Disclaimer: Characters and associated details are property of Hanna-Barbera and are used for non-profit entertainment purposes only.

Note: this chapter includes mild descriptions of not-so-mild violence. Archiving permission granted.
 

THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: The heroes go one-on-one with Rage and Zin.

"THE INNER LIGHT" chapter 11

by Eric R. Umali

"Duels"

After having walked just a few yards down the hallway, the heroes felt a slight breeze. The torches lining the wall began to flicker.

"Getting a bit nippy in here," remarked Jessamyn.

They stopped as the flames began to sway even more. The wind was picking up. In seconds, it became a full-force gale, and the heroes scrambled to find something to hang on to. Jonathor's fingers slipped along the wall as he was drawn deeper into the darkness. Soon, the wind gusted, and tore him from the wall. He was sent flying.

"Jonathor!" she screamed as she clung to a torch's iron fixture.

"Finish the mission!" he yelled back, then was swallowed by the shadows. The wind died, and Jessamyn tumbled to the cold stone floor.

Jessamyn called for him again, and the only response was the fading echo of her own voice. She shook her head. It was swimming in fears and demands. She knew what she was meant to do-- what she had to do-- but she had never imagined having to do it without Jonathor. Like a beacon, his words pierced her doubts. "Finish the mission."

The young sorceress climbed to her feet and drew her sword, her eyes becoming as hard as the steel. Jessamyn walked into the darkness.

**********

Jonathor hit the floor with a crash. He was surrounded by shadows, the flame from a single lit brazier the only light. He came quickly to his feet, his soulsword drawn. The scarlet gem in its hilt glowed, and the long silver blade glittered with its own light. A low, mocking laugh came from behind him, and he whirled to face it.

A tall, thin figure stepped into the flickering light, languidly waving a sharp sword of smooth black stone. He came from behind a column on the small raised platform that held the brazier.

"Ahh, so you have decided to pay us a visit?" the dark elf asked, seeming almost pleased.

"You know why I'm here, Zin. I would offer you the chance to walk away..."

"But?"

"But I know you would only try to stab me in the back on your way out." With a flick of his wrist, the soulsword twirled in front of the young warrior, flashing in the dim orange-gold light.

The dark elf nodded in agreement, then leapt from his position, the onyx sword pointed at Jonathor's heart. Jonathor took a few steps, then launched himself at Zin. Their swords flashed in the flame's light, crossing four times before they landed. Both warriors spun to face each other again.

Without another word, Jonathor lunged, swinging the soulsword in a tight arc, changing directions suddenly. Zin was barely able to block the swing, then launched his own attack.

**********

Jessamyn had taken only a few steps when the fire from the hallway's torches burst out, trying to engulf her. She quickly spun a protective spell, and the flames curled away from her magic shield, keeping the heat nearly a yard from her body. The intensity of the attack increased as she made her way down the hall, but her shield was stronger.

The fires died as she reached the great iron doors at the end of the hall. She swung them open.

Peering into the darkness beyond, she was barely able to make out a sphere of coruscating energy coming towards her. Jessamyn brought up her hands, and absorbed most of the blow. Her gauntlets glowing with eldritch power, she stood her ground. Torches and braziers lit themselves, bathing the room in moving, gold-orange light. The gaunt figure of the wizard's other dark elf aide stood several yards away.

Jessamyn's fingers curled into a fist. "Should I even give you the choice, Rage?"

"What?" the elf said, taking a posture of innocence. "To deliver you to my master and spare my own life? How silly that would be."

"I _will_ have to destroy you, Rage."

In response, the elf thrust his hands towards her, red lighting leaping from his fingertips. Jessamyn brought up her own, and a golden light beamed from her hands. The two mystical forces met between hem, in a great flash of magickal fury.

Both muttered incantations under their breaths even as their powers continued to struggle. One side would gain a new foothold, and begin to force the other back. Then the other would find a chink in the armor and press the new advantage. They stopped, all of a sudden, both breathing heavily, then began the battle anew.

**********

Jonathor's blood sang to the sharp sound of steel ringing against stone. Again and again, they traded blows, the chamber frequently illuminated by the flash of sparks where the swords intersected. He kept the sword moving, switching hands and constantly twirling and flipping it through the air.

Zin swung his sword over his head like an axe, and Jonathor blocked the blow, but was forced to one knee. The young warrior narrowed his eyes.

"Afraid to look, hero?" The dark elf's voice dripped with cruel pleasure. "Thou seest thy death."

In response, Jonathor's body collapsed as if defeated, bending like a reed in the wind. He pulled the elf off balance and sent him rolling to the floor. Zin came to his feet, reeling. Jonathor began to whirl, the soulsword drawing a long trail of golden flame in the air. The dark elf brought his onyx sword up, weakly blocking one blow, then another.

Jonathor spun through the air and the soulsword traced a line of fire as he swung it parallel to the floor. He landed in a crouch a yard away from the stunned Zin. The young warrior did not turn, but looked into his mirror-bright blade.

Zin began to laugh, then leaned his head back to laugh harder. The head lolled back further and further until it toppled to the floor. The dark elf's body fell to its knees, then fell. It convulsed as its dark energies crackled and spilled from it.

Jonathor drew his sword across his sleeve to clean it before sheathing it. Looking down at the fallen villain, a thought came to him, unbidden, from the back of his mind.

"There can be only one..." he whispered, not knowing why. He shook his head and returned to the task at hand. Feeling a heat on his chest, he drew the golden medallion from beneath his tunic. It glowed brightly, and a bright golden beam shone from it, pointing his way toward a door hidden by draperies.

Drawing his sword once more, he stepped through.

**********

A bolt flew from Rage's hand and struck Jessamyn. She felt her legs stiffen. Looking down, she watched her feet turn to stone. The gray pallor crept up her legs, threatening to turn the young sorceress into a statue. She tensed her body, pulling energy from the earth. The stone spell receeded and was purged from her body. Rage saw the anger in her glare and prepared for her retaliation.

Jessamyn's eyes blazed as bright as the magickal force that flowed from her hands. Rage bellowed as a burst of power enveloped him in a sheath of ice. Shivering, the elf closed his eyes, and his frozen bonds cracked and shattered. Shards of ice flew at the young sorceress, and she dove behind a column to avoid them.

She pulled her broadsword from its scabbard, and leapt from her hiding place. Rage used his power to hurl a brazier at her, glowing red coals and all. She was able to throw up a shield to deflect the attack, but dropped her sword. The force of the attack forced her back several feet.

"What is the matter, sorceress?" the dark elf sneered. "Canst thou not withstand my power?"

Jessamyn looked around the chamber. There was little to it, beyond the black stone columns and iron braziers and torches. High above them were heavy iron chandeliers, unlit.

She leaned around the column and let loose a blast at Rage as she drew one of her long daggers and gripped it tightly. Jessamyn whispered the power spell that had charged her crossbow bolts. From behind her back, the long knife began to glow. Rage stepped over her fallen sword and walked closer. After a few moments, she held her breath and cast the blade into the air.

It flew, turning and twisting until it finally intersected the iron chain holding one of the heavy chandeliers. It sliced through the chain with a shower of sparks. The iron ring came flying towards the floor. It struck the ground with a crash, cracking the stone floor. It missed hitting Rage by a good two feet behind him.

The dark elf doubled over with laughter. There were tears in his eyes as Jessamyn walked right up to him.

"You missed," he spat out.

"Did I?" she replied. Jessamyn turned on one foot and let fly a strong kick to the dark elf's chest. He staggered backwards, turning his back to the sorceress, surprised by the physical attack. Rage was just able to register the gleaming point of Jessamyn's broadsword. It pointed at him, tilted up by the iron chandelier's weight. He hesitated in his step. Jessamyn gestured, her gauntlet glowing. Rage was struck by a flash of light and fell upon the blade.

Rage slumped, impaled on the sword. Jessamyn retrieved her dagger, only to feel heat against her skin. She pulled her dragon medallion from her blouse, watching it glow brightly. A bright gold beam pierced the darkness. She held it up like a talisman, and the beam landed on a shadowed door.

Jessamyn readied her power and stepped through.

TO BE CONTINUED...

NEXT: "DARKNESS"