Assignment three by Satan_Klaus

[Satan_Klaus]

Ok finally here is my third assignment for level three. I continued in the tradition of using different styles and settings for my writer's block assignments. I hope you like it.

Satan_Klaus


Dreamshaped

„They wanted to murder you, your highness.” The guard in the crimson armor reported and stepped back. The princess slowly rose from the throne, her robes flowing up around her, never touching the ground, as she strode towards her prisoners. From up close Casamir could see that it was not common magic but a gaggle of tiny, naked pixy slaves that carried the train of the princess’ regal gown.

“Is that so?” she asked, the piercing stare of her pitch black eyes scanning over the pathetic prisoners kneeling before her, an elite guard’s blade at the throat of each. In his second sight, Casamir could see a bright fire burning in those horrible eyes, the flame of magic, stronger than he had ever seen before.

Casamir was not a murderer, he was a hero, and so was Ulf who now spoke up, proudly proclaiming that they had come to free the land of the tyrant. They had failed, though and the two of them were all that was left of their fellowship.

The deadly beauty made only the slightest gesture with her finger and the last of Casamir’s companions died a hero’s death. As Ulf slid down the guard’s serrated blade, bright red blood spilled all over his wild blonde hair and beard. Even in death, there was defiance in the proud north-man’s eyes. If he had just managed to swallow his pride this once, he might have lived.

“Throw the other in the deepest cell!” The mage-princess ordered. “I will deal with him later.”



The spiral stairs seemed endless as Casamir was led down into the dark cellars of the castle. It was rumored that none who were brought down here ever saw the light of day again. The creaking of the guards’ boots and the rattle of the crystal golems was the only sound that accompanied him for a long time. They passed dozens of doors, all guarded by the ubiquitous soldiers in crimson armor until they finally arrived at a massive door, emblazoned with mystical runes and reinforced with iron bands and crystal shards. His jailer spoke a word of power and the door slowly opened, allowing access to the lowest level. A strong gale blew in Casamir’s face, ruffling his hair and flaunting his cloak.

The door of his cell was pure crystal; translucent-blue, magic eating crystal. As he was pushed in and the door bolted behind him, Casamir stumbled and fell, overwhelmed by the scenery. Miles below, separated only by a barely visible crystal floor, the earth was moving slowly under him. The gargantuan shadow of princess Lysande’s flying castle passed over a bank of clouds, then fell to the distant ground again, moving over rolling hills and tiny villages, striking terror in the hearts of her subjects.

Casamir unsteadily got to his feet and tried to walk but stumbled again. He knew that the floor was solid, but the sight had robbed him of his sense of balance. As he consciously tore his eyes from the crystal floor, he noticed that he was not alone in his cell. Huddled up in the far corner and wrapped tightly in her tattered, midnight blue robes sat another inmate of this outlandish prison. Casamir approached her with little steps, keeping one hand on the wall to steady him and never looking down. He could walk the tightrope, even without the aid of magic, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

The girl was apathetic, intensely staring down at the passing landscape below with eyes wide open. “Hello?” he asked, waving his hand in front of her face without eliciting a reaction. He gently shook her and finally she tore herself away from the terrible, hypnotic height. She had dark rings under her eyes from missed sleep and it looked as if she had been sick recently but Casamir could see the beauty that was hidden under the grime and wear.

“Who…who are you?” she asked, her words slowly trailing out of her.

“I’m Casamir.” he answered, stroking the matted, auburn hair away to better see her face. Some light was slowly returning to her eyes, now that there was something else to look at than the passing landscape so far below.

“Tanya, Tanya of the house of stars.” She answered. “Not that it matters anymore” she mumbled on. Casamir had heard of the house of stars, one of the great wizard guilds; had heard of their deeds and also how they had fallen from grace.

“How long have you been here?” he asked. Maybe the girl knew of some way how they could escape this prison. Casamir’s connection to the magic had been severed the moment they had locked the crystal door behind him but maybe there was some other way, some mundane way, to get out of here.

“Don’t know…” she said “…stopped counting.” Casamir sighed, obviously the girl would not be much use but he refused to give in so easily: Too many of his friends had died for him to abandon his mission. “Magic’s gone,” she said “nothing left.”

Casamir risked a glance down at the transparent floor but rued it immediately as the girl’s gaze followed his. “No use escaping down.” She said. “Can’t fly and no one is coming to rescue us from below. There are air elementals blocking the way. Keeping the castle aloft, bound by elder spells. Can’t you feel their fury?”

He could feel nothing; his second sight was gone along with what little magic he had, but maybe the girl’s sense of power was stronger than his, or maybe she had already drifted off into insanity. She was probably right anyway; whatever force had been bound to keep Princess Lysande’s Castle aloft would likely rip anything so close below it to shreds.

“What kind of wizard are you anyway?” Casamir asked. His own power was limited but if he had read her brooch right, she was a war wizard of the house of stars. Once outside the magic-absorbing cell she might actually be useful.

“Spellbreaker.” She said and his heart sank. Of all the possible war-wizards to share his cell, fate had dealt him the most useless. He tried not to show his frustration, though. If he wanted to get the girl to help him in any way, he had to keep up her spirits. “You?” she asked, some hope creeping into her voice.

“Dreamshaper.” He answered. The girl only laughed at that. “I should be offended.” He thought. Not many mages respected his gift of magic. “But at least she is laughing again.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She said as if he was somehow guilty of his profession. “Crystal golems bring the food.” She trailed on. “They are immune to magic, anyway.”



The two mages ate a paltry meal of stale bread and water together as the landscape below them basked in the fading light of a midsummer’s evening. Later, the lights of the villages below became the stars on their upturned sky. Casamir found the sight only slightly discomforting but he could understand how, given time, it had driven Tanya to the brink of madness. He had spread his cloak below her so she would not see the floor if she looked down and it helped a little. His powers were mostly gone but he had enough left to send her to merciful sleep at last. Or maybe it was his mundane presence alone, he wondered, as he felt nothing from his usual sense of the dreaming.



“What are you doing?” Tanya asked sleepily as she felt the cold, wet rag on her face in the morning.

“Washing you” he answered “and discovering the beauty underneath.” Casamir, with his powers not in high demand, had worked with a traveling troupe of artists for some years before he had joined Ulf in this ill fated gamble. He had worked as a fortune teller, reading the dreams and desires of his customers and, in this way, had been more successful than any mage with a real gift to see the future could have been. But he also knew the dramatic arts and was now using the minimal tools at his disposal to freshen up his cellmates looks. As Tanya eyed herself in the polished brooch that Casamir held up as a mirror, a long lost smile slowly crept over her face again.

“So how are you planning on getting out of here, anyway?” she finally asked as Casamir paced the cell, closely inspecting every crevice and every outcropping of crystal on the cell’s wall. “The walls and the door are magic eating crystal. There is no weak point. Believe me, I checked. Not that your powers, or mine for that matter, would be much use anyway.”

“You are in a prison meant to hold a wizard.” he retorted “So stop thinking like one!” He stopped in front of the door, tapping the bluish crystal to estimate its thickness. “As you like to point out, my powers are quite useless in most situations so I learned to make do without them. Maybe we could overwhelm the crystal golem that brings the food?”

“Fight a golem without magic?” Tanya asked incredulously.

“It’s not an iron golem or a blade golem. It’s not meant for combat and crystal is brittle. If we trip it, it might break.” Casamir mused.

“And what use would that be?” She asked. “You have seen how the golems don’t have to use the door. They morph right through the wall so we would still be trapped inside here and the guards probably won’t appreciate us destroying their help.”

“I have a plan but I need you to trust me.” He said, glancing hopefully at the young war mage. “Do you?”



The golem, still partially animated but missing several limbs from the hard fall and repeated abuse, slammed against the crystal door again. Casamir struggled with its remaining arm but managed to keep the struggling golem under control. “Ready?” he asked aligning it with the door again. “And push!”

With an almighty crash the makeshift battering ram broke down the crystal door of their prison cell and they basked in the winds of magic again. Casamir knew that Tanya was beautiful, but now, she was radiant. Her tattered blue robes revealed glimpses of her shapely body that made him long for more and the sweat from the recent exertion made her skin glisten in the light of the torches. Her auburn hair that he had combed back into shape with nothing but water and his fingers now flowed freely in the breeze. But it was her eyes that drew him in the most. He could loose himself in these radiant pools of green, and her flame of magic, rekindled, burned a cold deep blue as befitting a spellbreaker.

“Don’t just stand there like an idiot!” she shouted at Casamir, rousing him from his revelry. “The guards will be here soon.”

As if on cue, a pair of crimson-clad guards, accompanied by a tall, menacing figure in black robes turned the corner. The soldiers drew their swords and slowly approached the fugitives, weary of the magic that they might wield, while the wizard charged his powers into a long silver staff.

As the first guard came into reach, Casamir called forth a being of dread and shadow, born out of darkness and despair. It cast its fiery gaze on its unfortunate victim and raised the hellscythe to cleave him in two. Panicked, the guard raised his shield but the scythe, along with the monstrosity vanished into smoke as it touched him. Casamir had used the distraction to pick up a long, sharp crystal shard and thrust it like a dagger into the unprotected side of the soldier just as he held up his shield to fend of the illusionary attacker. The other, now aware of the kind of magic Casamir employed took a swing at the young dreamshaper but it was weak and fell short of his intended target as Morpheus’ call sent him gently off into dreamland.

The air crackled with energy as the wizard on the far end of the corridor finished his spell, no longer hindered by the intervening footmen. Casamir dove back into the cell, hoping that the crystal would protect him from the burning energies of the lightning bolt that the stormcaller had conjured while Tanya stood there unmoving. Casamir reached out to pull her into the cell with him but she evaded his hand, her hair already standing on ends from the impeding static discharge. He could do nothing but watch as a searing white lightning arced from the wizards’s silver staff, grounding itself into his friend.

When his vision cleared and the burning smell of ozone filled his nostrils, Tanya was still standing there, ripples of energy flowing down her body and into the ground without touching her. “Is that all, stormcaller?” She asked as the surprised wizard hurried to cast his next spell. Casamir could do nothing but watch as the wizard and the spellbreaker dueled each other; his own powers were nothing compared to the raw energies that flooded the corridor in front of him.

A standing lightning arc formed between the fighters as the stormcaller tried to batter down Tanya’s defenses and for a while Casamir’s world was nothing but brightness, noise and the smell of ozone. As the crackling died down and he dared to open his eyes again, the stormcaller had sunken to the ground but sparkles of energy and occasional brush-discharges were still flowing out of his staff. Obviously, he had overtaxed his powers.

Tanya held out her arms wide, forcing the conduits of power open again, against the resistance of the fallen wizard. Another standing arc formed between the two but when it died down, nothing but a charred husk remained of the stormcaller, drained of all magic and life force, still clutching his smoldering wizard’s staff.

“For the moment we are safe.” Tanya said, as she leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. The noise they had made was drowned out by the gale that constantly swept the bowels of the flying castle and Tanya had unraveled the spells of warning that could have alerted the captain of the watch of their escape.

“We have to get to the princess’ quarters.” Casamir announced and Tanya shot him an incredulous look. “I assume as a wizard of the house of stars, you have no love for your Princess.” Casamir insinuated and Tanya nodded at that. “My companions and I came here to end the war.” He explained. “We wanted to take her hostage so that her father would have to make peace with my people.”

“You are mad.” Tanya stated flatly. “No one gets into the Princess’ quarters and even if you did, she is one of the most powerful mages there are. Even when she sleeps, there are so many spells and wards protecting her that no magic can touch her.”

“True.” He admitted. “But hear me out. If my plan works, we won’t have to fight her, nor her guards. I’m a Dreamshaper, you know, and dreams are hard to protect: they are elusive. Especially those of the initiated tend to wander.” He explained.
Tanya was baffled. “You want to control her thoughts through her dreams?” she asked. “But her mind will be protected and even if you could get past the magic wards, you can’t just walk out of this castle with the princess.”

“No, but she with me.” He corrected. “And I don’t want to control her thoughts; I’m not strong enough for that. I want to make her fall in love with me.” Tanya’s mouth dropped open, unable to belief what he was telling her. “My companions and I sneaked into the kitchen just under her rooms and from there I captured a glimpse of her dreams, of her most intimate desires. When I step into her chambers, I will be her prince charming and she won’t be able to resist me.”

“That’s…that’s crazy talk.” Tanya said. “You mad plan will never work!”

“Really? Watch me!” Casamir retorted and spoke the words that pulled the glamour of last night’s dream over his face. Tanya watched as her companion’s features twisted, his cheekbones rising under his skin and his hair turning pitch black. His eyebrows arched and his eyes turned a piercing, steely blue that gave him an intimidating, yet appealing look. On the whole, he had acquired a darkly predatory air that stirred something deep inside Tanya and made her shiver.

“She will…she will know that it is just an illusion.” Tanya said, slowly coming to doubt her doubts.

“Of course, but only if she is looking for it. We all see what we want to see and no one, neither peasant girl nor princess, can deny her dreams. So will you help me?” he asked hopefully.

“Fine.” She said after considering her options. The house of stars lay in ruins and her friends and teachers were dead or in prison so she had nothing to return to anyway. Casamir’s plan seemed like suicide but she realized that there was indeed a slim hope of success. And with it, a slim hope for revenge.

“We need to reach the princess’ quarters without being noticed.” Casamir repeated. “But first we need some things. I reckon there is a torture chamber somewhere in this prison?”

“What could you possibly need from a torture chamber?” Tanya asked incredulously.

“Oh you wouldn’t believe what this Princess wants her prince charming to do to her.” Casamir explained with a wicked smile that showed his perfectly white teeth as he slipped into his designated role.

[Ruby]

Satan_Klaus,

I will be spending some quality time with this story a bit later in the week. First read is for enjoyment. Second is for those "editing nits".

After reading the first section, I'm finding it very hard to stop. Alas, duty (aka work) calls.

Please, please, write on!

Ruby

[Ruby]

Satan_Klaus,

I couldn't wait!

This is a wonderful tale of adventure. There's magic, wizards, a duel and something to look forward to in the future, or perhaps only in my imagination.

It's a delightful ending with a teasing twist.

There are many elements to be enjoyed and savored in this piece.

Thank you!

Ruby

PS

My next post will focus on suggestions for the editing refresh.

[Satan_Klaus]

In my ongoing attempt to find my own style, I tried to capture the spirit of "sword and sorcery" in a world of epic magic.

One of the things I noticed while discussing short stories with beswitchingly is that there is no room for a detailed background which makes writing a fantastic setting so difficult. I fell back to leaving everything unexplained but most readers are at least somewhat familiar with such a world from some late night movie or high-school D&D session. I think without such familiartity, a short story with such a massive baggage of necessary background information would not be viable.

Satan_Klaus

PS: I hope you liked my interpretation of the "dungeon" requirement.

[Ruby]

In my ongoing attempt to find my own style, I tried to capture the spirit of "sword and sorcery" in a world of epic magic.

Yes, you did capture it quite nicely.

One of the things I noticed while discussing short stories with beswitchingly is that there is no room for a detailed background which makes writing a fantastic setting so difficult.

I wonder why this appears to be true. Perhaps we limit our short stories, making them "too short", or haven't found a way to merge a few carefullly descriptive paragraphs into the greater piece. I'd be interested in what others have to say about this.

I fell back to leaving everything unexplained but most readers are at least somewhat familiar with such a world from some late night movie or high-school D&D session. I think without such familiartity, a short story with such a massive baggage of necessary background information would not be viable.

This you handled very well and yes, I agree.

Satan_Klaus

PS: I hope you liked my interpretation of the "dungeon" requirement.

Yes, I did. It was very creative. Go you!

[Beswitchingly Positive]

Hey Satan,

Nice story! Such a great idea, the floating castle, I want one.

So, I don't remember saying that about detailed background, but it makes sense. I think you could do sci fi or fantasy easily as a short with little background, as long as it is identified as that kind, sci fi or fantasy, the reader could try filling in some of the blanks in the background. Filling in the blanks can be great fun, especially if the story leads your mind in strange directions. I wish I could think of an example.

I liked the flow of this, it moved nicely. It did seem more like a chapter than a short story, as we got a cliffhanger effect at the end. I liked the logic of defeating hoity-toity mages with simple brute force and clever trickery. What a dedicated hero, bound to set things right no matter what he has to do; swab a bedraggled cellmate back to life or whip the ass of a very bad princess. Now that's a sexy hero. There was so much left to happen and you left them in such an unresolved position...

Again, nice piece. I haven't been reading anything lately because I have been writing and I can't read and write at the same time. This was a nice surprize.

Beswitching

[Satan_Klaus]

Hey Satan,
So, I don't remember saying that about detailed background, but it makes sense.

No you never said that but it occurred to me while we were discussing short stories.

I liked the flow of this, it moved nicely. It did seem more like a chapter than a short story, as we got a cliffhanger effect at the end. I liked the logic of defeating hoity-toity mages with simple brute force and clever trickery. What a dedicated hero, bound to set things right no matter what he has to do; swab a bedraggled cellmate back to life or whip the ass of a very bad princess. Now that's a sexy hero. There was so much left to happen and you left them in such an unresolved position...

Dreamshaped is complete in a way as it is. There is a cliffhanger ending but it is surprising and sweet in a wicked way. Hopefully it succeeded in shaping the dreams of my readers the night after reading it…

I’m sorry to disappoint (again). It seems like many of my ideas scream for a continuation but I’m afraid I don’t have time for everything. Do you know how much effort I have already put into a single big project (the litany of fire). I can’t imagine doing several. Maybe when I’m retired…so check back in some 50 years


PS:
Flying castles are now available for lease from “Satan_Klaus’ flying castles” (Ltd.)
Prize: Your soul.

[Beswitchingly Positive]

I liked it! Wow, SK, most writers strive to leave the reader wanting more...I declare no disappointment. It is regretable you read it that way.

{pssst, just because you leave a lady begging for more, does not mean she was disappointed...}

Now, about the flying castle, did you mean price, my soul?

I read somewhere that's not what you really want..."dammned souls are a dime a dozen, after all." wish I could remember the guys name who wrote that, book called 'Pacts with the Devil' (very informative)oh, and definately not unless I get to read the contract, with my glasses on, in good lighting, with no time limit.

Then we'll talk about a lease.

Did you remember to tag it with your copyright? Crap, I just remembered that, thinking how damn good your little story was

[Satan_Klaus]

Did you remember to tag it with your copyright? Crap, I just remembered that, thinking how damn good your little story was

Do you mean "Flying Castles Ltd. ™" or "Dreamshaped © 2007 by Satan_Klaus" ?

Well i did neither, but you are right, I should have added my ©-header to the story.

Satan_Klaus