The Temptation of Mirax

Mirax stood on the side of the mountain next to the King's servant, looking at a castle nestled high upon the cliff. There seemed no way up, no path that lead to the mysterious mountain, half shrouded in clouds.



Mirax' hands were trembling as he considered the goal ahead of him. Wizardry had not come naturally, as it had to some of the others. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that if he didn't, everything he loved would be lost to him. He alone had so much to lose. None of the other pupil, indeed none of the other wizards had as much to lose as he did. An image flew in front of his eyes, an image of golden hair and sapphire eyes....



The wind around him began to stir wildly, and he felt it pull at his life force, his emotions fueling his power. Of sheer, raw power, he was among the top in the kingdom. But instead of that giving him status, it made him a liability, for he could not control his emotions as a wizard must. Magic is fueled by emotion, and shaped by will. A wizard of more control could accomplish ten times as much as Mirax ever could, but with a fraction of the effort, and it was all due to focus. Sure, Mirax was powerful, but without control, his power could kill not only himself, but those around him, perhaps even those he loved most.



He had grown up in the palace of the King, his potential obvious even from childhood. Most could not shape the magic of the world, but he had always felt it's ebbs and flows. He and the daughter of the King's Chef had become friends, of a sort, as she lived in the palace with her father and he studied under the Court Wizard.



He had grown these last 18 years, learning much magic, but the more he learned, the more dangerous he was to those around him. Before long, the only one who would stay in his presence for very long was the Chef's daughter, Lyra. She had always treated him kindly, being the only friend he could claim in his world. Oftentimes, he had cursed the 'gift' the gods had given him, granting him the ability to shape the world to his will, but lacking the control to make it useful.



But Lyra had made him happy. Until a stranger from a neighboring country had entered the castle, with less than good intentions on his mind. He had been a hired assassin, meant to take out the King and his line. It had been a well executed plan, and the assassin would have succeeded if it weren't for Lyra. She took the poisoned dart that was meant for the King. She was lying in her bed, thrashing from the nightmares until the poison took her life, slowly and as painfully as possible.



There was only one cure for this poison, and that was dragon's blood. Dragon's blood cured and restored any and all ailments, thought to be able to even bring a person's sanity back. But there were few dragons, most having been hunted to extinction over the last century. Within this to castle, a structure to which there is no safe path to enter, held a sword, one of the few blessed swords which could cut through a dragon's hide. It has been said that these swords, of which there were only ten, still had traces of dragon's blood. This castle, the only known resting place of one such sword, had been hidden away in the mountains, and it is said that in order to claim the treasure the lay inside, one must pass four tests. A test of determination, a test of strength, a test of will, and a test of hope. Those who could not pass the tests never returned. None had returned so far.



Unfortunately, none of the King's Knights, nor any of his Wizards, found it necessary to risk their lives for a lowly servant girl, but Mirax was not willing to let her go. He could not, would not allow her to leave him without giving everything he had to save her. If he failed, she died, and he would have no reason to live. Better to die the enchanted castle than live in a world where Lyra didn't exist.



Mirax approached the cliff, jagged edges and numerous rocks jutting out.



"Not many have ever made it up the wall." The King's servant said. "I will wait for you until sundown. Then I leave."



Mirax did not hear him. He was busy studying the wall. Closing his eyes, he muttered a spell, feeling the power of the god wash over him. When he opened his eyes, he could see more clearly a way up the mountain. It was difficult to manage, but as the spell did not do more than heighten his awareness, he was able to lock the spell in place and begin his ascent.



Mirax climbed the cliff, taking one rock at a time. He had never learned to fly, never wanted to. He refused to look down, but knew in his heart that with ever step he took, he was getting further and further from the ground, from safety. His legs became weak, his insides became liquid.



Halfway up the cliff, he knew he would never make it. He wasn't strong enough. If he had only learned to fly. If he had only learned how to conquer his fear of high places. He settled on a large rock, pressed against the cliff, still not looking down. Tears streamed down his face as the wind began to whip around wildly again, responding to his uncontrolled emotions.



Then, in the dark recesses of his mind, through the fog of fear that filled his thoughts, came a laugh as clear as a bell. He had heard that laugh many times, and it had brought joy to his soul with each and every one. He saw her, lying on the bed, and wasn't sure if he was Farseeing, as the masters did, or if it was his imagination, but seeing her in that bed, sweating, thrashing in agony as the nightmares tore at her, a wall closed on his heart. Mirax turned to the cliff once more, and redoubled his efforts.



He enacted a few small spells as he climbed, nothing too complicated, just enough to keep him from falling, or keep his foot from slipping, but it was enough. Soon, he had pulled half his body over the top of the cliff, and with a great rush of wind, conjured purposefully this time, he was able to make it onto the ground in front of the castle.



For a moment, he lay there, breathing and staring at the sky. It was already noon. He didn't have long.



Getting up, he brushed his tunic off, adjusted the packs that held his food and water, and the few supplies he had brought that may help him focus his magic. Looking at the castle, he could tell it had been majestic once, but no more. The gate had fallen, and was held propped against the side of the castle, no longer a barrier. Large, gaping holes were scattered throughout the great structure, and for a moment, Mirax wondered how the castle was still standing.



Ignoring this, he pressed forward. Carefully picking his way through the ruined building, Mirax began to wonder what would happen should the stories not be true. What if he could not find the sword? What if it had no dragon's blood? He was not the one to be doing this. This was a mission for one of the Knights, or a Court Wizard, not him. He could barely tie his dress robes, much less defeat the enchantments of an ancient castle that had stood on the side of a cliff for a millennium. Surely there was someone else.



Again, her laugh played through his head, lightning his soul as it had once done. The thought of her leaving him to this world, alone, felt as though he would lose the sun. He must keep going.



Everywhere he looked, he saw destruction. Rooms were ransacked. Anything cloth had rotted away long ago, as had most of the wood. Only bits of stone and metal, pieces of old statues, silverware, and other odds and ends lay rusted and covered in cobwebs. Another thought occurred to him. He did not know where the sword was, let alone what guarded it.



Ahead, Mirax heard something screech. He hid behind a wall, next to a rusted suit of armor that was missing it's head and arms. He pressed his face against the wall, catching his breath as he tried to steady his nerves. He had not expected there to be anything in this castle.



He peered out from behind the wall, and beheld a sight he thought he would never have: A dragon. It appeared to be stuck, it's leg crushed by a pillar. It was obviously a young dragon, a pup. It was no larger than he was, it's multicolored scales glistening in the light coming through the holes in the roof. It had obviously been stuck for a while, unable to move because of the pillar.



Hope flared in Mirax' heart. If he could get some of it's blood...



But no, it's scales had not broken. He could see the leg was merely stuck, not torn. The young dragon screeched again. Mirax knew he would not be able to kill the youngling, because he lacked the sword, but standing there, watching the young dragon, he began to feel pity for it. It had apparently hidden in this castle, trying to escape detection, to hide from the dragon slayers. It had not expected to die of starvation, unable to get it's leg out from under a stone pillar.



Mirax' emotions roared within him, causing the very castle to shake in response. He could easily leave this creature, find the sword and return, making sure the blood was fresh when he brought it to Lyra. But he would be killing one of the only dragons left.



He saw Lyra's face in an instance, her disapproving eyes giving him all the convincing he needed. Lyra loved all animals, great and small. She would not want Mirax to destroy one to sad her. If he did, she would resent the life he had given her. He could not do that to her. This dragon would live.



The dragon pup plopped on the ground, tired of it's struggle to free itself. Mirax walked from behind the wall, feeling as if he was about to make a mistake, but determined to do it anyway.



The dragon did not react when it saw Mirax coming towards it. It merely watched with interest, it's tail flopping on the ground. Mirax walked up to the pillar, placed his hands on it, and closed his eyes. He brought to mind all the emotion he held into check at all times, the emotion within him that was so strong, no matter how hard he tried to bottle it, it always seemed to seep through. He did not try to focus it this time, merely letting to flow through him and around the pillar. With a great shove, the pillar shattered, freeing the young dragon from it's grip.



In seconds, the dragon was on it's feet, it's arms spread, showing wings stretching from his hand to his side. Fast as a rabbit, it bolted for the sky, flying through a hole twice it's size.



Mirax watched as what was likely his only hope at fresh dragon's blood few through the hole, but surprisingly did not feel disappointed. Sure he had done as Lyra would have wanted, he continued through the castle.



Something inside told him he was going in the right direction, though he could not say what. He walked through a door, and the castle changed. In an instant, it was no longer the old, decrepit building he had been wandering through. Now, it was new. Ornate tapestries were on every wall in the room, a chandelier lit the chamber, which was full to the brim in treasures beyond his wildest dreams. Mirax eyes were wide as he saw shields, medallions, rings and jewels, all of which radiated magic to his senses. He passed by rings that would make the wearer breath underwater, an amulet that could make one unable to be killed by fire or ice. He moved through this room, finding enchantments on items that were worth more than anything the Court Wizard had. Not to mention that everything there was stacked upon piles of ancient gold coins, as rare as magic itself.



"You must choose." came a voice from beyond the walls. "You may have anything from within this room, if you only leave that which you seek."



He looked across the room, and saw door, and somehow knew what that his prize lay beyond it. He looked around the room once more, sensing each and every device, trying to find something in the room that would save his Lyra, but there was nothing. The items all helped the wearer, and none of them helped against poison. They were items for a selfish people. A people who thought nothing of others. But the sword he sought, that would be a boon to his people. If it had the dragon's blood on it, it could save his beloved. He could present it to the King, a sword fit for royalty. Mirax knew what he had to do. Deep in his heart, where the felt magic stir, he knew the offer to take whatever in this room he desired was one time only. Should he refuse, the objects within would be gone. But how can he place a value upon the life of the one person he loved most in this world.



Mirax moved towards the door, and upon grabbing it's handle, the room changed again into the desolate castle. And yet again, Mirax was not disappointed. Those items would have helped him be wealthy, but what lay behind this door could help him be joyful.



He pushed the door open and entered the room. It was a simple room, circular with an alter in the middle. Metal gleamed from the alter, and Mirax' heart sped as he approached it. He could see the hilt of the sword, and he knew he had found his prize.



But it was not to be. As Mirax came to the alter, he fell to his knees before it. The sword had rusted. It's blade was not just in pieces, but was dust. The hilt was tarnished and ruined. There would be no dragon's blood to be had upon this relic.



Tears began to spread down his face now, pouring from his soul as the despair ate at him. His one hope. The one prize he had forsook all others for. If he had only slain the dragon, and collected some of it's blood. If he had only taken the objects in the room, he may have been able to purchase an antidote. But he had ruined those chances, all for a sword.



Her laugher again ran through his mind, and it tore at his heart, ripping it into more pieces than he had thought possible. He would not be saving her. He would not hear that laughter again. Would not see that smile. By the time he made it back to the palace, she would be gone. He had wasted his time.



It was then that he began to remember her, to admit to himself the he loved her more than he loved himself. He would have gone to the end of the world for her, and had indeed come close. He closed his eyes, letting a stream of tears fall unhindered down his cheek. He would carry her love with him for the rest of his life. Perhaps, if he left now, he could make it to her side before she left him. One more kiss would do. Just one more.



Then, a screech came from the door behind him. He turned to see the young dragon standing behind him, and through the door in the room beyond, a much, much larger one stood over it's child. Stupid, Mirax thought. Of course the pup would have a parent. Fear gripped Mirax' heart once more as he realized he would not be making it back to the palace after all.



It did not matter anymore. Lyra was lost to him. Dying here or there, it did not matter. He would choose here.



The young dragon moved to him, limping on it's wounded leg. Mirax expected it to lunge, but it didn't. He waited for it to attack, prepared to let it end his suffering, but it moved around him and to the alter. It propped itself upon the alter, looking down upon the sword. It swept it's reptilian head to Mirax, a knowing look twinkling in it's eye.



"You have passed the first test, of determination." Came the booming voice again, this time from the elder dragon. "By climbing the enchanted cliff, able to withstand the fear it poured into your heart." A burst of flame shot from the young dragon's mouth, engulfing the sword. The dust that was once the blade began to swirl.



"You showed strength of character, by choosing to save my son, despite the castle's enchantment, urging you to kill him and make your quest an easy one." The elder dragon said, as another burst of flame, this time blue, shot from the young dragon's mouth again. The hilt of the sword began to glow, repairing itself.



"You withstood the Room of Temptation, proving your power of will, able to focus upon the task at hand and lean neither to the right, nor the left." The elder dragon said, his voice booming through Mirax' chest. A green flame erupted from the young dragon's mouth, and the swirling dust began to coalesce into a blade. The blade made itself whole again, attached to the hilt, and the sword stay hovering in the air.



"And last, you passed the Test of Hope, that when all else was lost, you still held on to your love." The elder dragon said. The sword began to move through the air, floating towards the elder dragon. The dragon grabbed it in it's massive, four fingered hand. It placed the blade of the sword in it's other hand, and in one quick motion, sliced through the powerful scales, drawing blood. "This sword will hold the blood for a time." The dragon said. "Your emotion makes you strong, young one. Do not hid behind it."



The dragon held the sword for Mirax to take. Gripping the sword in one hand, Mirax took it from the Dragon, surprised by it's weight. Hope began to soar within him again.



"There is but one request." The elder dragon said. Mirax looked up, willing to give anything to the one who had brought his hope back alive. "Tell no one we are here."



And with that, the Elder dragon and his pup stretched their powerful wings and shot through the hole in the roof, leaving Mirax alone in the castle. He looked down to the sword in his hand, still glistening with the blue blood of the dragon.



Mirax quickly made his way to the front of the castle, no longer hindered by the enchantments that had played on his fears. He got to the cliff's edge, looking down without fear. He felt a change within himself. He had conquered where others had not. Lyra would not die, as long as he got that sword to the castle in time. Looking down the cliff's side, he felt a smile come to his face. His emotion made him strong. With a jolt of joy, he leaped from the edge, willing the wind around him to slow his decent.



He landed, if not with grace, at least safely, in front of the King's servant, who was already packing up the horses to make the ride back to the castle.



"Ah, you've returned. And with the sword, I see." The servant said.



"Now is not the time for talk." Mirax said, mounting his horse. "Now is the time to ride. I have a young woman to save, and a question to ask her once I do."





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