–—- ??? —---
They had done it.
The brutal battle lasted far less than any before. The party moved in harmony as they danced, the Demonlord bellowing in frustration and rage.
Spellfire rained, and the creature screamed in pain as the spells slammed into him. The first few sequences failed to penetrate the barrier, but as the mages synchronized and the time between attacks shortened, it finally worked.
Grueling minutes passed as they wore down the demon’s defenses and blocked his attacks.
Then the barrier that never stopped finally flickered away, arcs of magic sparking out as it failed.
In that moment, Darcy and Algorax pounced. Her twin daggers peeled into the demon’s right leg, and the berserker grunted as he slammed his heavy axe into the other. The massive axe head bit deep, and the demon stumbled to his knees.
“Go, Jonathan!” Algorax bellowed, as his arms bulged and pressed his axe deeper. “Now!”
The paladin glowed with orange radiance as his crackling skin pulsed with divine power. He charged forward, both hands gripping his broadsword as he rocketed toward the demon.
For a brief moment, Jonathan glanced back. Catherine was still safe, her staff glowing as another spell grew above its tip.
His eyes locked back on the demon as his metal-clad feet slammed, one right after the other, against hard stone.
The demon’s eyes were wide, his snarling face laced with panic as he frantically swiped at the two heroes pinning him down.
But they dodged his attempts, sweat dripping from their strained faces.
Jonathan’s charge accelerated as he closed the distance. The Demonlord shifted his focus to the paladin, and dark orbs snapped into existence above his outstretched claws. The demon immediately wailed as bright red flame, misting spears of ice, and boulders crashed into his hands.
“GO!” Jonathan heard Catherine’s voice as another ball of flame shot forward, slamming into the clawed hands.
Jonathan closed the final few steps, then launched into the air. Shadow Banisher glowed like the sun as he heaved and swept its edge.
“Noooooo!” the demon screamed as the blade ripped through the air. The world moved as if slowed, and each moment dragged into eternity.
The barrier shimmered and reappeared, concentrated on the demon’s neck. But at the last instant, Jonathan felt his face singe as a ball of flame blurred past and slammed into the forming arcane sigils.
His blade cut into flesh in the next moment.
The demon’s eyes, bulging with pain, snapped to the distance. His jaw flexed, and his mouth shifted as he spat.
Then the Demonlord’s head spun away as it was removed.
Jonathan crashed to the ground, stumbling as he released his sword and rolled.
He scrambled to his feet in time to hear the sickening plop as the horned head hit the floor.
The paladin reset, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he frantically looked for his sword.
But there was no need, as he watched the demon’s body thud to the ground.
“We…” Darcy heaved, her eyes wild as they shifted between the head and the body. “We… we got him!” she yelled.
“Yeraghhh!” Algorax roared as he ripped his axe away.
“JONATHAN!” A shrill scream banished their cheers. “Over here! Now!” Marie’s frantic voice filled the hall.
Jonathan spun and lurched forward, his muscles screaming from abuse, the aftereffects of his boosting skill tearing through his system. Yet he crossed the hall in seconds.
He looked down, and his heart plunged into frozen depths.
Catherine’s final spell had won them the day. But the elementalist lay on the ground, noxious green mist wafting off her. Darkened flesh surrounded a wound on her chest, and black and green tendrils crawled under her flesh. With every moment, they expanded and grew, and the woman gagged through wet coughs.
Glowing light pulsed from Marie as she desperately pumped healing magic into the blond elementalist. Yet, the tendrils of toxins grew with every heartbeat.
“I can’t stop it!” Marie sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “It won’t slow! Please, Jonathan, please, cleanse it!”
Jonathan knelt, both hands quickly but gently placed on Catherine.
“[Cleansing Breath],” he muttered. Divinity poured from his core, his hands glowing as golden light dripped from the tips of his fingers. The skin surrounding them began to clear as the divinity consumed the noxious blight.
He held his breath as the skill pushed further across the elementalist’s darkening skin. For a moment, the spread of the necrosis slowed.
But then, with a hiss, the infection fought back. The dark necrotic color charged back into the cleansed areas. Jonathan willed more energy into the skill, but he soon reached the limit of what he could do.
Sweat dripped from Jonathan, and his own skin paled as he emptied his reserves.
“Jonathan, it’s okay.” Catherine groaned, meeting his panicked eyes.
“No, it’s not!” Jonathan pleaded, cursing himself for being too weak.
“Hold on, Catherine. I’m going to find that wizard.” Darcy’s voice echoed from the hall as she rushed from the room. “Keep her alive, Marie, Jonathan!” she called back as she vanished.
Jonathan glanced up toward Marie. The light elementalist swayed as she muttered skill after skill. She looked like she could barely stand.
A cold, sinking realization crept into Jonathan’s heart. His eyes snapped back to the necrosis. Despite both of their efforts, it grew, claiming more of Catherine’s flesh with each passing second.
“Jon,” Catherine whispered, her voice waning.
The paladin met her gaze. Her skin was pale, and her eyes hollow, but she still smiled. “We won, Jon.”
“Yeah.” Jonathan nodded, his eyes welling with tears. “We did. We couldn’t have done it without you.” He choked on emotions as his voice quivered. “Your last spell cleared the way for our victory.”
“I know.” Catherine closed her eyes, her expression content. “And I knew he might retaliate. It took my remaining mana to make it fast enough. He must have sensed that.” She coughed, dark infected blood dribbling from her mouth. “Damned demon. Why’d he have to be so perceptive?”
Jonathan stiffened as he clamped down the boiling ocean inside him. “He was a bastard. Just hold on, Catherine. We will get you to a healing chamber.”
Her blue eyes opened, and a sad smile graced her blood-streaked face. “Oh, Jon. We both know that’s not going to happen.” She glanced toward Marie. “You’re almost out of mana, right?”
The tight-lipped healer, her hands glowing and face pale, gave the slightest nod.
Catherine coughed again, the sound wet. She turned her eyes back to Jonathan.
“This is it,” she said quietly.
Tears streamed from the paladin’s face. He couldn’t stand it. This wasn’t fair. He had planned to put down the sword after this battle. To release his oath. Leave the order. And tell her how he felt.
But now it was too late.
“Take care of yourself, Jonathan.” Catherine smiled. “And take care of the others. Without me, you will need to be the one to calm them.” She grinned, her teeth stained with blood. “Don’t let them level the world we spent so much to save because of a bar fight.”
Despite himself, Jonathan laughed, the feeling bittersweet.
“I… I…” he stuttered.
“Love you,” Catherine finished for him.
“I do,” Jonathan choked out, leaning in.
“Took you long enough.”
They embraced, the moment lasting for an eternity.
Jonathan watched as the light drained from her eyes. Her soft smile held as she kept his gaze until the final moment.
With a final breath, Catherine Calogera, fire elementalist and hero, passed away.
Algorax moved in and caught Marie as she slumped and fell back. Her eyes had rolled back as she expended the last of her mana pool and lost consciousness.
The heroes were silent as they stared. Sadness, anger, regret, they all flooded into the room, filling their very souls.
Each moment stretched as the world seemed to halt.
They had won, but at a cost.
Jonathan held Catherine’s body, his own racked with sobs and emotion. Finally, he leaned his head back and took a deep, halting breath. Two more, and he gripped the grief in his heart and quelled it.
There might still be survivors in the imperial city. They had a job to do. He could mourn later.
He opened his eyes and looked up to Algorax. The berserker sat, cross-legged, his expression stone. Marie lay at his feet, with empty bottles with drops of blue liquid scattered on the floor.
They locked eyes, and the berserker gave a stiff nod. Jonathan returned it, no words to break the solemn silence. He repeated this for Timothy, Wilbur, and Selva, nodding to each.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
He took another deep breath. “We need to search the city. They may be surviv—”
Jonathan froze, his mind catching up to what he had just seen.
His neck creaked as he turned his face to the wizard.
He blinked.
“Yeah…” Wilbur grimaced. “You know, I was going to step in, but y’all were kind of having a moment?” His cheeks flushed as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “But it probably would have been better… well… you know…”
The heroes all stared at the man as he awkwardly stammered on.
“Like, it was, well, you see… it was awkward, okay? I’m great with magic, but not with really emotional aspects. I had always planned to help if I needed to, but y’all needed to really push yourself, you know? You limit yourself if you rely too much on others. But still, I agree I really should have immediately acted after the fight finished. I just… well…”
Silence.
“You know what. I’m going to just shut up,” Wilbur said, raising his hands.
Clap! Clap!
Catherine’s body blurred. Then a gasp followed.
Jonathan’s tears flowed anew as he watched the fire elementalist’s eyes open. The noxious color of her flesh was gone, her body and robes like new.
“SERIOUSLY?!” an incredulous Darcy screamed as she burst back into the room. “Were you here the whole time?!” She yelled as she closed the distance between Wilbur and her. Her breathing was ragged as she heaved in lungfuls of air. Her clothes were soaked with sweat, her skin glistening.
Darcy held out her daggers menacingly, her knuckles white from how tightly she gripped their handles.
Wilbur inhaled sharply. “Yeah. Look. I’m sorry. That was my bad.”
“You’re SORRY?!” Darcy retorted, taking a step closer. She was within lunging distance of the tall, awkward man. “That’s what you have to say? ‘My bad?’”
“Darcy!” Catherine’s voice snapped out. “Stop!”
The rogue froze, now within a step of Wilbur.
“I…” Darcy hissed through clenched teeth. She looked back toward Catherine. Blue eyes stared back, the elementalist’s face covered in a pleading smile.
“Please, it’s alright.”
Darcy scowled, then snapped her attention back to the wizard.
Who had disappeared.
Darcy whirled around, her eyes frantically scanning.
“Honestly, great job everyone!” Wilbur’s voice echoed from the front of the room.
The heroes all turned to see the strange man tipping his hat.
“Looks like my work here is done!” he continued. “Once again, my bad here. That was really awkward, and I totally get why you may be a bit pissed.” He held up his right wrist, and a band shimmered into sight. On that band, a circular reflective disc appeared. Wilbur touched it, and arcane energy surged into it.
“That’s why the next Demonlord cycle is on me.” He tapped the device meaningfully. “Got this thing charged again, so I’ll know the next time he makes an appearance. To make it up to y’all, you won’t even have to worry about it. I swear it.”
“Didn’t you say you weren’t going to help because you wanted its essence?!” Darcy asked accusingly. “Or was that just a lie?” She stalked forward, her eyes locked on him.
Wilbur held up his hands. “No, that was true. You needed to believe you were on your own. It’s like learning to ride a bike, right? You can’t learn if your parent just holds you!”
Wilbur cringed at the expressions the heroes all collectively gave him.
“Ha ha, yeah…” He met Catherine’s eyes. “Great job again, Catherine! Also, congratulations on finally professing your feelings. Y’all are going to make a great couple.”
That remark stopped Darcy cold. The rogue shot Catherine a look, raising an eyebrow.
Catherine just blushed, then turned to look at Jonathan. The two held each other’s gaze for an uncomfortably long moment.
“Anyways! Good luck! Bye!”
The heroes watched as Wilbur the Wizard, one of the strongest magical existences in Vlanoris, fled the room, his feet picking up speed as he disappeared through the open doorway.
A moment later, there was the faint sound of two claps.
The heroes all stared at the door, the only sound in the room the quiet moans as Marie slowly stirred from her mana-deprivation exhaustion.
“You know,” Timothy broke the silence, his face scrunched in a frown, “we are all alive because of him, but still…”
He glanced between his friends. “He’s kind of an asshole.”
There were nods of approval from everyone.
–—- ??? —---
Far away, in a distant land, Wilbur grumbled to himself dejectedly.
“Oh yeah, great idea, Wilbur. Just stand there, invisible, and awkwardly watch as everyone says goodbye to their companion. Genius! How dumb are you?!” He chastised himself.
Wilbur moved down the spacious hall of his home, the white, perfectly polished marble echoing his footsteps.
“And then! You stammer on and give them a flipping lecture?! About bikes?!”
He cringed as his perfect memory replayed the moment in vivid detail.
“Arghhhhhhhhh!”
Wilbur slammed his hands into the pitch-black double doors at the end of the hall. They shot open, practically teleporting from the force, swinging on flawless hinges, then slamming into the wall with a boom.
The boom was followed by the clatter of dishware as the occupant of his sitting room leapt to his feet with a gasp of surprise.
Wilbur’s hand shot out, and he snapped a finger. The cup, liquid, and small plate that it had once rested on froze midair.
Wilbur groaned as, despite his eidetic memory, he had somehow forgotten he still had a guest.
“Great Sage!” His guest’s booming voice greeted him. “You have returned! Is there any way I can be of assistance?!”
“No!” Wilbur snapped as he stomped across the room toward a plush green recliner. With a huff, he fell into it, then groaned.
“Oh no.” The man replied, his voice filled with despair. “Did you not succeed? I swear, the Adventurers Guild will offer any assistance you need. Our wealth, networks, and people are at your service, Great Sage!”
Wilbur moaned. “Oh my god…” His eyes opened, and he met the adventurer’s crestfallen expression. “Rugren, right?”
The man nodded solemnly.
“Don’t worry. The Demonlord is dead.”
Rugren’s eyes widened. “What? Really? Is that true, Great Sage?”
Wilbur groaned. “It’s Wilbur, Rugren.” He glared at the man. “Will-bur. Say it with me now.”
The adventurer shrank under his gaze. “Uh… I couldn’t possibly call you by that, Great S—”
Clap! Clap!
Rugren popped from existence as he was transported across the world.
“I’m so done with today,” Wilbur muttered, his fingers rubbing his temple. “Good luck, Rugren. Be useful. Search for survivors. That should keep you busy.” He grumbled, and his eyes idly searched the room.
The large fire roared merrily behind an incandescent pane on the far wall. Bookshelves lined the chamber, stretching up and out of sight, their shelves packed with thousands of books, tomes, and other reading materials.
The three recliners in the room sat on a plush, thick, dark red carpet and always felt good when Wilbur stepped on it barefoot.
He sighed to himself.
What a day. One filled with awakened, cringey memories that would haunt him for a lifetime.
At least, he would eventually outlive the people who remembered this event. Immortality had its flaws, yet this was one feature Wilbur liked.
Make an ass out of yourself and do the most awkward thing imaginable? Don’t worry. Give it a few hundred years, and time itself will wipe your sins clear.
Except he would remember it, but that was easily taken care of. Just distract his mind until it becomes a detail he never thought of.
He nodded to himself. It was time for several centuries of isolation. He had more than enough materials stored away. It would be no problem.
Wilbur leaned back in his chair. He stretched out his hand, and a mug appeared.
He brought it to his lips and closed his eyes.
With a long inhale, he let the brew’s smells fill his senses. The heat on his face and bitter twang soothed his mind.
He took a sip and smiled.
“Everything is fine, Wilbur,” he told himself. “Thank goodness that’s over with.”
Ding!
The sound bounced through his mind, softer than it had been in the past but still there.
“Oh come on,” he frowned. “I swear, if that adventurer had some artifact to anchor teleportation—”
Wilbur grumbled as he mentally reached for the notification from the system.
“He’s going straight to another realm for a few years. I’m counting it as attempt number two.”
The notification snapped into his vision.
Wilbur squinted.
— New Quest! —
Objective: Teach spellcraft to the magically attuned.
Description: Congratulations! You have assisted and taught the heroes of this era. Because of your guidance, they have vanquished the Demonlord. Their chance of success was grim, yet, because of your intervention, the world of Vlanoris is safe for another cycle. The demons have schemed, and their plans nearly reached fruition, but you put a stop to it.
For now.
The Demonlord will return, and the situation is still dire. The demons will learn from this battle, and the next cycle’s lord will be even stronger. The radiance is doomed if their weakness remains. Spellcraft has been lost.
Wilbur the Wizard, as one of the last radiant beings to practice the arcane, it falls to you.
Teach the radiant. Bring back the arcane. Save the world.
Completion Requirements: Bring spellcraft back to Vlanoris.
70% of all magically attuned radiant beings must be able to use the Arcane.
Additionally, your students must reach these proficiency levels.
Advanced Tier - at least 20%
Expert Tier - at least 10%
Master Tier - at least 3%
Reward: What you desire most.
Accept Quest? Yes - No
—— —— ——
“Pfff-hah!” Wilbur laughed. “Yeah, right!”
He glared at the notification, then up into the unending space above. “As if, you broken piece of cosmic junk!” Wilbur’s laughter bounced off the sitting room’s walls. “Oh yeah, let me just drop everything and run around and do your quest! Wahoo!”
His face twisted in false shock. “My reward? What do I desire most?! Wow! How vague and mysterious. Can’t wait to be delivered a freaking croissant because of your monkey paw ass wording!”
He mentally reached and slammed no. The shimmering screen vanished from view.
“So long, buddy. I do not miss constantly being harassed by you.” He grinned, then waved. “See you in a couple of centuries!”
Ding!
Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Come on, now you’re just being needy…”
He sighed and dismissed the notification without reading.
“We have been over this. You can ding me, I can ignore you. Just knock it off.”
Ding!
Wilbur vanished his mug, then crossed his arms. “Really, now?” He dismissed the notification.
Ding!
“...”
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Wilbur sat in silence, ignoring and dismissing. His head went quiet for several long moments.
He waited. And waited. Andddd… waited.
He let out a sigh of relief, then smiled.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
“KNOCK IT OFF!!!” Wilbur roared. The room crackled with magic as he shot into the air. Arcane energy arced from him and lanced around the room. His eyes glowed teal, and his mind reached out for that unbreakable, tiny connection that bound him to this infernal system.
The elusive strand jumped from his mental grip, refusing to be caught. He had tried this over the years and never been successful.
Then again, he had never had a reason to really try.
A few minutes later, Wilbur heaved in breaths of air. Half of his mana had been drained as he wrestled to grip the flipping connection. Yet he failed.
“OK!” He snapped.
Silence.
“One ding if you agree. Two if you don’t. I know you’re listening. Understand?!”
Ding!
Wilbur waited. Nothing followed.
“Good. Now.” Wilbur clenched his jaw. “I will only read if you agree that if I say no, you will leave me alone. Okay?”
Ding! Ding!
He squinted his eyes, rage boiling in him. He took a breath, then thought over his words. Ah.
“Will you leave me alone for this cycle?” Wilbur asked.
Ding!
The wizard let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, fine. I can work with that.” As his breath left him, he slowly floated to the floor. Wilbur sat back in his recliner. “Good to see you can be reasonable sometimes.”
Wilbur pulled out his coffee mug and spent his time slowly taking in a deep sip. The white mug had large black letters that read “BUT I ALREADY DID SOMETHING TODAY” stamped on the side.
With a sigh, he opened the notification. It was the same quest, and Wilbur’s eyes scanned it.
“You know, just offering the same thing that I said no to isn’t a good strat—”
He paused. His mind zeroed in on the change.
The reward.
Wilbur read it. Then read it again.
“Oh, come ON!” he yelled, exasperated. “Ughhh. Really?!”
Ding!
–—- ??? —---
–—- Authors Note -–—
–—- -- -- -- - -- -- -- -–—
