William Anderson
Stories
6
Chapters
2,147
Words
340.2 K
Comments
0
Reading
1 d, 4 h
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The first thing that caught my attention was the sky. It retained the ugly reddish-orange hue characteristic of the Empire, but it seemed loftier and oddly purer. We were enveloped by waist-high grass with no trees, mountains, or buildings in sight. We remained silent for a few moments, Drevolan respectfully allowing me to regain my composure following the disorienting teleport. As I surveyed our surroundings, a question emerged in my mind. Finally, I voiced, "Alright, I'm stumped. How did you manage to…
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* * * * Our Target resided roughly half a mile away. To pass the time during our walk, I asked Thorne to share what he knew about him. "I don't have much intel, Viktor. He's a Cetan, and he's been in debt to Voltaire for a while now." "A Cetan? That's comforting." "Why so?" "Nevermind," I responded. He cast me a fleeting glance but didn't question further. "Is he a big guy?" Thorne shrugged. "Does it matter? Hit him hard enough and he'll fall." "Is that our goal?" I asked, recalling Liora's…
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"Any suggestions on what I should pack?" "An enchanted dagger, boss. Just in case." "I always have one. Anything else?" "That chain thing." "Hmmm. Yeah. Sounds like a good idea." "Sorcerer supplies?" "I'm not sure. That's why I'm asking you." "No, I mean, will you be bringing supplies for spells?" "Oh. I suppose so." So I gathered these items, tossed in some busberries in case I needed sleep, some Tivn leaves in case I needed to stay awake, then reached out to connect with Drevolan. It…
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* * * * It was the kind of day you reminisce later as a turning point in your life. Strangely, I was aware of it at the moment. It was a day when extraordinary things were happening. Each time I swung my left arm, I could feel a dagger's hilt press against my wrist. Each step made my rapier bump against my left thigh. The air was crisp and carried the scent of the ocean. My boots were new enough to look stylish, yet broken in enough to be comfortable. My half-cloak was old and tattered, but it was…
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"Possible?" She paused. "I believe it's plausible." "Excellent. And what exactly do I gain from this?" "We can offer—" "I'd rather not know. Some amounts of money are so high they lose their significance. Anything less than that and it's not worth it for me." They shared a glance. Drevolan said, "We're eager to persuade you. It's highly important to us, and there's no one else capable of achieving this." "This conversation rings a bell," I remarked. "You both planned this from the start,…
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I observed Drevolan with keen interest, he continued to pique my curiosity. He appeared to be making an effort to maintain a neutral expression, suggesting he was quite troubled about something. I let my mind wander, attempting to guess the reason, but I didn't come up with any plausible theories. So, I focused on consuming the meal and beverage before me. The quality of the food was unexpectedly impressive, but what took me by surprise, even more, was when the attendant presented a freshly killed Baku…
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Her gaze landed on the chain that was still in my left hand. "Is that yours?" I responded, "Yes." "Where did you acquire it?" "A Lurivox Wizard gifted it to me." Perhaps she smiled slightly. "How generous of him." After examining it for a bit longer, she queried, "Have you given it a name?" "Huh? No. Should I?" "Perhaps." "Would you like to tell me about it?" "No." "Alright." She collected the staff and exited the room. I coiled the chain around my left wrist and requested Drevolan to…
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I muttered a curse under my breath. Anatole now wielded both a crimson staff and a small rod or wand. The light emanated from the staff, and, as I made my entrance, I noticed him glance at me and then at the staff in my grasp; his eyes widened in surprise. Then he spotted the chain and his eyes widened further, and I could even see him mouthing an oath that I recognized and won't recount. He pointed the rod in my direction. I tumbled backwards as a cascade of blue...something surged towards me. I may have…
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Every person should, at least once in their life, experience a duel between two magicians. I would've appreciated observing this one from a safer distance, however. The space between them seemed to shimmer, causing my vision to blur. Anatole wielded a staff in his right hand, held out in front. The tip radiated a golden glow, making objects behind it appear hazy and distorted. His other hand kept tracing patterns in the air, causing my ears to pop occasionally for reasons I couldn't fathom. I noticed…
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I scrutinized this door for a significant amount of time. No enchantments, no latches, no alerts. Just as a precaution, I lubricated the hinges, then swung it open. I found myself in a slightly more compact room, less messy. The only item of interest appeared to be a glowing orange cube, about six feet on each side, stationed in the room's center. Inside the radiant cube was a five-foot-long white staff. I could just about discern the rusty star at one end, the one I'd been advised to find. However, that…
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