Welcome to the beginning of Season 2 of The Wizard Killer.
Note that this is posted RAW, meaning it has not been edited nor revised.
Season 2 – Episode 4
The sunlight from the door stops two feet into the room, no rhyme nor reason apparent. I knew better than to ask and knew better than to wait to be told to close the door.
Giving the door a shove to close properly, I turn around, letting my eyes adjust. The creaky wooden floorboards under me whisper as I shift my weight from foot to foot.
I wince and tilt my head to one side as that sound goes through me again.
“We do not have much time,” says the silhouette standing behind an abandoned counter. The head turns, and I’m thrown off. It’s like staring at a star-filled night sky.
Swallowing the yigging, stupid words that want to come out, like it’s true or wow, I pull my gaze away. “You’re the last of the free librarians I take it.”
There’s a scream outside, followed by another.
My hands curl into fists, and I glance over my shoulder at the door. “I’m told you have an answer for me.”
“The answer is yes, a Wizard can be killed through means other than simply time and inherent frailty of the body. There’s an elder acolyte who knows, but the Wizard of Banareal learned of this.”
“Has he been arrested? He’s no help if he’s dead,” I say, frowning and looking down. What am I talking about?
“He’s alive, though barely. The Wizard of Banareal saw it fit to see if an acolyte can be made into a weslek.”
“They’re testing on him? That’s insane? Where is this happening?”
“In the floating city of Banareal itself, in a special laboratory accessible to very few,” says the librarian.
Several gunshots go off on the other side of the door. It’s immediately followed by screeches and a wave of that bone-chattering sound.
“I must go,” says the librarian, pushing open a door at the back, the room filling with sunlight.
Wincing and turning away, I ask, “If he’s there, how can we get him out of there? The wards alone won’t allow him to leave.”
“With those in place, you cannot get him out alive. But that is a different question, and we are out of time.” She exits and the back door closes, leaving me standing in the dark.
The screams outnumber the gunshots, and I can hear that bone-chilling sound come and go.
Without thinking, my hand goes into one of the long coat pockets and pulls out an orb. Holding it up to my mouth, I mutter some words that are alien to me, and it glows.
Taking a deep breath, I then repeat everything the librarian said to me. Just before my body’s about to finish with the orb, I manage to blurt out, “Suspend his life.”
The orb goes dark.
Pain erupts in my head, and I stumble, putting a hand against the wall to steady myself. “Didn’t like that, eh? I don’t yigging care.” How the yig am I talking to?
Grinding my teeth, I reach out for the front door handle and shake my head violently. There’s a buzzing that’s slicing through my thoughts now.
Pulling the door open, I see pieces of bodies everywhere. Looking up at the broken balconies, expecting to see terrified people huddled up there, but there’s nothing. There’s only a pile of bodies at the bottom of them. I didn’t think wind-spiders could do that.
My stomach turns as an idea hits me, they might not be alone. I give the orb a squeeze and toss it into the air.
It falls, like a lump, to the ground.
I shuffle over and scoop it up. “Come on, just go.” Tossing it again, I glare angrily as it lands without dignity on the brown dusty main street.
Picking it up and shaking my head, I notice Rind’s body, one of his arms missing. “It needs a piece of me,” I mutter to my surprise.
Just then I catch sight of a blur in the wind. Looking sideways, I think I see two more. Yig, this isn’t what I needed.
I reach down and snatch Rind’s long-barreled pistol. Spinning the chamber with the back of my other hand, I see its got three shots left in it.
“Somehow I doubt this’ll scare them much.” I glance about, my eyes focusing on the general store. Oddly, it’s the only place where the front door is still closed.
I make a dash for it, the bone clicking sound erupts around me and follows like a vengeful wave.
Peeking over my shoulder, everything’s deformed and distorted, like I’m looking through warped glass.
“Come get me, you yigging freaks.”
Sliding to a stop in front of the general store, I turn and shoot twice blindly. “That should have your attention.”
Holding the orb tightly up to my chest, I wait, my heart pounding. It feels like each thought of mine is fighting through a raging river to get heard, and the river’s growing.
“Come on you kinpaks! Come on!” I yell, trying to focus. This is a dumb plan, but I’ve got nothing else. And oddly, it feels like what’s supposed to happen.
My eyes dart about, waiting for the inevitable.
I scream as something slashes my leg, and blood spurts out. Falling over, I drop the pistol, get some of my blood, and smear it on the orb.
It hums and pulls at the palm of my hand.
Yig, what’s it doing? I feel weak and dizzy, my head’s about to split. It’s like the life’s being sucked right out of me.
As I attacked from the left and right, I feebly throw the orb. It falls towards the ground and then to my surprise, moves along an invisible line towards the middle of the street and then goes up, and then vanishes.
“YIG OFF!” I grab the pistol as I’m flipped over, and shoot at the door until it’s empty. Not a scratch on it. Good.
Something punches right into my chest. I stare at the wisps of white in the air, as my blood streams out. My body starts convulsing, and that raging river in my head’s a waterfall, taking most of my thoughts off to nowhere.
The pistol tumbles out of my hand as it starts going numb, and a grasp about, finding something metal. I stab at the air over my gaping wound.
The broken blade bites into something deep, and I close my eyes as yellow goo sprays everywhere.
“Got one of you kinpaks…” I mutter, a small laugh escaping as my shakes violently. I puke on myself, my hands clutching my head. “Hurts so much…”
Just before blacking out, I feel the cool presence of a shadow over me.
Forcing my eyes open, I’m standing in the middle of the campsite, holding the black, serrated swords. There’s yellow ichor and translucent purple pieces of wind spider all over the place. The tents are even more shredded than before.
“What the? What the happened here?”
I can feel my heart calming down. Tilting my head to the side and closing my eyes, I can’t find the buzzing. It’s gone.
Staring at the swords and then my arms, and then the rest of my body, I see I’m covered in the yellow wind spider blood and pieces of gunk that I don’t even want to think about. The only wounds I can find on myself are light cuts and scratches.
“Wait, I did this? Those things haven’t been dead long, they’re barely translucent.”
Squinting at the campsite battlefield, I pick out about a half-dozen or so see-through purple carcasses of wind spiders.
Something twitches beside me.
I let out a soul-curdling yell and drive both blades through it hard.
Breathing heavy, my eyes wide, I wait.
The wind spider leg doesn’t move.
Taking a step back, I jump forward, ready for it. But nothing happens.
Then a laugh escapes. “Yeah, really scary. A swarm of wind spiders, you do it in your sleep. But a twitchy dead one? That one you go full barbarian on it.”
I scrape some of the muck off my face and dust off my hands. Rolling my shoulders and straightening up, I grimace as my muscles inform me that the battle did have some cost.
Grabbing hold of one of the swords, I wiggle it back and forth until it finally comes out.
Scanning about to make sure no one’s waiting for their moment to strike, I wiggle the other one loose.
A heavy sigh escapes as all my adrenaline leaves, and I feel just how exhausted my body is.
I drag my sorry self over to the two travel trunks. Dropping down, I lean my head against a trunk and close my eyes for a minute.
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