said?"
Majic's arms tightened protectively around the young sorcerer, and he choked back his tears. What Orphen said was the truth. His mother had died when he was very young, but he could still remember how she had been sick for a long time, how his father had sat next to her bed, crying and holding her hand, and how he had begged her to not leave him. He had been remembering it ever since Orphen was first injured in the fight with Morph, and, in his mind, he had once again become that same scared, little boy. As always, he was surprised at how well Orphen knew him. He couldn't believe that his master, even so close to death, had been able to read his thoughts so easily.
"I … I just couldn't leave you, Master. Remember that time when I accidentally ate those poisonous mushrooms?"
Orphen laughed softly, and said, almost to himself, "Oh, man! I've never seen anyone so sick in my whole damn life. You were out of it with a fever for days." He paused as another coughing fit shook his body. "I never said, but I … was really … scared. I can't … remember ever being that … scared. I … really … thought you … weren't gonna make it …" His voice trailed off, as if he was remembering that time.
"And," Majic said, resting his chin gently on the top of Orphen's head, "you stayed up with me … the whole time I was sick. I remember waking up and seeing you," Majic smiled as he remembered waking up to see Orphen's pale, haggard face staring down at him, "and you just looked like hell. I thought you were the one who was sick! And, you remember that time we were up in those high cliffs and that wizard attacked us?" When Orphen didn't answer, Majic panicked slightly and gently shook the young sorcerer, "Do you, Master? Do you remember?"
"Yeah," Orphen mumbled, his voice was barely a whisper. "How could I forget? That damn wizard … he was … strong. He fired an energy blast … caused a landslide. You got … caught in it … swept off a cliff. I … thought … you were … a goner … for sure."
"But," Majic interrupted, "you used your power to catch me before I fell. But, because of that, you couldn't protect yourself, and he hit you with that powerful spell." He swallowed back tears as he remembered seeing his master hit with the full force of the wizard's attack, which swept him off of the very same cliff from which he'd saved Majic just moments before. He remembered how he and Cleao had desperately searched for Orphen, finally finding him unconscious, bruised, and battered, under a pile of rubble. "Those times, and so many others --- more than I can even count, Master, you … could have … left me, and avoided being hurt or …" his voice trailed off as he swallowed before continuing, "scared. But you never did."
"I … couldn't … Majic. I just … couldn't."
"Right," Majic replied, pulling Orphen closer to him. He could feel his master slowly, quietly slipping away, and tears traced tracks down his cheeks to fall in the young sorcerer's thick, brown hair. He choked back a sob, and said, quietly, "Because you're my master. I know … you try to hide it … but I know you care about me and Cleao … about what happens to … us. And, … that's why … I couldn't leave, either." Majic finally gave up on fighting back his sobs. He hadn't wanted Orphen to know how scared and sad he was, but he just couldn't hold it back any longer. He gave in to the urge he'd been struggling against ever since Orphen first got hurt and sobbed openly. He could feel his body shaking with each anguished cry, and the teas poured off of his face to soak into Orphen's hair. After several minutes, he managed to bring himself under control once again, and he managed to gasp out, "Besides, we made it through, right?" His voice grew stronger as he formulated his thought into a coherent sentence, as if, by saying it just right, his wish would act like a spell to make everything right --- to put everything back the way it should be. "Each of those times, it was bad, and we made it through. We always do, right?"
"Majic," Orphen mumbled. His voice was so soft, and his words were slurred so that Majic had to strain to hear them, even though he still held the sorcerer in his arms. Orphen reached up, as if he was going to ruffle Majic's hair, as he always did when he wanted to comfort the boy, but he didn't have enough strength left. His hand fell limply to the ground, and Majic jumped at the slight thudding noise it made as it hit the dirt.
Majic could hear Orphen's breathing slowing --- one labored, strangled breath, then a pause, while the young blonde held his own breath, silently praying that there would be one more, then another breath, then another pause, and, then … nothing. As the sound of Orphen's last breath died out, Majic tightened his grip on the young sorcerer again, as if he could prevent him from dying just by hanging on tightly enough. But, he knew it was useless. Through his master's thin body, Majic could feel his heart slowing. Suddenly, he was that same little boy who had thrown himself across his mother's dying body, begging her not to leave him. He sobbed, lowering his face into Orphen's thick hair and choked out, in a muffled voice, "Please … please, Master. Please … don't … don't leave me."
"I'm … sorry … Majic. I … can't. Take … care of … Cleao, and … tell her … I'm … sorry," Orphen whispered. And, then, he was gone.
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Majic didn't know how long he sat there, crying and cradling his master's body. It was as if time had stopped for him with the last beat of Orphen's heart. This wasn't right. He kept telling himself that this wasn't right. It couldn't be right. He couldn't be sitting here holding his master's dead body. But, deep inside his heart, he knew. He knew, even though he tried to fool himself, that it was true, and nothing would ever be right again.
Slowly, Majic became aware of someone gently shaking him and calling to him. He looked up into Childman's face. The older sorcerer's eyes were dark with worry, fear, and grief, and Majic was surprised to see tears there.
"Boy. Boy, are you all right?" he called softly, hoping to snap Majic out of the shock that had taken hold of him. He had felt the ripple when Krylancelo had died. It was always thus when a sorcerer died. Any other sorcerer could feel his passing. But, even if he hadn't felt it for himself, he would have known the moment he saw the boy. He had reappeared near them after getting the girl settled in the town inn, and he had immediately seen Majic, sobbing and rocking back and forth, cradling Krylancelo's still body. Childman reached out to gently push the younger sorcerer's hair out of his face and smiled even as tears came to his eyes. Krylancelo never had been able to manage his unruly hair. Childman could remember him as a young boy, younger than Majic, protesting as Azalie tried to comb the tangles out of that mane of thick, dark hair. Azalie. Before turning into the magical dragon she was now, she had been a very powerful sorceress, and like a sister to Krylancelo and a daughter ... and, though he had barely dared to even hope it --- maybe more than a daughter ... to him. Now, they were both gone --- lost to him --- and he didn't know if he could save either one. He felt grief ripping his heart in two, and he wondered bitterly if the Council at the Tower of Fang had been able to feel Krylancelo's death, too, and, if so, whether they were satisfied.
Majic looked up at him with eyes that were puffy and red from crying. When Childman looked into the boy's face, he saw fear, grief, anguish, and abandonment. His heart immediately went out to Majic, as he recognized that expression. Suddenly, it was as if they were years into the past, and he was looking into Krylancelo's eyes on the day Azalie became the dragon. The expression he had seen in Krylancelo's face --- like an abandoned, cornered wild animal --- was the same look that now assaulted him from Majic. Childman silently wondered why he had to live through this again. Sometimes, when he had been pursuing Krylancelo, knowing that the boy he had raised, the boy he so loved, hated him, Childman had thought he was being punished, perhaps for some transgression he had committed in a previous life. But, he didn't think he could have ever done anything that was deserving of this kind of punishment, this kind of torture. He fought the urge to look away as Majic desperately grabbed at the front of his robes.
"M … master … Childman," Majic sobbed, "He's … gone. My … master … he's … dead."
Childman couldn't think of any words to comfort the boy, so, as he had done all those years ago for Krylancelo, he wordlessly hugged Majic to him, letting the boy sob freely into his chest, without trying to comfort him, until he felt hot tears soaking through his robes. Finally, after thirty or forty minutes, the boy's sobs began to subside, and, slowly, his body stopped shaking. Childman gently pushed Majic away, and, closing his eyes, he laid his hand lightly on Orphen's chest and began to softly chant a spell that was completely unfamiliar to Majic.
Majic watched in amazement, his crying silenced, as Orphen's skin began to glow with Childman's continued chanting. Slowly, as the strange spell climaxed, the glow increased, spreading over Orphen's limp body, which was curled up, still cradled within the protective circle of Majic's arms. The glow became a blinding white light and, then, quickly faded with the ending of Childman's chant.
As the chant and glowing light faded, Childman gently placed his hand against Orphen's head. When he looked into Majic's face, the boy saw tears in his eyes, but he was also smiling. He gently pried Majic's arms from around Orphen and rose from his kneeling position, carefully lifting the young sorcerer's limp body as he stood, carefully shifting around so that it was cradled in his arms, like a limp doll. Without turning to look at Majic, Childman walked away, calling over his shoulder, "Come on, boy. There may still be hope, but we must hurry. There's not much time."
Warnings: Bad Language. Violence
Summary: Badly injured while protecting his companions from a magical creature the Heavenly Ones sealed away centuries ago, Orphen has no choice but to call on Childman for assistance and protection. Will the sorceror who was once his master come to his aid, or is Childman really bent on Orphen's destruction?
Legal Stuff: As always, this story is intended to express one fan's genuine appreciation of Sorcerous Stabber Orphen and its characters. It is just for fun and not for profit. If you have any rights in the anime described here and find the posting of this fanfiction offensive or harmful, please contact me, and I will be happy to remove it.
CHAPTER 9
Majic squinted up into the high, bright sun, using his arm to shield his face from its rays. It looked like it was probably close to noon, judging from the way the sun sat in the clear, blue sky. He was starving. He glanced over at Cleao, who was walking next to him, and knew that she was ready for a break, too. The girl was pale and exhausted, and she looked as if she would be unable to take another step. Orphen was stumbling along slightly behind them. Majic didn't even have to turn his head to pinpoint the young sorcerer's position. He could hear his master's feet slipping and skidding over the rocks as he tripped and almost fell again and again, just barely managing to catch himself in time to prevent a nasty spill onto the grassy, rocky mountain slope, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps that, to Majic's ears, sounded almost painful. Majic recognized that rattling sound. It was the sound of the walking dead --- of someone who was on their way to leaving this world. He knew his master was struggling to breathe, and it amazed him that Orphen was even still on his feet. Majic shook his head slowly as he thought that he had never met anyone whose will was as strong as his master's. He knew it was willpower alone that kept the young sorcerer stumbling forward now.
Majic sighed. He wanted to ask for a rest break, and, perhaps, time to eat something, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He looked forward again, only to see Childman's back. The tall sorcerer, headmaster of the Tower of Fang, walked a short distance in front of them. For three days now, Majic had seen nothing but Childman's back, ramrod straight, long black ponytail swinging from side-to-side in its middle. For three days Childman had led them into the mountains, not stopping to rest or eat, and urging them forward at a breakneck pace over the rising, rocky, uneven mountain terrain. Majic had begun to feel that the entire world had disappeared, leaving only this man's black-robed back walking in front of him, and the boy had started to despise the sight of it. He was tired of this endless walking, tired of being hungry, tired of seeing Cleao so exhausted, and, mostly, tired of listening to his master slowly dying as they trudged forward, higher and higher into the mountains. Majic was so angry at the older sorcerer. He fought back the urge to launch a series of flame balls at the straight, strong back in front of him, and choked back the thought that had been plaguing him for the past three days --- that, instead of having a cure for Orphen, Childman was attempting to assure the young sorcerer's demise by leading them on this wild goose chase up into the mountains. Majic shook his head in an attempt to dispel these dark thoughts. "No," he told himself, "it's not true. Master trusts Master Childman, and I trust Master. So, it will all be OK. It has to be."
Just as Majic was about to make what he knew would be a futile attempt at getting Childman to let them rest, the older sorcerer suddenly stopped. Majic, lost in thought and not paying attention, didn't realize their expedition leader had halted until he smacked into Childman's back. The force of the impact hurled Majic to the ground. He stood up, rubbing his sore rear end, and, in an uncharacteristic outburst probably caused by his exhaustion, fear, and frustration, snapped, "Hey! What's the big idea? For days you go on and on like a madman, never letting us stop, and, now, you stop right in the middle of the path, knocking me down!"
Childman turned and gave Majic one of the same smug, "teacher" smiles that Orphen was always giving him --- the kind of smile that said he was so clever and you, the student, were just a small, dull child. "If you had been paying attention, boy, you would have seen me stop. Falling down was your own fault. A sorcerer always has to have his wits about him. You have a great gift, boy, but you rely on it too much. You're just like my own idiotic student was at your age. I didn't understand it before, but, now, I can see why he's so devoted to you."
Majic gave Childman a shocked, surprised look. He turned to watch Orphen slowly, painfully struggling up the rocky path. The young sorcerer was breathing in ragged, painful gasps, and, despite the chilly mountain air, he was covered in sweat. He limped along like an old man, leaning heavily on a thick staff Childman had conjured for him. Majic knew, without a doubt, even though he could never say it out loud, that he loved Orphen. The young sorcerer had become like a substitute father or some kind of big brother to him in the months they had traveled together, and he knew he would follow his master anywhere --- even to the very gates of Hell. But, he had never really thought that Orphen cared much about him, although he had often found it strange that the young sorcerer even let him stay with him. Majic felt that he often got in the way, and he knew that there had been many times when Orphen would have been much better off on his own. This latest run-in with that Morph thing was a prime example. Yet, Orphen had never insisted that he or Cleao leave, a fact that Majic found astounding. But, he had never thought of it as being "devotion".
Majic turned his attention back to Childman, thinking that he would make some sort of response, but his words died on his lips as he saw the older sorcerer's expression. Childman was also watching Orphen struggle up the path toward them. Majic could see the frustration, anger, and fear in the older man's eyes, and he suddenly realized that letting Orphen slowly die was as hard for Childman as it was for him --- maybe even harder. Majic decided to not question the older sorcerer's comment. Childman obviously knew what it meant for a teacher to be devoted to his student. Even though he had been pursuing Orphen on the orders of the Tower of Fang, Majic could tell that he still cared deeply for the younger sorcerer. Majic could see a father's pain peeking out of Childman's dark, guarded eyes --- the one small indication that this man, who seemed as cold and hard as ice, had a very human soul with very human feelings and emotions. Majic decided that, if he hadn't learned anything else from this adventure, at least he had realized that outward appearances can be very deceptive.
Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, Orphen reached Childman and Majic. He stood, head down and panting heavily, leaning unsteadily on his staff. As he swayed and almost fell, both Majic and Childman automatically reached out to catch him. Their eyes met briefly over Orphen's bowed head before Childman looked away.
"M … master …," Orphen panted slowly, "we … need … to stop. Cleao's too … tired … to go … on." He pointed a little beyond them and off to Majic's left side. The boy turned to see that Cleao had slumped, exhausted, to a sitting position on the ground, her heavy pack dumped unceremoniously beside her, almost as soon as they had halted.
As Orphen swayed again, Childman caught him and eased him into a sitting position on the ground, supporting the younger sorcerer's back with his arm. "Frankly, Krylancelo," he said, slowly checking Orphen's wounds and pulse, "I'm a bit more concerned about you. I don't think you can go any farther." He looked from Orphen, to Majic, and then to Cleao and frowned. "Actually, you all look as if you're ready to drop. Three days with no rest and little food. I shouldn't have pushed you all forward like this. I'm sorry. It's just …"
His voice trailed off as Orphen shook his head and said, "No, Master. You were right. Time …" He paused as a wave of pain passed through his body, and then continued, placing his hand on Childman's, which rested on his shoulder, "time is of the essence." He looked directly into the older sorcerer's eyes and said, quietly, "I … I don't think … I don't think I … can hold on … much longer."
Childman nodded his understanding, and then turned to Majic, "The girl is too tired to continue on. There's a town nearby. I'll take her there, and we will return for her in a few days. We won't be able to stop to rest anymore after this. How are you, boy?"
Majic knew the older sorcerer could tell that he was about ready to drop from exhaustion, and he knew that Childman was offering him a way out. He knew Orphen wouldn't blame him for stopping and staying in the town with Cleao. Majic slowly shook his head and replied, "I'm tired, Master Childman. But, I'm not leaving him."
Childman nodded and motioned Majic forward, indicating that the boy should take his place beside Orphen. Majic did as he was instructed, and Childman re-positioned the young sorcerer so that he was leaning against the boy. "All right. Stay here with Krylancelo, then. I'll take the girl to the town and get her settled in an inn. I'll be back in a few moments."
Majic nodded and watched as Childman walked over, and gently picked up Cleao. He disappeared in a shimmer of reddish light, with the exhausted girl cradled protectively in his arms.
**********************************************************
Majic sighed and quickly surveyed their surroundings. They were in a meadow in the foothills at the base of a very large mountain. Although they were surrounded by green grass, which spread as far as Majic could see, the landscape was dotted with rocks and large boulders, making it look surreal and other-worldly. Finally, Majic spotted one boulder of sufficient size and mass.
"Come on, Master," Majic grunted, lifting Orphen from the ground. "Let's go sit over next to that boulder, OK?" He half-carried, half-dragged his master toward the large boulder. He didn't think that Childman would be gone for a very long time, but he was exhausted, and Orphen was heavy. He didn't think he had the strength to support the young sorcerer even for the few minutes it would take the older man to deposit Cleao at the inn.
"There you go," Majic said, panting from the effort of hauling his master over the small stretch of ground to his chosen resting spot. He gently eased Orphen down into a sitting position on the boulder's shady side, so that the young sorcerer was leaning back against the rock. "How's that," he asked as Orphen settled into a fairly comfortable position.
"Mmmm. Thanks, Majic," Orphen mumbled. He slumped forward, to hold his head in his hands. "Damn, it's cold up here, isn't it? We're not even that high up. Who woulda thought it'd be so damn cold?" he muttered, half to himself. He wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to stop the violent shivering that seemed to have taken control of his body.
Majic rose and quickly made his way to Cleao's pack, which had been left behind when Childman spirited her away. Although he normally carried the backpack, Cleao had volunteered for pack duty so that Majic would have his hands free to help Orphen, if necessary. The boy dragged the heavy satchel over to where Orphen was sitting. He couldn't remember the bag being this heavy before, and thought, 'No wonder Cleao was so exhausted. This thing weighs a ton.' Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks as a new thought hit him, 'Shit! With her gone, I'm gonna have to carry this stupid thing! I shoulda gone with her.' Remembering the task at hand, he shook off his thoughts, and began to rummage through the bag.
"This'll just take a minute, Master," Majic muttered as he searched through the backpack. Finally, he found one of their blankets, and he wrapped it around Orphen's shivering body. "How's that?"
"S'okay," Orphen replied. He lifted his head slightly to look at his student. "Seems like something's bothering you. Are you feeling OK?" He reached up to slide his hand under Majic's bangs so that he could feel the boy's forehead. "You're not getting sick, are you? I shoulda made you go with Cleao. This is too hard on you."
"Master, it's OK. I'm fine. I feel fine," Majic replied. He couldn't believe his master, who was so sick, was sitting here worrying about him. He could feel Orphen's hand trembling as it rested against his forehead, and he reached up to gently take hold of it. "I was just thinking that, now that Cleao's gone, I'm going to have to carry that darn backpack," he said, laughing softly. "Selfish, huh?"
Orphen laughed in response, "No way, that thing's damn heavy. Why do you think I always make you guys carry it? I swear, that woman takes everything but the kitchen sink with her when she travels. And, she's always shopping --- like she really needs any more crap. I'll never understand her. She really is the most irritating girl." He shook his head, as if trying to figure out exactly why he let Cleao hang around, but Majic could see the slight smile that played across his master's face. He knew, even if Orphen had yet to figure it out, that the young sorcerer cared about Cleao --- even if she was a loud, angry, ditzy broad. "Guess I'm getting pretty soft in my old age, huh? Ever since I met you …" His voice trailed off as he started to cough.
Majic frowned as Orphen doubled over from the coughing fit. It seemed to suck all of his energy. Majic pulled the young sorcerer over so that Orphen's head rested in his lap, and he gently held him as the dry, heaving coughs made his body shudder and shake. He was surprised when the young sorcerer didn't fight him or try to pull away from his embrace, and he was shocked at how thin and frail Orphen's body had become. The sorcerer's loose clothing had effectively hidden it from their view, but he had become nothing more than skin and bones. Now, holding him like this, Majic could feel each and every bone in Orphen's body.
Finally, the coughing stopped, leaving Orphen exhausted and gasping for breath. "Are you OK, Master?" he asked softly.
Orphen didn't try to free himself from Majic's embrace. He shifted slightly to a more comfortable position and leaned heavily against the boy, replying, "Majic, it won't be much longer now. I can feel it … coming. I never … never … wanted you to … go through this." He clenched his teeth against a wave of pain that coursed through his body, and slowly continued, "I know … this is … like when … your mom … died. You shouldn't have … to go through that … twice. Why … why didn't … you leave … when I … said?"
Majic's arms tightened protectively around the young sorcerer, and he choked back his tears. What Orphen said was the truth. His mother had died when he was very young, but he could still remember how she had been sick for a long time, how his father had sat next to her bed, crying and holding her hand, and how he had begged her to not leave him. He had been remembering it ever since Orphen was first injured in the fight with Morph, and, in his mind, he had once again become that same scared, little boy. As always, he was surprised at how well Orphen knew him. He couldn't believe that his master, even so close to death, had been able to read his thoughts so easily.
"I … I just couldn't leave you, Master. Remember that time when I accidentally ate those poisonous mushrooms?"
Orphen laughed softly, and said, almost to himself, "Oh, man! I've never seen anyone so sick in my whole damn life. You were out of it with a fever for days." He paused as another coughing fit shook his body. "I never said, but I … was really … scared. I can't … remember ever being that … scared. I … really … thought you … weren't gonna make it …" His voice trailed off, as if he was remembering that time.
"And," Majic said, resting his chin gently on the top of Orphen's head, "you stayed up with me … the whole time I was sick. I remember waking up and seeing you," Majic smiled as he remembered waking up to see Orphen's pale, haggard face staring down at him, "and you just looked like hell. I thought you were the one who was sick! And, you remember that time we were up in those high cliffs and that wizard attacked us?" When Orphen didn't answer, Majic panicked slightly and gently shook the young sorcerer, "Do you, Master? Do you remember?"
"Yeah," Orphen mumbled, his voice was barely a whisper. "How could I forget? That damn wizard … he was … strong. He fired an energy blast … caused a landslide. You got … caught in it … swept off a cliff. I … thought … you were … a goner … for sure."
"But," Majic interrupted, "you used your power to catch me before I fell. But, because of that, you couldn't protect yourself, and he hit you with that powerful spell." He swallowed back tears as he remembered seeing his master hit with the full force of the wizard's attack, which swept him off of the very same cliff from which he'd saved Majic just moments before. He remembered how he and Cleao had desperately searched for Orphen, finally finding him unconscious, bruised, and battered, under a pile of rubble. "Those times, and so many others --- more than I can even count, Master, you … could have … left me, and avoided being hurt or …" his voice trailed off as he swallowed before continuing, "scared. But you never did."
"I … couldn't … Majic. I just … couldn't."
"Right," Majic replied, pulling Orphen closer to him. He could feel his master slowly, quietly slipping away, and tears traced tracks down his cheeks to fall in the young sorcerer's thick, brown hair. He choked back a sob, and said, quietly, "Because you're my master. I know … you try to hide it … but I know you care about me and Cleao … about what happens to … us. And, … that's why … I couldn't leave, either." Majic finally gave up on fighting back his sobs. He hadn't wanted Orphen to know how scared and sad he was, but he just couldn't hold it back any longer. He gave in to the urge he'd been struggling against ever since Orphen first got hurt and sobbed openly. He could feel his body shaking with each anguished cry, and the teas poured off of his face to soak into Orphen's hair. After several minutes, he managed to bring himself under control once again, and he managed to gasp out, "Besides, we made it through, right?" His voice grew stronger as he formulated his thought into a coherent sentence, as if, by saying it just right, his wish would act like a spell to make everything right --- to put everything back the way it should be. "Each of those times, it was bad, and we made it through. We always do, right?"
"Majic," Orphen mumbled. His voice was so soft, and his words were slurred so that Majic had to strain to hear them, even though he still held the sorcerer in his arms. Orphen reached up, as if he was going to ruffle Majic's hair, as he always did when he wanted to comfort the boy, but he didn't have enough strength left. His hand fell limply to the ground, and Majic jumped at the slight thudding noise it made as it hit the dirt.
Majic could hear Orphen's breathing slowing --- one labored, strangled breath, then a pause, while the young blonde held his own breath, silently praying that there would be one more, then another breath, then another pause, and, then … nothing. As the sound of Orphen's last breath died out, Majic tightened his grip on the young sorcerer again, as if he could prevent him from dying just by hanging on tightly enough. But, he knew it was useless. Through his master's thin body, Majic could feel his heart slowing. Suddenly, he was that same little boy who had thrown himself across his mother's dying body, begging her not to leave him. He sobbed, lowering his face into Orphen's thick hair and choked out, in a muffled voice, "Please … please, Master. Please … don't … don't leave me."
"I'm … sorry … Majic. I … can't. Take … care of … Cleao, and … tell her … I'm … sorry," Orphen whispered. And, then, he was gone.
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Majic didn't know how long he sat there, crying and cradling his master's body. It was as if time had stopped for him with the last beat of Orphen's heart. This wasn't right. He kept telling himself that this wasn't right. It couldn't be right. He couldn't be sitting here holding his master's dead body. But, deep inside his heart, he knew. He knew, even though he tried to fool himself, that it was true, and nothing would ever be right again.
Slowly, Majic became aware of someone gently shaking him and calling to him. He looked up into Childman's face. The older sorcerer's eyes were dark with worry, fear, and grief, and Majic was surprised to see tears there.
"Boy. Boy, are you all right?" he called softly, hoping to snap Majic out of the shock that had taken hold of him. He had felt the ripple when Krylancelo had died. It was always thus when a sorcerer died. Any other sorcerer could feel his passing. But, even if he hadn't felt it for himself, he would have known the moment he saw the boy. He had reappeared near them after getting the girl settled in the town inn, and he had immediately seen Majic, sobbing and rocking back and forth, cradling Krylancelo's still body. Childman reached out to gently push the younger sorcerer's hair out of his face and smiled even as tears came to his eyes. Krylancelo never had been able to manage his unruly hair. Childman could remember him as a young boy, younger than Majic, protesting as Azalie tried to comb the tangles out of that mane of thick, dark hair. Azalie. Before turning into the magical dragon she was now, she had been a very powerful sorceress, and like a sister to Krylancelo and a daughter ... and, though he had barely dared to even hope it --- maybe more than a daughter ... to him. Now, they were both gone --- lost to him --- and he didn't know if he could save either one. He felt grief ripping his heart in two, and he wondered bitterly if the Council at the Tower of Fang had been able to feel Krylancelo's death, too, and, if so, whether they were satisfied.
Majic looked up at him with eyes that were puffy and red from crying. When Childman looked into the boy's face, he saw fear, grief, anguish, and abandonment. His heart immediately went out to Majic, as he recognized that expression. Suddenly, it was as if they were years into the past, and he was looking into Krylancelo's eyes on the day Azalie became the dragon. The expression he had seen in Krylancelo's face --- like an abandoned, cornered wild animal --- was the same look that now assaulted him from Majic. Childman silently wondered why he had to live through this again. Sometimes, when he had been pursuing Krylancelo, knowing that the boy he had raised, the boy he so loved, hated him, Childman had thought he was being punished, perhaps for some transgression he had committed in a previous life. But, he didn't think he could have ever done anything that was deserving of this kind of punishment, this kind of torture. He fought the urge to look away as Majic desperately grabbed at the front of his robes.
"M … master … Childman," Majic sobbed, "He's … gone. My … master … he's … dead."
Childman couldn't think of any words to comfort the boy, so, as he had done all those years ago for Krylancelo, he wordlessly hugged Majic to him, letting the boy sob freely into his chest, without trying to comfort him, until he felt hot tears soaking through his robes. Finally, after thirty or forty minutes, the boy's sobs began to subside, and, slowly, his body stopped shaking. Childman gently pushed Majic away, and, closing his eyes, he laid his hand lightly on Orphen's chest and began to softly chant a spell that was completely unfamiliar to Majic.
Majic watched in amazement, his crying silenced, as Orphen's skin began to glow with Childman's continued chanting. Slowly, as the strange spell climaxed, the glow increased, spreading over Orphen's limp body, which was curled up, still cradled within the protective circle of Majic's arms. The glow became a blinding white light and, then, quickly faded with the ending of Childman's chant.
As the chant and glowing light faded, Childman gently placed his hand against Orphen's head. When he looked into Majic's face, the boy saw tears in his eyes, but he was also smiling. He gently pried Majic's arms from around Orphen and rose from his kneeling position, carefully lifting the young sorcerer's limp body as he stood, carefully shifting around so that it was cradled in his arms, like a limp doll. Without turning to look at Majic, Childman walked away, calling over his shoulder, "Come on, boy. There may still be hope, but we must hurry. There's not much time."