Slow Burn

[Black Mage]

Daenerys looked at the Black Mage for a moment, then turned to look at one door, then another, then another. There was a strained look on her face, and she didn’t have to say anything for him to realize that she didn’t remember.

“We’ll just go forward then.” The Black Mage declared as he knelt down and picked up one of their magic sticks and tossed it towards Daenerys. She had her claws yes, but the weapons were ranged and perhaps they’d help her feel more human, if not more safe as well. Walking forward he put a hand on the doorknob as he leaned his ear across the board. Turning his hand he creaked the door slightly forward, trying to keep the barrier between him and possible enemies. He held it there but no magic bolts came to the door, nor could he hear the footsteps of charging knights. Slowly pushing the door open he revealed to the duo an empty hallway.

The Black Mage let out a deep breath of release as he saw its contents, then pushed forward, attempting a quiet though hastened pace. The Lady Stormborn didn’t need any signaling from him to follow with caution rather than speed. They were in hostile territory with no idea of floorplan, and neither of them wished to find themselves in a cell the next morning. At the end of the hallway was another door, but this one stopped at turn. Locked.

“Heat of the Light, show your flame. Fire.” The Black Mage whispered and melted the lock. A glance back showed Daenerys aiming the magic-stick at the door. Keeping his right hand on the door he held up three fingers, then two, then one, and then the door was thrust open, to reveal what appeared to be the barracks. At least a dozen of the Imperial Knights were there, half in uniform while the other half lounged about in their undergarments. The Black Mage threw a fireball then rolled forward, attempting to get behind a nearby bed as Daenerys came forward firing the magic weapon as she similarly found cover. The surprise of the door opening bought them a moment of surprise, and a couple of kills, but around nine soldiers darted for cover as they took their arms in hand and exchanged fire. He threw a few more fireballs as Daenerys continued to retaliate with their strange weapon, but in the stalemate of using simple beds as trenches their situation was dire. A plan had to be made.

“Lady Stormborn, get into the hallway. I’ve got them.” He yelled, but she just kept relaying coverfire.

“There are too many, you can’t handle them yourself!” She replied as wood splintered around them from their cover being destroyed.

“This mage has a spell or two up his sleeve, but you need to get out of the blast. Go now!” The Black Mage yelled and Daenerys held for a moment before heading back into the hallway, shooting as she backpedaled. The Black Mage knelt down and put his left palm on the ground and closed his eyes, magic surged through his hands and began to craft runes onto the prison floor.

“Mother Earth, see my foes and unleash your wrath. Quake!” The Black Mage yelled before punching his right hand to the ground. A seismic wave rushed through the room, knocking the troopers back before stalagmites erupted through the ground, skewering the imperials. His enemies felled the Black Mage let out a small chuckle, thinking it was over.

But one did not shake the earth inside a cave without disrupting it’s foundation.

The walls shook and the ceiling began to crumble. “Lady Stormborn, get back!” He said and tried to rush back to the hallway with her, but a rain of boulders blocked his path. Walls still rumbling the Black Mage ran to the direction of safety, away from the Lady Stormborn.

“I’ll be back for you.” He yelled as he ran, heading out of the barracks, away from the cave-in, and luckily into the harsh sun once again. Circling the underground prison he tried to look for another way in, but was quickly assailed by blasterfire from Imperial reinforcements. With no other options the Black Mage ran away from the prison, the Empire, and the woman he’d sworn to protect.



“What are you running from kid?” The Black Mage heard some hours later and turned, ice shard ready, to attack whoever might come. What he saw seemed a simple merchant, dressed in brown covering garb from the sun.

“Woah there, woah there, I’m not trying to hurt you. Now, where are your clothes?” The Black Mage paused.

“They were taken from me. I upset some folk because I was a . . . prime.” The Black Mage said as his shoulders slumped a bit.

“A prime hunh? On the run from the Empire I take it. Well, I wish you luck, but you’ll not get far in the Dunes with no clothes and no help. Why don’t you try conjuring some clothes?” Conjuring clothes? His magic couldn’t- but Omni said-

“I will try.” The Black Mage said and held his hands out, focusing and crafting a simple straw hat in his mind. A few moments later and it was formed, and a smile came over his face for only a moment before it disappeared, the shadows of his hand enveloping it. Another moment, another focusing, and his blue coat was formed once again.

“Not bad kid. Now,if you’re fightin the Empire you’ll need some friends. Head to Camelot. You’ll find a tournament there, filled with those with no love of the Emperor. That’s where you’ll find your new Warriors of Light.”

“How do you?” The Black Mage asked, but the man evaporated into sand, flowing in the wind. Was that Cid the Lufaine, like in his dream? Why couldn’t he just help him rescue Daenerys proper, rather than sending him to Camelot? He supposed it didn’t matter now. He couldn’t save Daenerys by himself, not as strong as he was now. The Black Mage decided he’d head to this tournament, and find himself the help to save her, or the strength to get the job done himself.