The Hedge Wizard

As Count Daston floated overhead, Celaine’s eyes went to the demon lord far to the distant right. The creature’s eyes were on them now. Their deception would not last much longer.

With a thought, arrows of shadows appeared in the air around Celaine. It was easy here. Darkness felt strong in this world. She had wondered whether that was the lack of sunlight or a trait of the dungeon; either way it served her well. Readying her bow, she manifested an arrow in her hand, the shadow flickering faintly between her fingers as she placed it onto the string and took aim. Using Relentless Pursuit, she could see the many weaknesses in the armour and bodies of the demons marked out in red. She loosed her arrow, the shadow arrows around her flying with it, each of them finding their mark without fail, felling the beasts on the battlements.

More filled their place quickly. There was no end of targets—no end of prey. Arrow after arrow she loosed upon the walls. She tried to pick out the more powerful enemies—those ordering around the other demons, or ones that demonstrated more strength, but in the chaos of battle that was often difficult to distinguish.

Bud was nearby, hacking back the arms of the living wall as they tried to reach for the breach team. To the left, the wall’s flesh split apart, a gap appearing from which a host of bloodhorrors poured out from within, large swords and spears in hand. They were not the first to sally out, though the desperate assaults had not found success so far. The Blackthorne company moved to intercept them, working together with Marcela and the Sheercliff company. Marcela fought closest to Celaine, her curved sword sending blades of water through the enemy, tearing them apart. Across from her, Dylan and Emilia were in the fray, the druid’s vines grasping at demons and pinning them in place, while Emilia’s rapier sliced through the enemy ranks with ease.

In moments the doorway closed once more. The demons that remained were left stranded and fought ferociously to the bitter end like the cornered beasts they were.

Their assault had done nothing. The concentrated attack of the breach team didn’t falter for a moment, their blessings continuing to bombard the living wall, grinding away at its surface and leaving behind a gaping, bloody wound. The wound was not visible for long, however. Hump and the Chosen of Osidium lined it with stone, slowly building it up to two tall walls of their own that created a tunnel through the breach, cutting off the living wall’s ability to heal the wound. A gap was already made, and through it, Celaine could see the thousands of demons waiting for them on the other side.

Where the living wall tried to heal, Hump and the Chosen would form barriers of stone to block the path of its expanding flesh, where it would heal over instead. The wind of essence was fierce. One of the Chosen of Osidium sung as she worked, her voice an eerie tune upon the battlefield. Celaine knew that the task had to be exhausting. She glanced back at Hump, the wizard’s cloak billowing in the wind, his hair blowing back against his face, and his eyes were bright with bronze. His staff and spellbook were alight with it too as he poured more and more fuel into his magic. Yet the air around him was purple with his manifested soul, the blazing power vaguely taking on the shape of a dragon, radiating an intimidating aura that Celaine could only compare to a wolf dragon. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he was gritting his jaw. She had seen him push himself too far before, and this reminded her of such times, but what choice did they have? Turning back to the wall, Celaine wasn’t even sure it would work. All she could do was kill whatever threats that revealed themselves before they had a chance to strike.

She scanned the battlements as the shrill, frantic cries of a creature filled the air, frantically barking orders. Her eyes soon settled on a creature that she recognised as a devil spawn, similar to the one she and Hump had encountered on the way to Fort Nordric. The small creature was mounted atop a bloodhorror’s shoulders, but the bloodhorror’s own head was missing, replaced by the grotesque, baby-like demon. It pointed at Count Daston as he floated overhead, no doubt ordering for the demons around it to focus their attacks on him.

Celaine aimed and loosed an arrow, piercing the creature in the side of its skull where it became lodged. The bloodhorror mount’s arm went limp, then its body collapsed. Around it, other demons were already aiming for the sky. She’d been too late. She manifested arrows around her just as other Chosen and archers noticed the same thing, doubling their barrage of attacks upon the battlements. But even with the shield over the citadel down, the living wall lashed out with its arms, intercepting the attacks and protecting those on its walls.

The demons attacked. Balls of different coloured fires blazed, soaring upward in trailing smoke; arrows and spears were blurs of steel and wood; bolts of essence, chains of lightning, whips of dark magic—all of it sought the count. At the same time, shouts of alarm came from the right. Celaine looked over to see the demon lord was moving, flying through the sky like an arrow. Shouts went up around her as the Daston regiment prepared to face the deadly foe, Chosen already layering blessings of protection in case it unleashed the same destructive wave as it had previously.

Count Daston did not move from where he was suspended in the sky. The pool of essence surrounding him was still, but for the faint wisps of silver essence floating within. There was something about it that made Celaine hesitate—like an impassable barrier lay between them that her eyes could not see.

The demonic attacks reached him and the wall flared. There were no explosions or shattered arrows. Instead, the lake that surrounded him absorbed the attacks, turning them into wisps of silver mists and ripples like rain upon a pond. Above it all, Count Daston’s body started to glow. With every passing moment it grew brighter, becoming more radiant.

Marcela had stopped nearby to watch her father.

“What is that blessing?” Celaine asked.

“My father’s seventh blessing,” Marcela said. “Lake of Tranquillity.”

With each spell the blessing absorbed, it was as if that power was redirected to the count. Quickly, Celaine lost sight of him, the essence so thick with mist now that she couldn’t see beyond it but for a flare of light like the sun behind the clouds. When the demons finally stopped their barrage, they were staring upward in fear, shielding their eyes with clawed hands. The mist cleared, and the count was now a shining figure, bright with silver. His gaze fell upon the wall.

In a flash, Count Daston descended at a speed Celaine could hardly follow, though follow she did. He landed upon the battlements with an earth-shattering boom. Cracks spread across what remained of the wall that the breach team were targeting. Silver light erupted from them, the cracks beginning to crumble. Mouths across the surface of the wall screeched in agony as flesh turned to mulch and blood. Then the breach team pierced the living wall entirely, their blessings pouring into the citadel.

Finally, the breach was made. Finally, they were through.

“Now!” Lady Fentris said.

The tunnel erupted, stone walls stretching higher than before and connecting in an arc as Hump and the Chosen of Osidium completed their task. A mixture of stone, metal, and crystal formed a sparkling passage. The living form fell upon the tunnel in tides of flesh and blood, but the tunnel held. Blood poured over its sides in a rain, pooling on the ground. Flesh hung in bloody ribbons like strands of mincemeat. On the other side, demons scrambled to form a defensive line, but Celaine saw the fear in them. She saw the urge to flee in their eyes like she had on countless hunts. Bud was right, they were cowardly creatures.

After a brief discussion between Hump and the Chosen, Lady Fentris shouted, “The tunnel is ready.”

“Anara, lead the regiment into the citadel,” Count Daston ordered. “Secure the area around the breach while reinforcements come. I shall face this creature.” He turned to face the quickly approaching demon lord.

The count walked along the battlements, bare arms swinging at his sides, thick as tree trunks, his eyes only for the demon lord.

“You heard our lord,” Anara said. “Daston regiment, form up on me. Sheercliff and Blackthorne companies, defend the tunnel team.”

Soldiers formed tight lines as they marched on the breach, the gap only wide enough for eight soldiers to stand shoulder to shoulder. Blessings shrouded them as they advanced into the enemy attacks. The living wall tried to stop them, striking out with its many arms, but other soldiers were in position to stop it, cutting apart the arms and leaving the bloody limbs on the ground.

To the right, General Korteg and the reinforcements were nearing, but time was limited. She could see just how much essence the tunnel was requiring. The tunnel team were stocked with all sorts of essence elixirs, but if this was to work, General Korteg’s army had to be fast.

Celaine stopped her arrows as she noticed a change in the colour of the living wall, essence pouring along its surface in pulses of red. She glanced back at Hump whose eyes were wide with the same realisation.

***

“Brace the tunnel!” Hump shouted. “Something’s coming.”

Essence poured in through the wall, pulsing brightly to his Spirit Sight. The right side was controlled by Lady Fentris and Elara, while Aric and Hump controlled the left. Using his control over gravity and earth, Gideon reduced the weight on the roof and helped to improve structural support. The essence of the tunnel flared as the Chosen he was working with added more power to its structure, the walls soon shining with the light.

At the same time, the living wall bulged, its flesh exploding into grotesque tumours over the tunnel. Red meat expanded over the top, crushing any demons in the way. They screamed as they died, absorbed into the mass of flesh that weighed down on the tunnel, heavy enough that Hump had to lean against his staff to brace. His mind ached. Cold trickled in from his extremities, but he needed more essence. If the tunnel broke now, Anara and the others in the breach would be swallowed. He’d already seen that happen once—there would be no escape.

The tunnel had to hold.

Bud rushed the left side, Frostfire blazing along his blade as he stabbed at the growths nearest to the ground.

“Destroy the growths,” Owen commanded, stepping ahead of the breach team. “Marian, get us onto the wall.”

“You got it,” she said.

“Oh, not this again,” Theodore said to Lani.

A portal of purple light opened in the ground, and the four Chosen dropped inside, soon reappearing above. They made it to the top of the battlements where they could attack one of the growths directly, but it only slowed the living wall’s progress down a little. It seemed it had abandoned its efforts to heal the wound, now it just wanted to fill it.

“Wizard Humphrey, I can’t stop it!” Aric said, his voice strained. Moment by moment, the Sorcerer was losing ground to the healing wall. “It’s going to break through.”

Hump glanced at Lady Fentris and the others. They were busy with their own blessings, using their powers to their limits already. They were in no position to help them and focusing on Aric’s part of the tunnel would only confuse matters.

“I have something that might work,” Hump said. “Just hold for as long as you can.”

He had only ever tried the technique in training, but it was this moment he had been working toward. A simple Transform Earth wasn’t what Hump needed right now. He needed something better. Something stronger. He envisioned his soul, its manifested form blazing around him, radiating his strength. What he needed now was to be one with the earth and his spell—for his soul and his magic to combine.

Hump gazed into the storm of essence tearing through the tunnel, the concentrated power of earth, shifting like a sandstorm. He envisioned the Rivers and Waves within him, the aura of his manifested soul around him, and then he tried to make the storm a part of that too. His mind emptied of thought as he focused only on the essence. His manifested soul began to change, the colour shifting from purple to bronze, taking on the deep tone of the earth. Around him, the ground cracked with the same glow, wisps of essence rising from the shifting earth like ethereal smoke.

The weight of the Earthheart Opal was even heavier now, but it made everything so much simpler. He could comprehend all the earth around him in a way that he couldn’t achieve without aid. Sense each individual grain and its intent, and how they interacted together. The ground beneath him responded, rising, compacting, and then solidifying. His will infused the earth with unyielding strength, and the healing wall was soon covered once more.

“I’m ready,” Hump said, his voice deep as a bellow from the earth.

Aric looked at him, his eyes reflecting the light of Hump’s power. They widened, seeing something in Hump, but Hump had no time to consider what it was. His focus went back to the tunnel and the breach. Anara was through now, fighting in the citadel, but more soldiers were inside. It had to stay open.

In his mind’s eye, he saw the simple formation of Transform Earth, consisting of two runes connected by a single channel. He felt a resonance with the spell—with the earth itself. As with when he had first wielded the winds of essence, time seemed to slip away from him. The weight of the living wall was too much for the tunnel, so he simply had to make it stronger. With a focused breath, he drew upon the surrounding material and increased the density of the earth. At the same time, he added runes to the formation in his mind, making the stone harder, stronger, more durable. With each rune he added, the drain on his essence became greater, and all the while the living wall shifted, trying to worm its way through his defences.

The bulging tumours expanded more, trying to seep in through the entrances on either side of the tunnel. Hump envisioned a rune to make Transform Earth more malleable, surrounding the formation with another layer as he tried to curve the wall upward to catch the expanding flesh, but the hardness of the spell interfered. He severed those runes, cutting them away and briefly weakening the wall. With that, he shaped it into position, extending the tunnel to catch the expanding flesh, before adding the runes once more, hardening it again.

Hump’s focus was absolute. He could feel the pulse of the earth, a rhythmic beat that synced with his heart. His soul and the spell’s essence were in perfect harmony, moving as one. The wall before him was no longer just a barrier, it was an extension of himself, responding to every thought and command.

The cracks in their tunnel started to heal. The breach stabilised. He could sense the intent of the earth, ageless and unceasing, and he matched it with his own. The wall grew stronger, more resilient, as he continued to shape Transform Earth into a tunnel to his will.

The wall still fought back, slamming into the tunnel with its many hands. Chewing chunks of stone out with its teeth. Essence pulsed through the wall, but it was slowing down now, its healing power diminishing at the ferocity of the assault. As the pressure mounted, Hump remained calm, his mind clear. The tunnel held firm, moulded with precision, the bronze glow of his essence shimmering along his side of the wall.

Hump gasped as cold lanced through him. The spell was no longer Transform Earth, it was something else. Something more. The simple rune formation Hump had envisioned in his head had changed and was now giant—too giant. It drew as much essence as a poorly constructed Tier 5 spell, draining Hump far too quickly. Cold seeped into his extremities, worming its way deeper into the rest of his body.

It was too much. He could resist the wall for now, but it was just a matter of time before it broke through. The essence drain was simply too much.

Hump forced himself to remain focused. He could still fix this. If he could add runes to the formation, he could take them away. In a flash of insight, Hump realised he could do more than move around the essence he started with. He could change it, mold it to his vision, add what he needed, and take away the parts he did not. It was adaptable. He was an artist, and the essence was his paint.

He withdrew his essence from the exterior runes, pulling back what power he could, chipping off the bits he didn’t need. The tunnel was sturdy enough, and he didn’t need to increase its size any further. Bit by bit, he removed those unnecessary elements, but with every broken channel and disrupted rune, he felt the spell destabilise. The essence drain had slowed slightly, but it was not enough. If he kept going, the entire thing could collapse, and with the army in the breach that would be disastrous.

Either he let the spell consume every bit of essence he had left, or he let it falter.

“I can’t hold this for long,” Hump said, his voice strained. “Are you ready to step back in, Aric?”

The Sorcerer shifted his gaze from Hump’s magic, briefly dazed before he startled into action, “Oh right. Yes of course.” Quickly, the man added his blessings back into the mix.

A sense of relief came over Hump as the wall finally felt stable, and then his spell finally gave in. He lacked the essence to maintain it. Its power faded, and in moments his grip over the tunnel was lost entirely. A second wave of cold descended on him and pain flared in his head, but he could not stop here. Taking an essence elixir from his pouch, he downed it and prepared his next spell.