Inexperienced Mage (Reawakening Saga) (3 page)

As the noise died off Mark nearly fainted when he heard the tell-tell sounds of people moving toward him through the foliage. Soon the sounds of talking could be heard in the distance. At first the words were undecipherable but after a few seconds the brigands came close enough to be understood. “Dammit Pete! We’re shit fire lucky the royal guard ran off with that coach! We’d been slaughtered if they had joined in the fight for any period of time. Did you see that one big’un? He cut through Tom and Lewis like they weren’t nuthin‘,” growled a ruff voice.

“I hear
ya Chad. We lost near half our number with naught to show fer it. Good fer ‘im, Lewis bought the farm or I’d gut ‘im myself! Twas his durn fool idea to go after ‘em in the first place. Best we can do now is head back to camp and keep our heads down fer a good span.”

Hearing footsteps on the forest floor, Mark realized they were headed in his direction! When they were close enough for him to hear their ragged breath, his heart beat so hard he was sure they would hear it.

Fear held him in his concealed spot long after they were gone. He stayed unmoving until he noticed night was coming
quickly. He knew he would have to find shelter or his first night of freedom might be his last.

Walking through the dense forest was slow. His leg shackles leaving him little room for movement and catching often on roots and low handing branches. After a few hours he could make out what appeared to be a crumbling house in the distance. As he got closer Mark nearly tripped over a moss-covered stone wall. Looking around he noticed it wasn’t just a house but a small village lost to time. He made his way carefully toward the only building that looked
as if it had survived the decay.

He couldn’t tell what the building been used before it was deserted and left to the ravages of the elements. It was circular so he figured it might have once been a grain silo. The top of the building had caved in and the door was missing. He hoped the old structure would still offered some form of protection from the elements. Once inside he noticed the building was bare, most likely picked over many times in the years it had sat deserted.

As he made his way across the floor he could hear a
soft groaning coming from the ground below him. Looking down at his feet then back around the room he could see no stairway leading down and it didn’t make sense to him to have a basement without a way to get to it. Suddenly all his pondering was worthless as the floor gave way dumping him into the room below.

Mark let out a loud yell as he landed hard on the floor. One of the stones from the floor above landed on his leg sending added pain though his already bruised and battered body. To make matters worse, his fall had stirred decades of dust that filled the room and his lungs causing him to cough uncontrollably.

Moving the stone from his leg, he carefully examined where it had landed. After he was sure it wasn’t broken, he tried to stand, which was made extremely difficult by the shifting of the rubble under him.

Even after the dust began to settle, it was still too dark to make anything out in the room. Mark carefully made his way on his hands and knees until he found a clear spot on the floor and laid down. The air was slightly cold and the floor was hard but little of that seemed to matter at the moment. He had no energy left, so Pushing his worries and discomfort aside, he let sleep overtake him.

Chapter II

Mark was awoken by a stray beam of sunlight that drifted across his face. Sitting up, he began to stretch. His body was wracked with aches and pains from the various beatings the day before had given him. Squinting and rubbing his eyes, his vision slowly began to clear as he surveyed his surroundings.

The walls were lined with what he figured were once bookshelves. In the center of the room stood what Mark was sure had once been a worktable. Now it was nothing more than a jumble of wood and stone. Looking up he could see the hole he had fallen through. It wasn’t too high but with his shackles on, there was no way for him to crawl back outside.
His only hope was to find something to help him escape his bonds or he would slowly die of hunger.

Mark made his way to the nearest bookshelf
. Most of the books had long since rotted away to dust and the ones left looked fragile. Amazingly there were a few that still looked as if time hadn’t touched them. After carefully making his way around the room he found four books and a dagger that had survived through the years. Everything else had fallen apart at his.

Sitting on the ground, Mark began to use the dagger to attempt to cut through his shackles. He held little hope for succeeding but was pleasantly surprised to see the dagger was cutting through the hardened steel. It took quite a bit of effort but within the span of an hour, the shackles lay discarded in the corner of the room.

Freed from his bonds, Mark carefully examined the dagger. He had never heard of a weapon that could cut steel. The hilt was silver, designed to look liked corded rope with two small sapphires at the ends of the crosspiece. Even more surprising, the blade was not marred in any way and still maintained a keen edge. The only answer he could think of was that it was magical. If that was true it was worth a small fortune.

Excitement bubbled threw him. Magic had been lost or more to the point destroyed during the Fae Wars when Emperor Tremon had declared war on anything of magical existence. For over a hundred years the war raged on. Even after his death the order of knights he had created roamed the land killing mages and destroying any relics of magic that was found. From his understanding the Fae War was one of the reasons Farlan was now a Queendom.

Mark quickly grabbed and opened the first book. Disappointment filled him as he stared at the pages written in an unknown language. He was pleased to find the second book was written in his own language. He started reading and was soon absorbed in the volume.

It is the year twelve hundred and forty-six of the great empire. Emperor Tremon has declared war on all forms of magic. In the past forty years my brethren have been hunted down to near extinction mostly by items of our own creation. My brethren have a plan to destroy all magical items used by the emperor but the strain will most likely kill them. I was asked to help but instead I have hidden myself here in order to write this book in hopes that someday magic may once again be welcomed in the world.

First you must know magic is present in all things in the energy of their essence. The ability to control and influence this energy is present in a limited number of humans. Like any skill, some are better equipped than others and even the most talented require training to perfect their use of magic. But be warned Magic is not a cure-all and, in its own right, is a dangerous beast to wield that will leave you dead if you do not take it seriously.

There are two main types of magic that manifest within an individual - internal and external. Internal magic is the ability to absorb and manipulate magic into your body. This can be used to make one faster, stronger, and, for those
mages of gift, can be used to shape-shift. External magic is the ability to manipulate magic in the outside world using the elements of wind, water, earth, fire, energy, nature, light, and dark. Most mages tend to have a strong affinity with two or three of these elements. Few mages have mastery of four or more elements and are considered very rare. Of even more rarity are those that can tap all eight elements equally. There are also sub subcategories of skills that few mages show the skills for such as magic smiths, enchanters, and alchemists. All magic smiths are enchanters but not all enchanters have the ability to manipulate metal, and alchemists are set aside from both.

Mark wiped the sweat from his hands on his dirty tunic. He couldn’t believe it a book about magic. It took great effort and even then he could barely keep his hands from shaking as he turned the page.

The next few pages contained abstracts and warnings regarding the ethical behavior that should be upheld as a mage. After searching for a bit, Mark found what he was looking for.

The way the flow of magic is accessed varies from mage to mage. Some see magic as a river and divert it to their will. Others see it as the wind and shape it. The most important revelation is that one must be able to visualize the flow of magic within the mind in order to mold it to their needs.

Find a comfortable spot, close your eyes and meditate to find the flow of magic and shape it into a light. If you are an internal magic user your hand will glow and as an external user a ball of light will appear before you. At first you may have to use a key phrase or gesture to help with your visualization. While these aids are not required, they can be useful to help your mind quickly visualize the spell you are performing and reducing the time and mental energy expended. Beware - it is advised that you use a dead language or one of your own devising. More than one mage has set his house ablaze by careless actions.

Mark sat the book down and quickly leafed through the remaining two. One was a book on herbs and potions and the other was a book on the basics of enchanting. The book on enchantments made little sense to Mark but his basic understanding was it was an art of putting a permanent spell on an item. That enchanted item could then be used by anyone. While the books were interesting nether held his attention as other more important needs nagged at him.

Taking one last look around the room
, but found nothing else of use. with no reason to stay in the dusty basement, he carefully climbed his way out and back into the daylight. Though he was eager to try his hand at magic his first need was food as his stomach was already cramping and his head was light.

Finding four fairly straight long sticks he sharpened each to a point, fashioning crude spears. As he stealthily made his way through the forest he spied two rabbits. Crouching, he readied the first spear. As the projectile left his grip, his spirits sank as both rabbits scampered off to safety. With his stomach cramping and about to give up hope on catching any live game, the sound of rolling water touched his ears.

After a short search he found the source of the
noise, a slow moving stream. As he moved closer Mark could see fish swimming in its shallow depths. Rolling up his tattered and dirty pant legs Mark waded into the water.

No matter how he approached every time he stuck the fish
were well gone before his makeshift spear reached them. After countless hours his Frustration bubbled over and Mark began stabbing wildly at the next fish that swam by. Cussing Mark threw his spear into the water as hard as he could a short distance in front of him. To his amazement the spear began to jump around wildly. Running over to his spear he found a large fish impaled on its end. Laughing wildly Mark collapsed in the water tears running freely from his eyes.

Once his hunger was sated, he found a nice quiet place and began to meditate. He envisioned the flow of magic as a dark red fog hanging around him. With his eyes closed he held his right hand out in front of him. He forced the red fog to collect into a tight ball in the palm of his hand. Tiny beads of sweat started rolling down his face as he focused harder and harder on the image of the light. Suddenly a slight tingling sensation shot through his body. Keeping his focus, he opened his eyes to see a dim red light hanging above his hand.

Surprised by his own success, Mark jumped up and the light promptly disappeared. Reassured with his previous success he was able to bring the light back with little effort. This time he envisioned the light as a soft blue glow. Laughing Mark leaned back against a tree amazed and delighted by the fact he could do magic. What all he could do with magic was still a mystery to him, but he was determined to find out.

Mark read the book of magic late into the night. Using his mage light when the sun sat too low to provide sufficient light for him to read. Whenever something in the book grabbed his attention he would immediately try it out. As the book had instructed, he used key commands to make the casting of magic easier and quicker. But it wasn’t as simple as saying a word he had found the words had to have a clear association in his mind to the spell being cast.

The book had suggested using a dead language but because Mark had no knowledge of such, he decided to alter the little used Teran language for his keywords. Instead of luma for light he used lumanare. After concentrating and casting the spell three times using the keyword, he found he no longer needed to envision the mist. He need only to focus and say the keyword.

After making a fire and stunning a small frog that wondered into his camp, Mark’s head started to throb and he was having trouble holding his focus. Deciding it was time to retire for the night. He lay down and thought of what he would do in the morning. He wanted to make his way back to civilization, but he wasn’t sure if he should practice on his
magecraft first or not.

His head hurting too much for overlong contemplation, he decided to let the morrow take care of itself. Laying his head back on the moss-covered ground, he closed his eyes and quickly drifted off into a pleasant and restful sleep.

The next morning he was woken by the sound of something moving around his camp. Slowly he opened his eyes to see a small fawn grazing nearby. Concentrating he focused on the paralyzing spell and released it. As soon as the spell was launched, Mark jumped up and grabbed his spear running at as he ran toward the fawn. He had not known how long the spell would last on a larger animal and was pleased when the fawn never moved so much as its tail.