The Mysterious Old Man

Both Zelgius and I turned our heads to find a cloaked figure standing in the center of the room. How he had gotten in without either of us noticing was beyond me, I hadn't heard a single sound to indicate his presence before he had spoken. Judging from his deep raspy voice and the thick white beard that was peeking out of his hood, he was an older man. He was maybe early sixties or late fifties at the very least.

"You dare," spat Zelgius. He stepped away from me, his attention fully dedicated to the cloaked man. I wished I could feel relieved that I wasn't dead but the pain engulfing my body made it hard to process anything. Not to mention the harsh cold that was making every part of my body lock up, I couldn't let go of the knives in my hands even if I wanted.

The cloaked figure let loose an exasperated sigh and shook his head as if Zelgius's statement was the most annoying thing he had ever heard. He didn't even respond to the frozen priest, he simply started to slowly walk toward me. Zelgius's grip tightened on his sword, the air growing colder as he trembled with rage.

"This won't be like the last time we fought, you have no demon to save you this time," growled Zelgius. These words felt like syrup in my mind, I was having a hard time grasping what they meant. Demon? Had the old man used a literal demon against this freak the last time they fought or were they talking about something else? I was too lost in pain to think too hard about it at the moment.

"You underestimate my skill and my devotion to killing abominations like yourself," replied the old man wittily. The rasp of metal being drawn echoed through the air, the old man suddenly holding a massive longsword in his hands. Had that been hidden underneath his cloak this whole time? No, it was too long to have been hidden beneath his cloak, so where had it come from?

Zelgius charged forward with blinding speed, slashing his sword in a downward arc. The old man nimbly avoided the blade, dodging to his left. The old man then swung the massive longsword as if it was light as a feather, aiming straight for Zelgius's neck. A wall of ice shot up from the ground, hitting the longsword before it could reach its target and sending it flying into the air.

The longsword clattered to the ground a dozen feet away from the man but he didn't even glance at it. The cloaked man punched straight through the solid wall of ice as if it was made of paper. Zelgius was caught off guard, the fist connected dead center to his face and sent him flying into the wall behind him. The man retracted his arm through the wall of ice, causing it to crumble to pieces as he did. Miraculously, his arm looked to be completely fine.

How was it possible for him to put so much force into his punch and not be injured in the slightest? If I had tried to do that, I would have broken nearly every single bone in my hand. Yet, the old man had done it all while acting as if it was normal. Nothing in this hellish place made any sense.

Chunks of stone cascaded down the wall as Zelgius pried himself off of it. The blue-skinned priest didn't seem to be injured except for a black liquid that was dribbling from his lips, maybe his body's equivalent of blood. His heartless eyes seemed to be overflowing with rage now, I had never seen someone so angry before. The attack seemed to barely even phase him, would the old man be able to beat this freak?

"Already losing your cool? Haha, I apologize for such a horrible pun at a time like this but I couldn't help myself," chuckled the man. Yup, I was definitely going to die in this place if this old geezer was supposed to be my savior.

"Subzero Stream," shouted Zelgius as he thrust his hands toward the old man. Freezing wind exploded from his palms, creating a white beam of unbelievably cold air. The beam raced toward the old man, eager to turn him into a popsicle.

"Blazing Wall of Eruption," responded the old man. Unlike Zelgius, he didn't raise his hands. The beam continued on its path toward the old man without any disturbance, leading me to believe that the old man was doomed.

Suddenly, the ground beneath me began to get hot. The bricks between the old man and the icy priest began to glow red with heat. It progressively got hotter and hotter at a rapid rate, snow began to melt all around the room. Right before the freezing beam of wind got to the old man the ground exploded, with fire and unbearable heat pouring out of the fissure.

The beam of subzero air was completely engulfed in the flames, effectively halting the attack. Zelgius was also caught in the blast of fire and heat, screaming in agony as he quite literally melted in some places. The icy priest dropped his sword and used his arms to try and shield him as he backpedaled away from the flames. He backed straight into the wall he had just pried himself out of, falling to the ground curling defensively into a ball.

Was a little bit of fire all it took to beat that monster? He had effortlessly fought me, even toyed with me earlier, but a little bit of fire left him curled up in a ball? The fight had lasted only a few minutes, was this old man that much stronger than Zelgius, the monster who put me at death's door? Then again, the old man and Zelgius had implied at least one previous fight between the two, so maybe the old man knew the ice priest's weaknesses.

"You certainly haven't had a good welcome to this world, now have you?" said a voice to my right. The old man stood there, towering over my mangled body with a look of slight sympathy. I attempted to reply but the only noise that came out was the gurgle of blood in my throat. I felt extremely cold despite the blistering heat that was still raging from the fissure in the ground. Was this it, was I about to die?

"Don't worry kid, I'll get you out of here alive. Mark my words," swore the old man. He quickly crouched down and gingerly picked me up as if I weighed no more than a feather. Yet another surprise that this old man had hidden underneath the surface. The old man swiftly began to carry me out of the room, paying no attention to Zelgius.

I could hardly keep my eyes open at this point and I was totally numb from almost all feelings. Despite the old man's assurance, I couldn't help but be afraid. Before today I hadn't even gone to the emergency room but now the muscles in my arms had literally ripped themselves apart and I had an ice spear embedded in my shoulder.

We were now outside the temple somehow, I couldn't remember the path we had taken to get here. My entire field of vision was greeted by whiteness, a ferocious blizzard blocking my vision from extending beyond a few feet. The old man continued running despite the lack of visibility, weaving in and out of jagged rocks that jutted from the ground. The way he was navigating them stuck out, he was adjusting his direction long before the rocks came into view.

Was he able to he through the snow somehow? Or maybe he knew the path well, well enough to run it blind? That sounded almost as impossible as him being able to see through the blizzard. Then again, if I would compare it to everything else that had happened to me today, it would probably be the most believable thing out of all of them.

My vision flickered a little more and suddenly we were racing down what looked like the side mountain. The blizzard had cleared up a little as well, I could now see pine trees as well as a valley that lay further ahead of us.

"I hate to admit it but you're not looking too good at the moment, your soul is starting to slip away," mumbled the old man, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you but it's the only way to keep you alive."

The old man's hand appeared in front of my face, a blue light emanating from it. A glowing blue mist burst from the palm of the old man's hand, engulfing my face in a weird but comforting sensation. A wave of exhaustion swept over me and my vision immediately faded to black.

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My eyes wearily fluttered open, greeted by a wooden ceiling. I blinked a few times, confused about where I was at. A quick look around revealed that I was in a small but cozy room, the walls made of logs. The room was mostly barren, with only the bed I was laying in and a nightstand decorating the room. There was a small window on the other side of the room that showed a blizzard was raging outside. Was it the same blizzard that the old man had carried me through or was it a different one? How long had I been asleep?

I threw the covers off and swung my feet to touch the floor. I paused and began to examine myself. Firstly, I was no longer wearing my leather jacket, jeans, shoes, or shirt. I was wearing a silky cream-colored robe that was quite comfortable. A quick peek revealed that the robe was the only thing I was wearing, an embarrassing realization. My clothes had probably been covered in frozen blood and snow so I guess it was logical not to keep me on them.

Wait, what about my injuries? My arms now felt absolutely fine, as if they hadn't been completely demolished by using the knives. I yanked the robe off of my shoulder and was astounded by what I found. There was nothing there, no bandage, no scar, not even any discoloration of the skin. Confusion swirled through my head, how was it physically possible to be stabbed in the shoulder but not even have a scar?

*Knock Knock*

A quiet rapping on the door sound right before the door opened to reveal the old man. He dragged a wooden chair into the room with him and quickly sat down in it without saying a word. He no longer wore his cloak which now meant I could get a far better look at him. He had short white hair, and a puffy white beard, and stood an inch or two taller than me. His face was very intimidating, similar to that of a weathered war veteran. In surprise contradiction to his face though were his eyes, they exuded such warmth and sympathy that I wasn't sure if they could actually belong to the scowling old man in front of me.

"It's good that you're finally awake. I was starting to get worried I had done the healing ritual wrong," chuckled the man nervously. Healing ritual? Was it the reason I had made such a miraculous recovery all while not leaving a single scar?

"Three days is a long time to be out for but it looks like my worries have been for nothing," he said. Three days. That's how long I had been out for then. It certainly didn't feel like it had been three days but I doubt the old man would lie to me. He did save me after all.

"How did you save me?" I blurted out rudely. "I mean, don't get me wrong, but I had a spear made of ice impaling my shoulder. Not to mention my arms were completely destroyed."

The old man closed his eyes and a wry smile spread across his face. He opened his eyes and gestured for me to sit down on the bed. I quickly did as he wanted, eager for my questions to be answered.

"I know you have a million questions, including questions about your seemingly impossible recovery. I will try my best to cover all of them in my brief explanation," said the man. That sounded about right but I wasn't sure how he could possibly explain everything in a brief manner. Where would he even start?

"First of all, I should tell you my name. I am Norris Kendrick, a former battlemage and currently the Keeper of the Temple of Ice," explained the old man. His eyes glittered with mischief, seeming almost giddy to deliver the next line.

"Welcome to the world of Evovian, where the impossible is now reality."