The Magical Triumvirate

     Arlo turned, heart pounding. “Maybe we can’t outrun them.”

     Kit stopped abruptly, growled and began pawing the ground. He was flaring his nostrils. Smoke curled from his mouth. Arlo had only just managed to stop when the two Gallions leapt from the cave entrance, jaws open wide, ready to attack.

     Instinct took over, the gallion’s attention was fixed on Kit. They weren’t looking at Arlo at all. Arlo raised his paw and his Grandad’s ring blazed, brighter than ever before.

     In his mind, he pictured an impenetrable shield just like the spell book his Grandma Esme had said too. A burst of golden light shot from the ring and enveloped Arlo and Kit. A swirling white and grey vortex had appeared right in the path of the attackers. The Gallions bounced off the shield and froze. Their cries caught in their throats as stone crept over their scales, hardening in place. In seconds, they were statues, trapped, eyes wide with shock.

     Arlo gasped. “Whoa, did I…?”

     The ground trembled again. The Techo stalked from the trees, eyes glowing red, claws crackling with dark energy. He snarled, hurling a blast of energy straight at Arlo.

     Kit leapt in front of him. The magic struck the Petpet but instead of harming him, it rebounded, shattering into harmless sparks. The protection spells Arlo had cast earlier shimmered around Kit like a new set of armour.

     Arlo’s fear turned to fury. He opened his book with one paw and whispered a spell that had been marked in silver ink. The pages fluttered, and the air around him thickened with power. He focused on the ring and visualized what he wanted to happen. Light burst from the ring again only this time it was green and gold. It slammed into the Techo’s chest and sent him skidding backwards across the rocks. He hissed and vanished into the shadows, retreating into the caves. Arlo stood shaking, the ring still glowing faintly.

     “Arlo”, breathed a voice.

     He spun. There, stepping out from the trees, was his Grandma Esme. Her robes were singed, soot streaked her cheeks, but her eyes burned bright.

     “Grandma,” Arlo gasped, releasing a breath that he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

     Arlo ran to her, but she held him back gently.

     “There’s no time for hugs my boy. I have to tell you something, something I should have years ago.”

     He stared at her, still trembling, wondering what on Earth she was going to say.

     “I was once part of the Magicians' Guild. We were scholars and spell-casters. But when we criticized King Hagan, we were cast out.”

     “That ring? It was your grandfathers, it isn’t any only ring or trinket. It amplifies your natural gifts but is also a ring specializing in protection magic. One of only a handful that we had created. Arlo, you were born to wield magic.”

     He looked down at the ring. “There are three sorcerers in there, they’re planning something huge. They’re hatching gallions, stealing books, they are searching for something.”

     Esme’s expression hardened. “That will be the other rings. If they collect them all, they will have unimaginable power.”

     Esme lifted her hand and revealed a glowing yellow ring on her finger.

     “I didn’t flee our home, I went to recover this, the ring of light. I have a few surprises in store for them. We can defeat them, together, and take back what has been stolen Arlo. I’m fed up with being pushed around”, Esme’s face was as hard as Gallion scales.

     They both turned toward the cave, resolve burning in all three of them, and proceeded towards the cave. The deeper they ventured, the hotter the air became. A wave of heat rolled out from the walls causing all three to begin to sweat. The tunnels glowed red from the cracks in the stone, casting shadows that danced like flames.

     “They will try to strengthen their Gallions, I’ll use the ring of light to break their control on the Gallions, while you distract them”, Esme whispered as they walked.

     They had arrived at the end of the tunnel when they saw him. The Bori stood atop a molten platform, fire swirling around his claws. His armour shimmered with enchantments, his gaze locked on the intruders.

     “You!” he said with a sneer. “You are messing with magic you cannot possibly defeat!”

     “Did you see what I did to your friend? I’d be careful if I was you,” Arlo replied coolly.

     The Bori raised both paws. “Take this for meddling.”

     Flames erupted, roaring across the chamber.

     Arlo threw up his hands, the ring glowed and produced a wall of intense light, the heat was overwhelming, but the shield held. Beside the Bori, flanking him on either side, waited a gaggle of Gallions. Poised and prepared to pounce. Esme rose from behind her grandson, hands held aloft. At once her eyes and the ring glowed together, locked in magic synchronicity. The ring of light began to pulse and wave after wave washed over the Gallions.

     Snarls and grimaces gave way to looks of fear and puzzlement. The Gallions were released from the controlling spells of the three sorcerers. This realization and the lapping flames sent the newly released Gallions scurrying up the tunnel. Abandoning their former masters. The Bori’s eyes widened with shock.

     “Now!” Esme shouted. “We strike back!”

     Arlo slammed his paw into the ground, reaching for the spell deep in the book. He spoke the words, and the stones beneath him cracked. Water burst upward from underground springs and light pools, hissing and steaming.

     He shaped it with his hands, drawing it into a wave and sent it directly to the Bori. The wave crashed into the Bori, dousing the flames, sending him skidding across the slick stone.

     Esme stepped forward, her hands glowing with frost-blue light.

     “And do you know what Boris really fear?” she said, smiling menacingly.

     Before he could rise, she flicked her wrists. The water around him and began to freeze. The ice had the instance effect of locking the fire mage in a prison of glittering frost. His eyes widened with fury before the frost sealed him still.

     “Being trapped in ice forever,” she added.

     Arlo chuckled, even though he was shocked at his grandma’s expression of power.

     “That was just one of them. We still have two more to defeat, don’t we?” Esme said.

     The heroic trio scanned the cave system, looking for the other two sorcerers. In the distance, they could see the pile of books and gems by an enormous table, but they couldn’t see anyone else. Together, they decided to move down one of the smaller, hidden tunnels near the table. They were wary of a trap and didn’t want to touch anything until they had bested their foes.

     The tunnel grew narrower and hotter, Arlo and Esme pressed on, Kit was close behind, his scales glowing faintly with inner fire. The rings on Arlo and Esme’s paws pulsed with magic, as if they were reacting to what lay ahead.

     The tunnel ended abruptly and opened into a chamber. Arlo was shocked, books were piled high in obsidian alcoves. How long have these sorcerers been hoarding this knowledge? Magic scrolls floated mid-air, radiating energy. Crates of gems and enchanted items shimmered in the torchlight. At the centre of it all, stood the Vandagyre and the wounded Techo, each now wearing a ring of their own.

     “The items outside must be recent acquisitions, here is where the bulk of their knowledge is kept,” Esme whispered.

     The Vandagyre turned, her wings flicking open, eyes alight with luminous magic. “You meddling fools are doomed.”

     The Techo grinned. “You weaklings who read spells from books, are no match for us.”

     With a gesture, twin blasts of opposing magic erupted one of searing white light, the other an inky void. Arlo leapt back, throwing up a shield. Kit countered with a stream of fire, forcing the Vandagyre into the air. Esme stomped the ground and raised jagged spines of rock to block the Techo’s advance. The battle cracked through the cavern.

     Magic lit the shadows fire against light, shields against shadow. Kit snarled and spun, spitting flames that caught the Vandagyre’s feathers. Arlo swept water in crashing waves, freezing it mid-air and launching shards like arrows. Esme summoned stone fists from the floor to hammer their enemies. The Vandagyre’s flight faltered as a blast of frozen mist from Arlo caught her wings. She crashed, shrieking, into the far wall. The Techo screamed as a block of stone slammed into him, he was then thrown off balance by Kit’s fire and Arlo’s freezing strike. With a final coordinated attack, the trio launched a wave of fire, ice, and stone. The two enemies collapsed, defeated and disarmed.

     Esme exhaled slowly. A noise behind them made all three turn. The egg-pits were hatching. All at once, the shells fell to the cave floors. Hundreds of Gallions blinked their newborn eyes and began to stir.

     “Quickly,” Esme muttered. She sprinted to the pile of stolen books, flipping through them until she found the one she needed. Her fingers traced glowing glyphs in the air. They began to circle and form a ring. A pulse of violet light rippled out. The Gallions froze. Then, one by one, they turned to face Kit and bowed their heads.

     Kit growled uneasily. Esme turned to the vanquished foes. Another spell followed silvery mist crept towards them. Upon contact the Vandagyre and Techo became dazed, and a look of bafflement came over their faces. Esme turned and sent the wisps towards the Bori. The mist deftly sank through the ice, and he adopted a vacant gaze.

     “Now,” she said, turning to her grandson, her voice cold and sharp. “This is all ours now”. She waved her arms to indicate the magical items.

     Arlo’s breath came quickly. He looked around the room and finally rested his gaze on Esme. She was no longer just his grandmother; she was a mage.

     “With this knowledge, we could change Brightvale.”

     She nodded. “We could lead. Not with gold and taxes, but with strength. With magic. With purpose.”

     Arlo hesitated only a second.

     “Then we need to be clever about it,” he said. “We use the three of them, put spells of control over them and use them as proxies. We can spread lies, stoke fear, turn Brightvale against the King. Let the people cry out for new rulers.”

     Esme raised an eyebrow. “You’re thinking like a leader already.”

     He looked at Kit, who tilted his head, flames flickering in approval.

     “A Triumvirate,” Arlo said. “You, me, and Kit.”

     Esme smiled, not the warm, grandmotherly kind, but the kind a storm might wear before it strikes.

     “Brightvale will be ours soon.” She cackled.

     The End.