The Untold Tales of Agragag and Smook
“Hurry up, Smook!” The dark haired 14 year-old called over his shoulder, laughing. “You’ll never beat me from back there.”
Smook raked sweat-soaked blonde curls out of his eyes as he ran faster, slowly catching up. “Keep gloating, Agragag,” he panted, “but we’ll see who’s laughing when you’re eating my dust.”
The boys reached the door to the weapon shop at the same time, laughing and catching their breath. “And just where ‘ave you boys been?” The bellow from inside caused them to jump. A shadow loomed over them as the weaponsmith stood in the doorway. “Ye may have gotten a free ticket out of here wi’ tha’ shady mage fella, but ye still have one more day of real work wi’ me! Now git yerselves inside and finish up yer chores.”
“Yes, Master Jerald,” the two muttered, scurrying inside and getting to work. Two years ago, when it was clear no one was going to take in the boys and give them a decent job, Jerald decided to take them under his wing as apprentices. Orphans both – Smook was found as an infant and Agragag’s parents died when he was too young to remember them – neither were welcomed much by the citizens of the town and struck up a friendship early on. Only the tough Jerald treated them with any kindness; if making them work hard every day was considered kindness.
Today, though, nothing could dampen their good moods, not even the mundane chores or hard work at the forge – not after two days ago. That day marked the change of their lives as they knew it.
A traveling mage calling himself Aditya came through their small, farming town two days ago, as he had been going through every town in these parts. “Looking for fresh talent” he had explained to the elders. Talent he had found in the weapon smith’s two apprentices, and found in plenty. Like most of the boys of the town, and even a few of the girls, Agragag and Smook eagerly jumped at the opportunity to interview with the mage in hopes of him picking one of them to take away to train. To their surprise and delight, he chose both. They were told they had two days to prepare for departure.
Weaponsmith Jerald, however, was not letting that fact excuse them of working just as hard – or harder – their last days in town. It was just as well in their opinions; they still had a few last minute details to hammer out on their final projects.
~~~
That night, too wired to sleep before their departure the next morning, the two boys met to exchange parting gifts. Even though they knew they were traveling together, they still wanted to do something special for their friend for good luck in their journeys ahead.
The latest project they had been given was making their own weapons. They had discovered early on that their work was better when splitting one weapon between the two of them. Agragag was always better at the intricate details required in the hilts, while Smook’s precision and focus made for the sharpest, strongest blades. As the friends sat under their favorite tree, they pulled out their last masterpieces.
“It’s simple enough,” whispered Smook, talking quietly to avoid waking anyone, “but it’s the sharpest I’ve made yet. And it’ll stand up to anything without breaking.” He handed his bundle to Agragag and watched with a touch of pride as the dark haired boy unwrapped a blade of solid, jet black onyx.
“Wow,” Agragag breathed, running a thumb lightly over the edge, easily drawing blood. “It’s amazing. Here’s yours.” He handed his bundle to the blonde, who immediately opened it and took out an elaborate hilt made of ruby. “I engraved your symbol into it too,” Agragag said with a smile, pointing to the “$” shape carved into the hilt.
“Thanks.” They grinned at each other, before turning back to examine their new gifts. “Y’know,” said Agragag after a while, “we really should get you a blade for that worthless hilt.”
Smook chuckled. “And that blade won’t do you much good without something to hold it. C’mon, the weapon shop should be unlocked, and no one will be around.”
They made their way quietly to the shop and let themselves in. Smook perused the blades, mostly his creations, and picked out a plain steel one that was practical without being flashy. When he found Agragag, his friend was fitting a wooden hilt onto the blade with a wire. At his quizzical look, Agragag explained with a smile, “I wouldn’t want anyone to pay attention to the hilt with a blade like this. Besides, this does the job just fine.”
They went back outside and stood there, just looking at the sleeping town.
“Think we’ll ever see it again?” asked Agragag softly.
Smook shrugged. “Who cares? No one cares we’re going anyway. We’re just the worthless orphans around here, remember?” His voice was bitter. “Besides, we have a chance for greatness now! Think of the power we’ll get. We’ll become great mages the like of which the world has never seen. They’ll sing songs of us for centuries to come. You just wait, Ag, we’ll be famous. And these people will wish they’d treated us better.”
Agragag glanced at his friend alarmed, but couldn’t read his face in the shadows. Smook looked toward him suddenly, smiling brightly. Agragag smiled back slowly, telling himself the harshness of the words were just his imagination or caused by his friend’s nerves. His friend, and sometime rival, was just anxious about leaving too. “We better get some sleep. Master Aditya would be less than pleased to have his newest pupils late for our first journey.”
They bid each other a good night and parted to their respective homes. Neither slept much that night, both thinking of the morning and what their futures might hold.
*~*~*~*
He watched from the shadows of the corner he occupied. Watched the priestesses that flitted around him, giggling and making doe eyes. Watched as one of them reached out to run her fingers through his long, black hair. He snarled in disgust, unconsciously moving his hand to touch his own blonde curls. Some friend, he thought bitterly to himself. How can I ever be good enough with him around? Smook sighed and closed his eyes. He and Agragag at been studying here at the towers Emyn Beraid with the other mage and priest trainees for the past six years, and everyone made sure to remind him as often as possible that he was almost as good as his dear friend Agragag.
His magic was almost as strong. His hair almost as touchable. His looks almost as handsome. Everything – everything! – almost up to the standards set by his so-much-better pal. How could he show the world his greatness if he couldn’t be better than him?
He looked back up to find himself staring into blue eyes – eyes his were almost as blue as. “Hey, bud, you planning on joining us, or skulking in shadows the entire dance?” Agragag smiled brightly at his friend. “I know there are quite a few lovely ladies wanting to meet you.” He winked.
Yeah, I bet. More of your castoffs no doubt, Smook thought, but smiled widely, not revealing his thoughts. “Sorry, lost in thought, I suppose.”
“That’s the problem with you, Smook, you think way too much. Have some fun for a change!” Agragag clapped him on the shoulder and led him to the cluster of giggling priestess trainees. Smook only half paid attention as he was introduced to what seemed like a hundred silly girls, only being jarred back to reality as one said girl draped herself over him.
She was asking him something that he didn’t catch as he tried in a panic to remember her name. That’s right! “Excuse me, Lady Shira, perhaps another night.” He disentangled her fingers from his hair, backing away from her pouting face, and fled to the safety of his rooms.
~~~
Agragag had been watching his friend brooding in a dark corner throughout the course of the night and finally thought to put an end to it. One of the priestess trainees had been asking about Smook, and Agragag knew from personal experience that she was more than capable of getting his friend to stop his brooding, at least tonight. Grinning to himself at the thought, he went over, dragged his old friend into the fray of things, and introduced him around before leaving him in the expert hands of Shira.
Just when it looked like his plan may have succeeded, however, Smook took off. The dark haired 20 year-old sighed. He was worried about his friend lately, and didn’t know what he could do to help. No use ruining a good night. I’ll figure something out tomorrow. With one last glance toward the exit and the retreating Smook, Agragag turned back to the dance to have as much fun as possible in the remaining hours before the dance ended.
~~~
“…and I just don’t know what to do.” Agragag looked up at the priest forlornly. For the past few hours he had been sitting in the small, little used chapel talking about his old friend.
The priest smiled at him and leaned over to pat his arm encouragingly. Father Mathieu was a middle-aged, kindly priest who was given this run-down chapel to care for because none of the high priest knew quite what to do with him. Not very respected among his peers, only a few, such as Agragag, bothered with him. He was a good man, but his powers were seen as a joke among the magic community – no spell he ever cast ever worked quite the way he wanted it to. When they finally achieved what he set out for them to – and they always did, eventually – it was always with such drastic results that the high priests and magi decided he was no longer allowed to use his magic.
This didn’t stop him from giving priestly advice to those few who asked it of him, as Agragag was now. “He is not the same young man you were friends with before, is he, son?”
Agragag sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “No, not at all. I didn’t think he would change so much. I mean, we always had a bit of a rivalry going when we were younger – what boys don’t? – but it seems that now all he wants to do is best me. It’s as if we’ve grown too far apart to even be friends anymore.”
Mathieu nodded in agreement. “I have seen that boy around these towers – no, not here, he never comes in here – but in the libraries and labs. His obsession for power is unhealthy in a young man of your age. Twenty is the time to have fun, not lock yourself in a dark room to study.” He sat next to Agragag and looked at him seriously. “And you need to be careful around him. His desire to best you is apparent to everyone. I fear it is becoming a dangerous one. There’s no telling how far he may go to prove his worth, even if just to himself.”
Agragag laughed a little shakily. “Don’t be ridiculous, Father Mathieu, Smook wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” But his eyes betrayed his uncertainty.
The priest decided not to mention it, however, simply patting him on the arm and saying, “Just be careful, my child.”
~~~
It wasn’t long after that Agragag was walking through one of the towers and a figure blocked his path. Looking up, he saw Smook, an odd look in the other boy’s eyes. “Smook? What’s going on? Are you alri–?”
“I challenge you.” Smook’s soft voice cut in.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You heard me. I. Challenge. You. Right now. One on one. We’ll see who’s the better man once and for all.”
“Smook, you don’t mean this. C’mon, man, we’re friends!”
“Don’t tell me what I think or want! I’m challenging you, friend. Do you concede?” Smook sneered at him, hands crackling with energy and eyes flashing a dangerous red.
“No,” Agragag said sadly. He knew it was eventually going to come to this; he had just hoped it would be much farther into the future. Far enough, he had hoped, to give him time to prevent it. “But not here. There are too many people around.”
Smook looked ready to argue, but nodded curtly instead. “Choose your place, then.”
Agragag looked pleadingly at him one last time, but Smook was not backing down. With a heavy heart, he led them outside into the forest, far away from any innocent bystanders.
~~~
Father Mathieu had taken to watching the two boys in his Seeing Pool every so often since the talk he and Agragag had. He knew a standoff would happen soon, and he wanted to be prepared for it.
As he looked this time into the Pool, his saw his fears were finally realized. Smook had challenged Agragag, and now they were both heading out of the Towers’ grounds. Mathieu sat down and watched the events unfold intently, knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent them, but hoping he could prevent disaster if it were to come to it.
~~~
Finally, Agragag came to the clearing he had in mind, and turned towards Smook to let him know it was the place. No sooner did he face him, then a bolt of magical energy shot out at him. Agragag barely dodged out of the way on time.
After that, there was no time to think. Magic was being thrown from every direction. At one point they drew weapons, the irony of them squaring off with their own gifts was not lost on either of them.
Smook sent a ball of flame towards Agragag, too big to dodge. Old spells he had cast on himself and his clothing long ago kept him relatively unscathed but for a few singed hairs and corners of his robe. The wooden hilt he had attached his blade to, however, was reduced to ash in his hand. When he went to pick the blade up, it was still cool to the touch.
As he straightened, he saw Smook running at him, dagger brandished. Agragag quickly brought his blade up and blocked. The two blades met and locked as each man tried to unarm the other and find an opening. The onyx bit into Agragag’s palm, but he held. Suddenly, the blade Smook had fitted onto his hilt came out of its weak grip and went flying. Without thinking, Agragag followed through with his opening and stabbed at his opponent, striking true with a mortal wound to the gut.
~~~
Smook stumbled back, looking down at the blade – his blade – in his stomach. He looked up at the shocked expression on his killer’s face and smiled. “This is how I always imaged it.” He laughed. “Don’t worry, dear Ag, I knew this would happen. I planned on it.”
He spoke a word and the ruby hilt still in his hand started to hum with power. Smook stumbled toward Agragag. “Don’t bother trying to move,” he said to the panicked expression on the dark-haired man’s face, “I spelled this hilt for the sole purpose of stopping you. It’s too powerful for even you to resist.”
Smook made it to Agragag, and draped the arm holding the hilt over his shoulder to keep himself upright as he slowly bled to death. With his other hand he pulled the blade out of him and held it between them. “Did you really think I would let you live on without me?” Agragag’s eyes widened as Smook plunged the blade into his chest.
As Agragag’s life bled out around the blade, Smook examined his work. “It was a good blade. And I see you’ve been keeping up on it. I sense the spells in it, making it stronger. It makes it easier. An item with so much of a man’s power in it already begins to yearn for more.” Smook began tracing symbols onto the blade with blood. “We’ll give it that power it seeks, and plenty of it.”
He began to chant a powerful binding spell as Agragag looked on helplessly.
With this
spell I bind thee
With these
words I seal thee
Life for
life, power for power
Forever
will you hold thee
~~~
Agragag’s body crumbled to the ground, Smook falling next to him. His body was draining of life faster than it should have been. He felt his energy being sapped out, but instead of spilling out of him, it concentrated itself around the blade. As Smook finished his chanting, the energy poured out of him into the blade itself. His very life was being leeched by the onyx blade.
The magic in the hilt still held him. He looked at Smook, and managed to choke out one word.
“Why?”
~~~
“I was never good enough for you!” Smook whispered harshly. “Nothing I ever did was good enough. I tried for years to be, but no. Then I finally figured it out.” His laugh was a bit hysterical, and Agragag could only watch, horrified, unable to move with the hilt’s power still active. “I finally figured you out.”
Smook dragged himself closer as he spoke, his eyes a manic red. He leaned in next to Agragag’s ear as if imparting the greatest secret. “No one would ever be good enough for you.” Smook leaned back, a wild grin on his face. “And then, then I understood! Oh, yes, I finally understood! The only way to be good enough for you,” he reached over and pulled the dagger from Agragag’s chest, “was to be you!”
The blonde jammed the blade into the hilt and sealed them together with a word of power then threw the now-whole dagger as far as his weakened and dying body could. He collapsed half on top of Agragag, who was still unable to move, though now because of lack of strength instead of the hilt.
“You’d be…proud,” Smook’s voice was growing softer as he struggled to hold onto life. “It took me…months to research and…come up with these…spells. Just for you. Always for you.” He coughed violently, blood on his lips. “Don’t worry, Agragag, you won’t die. Never…die. As long as that…blade is whole, so will you be. I’ve done what…no one else could. I cheated death.” His voice was barely audible, and he leaned in close to Agragag to be better heard. “You will…never have to…fear dying. And now…neither will…I.”
With the last of his strength, Smook breathed the words of the binding spell yet again, this time triggered to himself and Agragag. He leaned forward and closed the distance between them, sealing the spell with a kiss as he sent the last of his life energy into Agragag.
~~~
Agragag’s eyes widened as Smook’s lips touched his, and he felt the same surge of energy he had before, only this time the energy was flowing into him and not out. Smook’s lifeless body collapsed on him. Agragag felt glee that was not his own before he too slipped into darkness.
~~~
Mathieu ran out of the chapel and his Seeing Pool where he was watching the showdown. His intended destination was towards where Smook threw the dagger. I knew he was dangerous, I just never guessed… The priest was kicking himself for not seeing the signs earlier. If only he had, could he have prevented this?
After frantically searching the area for several minutes, he finally found it. Holding the dagger in his hand, Mathieu could practically feel the magic humming inside of it. Think, old boy, think! Smook said only by breaking the blade could Agragag’s body have rest. He examined the dagger, both with physical and magical eye, and did not like what he saw. With the power of the hilt also feeding the dagger, the blade would be all but impossible to destroy. I need a key…A ha!
His fingers brushed against a crystal that was loosely in place where the blade and hilt met. Working as swiftly as he could, with one eye out for the trouble, he pried the crystal out of the dagger, thanking the gods that it was just show and easily removed. Now for the spell to set this correctly…oh, please, let it work…for once, let at least this one spell work…
He held the crystal between his hands and closed his eyes, summoning the power of the gods he worshiped to guide his spell.
In this
crystal I imbue
Powers in
which to release
That one
day he might at last find peace
The crystal-turned-key glowed softly in his hands. He held it triumphantly, glad a spell of his finally seemed to work the way in which he planned it to. So intent was he on the spell and crystal, he failed to notice his meddling with the dagger had attracted attention.
~~~
Agragag awoke all at once. He immediately felt the increase of power surging through him. Sitting up gingerly, he felt at his chest, only to find it completely healed. He stood up and looked around. Something was different. He felt odd, not entirely himself.
He took a step forward and stumbled over something. Looking down he saw Smook’s body at his feet. Agragag felt sick. In the back of his mind, however, elation and triumph reared. He jerked away from the body, realization dawning on him.
Oh, yes, came the whispery reply.
Agragag searched for something, anything, around he could use to end his life and the one intruding inside him. Not finding anything, he used his fingernails to claw at his own arms and chest. But to his dismay, every time he drew a fresh line blood, his flesh would heal itself automatically. Suddenly his body went rigid as if something else took over, and he collapsed.
The blade! Agragag, getting his body back in control, scrambled to his feet once more, this time heading toward where Smook had thrown the dagger. I need to break the blade!
Don’t be foolish! Don’t you see? We are unstoppable! Apart we were powerful, but together – together! – there is nothing we cannot do. Everything we want will be ours. No one can stop us. The voice grew dangerous. Not even you.
Agragag ran faster, ignoring the voice. He felt a pull of power – his power – ahead a split second before he felt a force like a barrier pushing him away. He knew it had to be the dagger, and right as he got as close as he could, Agragag saw a figure huddled over something.
“Father Mathieu!” He tried to call out, but his voice came out as a harsh whisper. The priest heard him and looked up, startled, eyes widening further as he saw the younger man. He held the dagger in one hand and a crystal in the other. The crystal glowed with a brilliant light that was rapidly fading, until all at once the light went dark and vanished, along with the crystal, from the surprised priest’s hands.
“No, oh no,” Mathieu whispered, looking at his empty hand in horror then back at the mage.
Agragag felt a fury build up in him upon seeing the dagger and crystal that he could not stop. He heard himself speak in a voice even harsher than before. “Foolish priest! Did you think to stop me? You are nothing, worthless! I am more powerful than you can even imagine. You have brought your death upon you with your insolence in thinking you could kill me!”
He saw himself raise his hand toward the older man, unable to stop himself. With a barked command, a ray of energy shot from his finger and hit Mathieu in the chest, smiting him. He snarled in anger, though whether at himself, Smook, or Mathieu he did not know.
A gasp in the bushes drew his attention, and he spun around to face the intruders.
~~~
The three young men had heard about Smook’s challenge, and after the two duelists did not return, they thought to investigate. David, Stephen, and Alvin were magic trainees with Smook and Agragag. They arrived at the battle to find the two men dead. Or so it seemed. Agragag, pale and drawn, had sat up suddenly, taking them by such surprise, they stayed hidden in the trees. As he got up and staggered away, they started whispering to each other.
“I thought you
said they were dead,”
“They were! I swear it!”
They looked after the risen mage, scared.
David whispered, appalled, “What kind of sick person would go so far cheat death that he’d raise himself as an – an undead?”
“Come on,” Stephen said, moving forward, “let’s see what he’s doing.”
Exchanging fearful glances, Alvin and David scurried to catch up.
They watched the exchange between the crazy priest and the mage they all thought to be their friend and were frozen in place by horror. To think, the man they all thought so highly of was just an insane, power-hungry lunatic who would let not even death stand in his way of what he wanted.
While not many
thought very highly of Father Mathieu, including the three onlookers, they
could not believe their eyes when Agragag killed him cold blood.
It was enough
to draw the thing’s attention.
They could not bring themselves to see the undead before them as Agragag
any longer. It turned towards them, eyes
flashing an angry red, and pointed. A
bolt like the one that killed Mathieu struck
Stephen was the first to move. He pulled David up and pushed him ahead, yelling. “Run! Get out of here! Get back to the towers!” Another bolt shot towards David, and Stephen flung himself in front of it, giving his life so the younger man had enough time to run.
And ran he did. He fled like the hounds of hell were on his heels, all the way back to the tower. He barely made it inside the hall before the realization of the events caught up to him, making him fall to his knees, sick.
The other trainees gathered around him, wondering what had happened. Shakily he told them the whole terrifying story – how Smook had challenged Agragag to a duel, and how Agragag killed him, making himself an undead wraith just to gain power, then killed Mathieu, Alvin, and Stephen for the thrill of it.
~~~
Word spread quickly of Agragag’s deception. When the instructors heard of it, they were all quick to say how they just knew someone with his power would grow too greedy for his own good. They shook their heads and mourned the loss of a bright pupil in Smook.
People could be heard whispering about it in the halls. Rumors about the evil Agragag spread quickly and were told to new trainees that arrived after.
“Did you hear about that one trainee who went evil? Killed his long childhood friend for power…”
“I heard his best friend tried to stop him, but ended up dead in the woods…”
“His rival killed him to stop his evil from spreading, but he had enchantments in place that raised him from the dead…”
“This mage had forged a blade of the blackest onyx and transferred his power into it over the years…”
“His dagger held enough power to bring him back from the dead – permanently!”
“The only thing keeping the wraith from his blade’s power now is a hilt that was specially crafted by his archrival…”
And the rumors continued. The more time went on, the further the truth was stretched until no one knew the real truth.
~~~
And still Agragag lived. If undeath could be considered “life”. While Agragag was usually in control of his wraith-like body, there were times when Smook’s consciousness was able to take over. At those times, the havoc that followed made Agragag sick for weeks to follow.
Agragag began spending his time in control searching for the dagger and trying to find a way to destroy it, knowing that only by doing so could he end his own life. Smook would not allow it, though.
Every time he found people to track down the dagger, Smook would take over and threatened the people’s lives and the lives of those they loved. When they continued to pursue it, he would make the threats a reality.
As the centuries passed, Smook’s essence within Agragag began to slowly corrupt his mind. The violence that followed those who meddled with the dagger became more gruesome. The adventurers Agragag had hopes of breaking his curse began to grow fewer and further between. It wasn’t long before his warped mind began forcing people to accept his quest.
It was at about that point when those he picked chose to kill themselves instead of enduring his duel personalities haunting them anymore.
~~~
And during all this time, Mathieu’s spell continued to work as all his spells had – not exactly as he planned. The empowered Crystal Key sped through time seeking the One who would have the will and power to use it and finally free the souls of those the blade bound.