He wondered why it would have help back for a second while all the disparate pieces of the beast floated around in his mind. Slowly, he placed them together to make a full picture, and instantly, he knew what the beast was – a Trebor. A powerful Death Beast that could wipe out legions of lesser humans by itself.
By the eyes of the Jheriem, I wish I could undo what I just did and take back seeing that monstrosity, Gallian thought down-heartedly, wishing now more than ever that the beast would just go away and leave him alone. He had heard tales of Death Beasts before – all Sages had – but he’d never seen one in person before. That sort of thing was for the Battle Sages. And he was no Battle Sage. His hope for surviving the day faltered even further.
Okay, that’s it, that’s the last straw. I swear here and now that if I find a way to survive this terror, I will pray every day to the god Ekim for luck, and to Esmerelda for her undying mercy. Doesn’t look like that will happen, though.
His nose wrinkled, his mind going back to the beast behind him. How did a Trebor break into this Palace anyway, what with all the guards and everything? Oh, that doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is he plans to kill me, and then he’ll probably go to Sanctuary, as well. Those Guardian Sages will be more than a match. Of course, if all our other guards couldn’t do it, then maybe they can’t, either? I have to do something before this beast breaks into Sanctuary! Looks like this time, the prayers stop here!
Gallian felt alive and mighty again, and looked back at the beast only to be surprised that the havealooksy spell was still working. He let out a yelp of fear and averted his gaze once more to save what was left of his trumped-up confidence. With all the determination left to him, he tried to find some resource still available to him that could defeat such a foe. He had no magic spells powerful enough, that he was certain of. He had never learned much of anything useful for combat. At two hundred, he was still weak and young, after all.
A flash of an idea flooded his brain, and he knew what he had to do. He needed to use the forbidden Tytin magicks. It was his only hope of making it out alive.
Saying a quick prayer that his foe would remain peaceful long enough, Gallian looked deep inside himself. He scooped up every ounce of power he could reasonably let flow while remaining awake in the manner only Sages knew of. He focused all the energy in one point and tried to remember the right words for the forbidden magic he was about to use. It was hard to remember, since it was all another language, and he had only heard it once while being told not to use it. After several moments of concentrating, he recalled the right word.
Gallian slowly closed his eyes and raised his hands to prepare for the casting. Clenching his fists as tightly as he could, he took in a deep breath and screamed, “DIE!” in the ancient tongue.
The volume of his voice was enough that any Sage in the palace would able to hear it, and upon doing so fear for their lives. The power invoked was enough to make the ground shake around him, and many of the pillars and statues started to crumble from the pressure. Then, a large fissure formed under the fountain to his left, and at the same time, Gallian could hear the screams of several Sages as they met their untimely death.
“TREBOR!” Gallian cried out just as vibrantly as before, hoping to contain and direct the forbidden Tytin magic and focus it solely on the creature behind him, instead of letting it lash out at everything like he’d done in his previous haste and terror.
Oh my Gods! Gallian thought in horror. How could I have been so foolish? He had heard tales of what could happen when the forbidden magicks were used incorrectly. Without parameters to contain their violent magic powers, the devastation a Tytin spell could unleash was unimaginable. And just now, it may have killed many innocent Sages for no reason.
I see now the folly of using the forbidden art, and swear never to do it again, kind masters. Please, Esmerelda, do not let this destruction continue because I messed up. Do not let everything die! I vow that if you, the Jheriem, our Savior, will allow me to correct my mistake now, I will offer many sacrifices and will not use the magic again.
The destruction around him stopped that very instant, as did the mortifying screams of his Sage compatriots. Gallian took a few calming breaths as the Trebor behind him fell to the ground, killed by the Tytin spell. Strangely, the magic making it invisible ended in the same moment.
Evidently, the being controlling him knows he’s dead, he thought, scratching his chin. But how could that be?
It was a mystery that would have to wait. The young Sage wanted to fall down to his knees and cry, but had not the time. He wiped the would-be tear from his eye and focused all his attention on the damage to the Great Hall, which, needless to say, no longer looked that great. The most obvious damage were the fissures in the ground, which could take a while to fix if not handled with care.
The rest of the hallway had also suffered considerably. The ceiling had several holes in it now, all of them brand new. The pillars on the sides of the hall had suffered hideously as well, a good half of them being cracked
