Draco's quest

16. Muddled Wizard

Narrator

Meanwhile, on the other side of the fantasy world, Volga had arrived at the court of the wizard king’s archenemy. He had spent enough time contemplating whether it was worth joining hands with Vamir, the one who had been continuously attacking them since the beginning of their time, just because he wanted to be the most powerful being in existence. But when he thought of how a mere slave was prioritized instead of him, he thought that it was the perfect way to get back at them.

He knelt in submission in front of Vamir, who was rather pleased that the wizards had made the mistake of casting off Volga, someone who was both a trained warrior and a skilled wizard. He stared at the well-built man, who was bowing down humbly in front of him as he, Vamir arrogantly sat on his black and grey throne. Yes. He loved it when people submitted to him. He just f*****g loved it.

Volga kept his head down in submission, not wanting to make eye contact with Vamir, who already had his ice-cold stare fixed on Volga. He was anxious. Though his cold and unsmiling face was still emotionless, his heart palpitated in his chest and discomfort blocked his airways. 

Vamir had always been the wizard king’s enemy. He had always wanted to destroy the prestigious kingdom. Thousands of years ago, his beast had almost succeeded in attaining what he wanted, the stone of power. That stone would have given him the kingdom of all the worlds, disrupting the balance of the universe. However, lord Tristan sacrificed himself in the fight just before Vamir could succeed and ever since that day, the stone had disappeared, and no one knew where it was. 

In addition to that, Lord Tristan had put a curse on his beast so that his beast froze before he could get his hands on the precious stone, and up to this day, it had stayed like that. It was said, that a day will come when the chosen one arrives. Someone who will find the key to success. And perhaps, to him, the stone will show itself. He will become the strongest of all. But no one would realise that he had arrived until it was too late. He will fight for the truth and finally become undefeatable.

Vamir didn’t give a damn about that prophecy. All he cared about was finding a way to release his beast. If he did manage to do so, he could snatch that stone right under their noses because the beast had powers which no one among them possessed.

 He knew there must be a way to uplift that stupid curse. And he knew he must do it before this ‘chosen one’ arrives. However, he had been failing each attempt to unfreeze him or conquer the pathetic kingdom ever since the beast was frozen. Perhaps, Volga could do something about it. After all, he had come from the same kingdom as that good for nothing Tristan. 

Vamir knew that it was so hard only because Tristan had sacrificed himself for them. His sacrifice had created a protective barrier that was hard to break. And that sacrifice had somehow made the stone of power disappear. Vamir had a small hope in his heart that somehow Volga would be able to break that curse and his beast would be released. 

When the beast is finally released, there would be a short time frame, when they could conquer the stone of power. Then, no one will be able to stop him. He would be the strongest. The chosen one would be too late.

Smirking at the buff, hairy wizard in front of him, he cleared his throat. 

“What brings you here Volga?” he asked though he was already aware of it. He wanted Volga to say it out loud. He had always spied on that kingdom, hoping to find out something new. Hoping to look for a way to release his beast. But no. Nothing had been in his favour for a long time. Until now.

“I have been cast out of the palace.” He answered. 

“Why?” 

“Because of a weak, useless slave.”

“What? I don’t think I heard that right. Can you repeat?”

“I have been driven out of the palace because of a useless human slave!” Volga felt his suppressed anger boil in his blood. 

“Huh? Louder!” 

“I was forced to leave that damn castle. All because of a weak useless human slave!” Volga’s voice gradually rose, and by the time he was done, he was breathing in deep gasps of breath, while his eyes were wide in anger, his fists clenched and teeth gritted. 

“I was cast out of the place I had worked for not caring about anything else, just because of a stupid human slave, your Grace!” Volga added after filling his lungs with a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down. 

Vamir let out a humourless laugh that echoed in the vast hall of his palace. It was nothing compared to the wizards’ dreamy palace. With a dark and dusty floor, to the high ceiling where a large chandelier hung in the centre. But the entire place was dull and gloomy, as black and grey was the main colour. Statues that look like angry dragons were placed evenly along the wall of the hall. Even Vamir’s throne was completely black and had something that looked like polished scales of dragons all over it. 

“Do you submit to me? Volga?” he bellowed, making his voice echo across the dull, yet the sophisticated interior of his castle. 

“I submit to you and promise to work for you Lord Vamir!” Volga added humbly as he kept his eyes fixed on the dusty ground.

There was a burning fire in his eyes. He was ready to do anything to get his revenge. He was even ready to submit to the Vicious Vamir, who had once almost destroyed the balance of the entire world. But to tell the truth, Volga couldn’t care less right now. His king had chosen to ignore his services and that too for a frail human slave. He was going to avenge that. 

He sure will get his revenge. And surely he was going to make that pathetic human beg for mercy before he finished him off. For that, he will work for someone sure to help him, and that person would be Lord Vamir. He would gladly form ties with Volga to declare war on them. During all the other times Vamir had tried to fight against them, Volga had played an important role in blocking their attacks. It was their loss that they chose a weak human over him. This time, he will be with Vamir. 

Too bad. That human cannot do anything for them. Forget blocking any attacks, he wouldn’t even be able to fend for himself. 

“Stand up Volga! I accept you in my army.” Vamir smirked. “It is their loss that they chose to let you go.” He muttered and stood up from his throne to walk over towards him, as Volga slowly stood up on his feet. 

“There is something we must do to accept you completely into our family. And that is to make you one of us.” He dropped his voice dangerously low and carefully studied Volga’s reaction. Though he didn’t show much emotion, it was certain that he was affected. Transitioning from a perfect pure wizard to a muddle wizard would be a painful process. But if that meant that he would get the revenge he desired, he was ready for it. 

“I am ready.” He replied firmly to which Vamir grinned from ear to ear. 

“Good. Because I hate those who chicken out of things.” Vamir replied and strolled back to his seat.

He clapped his hands together and soon the breeze swirled around in the centre of the hall, drawing a large circle on the ground. Slowly, 7 candles descended from the chandler and placed themselves in their positions. Seven people who had themselves completely covered in dark robes entered the hall, each holding a candle in their hands. 

“Now, bring the ceremonial dagger and bowl,” Vamir ordered and soon, one of his guards brought it for him. 

“Volga, step inside the circle.” He instructed. 

Taking in a deep breath, he followed his instructions. There was no going back. Soon, Volga would be a muddle wizard, which was something he never thought he would become. Of course, muddles were impure. They were the descendants of the devil himself. Almost all of them were mischief spreaders, and very rarely, a one with a pure heart was born among them. 

Becoming one of them meant that whatever pure was in him, will be gone forever. 

“Okay. Here goes.” 

With an erratic heart, he carefully stepped inside and halted in the centre. By this time, Vamir had placed the ceremonial dagger and bowl on a stand, facing away from Volga. He carefully removed his heavy robe, to reveal a ripped torso. Slowly he turned around, and when Volga saw how his face had transformed, his eyes widened and a sharp breath escaped his parted lips.

Gone were his piercing ice-blue eyes and fair skin. His attractive features were all replaced by what Volga had never seen in his entire life. His facial skin looked as if it was rotting, while his eyes were wide open with no eyelids. There was no nose, just two holes. His skin was more red than brown and he looked as if his eyes might pop out it’s socket any moment. It was bulging and had visible red veins on its sclera. 

“Now, commence the ritual!” he ordered in a raspy, eerie voice that seemed to fill the entire atmosphere, making Volga shudder.

The muddles who surrounded the circle started to chant some words which sounded alien to Volga. Of course, that would be the language of the demons. How could a pure wizard-like Volga understand it? As the chant intensified, the temperature of the atmosphere dropped several degrees, making Volga shiver and tremble with cold. He kept rubbing the palms of his hands together, trying to keep warm, but it was a waste of effort. None of it seemed to help. Suddenly he started to feel weak. As if all his energy was being sucked out of it. He felt that his knees were burdened by his weight and it would give away anytime. 

As time passed it became harder for him to keep his eyes open. The eyelids were just too heavy for him. Wait. The cold couldn’t do this to him! He realised. This must be the effect of their continuous chant. It was sucking all the energy out of him. And perhaps his soul too. 

“No!” he mumbled. But it was too late. He wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. He was too weak now and extremely exhausted. He knew, if he gave in to fatigue, they would complete his transitioning and then, he would never be the same. 

He slowly dropped on to the ground and lay face up, smearing his clean white shirt with the dirt and dust. 

“No.” 

His request was barely audible as he fought against his exhaustion. However, keeping his eyes open was the hardest. He started to feel an excruciating pain that originated from the chest that gradually spread all over his body. 

“Aaah” he let out a small shout of pain. 

“Let it go. Don’t fight against it. Let it claim you.”

Instructed the raspy and creepy voice of Vamir. But Volga’s conscience kept screaming, no! However, Volga was completely worn out. Slowly he gave in to whatever was trying to claim him or perhaps his soul and soon, darkness enveloped his consciousness.