The Wordless Mage
Chapter 34: I’ll Find Him There

Chapter 34: I’ll Find Him There

"I don’t care, I’ll do it."

Her words were jarring, as if what he’d just said had no bearing on her mind.

"You don’t care...? I don’t believe you understand what that would entail. You would be trapped within Rowan’s mind possessed with hatred and demonic essence, unable to move or exercise any autonomy. You would be a drone, hovering endlessly in the backseat of another."

She stepped forward, both physically and metaphorically brushing aside his words.

"I don’t care."

She looked over at the demon-possessed Rowan, his mouth still hanging open in a laugh.

"It’s weird, seeing him like this. He believes he’s just met me, yet has treated me with the same kindness that I remember. It would be a mortal sin for me to leave him here to die."

She smiled, rubbing the back of her hand against his cheek.

"One I wouldn’t be able to live with."

Corien couldn’t help but mutter a ’what’ out of confusion.

"I don’t understand, all this for a boy you’ve just met?"

"There’s plenty of things you nor him know about me, yet that didn’t stop him, did it?"

He couldn’t quite grasp the meanings coming from her mouth, but he could at least understand the growing frustration she’d felt in not being able to do anything about his current state.

"Alright, if you’re fine with it. I just need you to understand that there’s no guarantee that he can be redeemed, especially if he’s truly contracted with a demon."

"No, there is," she responded, her voice certain, "I know it. Rowan will without a doubt meet whatever criteria your sword sets. If not, I’ll see to it myself."

Violently, she wheezed a painful breath of air from her lungs, clutching onto her chest with her left hand while the blue surrounding them flickering in and out.

"It looks like you’re running out of time there," Corien said quietly, looking down with a more affirmative posture, "if there’s any time to do this, it’s now."

Liora looked up, grabbing onto the tip of his blade with iron-tight grip.

"Leave it to me. Just allow me to enter his mind."

"Woah-o, don’t be so hasty there. This blade is a little too heavy for you to hold--if you want to keep your arms, that is. Share your grip with me."

After she nodded, he propped her up from the ground by her arm, allowing her a moment to catch her breath before he hung the sword out in front of her.

Weakly, her fingers coiled around the hilt, the sheer power from the blade bleeding into her skin. It was insane, the amount of energy bundled up into one little blade, the air quivering from its very existence, but she had little room to worry about that.

"You should probably ease up a little," Corien said, raising the blade forward step by step towards Rowan while following her speed, "and release whatever arcana you’ve placed around here. I can’t even begin to fathom the amount of energy you’re expending to bend time like this."

Agreeing, the tension in her chest eased in compliance with the blue shattering into tiny imaginary shards.

"Wh-what--" the demon stuttered, the energy in its palms surging erratically from the diversion of his attention.

"Now," Corien yelled, turning his head to Liora, "push your aether into Excalibur, and I’ll handle the rest!"

Instantly, she listened, a bright white flash forming in the small space between the tip of Excalibur and Rowan’s head.

Without even so much as a beat of warning, Liora’s peripheral vision dyed black, her stomach beginning to pull ahead of the rest of her body.

Like a rope had been attached to her waist and tugged, she felt something within her dislodge, moving away from her vessel.

It was transparent yet still visible, crafted in the same shape as her body but floating beyond the constraints of gravity.

"Is this the soul..." she muttered, although nobody else seemed to hear.

Her vision was removed completely, the only sensation she’d felt being the passing wind brushing over her form.

As she’d begun whirring through the air--or whatever filled the new realm--streaks of blue began to swerved over and through her, like the imagery of passing through hyperspace in Star Wars or warp drive in Star Trek.

Her mind couldn’t process all the information, clamping her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to protect itself.

After a few moments, her head jolted to her front from the sudden halt in her momentum.

She’d been undoubtedly inebriated, although she couldn’t put her finger on why.

Despite having a human form, her spirited projection didn’t have any of the many mechanisms that played into sickness such as the gag reflex, although she certainly felt like she missed it after such intense movement.

No, it wasn’t the inundation in information either, and it certainly wasn’t the feeling of being alone in the dark.

Wait, the dark?

She was floating in an endless expanse, her body slowly turning from residual force.

The void almost called to her, beckoning for her to respond to its urges and reach out for it, although she resisted in fear that something alien would attach itself or even attack her.

No, what she needed to do was find Rowan within this space, her mind clinging onto faint feelings of familiarity in the air.

She flailed her arms and legs, trying to any form of velocity, but she only caused her rotational force to increase some, no real translation occurring.

"Well, that’s no good--wait, what’s that?"

There was a sliver of white above her, only visible because of its slight tilt. It slowly grew in size, the writings on it becoming more and more obvious.

No, it’s not growing, it’s hurtling towards me!

She flailed her limbs even harder and cried out in panic, the frantic pattering of her heart drowning out her own sound.

Fwish!

The large panel of white--soon revealed to be paper--just barely missed her, although its displacing of air was enough to send her flying the opposite way.

She entered an uncontrollable spin, the void offering no form of resistance to slow her down.

It was with this that she called out, hoping that perhaps Corien or another could reach out for her.

"Pathetic," a voice bellowed, too far way for her to either hear nor witness.

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