The Iron Mage

Part 29: The Last Effort

"Are you certain that is what you want?" Ileim asked, interrupting Dane's scheming.

"What do you mean?"

"We've become quite closely knit, as of late. I can follow your thoughts. And I ask you: is this worth throwing our lives – and the corpus arcanum – away?"

The question gave Dane pause. Was this truly the right choice? In a way, the choice seemed obvious: the only reasonable way of winning this fight was getting Maximus into that pool of water. And the only way of doing that Dane could conceive of was... costly. If Dane were to grab hold of the cultist and then jump into the water himself, there would be little Maximus could do. Both of them would be sucked to the chilling and unknown depths of the mysterious maelstrom, ending the fight. There was no way Maximus could possibly survive the ordeal, as he was still a human, and though Dane no longer required oxygen, he figured that the force of the current would trap him at the bottom – he would be doomed to imprisonment here on the island for the rest of his existence. However, his companions would be able to escape. Finally, Dane made his decision.

"I... No. It is not worth it."

At first glance, Dane's answer was surprising. It almost seemed as if he was too afraid to save his friends. However, though he did fear for his life, the main reason lied in the fact that Dane had already been down this road once. As he thought back to the fateful day inside the ruins that contained the annihilation orb that had evaporated his original body, he could only remember the faces of his companions – and more to the point, their horrified expressions. He now understood how much his choice had hurt those who had cared for him. Sure, self-sacrifice could be valorous – but it always behind left scars that couldn't always heal. Simply put, no longer was he willing to chase his fantasy of a heroic sacrifice. Finally, he understood why Elín had been so angry with him.

"That is good to hear, I suppose. However, we still lack the means of winning this fight," Ileim said, her voice strained.

"We are not in this alone. We can only hope that the others will figure something out."

"Are you sure that they can?"

Dane paused. Then he noticed something flying toward them.

"I am absolutely certain."

Maximus, too, noticed the approaching object and reached out his arm to grab it from mid-air, as he had done with arrows before. However, at that exact moment, Ileim pressed her momentary attack and wound up a lightning-quick jab, aimed straight at Maximus's head. In a blink of an eye, the cultist made his choice. He turned his attention back toward Ileim, deftly parrying the attack. The choice was obvious, really, as any punch from the corpus arcanum had the potential of killing him, whereas he was fairly certain that his myriad amulets would defend him from any projectiles. Indeed, the object, a glass jar, seemed to hit an invisible wall and crashed against it, shattering into pieces and releasing its contents. As Maximus had shifted his full attention back to pummelling his opponent, he failed to take note of the fact that as soon as the yellow-brown liquid touched the ground, it started to evaporate. It was only when he smelled a faint hint of garlic that he realized something was off.

"Something the matter?" Dane asked in a voice thick with sarcasm.

He did not receive an answer, and he soon realized that the cultist had opted to hold his breath and was trying to get away from Ileim's – and the poison's – reach.

"Don't let him get away!"

"Way ahead of you."

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ileim had grasped what was happening. She unleashed a flurry of blows, none of which were particularly dangerous, yet which were threatening enough for Maximus to have to block them. Not to be outdone, Milo and Elín chimed in: the alchemist hurled colourful bottles high into the air, and Elín's unerring arrows shattered them, raining various liquids and powders down on the two combatants.