James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

"Try going human," Sevren suggested.

"I-" he started to say that he couldn't, then he remembered Jesmind saying that they could take on a human shape, but only for a very short time. "I'll try," he said. She said it would hurt, so he closed his eyes and clenched his paws into fists, getting ready for it. Then he formed the image of him as he was in his human form, then willed the change.

It was like being dunked in boiling pitch. Every inch of his skin seemed to catch on fire, and his bones began to throb. His blood was like liquid fire in his veins, and his heart began to pound like he'd run across the world with the four moons on his back. He almost fell to his knees under the sudden blazing pain, but he remembered that he was doing it for a reason. He staggered forward, hands out, desperately trying to get over the boundary of the circle before it killed him.

But his hands struck that same invisible barrier.

With an explosive release of breath, Tarrin resumed his normal shape, and fell to his knees panting. A sheen of sweat was glossing his skin, and he was holding his chest in one paw as his tail thrashed violently, nearly tripping Sevren. "Lad, are you alright?" Sevren asked in sudden concern, putting his hands on Tarrin's back. Tarrin felt the icy sensation of Sorcerer's Healing rush through him, and the icy cold froze away the pain and washed most of it out, but it didn't take away the aftershock or the memory.

"Don't you ever ask me to do that again!" he hissed, still panting furiously. "I don't think I'll ever walk right again!" Jesmind had endured that? For six days ? He had a very powerful new respect for his bond-mother. He looked at his paw, seeing familiar pads and fur and claws. He could still feel the tingling in them.

"Alright, so you can't just change shape to get out. Hmm," he mused, helping Tarrin stand. "I guess what makes you what you are doesn't change, no matter what shape you wear." He went back to looking at the floor. "I can't see the weaves hiding the runes. They must have stranded them somehow. But they couldn't do that," he said. "Only a Sorcerer can hide a weave."

"Stranded?"

"A technique to hide a weave from a Sorcerer's probes," he said absently. "You charge the weave so it can sustain itself, then stretch-nevermind, it's too hard to explain. I'm going to need some help. Stay calm, I'm going to go outside to tell someone to fetch some katzh-dashi . We can erase the runes with Ritual Sorcery, whether we can see them or not." Sevren stood up and stepped outside the barrier, pointing at the blond young man and then motioning him off. Tarrin looked at the floor, trying to fathom what Sevren was talking about. There were symbols on the floor that were making the magical barrier in which he was trapped, symbols that had to be erased. But were they inside or outside? Maybe he could scratch-

The air suddenly became very cold, and a familiar smell saturated the air, the smell of death. A smell Tarrin knew too well, one he would never forget.

The smell of a Wraith.

To: Title EoF

It coalesced from the dark shadows that seemed to swirl up from the floor, the immaterial taking form, condensing into the shadowy body and glowing green eyes that Tarrin had seen twice before. The air was bitingly cold, Tarrin's breath misting before him, as if it too was trapped inside the barrier and was isolated from the warmer air outside. The undead shade grew into its full height, and its glowing eyes blazed with sudden evil eagerness as it started to move. Despite the fact that Tarrin was more than a head taller than the undead creation, he had the sensation of being trapped in a cage with a rampaging bear.

It was all an elaborate trap, designed to trap him inside with the Wraith. But knowing that didn't help him at the moment. Baring his fangs, he growled at the creature, the Cat boiling up in his mind to try to wrest control from him. But the Wraith was unimpressed at his show of threat, advancing on him at a slow, almost leisurely manner, almost as if it knew that Tarrin had nowhere to run. It reached for him lazily, and then was surprised when Tarrin was simply not there. Tarrin was ten spans over the creature's head, having vaulted straight up. He pushed off the barrier behind him and landed on the far side of the symbol, quickly taking in his surroundings. The symbol was about ten paces across, which was very little room to maneuver, but he had an unlimited ceiling with which to work. If he had a chance to use it. The Wraith turned around quickly, its eyes glowing in hatred as it advanced on him again.

Tarrin struggled with the Cat for control as it tried to get him to fight, to fight as any cornered animal would when threatened with death. But the Cat didn't understand that this was not an enemy that could be battled with teeth and claws. Tarrin had seen the creature put its hand through a man's chest. It was a body without substance, which used its deathly cold as its weapon. If he tried to rake it, his paw would pass through it, and he would probably lose his paw. The Wraith seemed to understand this, and it was taking its sweet time to close the distance, almost allowing Tarrin to contemplate his fate. Then it struck at him again. Tarrin dodged it easily, dancing away, putting his back to the barrier, then rolling to side as it took yet another swing, staying out of its reach. It staggered forward, then it too struck the barrier and rebounded.

It was trapped in here with him.

It rushed on him with sudden, shocking speed, a single arm lashing out from the side. It struck Tarrin high in the side, and Tarrin screamed in pain as the shadowy hand raked its insubstantial fingers against his ribs. Pain blazed along his side as he lurched away from that hand, and he staggered forward as the Wraith seemed to stop in confusion. Tarrin, however was not confused. It made perfect sense to him, as the words of Dolanna came back to him, spoken so long ago. You are a creature of magic , she had told him. You can only be harmed by fire, magic, acid, silver, other creatures of magic, and weapons of nature.

Other creatures of magic.

The Wraith's hand had not passed through his body, as it had done so with the man before, and it was what the Wraith had obviously expected to happen. It had struck him, made actual contact. The cold of the grave was still there, but it struck his skin , and while it had frozen the flesh and muscles around his ribs, it did not go deep enough to reach his vital internal organs. And Tarrin realized one other truth in that physical contact.

If it could touch him, then he could touch it .

His eyes lighting from within with their green fire, Tarrin snarled at the creature once more and spread his paws wide, claws out. He embraced the Cat in that instant, becoming one with his animal half, and he felt it shunt his human awareness off the side to let the Cat deal with the situation. He was going to need every advantage he could muster to kill the Wraith without getting his face frozen off. His united whole squared off against a now tentative Wraith, but the Wraith was compelled into its action by the magic that had created it. It was there to kill Tarrin Kael, and that was what it had to do. It rushed forward with its hands out, but Tarrin slithered to the side and raked his claws against its exposed flank. Icy pain blasted up his paw as the cold conducted through his claws, but he ignored it in his animalistic rage, doubling every second as he fought for his life. His claws ripped through the shadow that made up the Wraith's side, peeling some of it off to evaporate like mist exposed to the heat of the sun. Tarrin backed away, shaking his paw vigorously as it turned around, a grim smile on his face.