Yipion - part 6

“It wasn’t a dream,” Yipion realized, waking up from the trance. A long gooey thread of saliva ran down from his lips into the floor.

Indeed it had been no dream, all those feelings. He found deep within his soul the thoughts and spirits of the voice. A voice he now knew was not what he had previously imagined, but more. Much more.

An image, a face came flashing to his mind. A man he had never before seen. Yet he knew him. He knew him like a brother. And then his face became a body, a soldier’s body. Yipion felt himself being dragged around, yet he was still. He felt like his body was coming apart, like his very spirit was being pulled and stretched about. It was as if he was being moved, but he didn’t see any movement.

With a thump he fell on his knees in pain and confusion. A presence came about him, touched him. He saw nobody. His whole body shook, and he suddenly became aware of the Flux around him: all the tiny little rocks in the crevice, all the shy leaves who dared to live in darkness, they all had a second life in the Flux. Yipion had never seen it. Not like that. And suddenly he saw the man again, his whited-out image flashed into his mind and as if moving towards each other the image crashed into him, and the two men fell on their backs.

He was there, the man. Not a whited-out image, but in the flesh. There was Hamut, his long lost enemy.

The soldier was no more than a man at first glance, with his spear and shield, and lightly plated armour. But Yipion could see his aura, and what a fiery and majestic aura it was. A pulse, emanating from his body like a thousand lighting storms. How would he ever hope to conquer such a powerful enemy alone?

“So it is you,” Hamut calmly said. “It is you who bested my behemoths. How?” he asked in a soft tone.

“I am not what I am,” Yipion salivated heavily now. “And nor am I what I once was or what I could have been,” this last word made the prince’s body shake as he clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in anger. A raging energy came about Yipion, and a shock, almost a disbelief struck Hamut’s face.

“You, what are you?” Hamut readied the attack. “I know that aura, and it is not yours. Where is your spirit?” he jiggled his spear in a precise manner, and the metal itself seemed to melt, waving around as if attached by a string to the pole. “Show yourself, OH BROTHER!”

From his pocket Yipion produced a small blue stone. A symbol engraved in it, Hamut knew, was the seal of the occultist temple in Aintra. A blue light came pouring out of the stone to fill the crevice like smoke as Yipion burst out in daft laughter.

“Cheap tricks, hey, oh brother? I am but a simple hunter, though take me by no fool. Did you have nothing better to do with your life than curse me?”

Thunder sounded around them and Yipion was at Hamut’s throat in an instant. With a flick of his wrist, the enemy’s blood poured violently on him. As Yipion released the slit throat, Hamut’s body turned into five snakes which jumped up on the prince, constricting him into paralysis.

“Once again, brother, you take me for a fool,” Hamut fell from above, and if not for a quick teleport spell, Yipion’s head would have been smashed like a melon.

Without even realizing what had happened, Yipion saw once again Hamut’s spearhead at his face. He had but a split second to react, and with the snakes still wrapped up around him, all he could do was duck. With fire he burned the snakes and then made himself invisible.

“You know, brother, I may not control the Flux, but if only your heart beats, I will find you,” and as Yipion quickly held his breath, Hamut struck with his shield and hit the prince, breaking his guard. A kick in the jaw brought him down, and he barely rolled to avoid a downward thrust of Hamut’s spear.

The blue stone struck out with lightning bolts, and the rock from the ground rose up. A symbol formed in the air amidst the blue smoke. From it slowly emerged an arm, slim and long. Then another, then a chest, and legs, then a whole body. It was a strange creature, almost humanoid, but with horns and spikes. His features were serene, friendly almost.

“Really, brother? Is your hatred so deep that you felt the pressing need to summon him?”

Yipion - part 5

Confused about the meaning of the statement, the prince materialized his warm energy into a fiery whip, and wiggled it about. The two spirits struck out with fire breath, but the figure seemed unaffected by the flames, and while drawing a sharp thin blade it dashed towards the first, and then towards the second. They both collapsed, punctured by the wizard in a precise spot and manner.

“You, you can’t kill them!” the voice rang out in the cavern.

“I killed them just as easily as I will kill you.”

Yipion slashed with his own flames, only to see his target dodging and throwing something his way. He managed to evade, but in an instant his enemy was upon him, striking him down to the ground. Its hood fell off, revealing a beautiful young woman of orange eyes and thin lips. Yipion had never been fond of women, but this one was particularly charming. He pushed her and struck again with his whip, but the woman caught it in her hand, and it froze. The prince could barely notice the frost, spreading through the whip into his hand. When he did, it was too late. Stuck to the whip, his right arm was an easy target. All he could do was draw his sword with the left hand and hope to melt the ice before the sorceress could kill him.

He didn’t. The woman was too fast and gripped his left arm with an invisible hand. Dashing, she slashed his right arm at the elbow and knocked him out with a blow to the temple.

On the floor, bleeding fast from the arm, Yipion was finished. A foolish boy defeated by greed. And by innocence. Of all things his father feared, innocence was the worst. His only wish was for his son to be a good man, to survive out there in the world. Innocence made him weak, deceivable, almost childish.

But if innocence would have gotten him killed, there was one thing that kept him alive, and as the woman was delivering the fatal blow to the throat, her arm broke, and she was pushed away, dropping the knife.

“Die already!” the voice sounded.

The woman’s arms were pulled to either side, and as she struggled to keep them attached to her body, her knife rose up in the air and struck her right in the stomach.

A gulp of blood spouted out of her mouth as she nearly choked. Losing strength, her arms first broke at the elbow, and then at the shoulder. The skin and flesh was ripped out, leaving an armless body on the floor, bloodied and torn apart.

For the next minutes the voice conjured a powerful spell to heal Yipion’s arm, but it too was running weary. The energy required to break the magic defences of the sorceress was immense, more than it had ever used.

Eventually the prince’s arm was healed, and the bleeding stopped.

And fortunately, nobody knew they were there.

When Yipion woke up, he felt fully healed. The first thing he saw was the woman’s corpse. Rotten, full of flies and maggots. The smell was noxious, and so Yipion burned the body.

With renewed strength, he felt ready to pursue his one and only enemy.

“Do not go,” the voice said. “That’s what he wants. His army awaits, it will only tire you out so he can deliver the final blow.”

“What do you propose? Retreat?”

“No…I have a special spell I’ve been meaning to use. But I need your help. We must meditate and join our energies.”

Yipion agreed, as whatever it was the mysterious voice had planned, it would indeed be better than facing the whole army alone.

And so he sat and entered a profound slumber, a state of self-awareness, in touch with the earth and the Flux. He sensed and absorbed all energy around him, and then some more, and then more. He would become a greater spirit, something different. He would be Yipion, the prince, no more.

Yipion - part 4

Almost a week had passed and the armies of the Mountain Kingdoms – Inur’l and Orago – were now up the Black Mountain, seizing their victory. At the front was Yipion and his mighty behemoth. He didn’t care for the men of the Kingdoms, though they were his vassals. His eyes had long since been set upon the fortresses at the peak. There he knew he would find his true enemy.

On the morning of the seventh day Yipion woke up to the sound of the voice:

“Your father comes. Be…nice,” it laughed quietly at its own words.

On the hill Yipion saw a forward party from the Kingdoms’ army. There was nothing peculiar about it, and he wondered if the voice was trying to trick him.

When the horsemen arrived, one of them stepped off his horse and removed his helmet. Dressed as a common soldier, Yipion’s father, the King would at long last come to meet his son.

“Son…” the King mumbled, tears in his eyes.

“Father, you may be gone,” the prince said coldly.

Shock spread over his father’s face, speechless, motionless.

“I don’t know if I shall feel sad, sorry or have you killed…”

“Just be gone,” Yipion faced away from the party and leaped onto the behemoth’s back.

The King burst in tears, angry tears, frustrated tears. His face turned red, and he clenched his fists. Back on his horse, he rode down the hill and ordered an immediate withdrawal.

“We shall take the mountain back…once he comes crawling back for help,” he told one of his generals.

The voice heard everything. It always did. And it told Yipion, who didn’t care at all about the men of the Kingdoms. And so up the mountain he went, flying atop his mighty beast.

Suddenly, the air froze, his mouth spitting puffs of vapour. He instantly readied his sword, and imbued his skin with a warm energy. But the air was ever colder, and colder, until he had the beast land, but on the ground it was cold still. So cold the behemoth started shivering, spasms running through its body. Yipion conserved his energy, deeming the creature a dead weight.

And so it died. Frozen to death.

“Death by frost,” Yipion whispered in a strange tone, still not used to speaking.

Death by frost, Yipion knew, was a special kind of spell. A skill only known to great masters of the Arts. It made a spirit lose all its heat through manipulation of the Flux. And then he knew he was in danger. His mystical energy couldn’t stop the spell, but only compensate for the lost heat. As he walked slowly, he realized his doom. The spell was getting stronger and stronger, and even though he was almost unmatched in controlling magic spells, he couldn’t stop it.

Eventually it would come to a battle of endurance. A battle between two great magicians, for who had the most energy to keep their spell running.

And Yipion would lose, for his opponent, more than a spell, had an army.

So he acted fast. He conjured two spirits of power and fire to aid him. The only way to stop the incantation was to find the caster. And he couldn’t be too far.

Yipion felt a sudden burst of energy as the spirits carried him over cliffs and openings in the mountain side. They rushed up the hills, and as they were about to jump over a deep crevice, the voice yelled in Yipions mind:

“There!” it referred to the huge crack in the rock, peering over a deadly fall.

The spirits stopped, and a ball of light filled the huge hole. Inside, a robed figure sat. As the spirits dropped down, it stood up and looked directly at Yipion’s eyes.

“Found you!” Yipion declared.

“No, prince. I found you.”