Since when do you run away, Sehn?
she
wondered. Was it wrong that she felt disappointed despite the fact that she thought it unwise for him to be fighting the Archmage in the first place? Or maybe it was because he hadn’t just left behind Issius, but also Shina, Kellar, Orellia, Patrick, the Champion, and…and herself.
“He’s abandoned us,” said the old man to Issius’s right. “Gods in heaven. He has fled!”
“Calm down, Archmage Bennet,” Issius said. “Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding.”
“What is there to misunderstand here? He just flew off and left us here alone!”
Duncan erupted with a cackling, insane bout of laughter. “Let the people of Magia see their great ‘hero’ for what he truly is. I am not surprised at all. In choosing him to be your warrior, you have only reminded me once more of what an incompetent ruler you truly are, Issius.”
Cah’lia tapped Patrick on the shoulder, and after a brief nod, she decided to signal Shina and Kellar. It was time they snuck out of here while Duncan dealt with Issius and the other Archmages, who were now arguing amongst each other. If Sehn had run away, then she had no reason to remain here.
“We still outnumber him,” Issius said, grave disappointment in his voice. “We will not be caught off guard like the last time.”
“But…but we pinned our hopes and lives on him. And he abandoned us. He fled!”
“I cannot believe this either,” Issius said. “But right now, an enemy stands before us. And though it hurts for him to betray us after everything we’ve endured for his sake, we must focus on restoring Magia to its rightful state.”
“Then let us settle this once and for all, Issius!” Duncan shouted. “Let this be the end.”
Cah’lia didn’t want to be anywhere near them when they started going at it. Each one of these people could likely kill her and her friends completely on accident if things became too hectic, which they probably would. With that thought in mind, she tapped Patrick on the back of his shoulder, and whispered, “Now’s our chance. We need to find wherever Sehn ran off to and get him and the others back to Hahl.”
“I agree,” Patrick replied, also in a whisper.
“I’ll sneak around and get the kids. Then we’ll flee into the crowd and leave before—”
Cah’lia’s plans detonated and blew apart as Estelle’s squeaky, melodious voice filled the air. “He’s not running away!” she shouted at everyone. In the midst of so many things happening at once, Cah’lia had forgotten all about the cute little pixie. Estelle flew across the stage and then stopped once she was just before Issius. Of all things, she seemed offended. “Sehnny did
not
run away. Look, he’s right over there.” She pointed over her shoulder and above her.
Emerging from between two of the tallest buildings on the island platform, Sehn reappeared on the back of his gryphon, stopping only after he was once more directly above the stage. The only difference being that, this time, he flew at an even higher altitude than he had during his previous arrival. Like before, he jumped off the back of his gryphon, flipped a few times, and then entered into another nosedive while shouting down at the Archmage.
Are you kidding me? He flew away just to “redo” his stupid falling speech? Sehn, even for you this is…ugh! This is too much.
“ARCHMAGE DUNCAN!” Sehn roared. “Now at last, the dawn of the Dark Lord of Magic has arrived, and the world shall know terror. Tremble in fear before your God, who has come to this world for the sole purpose of—shit! I’m still falling too fast to finish. Curse you, gravity. Very well.” Speaking so fast that Cah’lia could not understand more than a word of it, Sehn continued his “speech” as if absolutely determined to voice every last word.
“NowyouwilllearnthetruththattheGreatSehnshinesforevermoreandthatszzzszvmnvmnz…”
Sehn’s antics earned him more than just a little doubt from Issius and the other mages, and as if finally realizing the extent of his foolishness in leaving the fate of Magia up to Sehn, Issius placed his hand over his heart, and said, “We have made a terrible mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.” This caused the two mages nearest him to turn their heads. There was great fear in the way that Issius spoke; he swallowed, then shook his head. “He’s not ready. I don’t know why I ever thought that he could do this. He’s not ready at all.”
“What made you think someone like Sehn would
ever
be ready?” Patrick asked. The anger that leaked into his voice was not completely unjustified, either. “Have you
met
him? Have you—”
“Patrick, enough,” Cah’lia said, interrupting him. “Now’s not the time. We can’t change what happened, but we can still try our best to fight this monster together.”
With a low growl, Patrick raised his blade, and Cah’lia readied her dagger. “We can’t let him disappear a second time,” Patrick said. “I cannot stand by and watch this happen again. The first time ruined me. This time, if he dies, then so do I!”
“I believe…you may be right,” the Champion whispered, sounding alarmed. That in itself was a clear sign of the terrible miscalculation that Issius and the others had made here, the specifics of which Cah’lia could not begin to imagine. The Champion now also raised his blade. “The moment Sehn drops down, we should…attack with him.”
“Assuming that idiot doesn’t die. Gods, I can’t even look. He’s going to crush his skull!”
While Sehn fell the last bit of distance down to the stage, a horrible image flashed in Cah’lia’s mind. She imagined him landing with such force that his head exploded open like a watermelon and he died then and there of his own doing. The way he was falling, that was exactly what was going to happen. Closer and closer he fell, still going on about such absurd, pointless drivel. Would this be how Sehn died? Stupidly killing himself in the process of boasting about how smart and un-killable he was?
It was in this moment of uncertainty, as Sehn came to within just a few-dozen feet of crashing headfirst into the stage, that things took a dramatic, unexpected, and wholly unforeseeable turn, one that struck Cah’lia with such awe that she became too transfixed to blink, let alone speak.
Sehn closed his mouth, putting a direct end to his “speech” mere seconds before impact. His eyes narrowed, his arrogant grin vanished, and with a deftness that was unlike him, he flipped himself upright, drew his sword, raised it above his head, and mumbled something that caused it to ignite, setting the blade aflame. Then he dropped like a bomb, heading directly for the Archmage, who swore aloud to himself in disbelief before leaping backwards. Sehn struck the stage, and now even less of it remained as another section was blown apart after making contact with his sword.
Both Cah’lia and Patrick raised their arms to protect their face from the spray of wooden chips and other hazards that were blown towards them. For a moment, she lost sight of Sehn amid the screen of dust that sprayed up into the air. But he reappeared less than a second later as he shot forward from within the dusty cloud, dashing straight for Duncan, who did not appear ready for such an assault, nor did he look as though he imagined such a thing was even possible from Sehn. Cah’lia doubted anyone did.
Clumsily, he raised his staff to block—and succeeded, only to be thrown off balance. Before he could steady himself, Sehn unleashed three overhead swings, and though Duncan again blocked all three, each blow caused the Archmage to become sloppier, and on the third, the staff nearly flew out of his hands. Mysteriously, Sehn’s fiery blade did not break upon impact as Patrick and the Champion’s had, which surprised Cah’lia.
Duncan backed away in a hurry, having been put completely on the defensive, but Sehn pursued him with an energy and seriousness that was uncanny for him. One strike after the next, his blade assailed the Archmage, becoming a blur as Sehn pressed him further and further towards the center of the stage. At one point, it seemed as though Duncan had gotten over his initial surprise and was slowly adjusting to Sehn’s rhythm, but that did not turn out to be the case.
Twisting his body, Sehn delivered a horizontal slash that Duncan barely managed to block in time, and in doing so, he was put even more off balance. Then Sehn shifted his grip on his blade so that he held it in just his right hand while he brought around his left, slamming his fist into the side of Duncan’s face—twice. Then he snapped up his back leg and launched his foot directly forward into the Archmage’s chest.
The force of the kick was enough to fling the Archmage onto his back and take him into a roll, one that continued until he reached the center of the stage and fell into the giant gap that Kellar had blown into it. After that, he disappeared from sight.
All of this happened so quickly that Cah’lia had neither the time to appreciate what she was seeing nor the ability to believe it, either. In a matter of minutes—no,
seconds
, Sehn had transitioned from making a complete and utter fool of himself into working over Archmage Duncan so ferociously and with such unrelenting brutality that the old rotting corpse, who had seemed all but invincible, was now falling inside the hole at the center of the stage. The intensity Sehn showed…it was incredible. Just who was this elf?
Was that really Sehn who just did that? Was that really my Sehn?
Even those watching from within the crowd seemed unable to process what they were seeing. Cah’lia looked their way. Many still had their hands raised from previous cheering, some with their mouths still open as well. But few—if any—moved at all. It was as though they were frozen in some sort of stasis.
“Now, where was I,” Sehn said, his voice the only sound to be heard whatsoever now that everyone else had fallen into complete silence.
He reached into his robe—the same type of attire Issius wore, including the lavish pendant around his neck—and pulled out a sheet of paper. Clearing his throat, he began reading something off it. “When the Dark Lord…no, wait, I got to that part already.” He rubbed his upper lip with his pointer finger and mumbled at a volume too low to overhear, then soon after nodded and continued. “Oh, that was it.” In a much louder voice, he said, “And so, as the Great Sehn makes it rain fire for fifty endless days, bringing ruination to the world and scorching it barren, the Gods will weep, for they’ll understand that…” From there he continued on, yammering about how amazing and perfect he was.
He’s not done yet?
Cah’lia thought. She was somehow both embarrassed and supremely proud of him all at the same time.
He still hasn’t finished his speech?
Those watching from behind the barricades finally snapped out of their trance and howled their delight. They chanted his name, declared him their hero, and with a voice that grew louder and louder, they showered him with praise. It was likely they did not even overhear Sehn inform them that there would be a quiz on his greatness once he had “finished toying with the Archmage,” and that anyone who did not answer every question correctly would be forced to do a backflip naked off the edge of the island.
Cah’lia might not have wanted him involved in this fight, but seeing their reaction, and seeing their faith in him, she found herself with a sudden change of heart. Duncan was not dead yet; that much she was sure. And though she could scarcely believe it, Sehn seemed like he might actually be able to take him on this time around. It seemed that the Great Sehn had arrived indeed.
Go get him, Sehn. You show that decaying bag of scum
who’s
boss
!
Anyone who told themselves the same lie over and over would eventually end up believing it was true. This much was inevitable. But Sehn, being as humble and as willing to admit to his mistakes as he was, had far too much integrity not to acknowledge that he, yes,
he
, had allowed himself to fall into this very trap. Did he enjoy owning up to his mistakes? Of course not. But only dishonorable fools continued to believe a lie once they became aware they’d been living it.
Even a God like me can deceive myself from time to time, it appears.
As Sehn completed his heroic speech and stuffed the paper back inside his robe, he took a moment to let the pain of self-awareness spread into his chest. The truth hurt, of course, but he deserved this, and no matter how much agony it brought him, and no matter the humiliation, he was still noble enough to acknowledge his mistake: the lie that he had believed.
Somehow, Sehn had convinced himself that the last time he’d encountered Archmage Duncan, the Archmage had bested him in a fight and had sent him into another world filled with red sand against his will.
The truth, of course, was that Sehn had
not
lost to Duncan. Hah! What kind of nonsense was that? No, that was all part of the lie that he’d convinced himself was true. What
actually
happened was that Sehn, using his special future-predicting magic that was totally real (yes it was!) foresaw that if he allowed the Archmage to send him away to that boring other world, he would be able to rescue the children along with the Archmages and High-Mages. Yet because he was so humble, and so unwilling to take credit for his amazing deeds, he had actually concocted a lie in which he was “involuntarily” sent there instead.
I admit it
, he thought, proud of how much class and strong moral character he demonstrated in being honest with himself.
I believed a lie
.
Taking a deep breath, he held his blade at the ready while he waited for the Archmage to climb out of the gap in the center of the stage. He wondered what was taking so long. He knew this was not over yet, and he knew that, when Duncan emerged, the Archmage would likely be the one to go on the offensive. Yet it had been several minutes now, and he still hadn’t resurfaced.
What’s he doing down there?
Sehn knew that the old fool was crafty, and it was for this reason he refused to walk to the edge of the gap and peer down inside. It was probably what the Archmage wanted him to do. The moment Sehn stuck his head out to look down was the moment he’d lose it.
Despite the momentary lull in things, the massive swarm of people beyond the barricades continued chanting his name again and again—or at least he thought that’s what they were chanting. It was difficult to be sure, because even though just about every single one of them screamed his name at the top of their lungs, only the complete destruction of one’s vocal cords was enough for the Great Sehn’s ears, which automatically filtered out inadequate praise.
How dare they not appreciate my greatness enough to damage themselves in the process? Perhaps this disgusting sky paradise is not worth saving after all.
Of all those cheering him on, the loudest voice among them was from his minion, Estelle, whom he’d sent here ahead of his own arrival. Having been faced with the need to retrieve his gryphon while also taking the time to ensure Nero and Rina stayed put with Bennet’s minion, David, Estelle had flown here before the rest of them in order to keep Sehn’s inferior servants alive while he himself made his way as fast as possible to the city square.
For the most part, Sehn had made good use of the ability to channel his spells through Estelle from a distance, something he had only discovered he could do less than an hour ago when Estelle had told him so. It seemed that, because she was made from part of his soul, there was a certain “link” between the two of them. He could even see what she saw and hear what she heard if both of them concentrated on doing so. All this was well and good, except what troubled Sehn was that these were all abilities she had clearly known about since the moment of her creation but had not told him about until just then, and it pissed him off. And that wasn’t all she’d kept from him, either.
He frowned at her, and she pouted. “W-what’s with that look?” she asked.
“You know.”
“I do?”
“Do not test my patience!”
“What’d I do?” she asked in her high-pitched, squeaky voice. “I was a
good
pixie.”
Not long before Sehn’s arrival, Orellia and his little sister did not seem like they were going to live much longer. And so, on her own and without Sehn’s instruction, Estelle had raced across the crowd and onto the stage, then quickly used some kind of magic to heal Orellia. Then she rushed to Shina’s aid, summoning a barrier and protecting her from something that would’ve killed her for sure.
“How
dare
you know how to use magic that I don’t?”
“I…I didn’t mean to, nope-nope!”
“What else can you do?”
“I can dance! Look, I’ll—”
“Do not dare!” Sehn barked at her. “You have already used your maximum allotted dance tokens per century. If you even hum a melody in my presence within the next hundred years, I shall force you to marry a carrier pigeon.”
“You’re mean.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Cease that behavior at once! I tire of your pathetic attempts to aggravate me. Make yourself useful and find out what Duncan is doing.”
“Okay!”
She flew over to him, buzzing around his face for a moment, before shooting up in the air, climbing higher and higher. She seemed to leave a sparkling trail of what was probably her butt sweat wherever she flew, and it made Sehn sneeze. Curse that damn pixie.
“Kay, I see him,” she announced.
In the back of his mind, Sehn could see what she saw. She now flew high enough that she could see down into the hole in the stage’s floor, at the bottom of which Duncan stood upright, eyes wide with rage, and with his staff raised above him. This likely meant he had a spell prepared and was waiting for a target to appear in order to blast them with magic.
“Sehn,” Patrick said, jogging over to him, along with Cah’lia, who kept giving him strange looks each time she turned her head his way—which she’d been doing frequently, though Sehn was not sure why.
“What do
you
want, Fool’trick?”
“Duncan’s been down there for a few minutes,” Patrick said. “Should we go in there after him?”
Sehn lowered his voice so that only Patrick and Cah’lia would hear him. “No, not at all,” he whispered. “He’s waiting there for me.” He grinned. “Perhaps I shall use this to my advantage and—”
“No, no, you can’t go, Patrick and Cah’lia!” Estelle shouted down to them, her voice loud and easily heard by all on the stage. Sehn snapped his head up at her and raised his finger to his nose, but she continued to blurt things out anyway. “He’s already got his staff pointed and is gonna hurt the first person he sees, yep-yep-mhmm! Oh, and now he knows that we know. Oops! Now he’s jumping in the air really, really high, yep he is.”
“Gods damn it!” Sehn yelled at her. “Why not just join his side and be done with it?
Fuck
!”
She puckered her lips, and her eyes moistened. “I’m…I’m
sorrryyyy
.”
There was no time to worry about Estelle’s wounded feelings. Duncan appeared, rising up and out of the hole in the stage, ascending high into the air before coming back down and landing on his feet at the edge of the gap so that he stood directly across from Sehn. There was murder in his eyes, and from the way he held his staff with a wide grip in both hands, he was anxious for a fight.
“That creature up there is yours, I take it,” he said.
“Hmph. All creatures belong to the Great Sehn. But yes, that is but one of my thousands of servants.”
Sehn turned his head and glared at Cah’lia and Patrick, who had come far too close to him for comfort. While he would love nothing more than to laugh at the sight of the Archmage turning them into living fireworks, he needed them alive so that they could serve his empire in the future.
“You two, stay out of my way.” Sehn looked over his shoulder. “The same for you!” he demanded of Kellar, Orellia, and Shina, who were also making their way towards him. Kellar was the first to obey, and Shina only reluctantly stopped moving towards him after Kellar whispered something into her ear. Issius, Bennet, Uramore, the rest of the High-Mages, and the Champion—his
better
minion—all stayed where they were at various points around the stage, not having to be told.
“You can’t take him on by yourself,” Cah’lia said. “You don’t know how powerful he is.”
“Cah’lia, I will be fine.”
“Sehn, please,” Patrick said. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen.”
“Fuck what you’ve seen, Patrick! The Great Sehn sees only what he chooses.”
“Believe me, we know.”
“And what is
that
supposed to mean? And what are you laughing at up there, Estelle? How dare you experience feelings of joy and amusement at your master’s expense? Oh, how you will suffer for this.”
“
Sorrrry
!”
“This is no time for you to be arrogant,” Patrick said. “We should all be going at him at once.”
“Patrick,” Sehn began, quickly losing his patience, “get out of the way
right now
or I shall slice off your penis and feed it to my bird.”
“Eww!” Estelle said. “That’s
so
gross. And I’m not’a bird. I’m a pixie.”
There were too many idiots in the way, and they were all going to get themselves killed. They thought Sehn was stupid. What nonsense!
They
were stupid for thinking Sehn was stupid. Sehn was the most intelligent being in the universe. And even if he wasn’t—which of course he was—he knew full well how powerful the Archmage was, because he’d seen what he was capable of through Estelle.
In fact, now that he was reminded of the way Duncan had changed the color of the sky from blue to orange, Sehn was overtaken with a sudden but not entirely unexpected fury. How dare the Archmage be such an arrogant show-off? Sehn would need to remember to bring down a memorial of some kind—perhaps one of the buildings themselves—before leaving this place so as not to be outdone.
“Tell me, Issius,” Duncan said, keeping his eyes pinned on Sehn even as he spoke. “Will you honor your agreement? Does your promise still stand? Or do I have to kill everyone here after all?”
“My agreement stands,” the Holy Magus replied confidently. “If you can best Sehn in combat, then we will all submit to your rule.”
“And?” Sehn asked.
“And what?” Issius replied.
Is this moron serious?
Sehn lowered his blade, half turned around, and curled his lips at Issius once he’d set his eyes on the forgetful idiot. “And if
I
win?”
Issius stared at him blankly a moment, then made an o-shape with his lips as if remembering his promise. “Ah, right, of course. Yes, you will officially be granted the rank of Archmage.”
“And?”
“And you will get a statue.”
“
And
?”
Issius sighed. “And the statue will have the words ‘Sehn the bitch conqueror’ inscribed at the base.”
Sehn grinned. “Good, good.” Then he once more faced Duncan, who judging from the glow in his eyes, must genuinely have believed that he was going to defeat the mighty Sehn. Clearly, he was mentally ill. Only someone afflicted with the most serious of illnesses could believe they stood any chance whatsoever of triumphing over him.
“Please, let us help you,” Cah’lia said. She reached out to him and placed a hand on his bicep. Sehn tried his best not to succumb to her touch. Cah’lia was the person he’d wanted to see more than anyone else in the world, and that was what made her so dangerous to him right now.
“I don’t want you to die,” she said.
“Cah’lia, I told you I will be fine.”
“Yes, you will,” Patrick said, to which Cah’lia raised an eyebrow. “I know this sounds strange coming from me,” he explained, “and I know this sounds reckless. But I’ve known Sehn for some time now, and seeing him like this…I finally understand. He is not like others, Cah’lia. He is different. He is special. I’ve come to trust in him. I’ve come to believe he will do what he says he will do, because when the dust clears, all that’s left—all that’s ever been left—is the elf who first taught me how to be a—”
“Enough!” Sehn bellowed, slapping Patrick across his face and putting an end to his mushy speech.
Eyes bulging with anger, Patrick glared at him, and shouted, “What in the Gods was that for?”
“For praising the Great Sehn without paying the praising-tax. Now, get out of my sight while I’m still willing to spare your worthless life. Oh, and never forget, Patrick: when I conquer the world, your sorry ass shall be demoted from prince to potato farmer.” Sehn made a clicking sound with his tongue while crooking a thumb over his shoulder. “Now get out of here, chump.”
Patrick rubbed his cheek, muttered to himself, and then along with Cah’lia, the two finally left him, though Cah’lia was more reluctant and took a bit longer to get going. Thankfully, Duncan seemed willing to wait while they moved off to the side with Issius. Having them so close had made Sehn tense up and nervous. Now, at least, they’d given him some room to fight, though there wasn’t much of it. The stage was mostly destroyed, and the corner they stood on was the only section that was not broken in any significant way.