11 The Wizard

07.08.2021

With his face drawn into a light sneer of disgruntled frustration, Zenozarax looked up onto the dome. Standing up on the rim of the northern observation platform he could oversee most of the area surrounding it. The dome itself was staggering in size, reaching far enough into the atmosphere that the top more often than not disappeared within the clouds.

Around him and on the rim below wizards walked and talked, discussing one theory and another and their failures so far. A few robes, a few jumpsuits, and many uniforms.

Military engineers and officers clad in black directly from Mezax and Mezbohan respectively, some scholars and keepers out of Mezdovat draped with their golden trinkets, the bland and practical rest probably sorcerers and enchanters out of Mezhenxen. Experts pulled from all planes and chapters of Mezchinhar’s circles – and yet, even with all that expertise and knowledge, they were all clueless as to how to proceed from here.

 

In the distance he saw Redkevik, standing alone, away from the other wizards, observing the dome in solitude just like Zenozarax did. They had talked earlier, briefly, but what was there to say? Redkevik, who had been here even before Zenozarax had arrived two days ago, had been even more quiet than usual, and both had come to the conclusion that they had nothing to say to each other right now. They could only wait.

For a brief moment he met his Fieldgeneral’s eyes – just that right now Zenozarax wasn’t technically the Grandmaster, and Redkevik wasn’t his Fieldgeneral. Redkevik’s Warrior inside the dome was dead. And they all could only guess what had happened. Then he looked back to that abomination in front of him.

 

The dome seemed in flux. He had been told it had been calm and translucent when the first responders from Marcardsmoor had arrived. By now, however, the chaos of the dome was violently swirling within its bounds, like storm clouds rushing over its surface.

This was concerning. It had become worse with each attempt of them breaching the dome and so any further attempt was temporarily put on hold till the engineers and scholars would agree it wouldn’t blow them all up in the process.

Besides the obvious disconnect to the forces inside they had no idea what it did, how it did it, or what it would do should they poke it some more.

 

Zenozarax frowned slightly as a bright pulse went through the surface of the dome. Was that good? Bad? He didn’t know. Based on the downright enthusiastic mumbling of the wizards closest to him they didn’t either. Their excitement was irritating.

Because the worst was – he knew his Warrior was still alive. In there, somewhere. And he felt like this horrible sense of tension wasn’t fully his own. He knew it was impossible, in theory, but then again, he wasn’t used to being separated this long from his Warrior. Not with him still being alive that was.

 

“Zenozarax.”

He glanced back and his frown did not soften one bit as he saw Yoctotyr approach. “You really should leave.”

“Not yet,” Zenozarax growled, looking back at the dome.

Yes, he shouldn’t be here, he understood that well enough. This close to the dome that may or may not would kill his Warrior, he could be considered in mortal danger. There was the chance that if something went wrong now, both of him, the Warrior and the Wizard, could die here, and then that would be that. He would be truly dead. He saw it in the way Yoctotyr looked at him, probably questioning his sanity and/or will to live.

But he had to come here, risks be damned. He had to see it for himself, to do something. Understand it.

Unfortunately, he was no step closer to it.

 

“The dome is getting more unstable. Lords only know what will happen when it collapses. You’re in danger here,” Yoctotyr repeated only what he already knew. “You shouldn’t even be on this earth right now.” The Grand Wizard said these words not out of concern, but a sense of unavoidable obligation, Zenozarax knew that too, because they never really liked each other all that much. There was no pretence, no–nonsense between them – and he appreciated that.

 

At first, Zenozarax only glanced back at Yoctotyr, then back to the flickering dome.

“That’s me still in there, Yoctotyr.” A brief pause. Yoctotyr may not like him much, but there was a sense of quiet understanding in his face. Zenozarax scoffed. “And to be candid, I can’t pass up the opportunity to witness you of all people nuking me to hell and back if it comes to it,” he said only half–jokingly. The frustration over the situation made it hard to keep his words free from anger.

“I’m not enjoying this, Zenozarax.“

“I know.” And in the end, he couldn’t even really blame him. It wasn’t really his choice.

The Leviathan, under the command of Fleetmaster Nemoneleus, was in orbit right above them waiting for the command to strike. In a turn of ironic fate, it was Zenozarax now who would be reluctant to commit to orbital bombardment. The last time he had spoken with Yoctotyr, the custodian of this earth had urged him to keep collateral damage to a minimum where possible. But now they were running out of options.

They had shot it, and that didn’t work, they had tried to disrupt it with magic, that hadn’t worked either, so now they were back to bombing it – just a lot harder. Wizard problem-solving at its finest. Zenozarax wondered if the dome would stay if the planet itself was gone – but there was still a chance they wouldn’t have to find out.

 

Yoctotyr stayed silent, his hard stare now lay on the dome as well.

For a moment they witnessed the wizards on its rim, dozens of them making readings, observations, trying to figure this thing out. They weren’t unsettled, because none of them present were inside the dome too.

He knew of the actual, very worldly and not magical chaos of the surrounding area. What they did here had not gone unnoticed. How could it? The whole of Funnix and its great castle swallowed by chaos and the consequential concentration of wizards suddenly appeared in the area. The dome itself was visible for miles on the flat land.

Of course, the simple humans living here had noticed and they were scared shitless because those that saw it didn’t even understand what they saw. The magic, the uniforms, the vehicles and temporary buildings erected around the dome now, several millennia out of time – just alien and threatening to them. He wondered if the idea that there was a ship in orbit right above them with enough firepower to potentially vaporise the entire planet would even make sense to them. Probably not. It would probably be rationalised as the wrath of some god.

And none of the wizards really cared about calming their fears of the unknown. Many of the humans had fled their farms and homes when chaos had ravaged the land. And now with this abominable dome looming over them most of the rest had followed, trying to get as far away as possible from what they sensed was impending danger. A smart decision.

A few that had traded their sense of self-preservation for faith had to be escorted away as their manic confused devotion only disrupted the wizards’ focus on the task at hand.

He hoped they would be done here before word reached far enough to summon this or that army to defend their land against this “evil sorcery“.

Once this was over, this event would get obscured into legend, a story of magic and wizards – a story of death and destruction in all likelihood, too. It would be another cautionary tale.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Redkevik move, displaying an uncharacteristic sense of haste.

 

Then, suddenly a faint hum started to fill the air, raising his hackles as he uncrossed his arms.

Yoctotyr had noticed it too.

And both of them saw it. Everyone did.

The dome’s flickering increased as did the strange aura of light it emitted. The swirling of space on its surface became more erratic and suddenly arches of black lighting erupted from it. An alarm blared, the wizards below suddenly hectic as they all received an immediate order to evacuate and one portal after another was opened and disappeared again.

“We should leave,” Yoctoty said calmly, opening a portal of his own.

Zenozarax nodded but was frozen in place as he watched the dome. It seemed like it was growing, expanding, but from all he really could see it stayed the same size – just more – brighter. He was feeling… something. His heart was beating hard in his chest, just pretending, but still reacting. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew his Warrior wasn’t alright. It had gotten worse with every day – and now, at this moment, when the dome before him became as bright as the sun, blinding him, it reached a sensation of absolute dread – and for a split second it was crystal clear, for a split second he almost knew, almost remembered –

“Zenozarax!”

– it was the same moment the dome before him exploded.

A blinding light.

A firm hand on his arm.

Then the portal collapsed and he blinked. Blinked again, looking at Yoctotyr who quickly let go of his arm, stepping back. He realised that they were back in Marcardsmoor. He turned towards Funnix with his eyes wide as he stared into the apocalypse. A horrible ball of violent light and darkness growing against the turning sky.

There was shouting and running around them.

The sky turned dark, the chaos ripped through the sea, land and air, uncontrollably as thunder exploded in the sky.

The earth was trembling below them, the explosion was like a horrifying sunrise in the south, the swirling mass of chaos growing bigger and bigger, coming closer and closer, the earth breaking apart, being swallowed by the sea and storm. The land was dragged into the air, boulders the size of castles, earth and everything it touched uprooted and torn into the pitch black sky.

“We can’t stay here! Everyone, abandon base!” he heard himself shout, his Warrior was dead, he knew that, felt it painfully clear, and so without a second thought he compensated for it, taking his words, his role, as best as he could.

And his word was followed. The wizards around them abandoned Marcardsmoor as the force of chaos rolled towards them.

 

The wind was howling.

The sea raging.

Chaos snapped across the sky.

Zenozarax looked back only briefly one last time. The memory of the last dreadful sensation of his Warrior was still clear in his mind. It felt like a warning and sent a horrible fear down his spine.

 

He had come here desperate to understand what had happened.

Now he was no longer sure that he should.

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