4: Of Corruption

Moya sat back on her heels as the potion’s refreshing energy washed over her. She could not look away from Ahndras, who was now recovering his energy, leaning against mossy stone. Ahn, the aethermage who she would spend days, weeks of her life guarding, although she had prayed to the Source never again to suffer this fate.

What had happened to him to bring on such exhaustion? To make his eyes so haunted? How could the corruption already be so bad?

He is different. Nothing like that horrible woman. Miir promised me he would be different.

The last aether leymage Moya had served had nearly destroyed not just a leytemple, but the villages and hamlets within miles of it. The corruption that monster coaxed to life was horrific, dangerous beyond anything Moya had ever faced in her duties as a leytemple guardian.

Reminds me of the Kraah, she thought, shuddering in remembered fear. She needed to put that out of her mind.

She stole another look at him, assessing. He seemed mild, and surprisingly good-humored. He was more pleasant-looking than she’d expected—tall and lithe, his gold hair tied away from his eyes in a half tail, and his hazel eyes both warm and clever when he’d been awake. Nothing like that awful woman with her bleached-bone skin and dead eyes…

Like many mages who specialized in cleansing leylines, Ahn’s feet were bare save light footpads that prevented cuts. Feet to earth, eyes to sky, the old saying went—and there was some truth in it. Dipping into powerful and sometimes corrupt leymagic at its most raw required careful grounding and finding one’s center.

And for someone using aether to perform cleansing magic, staying tethered to reality would be even more important. Aether, an element not bound to earth or sky, but hovering somewhere in between, beyond, far too often led to dark intentions and dangerous places in a mage’s soul. Something about touching the very essence of shadow, of calling to the energies of things not living, but not entirely dead.

Every instinct Moya possessed told her this man needed her help, needed protection from more than just corrupt magic. Maybe if she gave it time, the assignment would not be too terrible.

The world shook with a rumble of thunder. Ahn jolted upright, an incantation already on his tongue, ghostly blue aethermagic gathering at his fingertips.

Moya reached out and pressed her hand lightly to his shoulder. “Hey, it was just thunder. No need to blast anything, please.”

Ahn stared at her, eyes unfocused, then shook his head. “Was I sleeping? Sweet Source, I’m out of sorts today. This corruption is not like anything I’ve experienced, and I’ve seen some awful tangles in my time. Nothing is pushing it back.”

“Which begs the question, should we stay here for a bit and shelter if it gets bad, or push forward in the storm? It seems like you needed some leymagic restoration.” She looked at him, waiting for a reply. She was already slipping into the role of temple guardian.

“We’ll go now,” Ahn said with authority and assurance that surprised and relieved Moya. She studied him, pleased that his eyes were keen, his movements sure. The restorative was clearly top-shelf.

“I don’t like that your mount was frightened away by the energy of this place, and these storms don’t feel entirely natural. I’ve enchanted my bags to be waterproof if it rains and besides,” he spoke lightly, “I meant what I said before. Water might just help you right now.”

Moya could not help the bark of laughter that escaped her.

“Well then, mage, a rainy walk we shall have. The question is, can you make yourselfwaterproof too?” Moya asked.

“I don’t mind getting rained on.” Ahn peered briefly at her, a strange expression playing over his features. “I rarely tire so easily, you know,” he said, then looked away, troubled.

“What do you mean?”

“There is just something about this corruption. I’m good at what I do, but my magic comes at a price.”

“I have seen that price,” Moya said, voice husky with repressed emotion. She would not let herself get angry again. “And I have seen the toll that working with aether can take on a person.”

“As have I. One I served in the past… Her aethermagic transformed her into something terrible, and she tried to take me with her. I promise you I’ll never fall prey to such darkness. The Source guides me. I’m just up against something far more powerful than I’m used to. That’s why I need you for this. Why Archmage Miir sent you is simple. This corruption needs aether to clear it away, and I’m grateful I’ll have your help.”

When he looked at her again, there was such an expression of raw pain in his eyes that her breath caught.

“Working together, we’ll keep Ahra safe,” Moya managed, busying herself with hitching her pack into place. She handed Ahn his weapon—an elegant but simple staff of polished wood and silver filigree studded with tiny clear crystals, steeling herself for the journey ahead.

“It’s why we’re here,” he said, then froze.

Intensity radiated from Ahn’s expression, his eyes wide, lips thinned. His aethermagic flared, a ghostly-blue corona around his fingertips followed by an answering radiance in the weapon he carried. Moya shivered.

“Get behind me,” he said. “Now.”

Moya snapped her gaze back to Ahn, who slid off his pack and stood, staff in attack position before him, haunting-blue leymagic dripping to his feet to take the form of a sigil-circle.

“What’s wrong?” Moya asked, all too familiar with the taut silence that came before an ambush.

“There is a shadow. A dark presence nearby.”

“What do you need from me?”

“Do you have anything mage-treated?” Ahn asked, voice low.

“Arrows and my sword.” Moya said.

“Arrows. You need to keep your distance,” Ahn said, still staring ahead. Moya sheathed her sword, exchanging it for her bow.

“What’s wrong with the clearing?” Moya pointed, horrified. The marker stone and soil around it glowed a dull and sickly green. An all too familiar green…

“I don’t understand this. How has the temple’s corruption spread so far, so soon? We just found signs of it.” Ahn shook his head. He turned to Moya, frowning. “I think it’s even affecting the weather.”

“Yes. I’ve seen a lot of corruption in my time, but this is different. Is this like Kraah magic?” Moya asked. She had never had to battle the creatures that a deeply poisoned leytemple could spawn. She had hoped she would never have to.

“I don’t know enough to make that judgment. Just be ready to act on my command.”

Moya stood taller at the note of confidence in Ahn’s voice, almost forgetting to be upset because his magic was the same kind that had driven her from active temple guardianship. A new sound, like dry twigs and leaves in a strong wind, rushed through the clearing. An acrid smell filled the air—old blood, rot and sulfur.

“No. Oh, no.” Ahn’s eyes widened before a mask of concentration slipped over his fear. “I’ve read about Dregs, but… Damn. I’m not ready for this.”

“Dregs?” Moya asked, words tight with panic.

“Corruption-born creatures. I know how to fight them in theory. Stay within range of my shield. Nothing but mage-treated weapons will work when attacking them. Now⁠⁠!”

Ahn flew into action, blond locks whirling around his face in the rush of air and energy his magic created. His eyes were twin points of glowing aether-blue, the same magic surging from the arcane signs beneath his mostly bare feet. Blue, from where he was tapping directly into pure aether leymagic.

Moya didn’t have time for anger or fear. Something wriggling and wormy but bristling with an insect’s skittering legs and big as a prize sow was darting towards them. The sickly stench grew so strong that Moya’s stomach lurched, and she coughed with nausea.

Focus, Moya. You can’t lose your calm.

She relaxed her shoulders, aimed, exhaled, and loosed an arrow at the thing. A whistle of air in fletching-feathers sang above her, followed by a wet thwack as the arrowhead hit home. The monster writhed, then lurched back upright and gained on them faster than before.

Ahn stood tall next to Moya and chanted. Spell-words lilted, songlike, from his tongue, almost pleasing in his warm deep voice. As he formed the syllables, the power at his fingertips and in his weapon intensified until he was too bright to look at.

“Close to me,” he ordered, his voice booming with the power of his magic. Moya moved so that they were shoulder to shoulder.

He slammed his staff to the ground and released a bolt of power at the Dreg. Blue radiance shocked from the point where Ahn’s weapon had struck the dirt. Aether bled through the clearing, shimmering over the sickly mile marker and striking the Dreg like lightning.

Moya tore her gaze away from the flickering blue aether to fire another arrow, and another. Ahn’s magic pelted the creature’s body in concert with Moya’s onslaught. The Dreg shrieked, an unnatural wail that ricocheted around Moya’s skull and rattled her teeth. At the same moment the creature cried out, Moya heard something from behind them.

“Behind you!” She shouted, aiming an arrow faster than thought. It flew true, stopping the new intruder in its tracks. This one was smaller, a darker gray. It halted, then, to Moya’s horror, lifted from the ground, black insect wings bursting from its back. “Ahndras!”

Ahn spun on his heel, assessing the situation calmly. He made no move, silent for what felt like a lifetime while both creatures moved to flank them. Moya fired up toward the flying one, but only grazed its side.

She was shaking. Terror was overtaking her and affecting her aim.

It’s too much like that other time. The Kraah—the nightmare Niamh saved us all from that awful day. I can’t do this again, she thought, panic rising.

Cold sweat and sickness in her gut took Moya out of her focus. Fear thudded with each beat of her heart, slogging like poison in her veins. Before she could draw another arrow from her quiver or fumble at her side for her sword, something happened to Ahn.

He rose into the air, hovering a foot from the ground. A cushion of aether leymagic shimmered beneath his feet, his robes whipping around him.

“You will fade, you will cease, you will know the forever-void. You will fade, you will cease, you will know the forever-void. YOU WILL END.” He chanted the words in a soft voice, but leymagic flowed from him in blinding waves. Light blasted into the clearing, explosive without sound—like the blaze of a falling star and lightning-storm rolled into one.

The creatures shattered.

Moya staggered backward, eyes watering from the intensity of Ahn’s magic, as the Dregs splintered into a thousand shards of green, black, and gray before fading to nothing but fine ash. The clearing was silent. Ahn stood on solid ground. His lapis-and-shadows aether was gone, hair wild and windblown, and the evil green magic vanished. He smiled, his face smudged with ash.

“What luck. No more monsters, and it never even rained,” he said, a strange smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Maybe our day is taking a turn for the better.”

Who was this man? Moya had never in all her years of guardianship seen anything like this. One moment he was aloft and glowing like a warrior from a fairy tale, and the next he was making comments about the weather.

No, he definitely wasn’t like the other aethermages Moya had known. He wasn’t like anyone she’d known.

“That’s… That’s it? Just like that, it’s back to the weather?” Moya surprised herself with a gale of laughter, Ahn’s warm low chuckle dancing with her voice through the suddenly bright clearing.