Chapter 52: This is playing!
Kaedros tumbled through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into the ground with a dull crack that split the stone beneath his skull. He groaned, muscles seizing with agony, ribs pulsing with a raw, red pain.
"Did I just crack my head open...?" he rasped, tasting blood on his tongue. His fingers came away wet when he touched his scalp.
A deep, reverberating voice like metal echoing down a pipe burst out in glee. "Oh! You’re good! I thought I crushed your ribs, but you blocked most of it somehow! I’ve not seen wizards cast as fast as you!"
"Mage..." Kaedros mumbled, staggering to his feet. His vision spun like a storm and he had to squeeze his eyes shut until the world settled again. "That word, wizard it’s old. I read it in a forgotten book."
"Kael!" Taria reached his side, fussing over him, hands moving over his arms and sides in search of wounds. His body was already healing, Dragon regeneration quietly working under the guise of human magic.
"You alright?" she asked, concern tightening her voice.
Rauk, however, wasn’t looking at Kaedros. His pale eyes were fixed on what stood ahead of them.
The Keeper had changed.
He now towered above them, twice the height of a grown man. His eyes burned red-hot, and his back, up to the crown of his head, was lined with jagged, iron-black spikes.
"’Long ago?’ I don’t know anything about that. Where I’m from, Magea like you are just called wizards." The Keeper took a slow step forward, molten light flaring inside his chest. He pointed a clawed finger at him.
"Why don’t you use your full power? You’ve hidden it under a shell. An illusion. You’ve shackled yourself, and left only a fraction behind."
He laughed again. "Not that it would’ve helped."