Wizard of the Wood

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20

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Essie’s body felt completely filled with the weight of a continent of sand. Her heart skipped two or three beats, she wasn’t quite sure, and all nerves in her body simultaneously screamed to run while also losing all feeling entirely.

There was something naturally unnerving about someone knowing you, calling you by a name with a look of recognition in their eyes, and you having absolutely no recollection of that person while your instincts scream to flee.

As much as she wanted to leave, Essie could not – would not – abandon Rylir on his on in a town that would undoubtedly try to eat him alive.

So…

She held firm. She kept her body taut like a drawn bowstring and held her ground against this unknown person who sent an unnerving instinct to flee ripping through her.

Cotton mouthed, she elected to address the stranger. Despite her unease, it was still rude and discourteous to be addressed twice without response.

“Apologies, but you must be mistaken. I do not believe you and I are acquainted,” said Essie curtly. “And it is considered discourtesy to not introduce oneself after addressing the other.”

Essie’s words were immediately met with a sinister, cackling laughter that made Essie sick to her stomach, bile and acid accumulating quickly in the back of her throat.

It was familiar.

She was familiar.

Why?

Essie shuddered as flashes of that wicked grin appeared above her in a darkened room accompanied by a searing pain in her arms and in her gut. There was a glint of a bloodied knife wielded by strong but nimble fingers.

That voice – her voice – rang through the visions before her eyes.

*“It’ll only hurt for a moment. Don’t struggle, or else we will have to start again.”*

Essie forced a breath into her body as the vision passed. The strange woman smiled.

“Oh, Ezra, you haven’t changed at all. Direct. To the point. Unattached. That’s what made you so good,” said the woman as she advanced two steps. “But what’s this? You don’t recognize me? You don’t remember me? And after all of our quality time training together.”

Essie was quickly losing control of her breathing which was becoming erratic at best. Though her memory couldn’t place exactly where this strange woman was from, her body seemed to know what her conscious mind could not comprehend. Another agonizing flash sent her mind reeling. Images. Desires. Hopes. The dreams… which was a revelation on its own. Every drop of pain that she endured bubbled to the forefront of her mind.

All of it slashed out at her from behind that protective veil somewhere deep in her mind.

It wasn’t everything that decided to make itself known to her all at once, but it was just enough for Essie to see that woman’s face marred by an arc of crimson lightening shooting from someone’s fingertips – her fingertips.

“I… I gave you…”

“What? This?” asked the woman as she gestured to the scar on her face. “Indeed, you did. Quite the spectacle you made of yourself that day, Ezra. Don’t worry. I am sure we can think of a way to repay the favor.” She advanced two more steps, and Essie retreated two steps instinctually.

“I do not find those terms agreeable,” stated Essie, noting a slight tremor to her voice. “And I do not appreciate you making references I do not understand.”

“My my,” muttered the woman. “How interesting. You seem to have managed to suppress all of your memories. This is the first time I have seen this in a Conduit. I wonder if you are able to tap into your Potential. You, at the very least, remember how to use your arcane abilities, don’t you?”

Essie refused to answer, not that she would have been physically capable of responding at this point in time. Every ounce of willpower was currently dedicated to maintaining her composure, and even that was failing quickly.

What were these things she was talking about?

Training?

Conduit?

Potential?

While the flashes in her mind hinted at what this strange woman was talking about, Essie still had a moment of doubt. Was this some kind of trick? Some kind of magic being used on her to plant memories and thoughts?

Sadly… she didn’t even believe her own explanation. There was something too real – to familiar – about the images flashing before her eyes.

“Come now,” coaxed the woman. “If you don’t remember your precious mentor Daemia, then surely you remember this.”

As fast and as loud as the crack of a whip, the woman raised her hand and a massive ball of fire came barreling toward Essie. Pure instinct willed Essie’s action.

She raised both hands, clasping and locking her fingers except for her index and middle fingers, and brought her hand down in a slicing motion. ‘Scinde’ Essie thought as the ball hurdled toward her.

The flaming ball crashed into the ground and then, as Essie separated her hands and spread them out, the ball split into two halves and scattered around her, leaving a trail of flame where it made contact with the ground.

There it was again – that cackling laughter that chilled Essie’s heart and froze her bones. Daemia, if that was even the woman’s real name, smiled, revealing all of her teeth in a familiar, menacing grin.

“Ah! You do remember that much. Good. I’d hate to think that I spent all that time forging you into something usable only to have you lose all of your Potential,” grinned Daemia. Essie forced herself upright through the tremors in her body, even though every fragment of her wanted nothing more than to run and hide.

Essie needed something – anything – to distract this woman. Essie hated being the central focus of this arcane entity, especially now that it sounded like Daemia was her mentor at some point.

“What are you doing here? What is your purpose?” demanded Essie, exerting all the control she could to call out to Daemia, who turned her head to the side and looked confused.

“Interesting,” she muttered. “Your Potential and abilities have stayed intact, but your own purpose and memories were repressed. I would have thought that you would have been drawn to your directive.”

Drawn to her directive? Why did that sound so ominous? It was the word selection, not how she said it, that unnerved Essie, because a directive was some kind of command or instruction. If that were the case, who was giving commands?

“What do you mean by that?” asked Essie.

“Ezra, the directive has always been the same – expansion.”

Expansion? Essie watched the woman’s eyes shift for the first time from her to the town beyond.

No…

A few menacing words seeped through the veil in her mind, making Essie wince.

*“Destroy. Fixate and eliminate. Be a good little soldier!”*

“You’re going to destroy the town?” asked Essie disbelievingly. “No! You can’t! There are people there. Good people! They have lives and families. You can’t…”

“Oh, Ezra. We’ve gone over this once before. Their scope of reality is narrow. They’re simple-minded vertebrates. Believe me, this is a boon. It will be quick,” replied Daemia, the ease of her tone presented a nonchalant demeanor that unsettled Essie all the through to her soul.

“Don’t… please… don’t do this…” she said, trying to come up with some reason why this town should be spared, all while wishing desperately that Rylir would appear so she could grab him and escape.

“You know, this day is rather fortuitous indeed, isn’t it? Here I am scouting, in need of assistance, and the fates bring you to me,” said Daemia as she began advancing step after step. Essie took an involuntary step backward, stomach churning uneasily. “Ezra, you’ve been gone for so long. It’s time to come home. Come with me now. Help complete our mission. Fulfill your purpose. It’s what I made you for.”

It was rash – the rashest thing Essie had ever done in her entire life.

Essie raised her hands and thrust forward, a wave of thunderous energy blasting from her palms as she shouted, “NO!”