Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) by D'Artagnan Rey (i am reading a book txt) 📗

But as he launched the massive waves of flames at the young Templar trainee, the boy disappeared. Salvo shuddered and turned when he felt a presence behind him. His adversary reappeared and before his feet even touched the ground, he struck out with his blade. Salvo snarled defiance and gathered the fire for another attack, but Achroma sank deep into his chest.

“Only a little longer!” Wulfsun shouted and placed his hands on the edge of the ward. “I’m activating it now.” It glowed and turned the yellow of his mana. He dropped the protective shield around the rift and it began to stagnate and no longer pulsed with magic, although something dark flowed into it from above. He looked at a thin line of abyssal magic that came from the very top of the dome. It was able to funnel into the rift even through Farah’s shield, and the strand continued to grow as the flow moved faster. “It’s done!” he shouted and turned to the guard captain. “The abyssal magic is returning to its realm. We need to go.”

“What about the rift?” she asked and pointed in alarm. “It’s opening again.”

The Templar turned and realized that it had indeed begun to open, but it was not growing. “The ward will keep it contained. We need to destroy the obelisks but it opened to absorb the magic coming in.” He gestured around them. “Drop the shield and let’s go.”

Farah released her barrier and pointed to the top of the pit. “Those fires above are getting weaker.” Wulfsun noticed that the once-raging flames had begun to shrink and flickered weakly. Something had happened above.

Devol moved to pull his blade out of Salvo but the man stumbled back and removed the blade himself. He looked at the wound and shook visibly, either in shock or rage. The boy held Achroma in one hand, breathing heavily, and he grimaced at the blade coated by his adversary’s blood.

The fire magi began to chuckle and looked slowly at him. “A nice…hit,” he muttered and coughed. Fresh drops of blood came from beneath the mask, “How does it feel? To kill a man?” The boy did not answer and simply gazed at him with contempt, although there was a brief flicker of concern that set the maniac off. “Relish it! Don’t you balk now, coward!” he screamed and the voice of the mask fell away. “Do you think I’m the worst this realm has to offer? You had best get used to this if you dare to stand up to him.”

“To who?” Devol demanded. “Who are you working for?”

Salvo lurched forward but stopped himself and began to laugh again. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t see the new world but neither will you.” With a shaking hand, he began to point his wand at the boy, who did not respond by lifting his blade. Instead, he dropped it, rushed forward, and focused the rest of his mana on vis as he balled his fist. He drove it into the mask and the blow catapulted the man back. Fragments of the mask shattered and splintered off.

The fire magi fell through the fires around the pit as Wulfsun and Farah leapt up. They spun as he passed them and Devol ran to the edge and watched as he fell into the bottom of the pit and directly into the portal. The man reached a hand up as the rift seemed to yawn hungrily and the bottom half of his body sank immediately into the rift. A chunk of the mask was destroyed and revealed one eye that showed, anger, confusion, and fear.

As Salvo slid into the abyss and it shrank behind him, the Templar pointed to the obelisks, whose runes were now blank. “Farah!”

“I’m on it.” She picked her sword up, enchanted it with light, and swiped at the air to create a magical projectile that cut one of the obelisks in half. She swung her arm and destroyed the other, which shattered and spat pieces in every direction. “Devol, you have your marble, right?”

He checked his pants pocket and took it out. “I do,” he said as Wulfsun retrieved his as he stooped to take something off the ground.

“We need to leave. Use it,” she ordered and immediately disappeared in a flash of mana.

Devol looked at his mentor, who nodded to him with a solemn expression. “Come on, lad. We should talk.” With that, they activated their marbles as the dome continued to shrink and the magics returned to their rightful dimension.

Chapter Thirty-Two

When Wulfsun and Devol escaped the dome, they were greeted by corpses and fire. “Aw, hells.” The Templar grunted and scowled regretfully at some of the fallen. “I should have realized.”

“Wulfsun!” Farah shouted and gestured for him to join a small group. “There are survivors.”

“I’ll be right there.” He placed a large hand on the boy's shoulder. “You did good, lad. I’ll talk to you in a moment but you should check in with your friends, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and looked for Jazai and Asla. They were farther down the field near the hills and he rushed to them. The diviner was tending Asla’s wounds. “Hey, are you guys all right?”

The other boy nodded silently at first before he looked briefly away from his work. “Did you get him?”

Devol drew a deep breath and nodded. “I did.”

“What happened?” Asla asked when she saw the burns on his body. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine after I see a healer,” he assured them and traced a hand over his wounds. “As for what happened, I was able to get around him.” He took the dagger out. “Using Rogo’s gift, I was able to get a hit.” He placed a hand carefully on his chest. “Right through his chest.”

“Did you get the heart?” Jazai inquired as he stared at his friend’s blade and noted the drying blood.

Devol fell back a little in surprise.