by K D Brand
Ty had to weave his way through the mini-labyrinth in order to reach the trainer, who sat at a huge wooden desk at the back of the room. The smell of old wisdom followed him the entire way. It reminded Ty of when his mom had more time before his father left.
She’d used to take him and J to the library every weekend. And unlike most moms, she never once restricted what the two of them could read. If he wanted a horror novel or a comic book or a reference book on World War II, she let him check it out.
Her only caveat was that Ty finish the book, no quitting halfway through, and that he came to her if he had any questions regarding its content.
She’d wanted them to experience both the good and the bad of the world, and doing it through books was the safest way to learn about hateful dictators who’d shed innocent blood for no reason other than race or religion or simple greed.
But she also wanted him to know that there were heroes in the world. People like Black Lightning and Spiderman and Black Panther, who fought for what was right, no matter what it cost them.
Ty stumbled as he made his way through the array of books, his fingers trailing the spines, eyes taking in all the titles—even if he couldn’t read most of them.
He was deep in his thoughts of home, of his mom and J, when a kindly voice dragged him from his reveries.
“Do you seek training in the way of magic, young traveler?” the man asked.
Ty only just realized he had come right upon the desk and now stood only a few feet away. He examined the elderly man now standing behind his desk.
He looked quite…wizardly, Ty had to admit, the stereotypes in full effect.
Unkempt, long white hair flowed over his shoulders, strands of it tangling among the belly-length white beard as though they were a single entity. A wrinkled face sat somewhere in the middle of it all. Sharp, blue eyes peered out from under bushy eyebrows.
What is it with the NPCs in this game and their eyebrows? Doesn’t Altunn have a beauty shop somewhere, or at least someone honest enough to call them on how they look?
A crooked smile showed bright, white teeth under a wide, hooked nose. The gleaming green tag above his head defined him as Semul Ree.
“Wait!” Ty sputtered, recognizing the name. “Are you related to Altunn Ree? The founder of the town.”
Semul grinned and nodded. “I am indeed. I’m Altunn’s great, great, great, great grandson,” he told Ty, chuckling. “Though, to be fair, I’m really greater than all that implies.”
Ty grinned. “I don’t know. I’m thinking four greats is pretty great.”
Semul clearly agreed. “You didn’t answer my question, though. Have you come to train in the arts of wizardry?”
“Yes, definitely. I would like—”
Semul didn’t give Ty time to even finish his statement before he summoned a fiery ball of fire into his palm. The orangish-red sphere of energy shimmered and cast dancing shadows across the wall. Ty stared at it, mesmerized by fury contained within its depths.
Then Semul threw it at him.
Ty shrieked as the fireball struck him, flames licking and biting, engulfing him in a malevolent conflagration. He stumbled back, slamming into one of the bookshelves and knocking it over. The flame caught, igniting the books and, even while Ty was consumed by the fire, he couldn’t help but mourn the loss of the wisdom contained in those books.
And then the flames vanished, disappearing with a soft hiss.
Trembling, Ty held his hands out before him and examined them. Only having seen his flesh burn and peel an instant ago, he shuddered at seeing them whole once again.
Then his terror shifted like a pendulum, swinging to rage.
“What the absolute fu—” He caught himself before he finished the curse, his mother’s over the top but unforgettable lesson ingrained after all these years, stopping him from uttering a legitimate cuss word ever again. “Seriously, man, what was that for? Was it some kind of test or something?”
Semul shrugged, laughing all the while. “No, not really. I just like the look on people’s faces when I cast that illusion spell.”
“Ugh,” Ty groaned.
What’s with all the trainers being jacktards? he wondered.
Ty drew in a deep, slow breath to calm himself while Semul got the laughs out of his system, and then finally answered the mage’s earlier question. “Yes, I would like to train in the ways of magic. More specifically, the ones that don’t involve blasting surprised and innocent people with illusion spells, making them think they’re being engulfed in flames” he clarified at the end.
Semul grinned. “Then you’re missing out on half the fun of being a mage, boy, but to each their own. I can train you in the basics of magic, but first, I need—”
“Let me guess, a shiny gold coin?” he interrupted, knowing where the mage was going.
The trainer’s grin widened. “It’s a service to the community we trainers provide. It’s not without is expenses, however, and it most certainly doesn’t pay well.”
“Says the guy who’s about to take a fourth of my remaining money,” Ty complained.
Still, he plucked another precious coin from his pocket, and it struck Ty right then that he hadn’t remembered to loot all the goblins he’d killed outside of town. Mind you, Halgor’s sudden and unexpected appearance might have had something to do with it, but Ty chastised himself for not being cognizant enough to raid the bodies when they’d first died.
He grumbled at his idiocy.
If things kept going the way they were, he wouldn’t have enough money to even buy himself a decent weapon.
He held onto the coin a moment longer, debating turning it loose, then finally tossed it to the wizard. It’d be worth spending it…eventually.
Semul caught it gracefully and made it disappear with a flutter of his hands. He smiled and opened his palms so Ty could see that both were empty.
“I’m hoping I didn’t just pay you a gold to learn a carnival sideshow magic trick,” he grumbled. “I’ve seen better tricks by dudes on the street playing Three-Card Monte. What’s next, you’re going to pull a rabbit out of a hat?”
“Tough crowd.” Semul shook his head, the brightness of his grin finally dimming a little. “But no, I plan to teach you more than a simple sleight of hand. Though, to be fair, at this level, there is little for you to learn beyond the basics. You will not be facing down a dragon with what you learn here today.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve lowered my expectations accordingly since first deciding to come here,” Ty told him.
“Good,” Semul replied. “I like my pupils feisty and flexible.”
“That’d be me,” Ty mumbled.
“Then let us get started,” Semul suggested. “First, I must unlock your mystical potential.” The mage came over to stand in front of Ty. “I’ll admit, though, this part of the process is not entirely painless.” He set his palm on Ty’s forehead.
“Wait! What are you going to—”
He didn’t even get the complete sentence out before he figured out exactly what Semul was going to do.
And it sucked…bad!
It was as if Ty’s mind exploded inside his skull.
He screamed, desperate to fling himself away from the wizard and his agonizing touch, but some unseen force held him fast. All he could do was stand there. Stand there and suffer.
And suffer he did.
Unlike the imaginary fireball, whatever Samul did sunk deep into Ty’s core, setting him alight. His veins were filled with napalm, and it was as if every cell of his body was reborn like a phoenix, withering, imploding, then screaming back to life in a furious blaze.
Ty stood there, his voice so raw he could no longer hear his own screams, and then it was over. His legs gave out beneath him, and he toppled to the floor, curling fetal, afraid to open his eyes, afraid they had boiled and bubbled out of their sockets in a gooey mess.
He laid there trembling, the weakest he’d ever felt in his entire life. Even that
bout he’d had with pneumonia when he was six was nothing compared to the echoes of the agony that still reverberated through his body.
Ty didn’t know how long he remained curled up on the floor, but it seemed an eternity before the volcano inside him exhausted itself and went dormant. Still trembling, each breath the barest of motions to usher air in and out of his lungs, he crawled to his knees and dared to open his eyes.
Semul loomed over him…grinning.
Of course, he’s smiling. Sadistic schmuck.
“N-n wonder you…charge so much,” he managed to spit out. “If folks know what you do here, I can’t see anyone wanting to be a wizard. You’ve got to get what you can from the suckers like me.”
The mage trainer helped Ty to his feet and, despite the memories of what had happened flaring inside his mind, a bit of a fog crowding his mind, Ty actually felt okay.
In fact, he felt better than okay.
While he couldn’t put his finger on it, Ty sensed a difference about himself. He was still him, of course, yet he wasn’t.
“This feels…weird,” he mumbled.
You have gained +20 Spell Points!
Congratulations! You can now cast magic.
“It will subside soon enough,” Semul assured him as the notification rang out in Ty’s head. “That is the power of the Aether you feel. I have opened the door within you, within your very soul, your essence, and tethered you to the world beyond. It is through this connection, this doorway, that you will draw upon the energy, the mana, to cast even the most trivial of spells. But there is a cost.”
Ty groaned. “Running low on gold, buddy,” he mumbled. “Can I pay you with a pleasantly-phrased thank you or by sweeping the porch or something?”
Semul chuckled. “It is not a cost to your purse boy, but to your soul. You must be wary not to draw more power from the Aether than your mortal coil can contain. Siphon too much, and the Aether will extract a toll upon you. A harsh one.”
“That’s a little vague,” Ty told him, finally shaking off the last of the haze. “Care to elaborate?”
“Magic is more than spells and the corresponding costs,” he started. “Sometimes, you can cast a spell beyond your limits—though rarely, and only in the most desperate of circumstances—but the Aether does not take kindly to your pulling more of your fair share of mana from the pool. Should you tap into it beyond what it gives freely, then you risk being devoured from the inside by the very magic you summoned.”
Ty wrapped his arms around his chest. “That sounds…ugly.”
Semul nodded. “It can be, hence my warning, boy. So, heed it and be smart. Use only the mana the Aether offers willingly or not at all. If that is too much for you to contemplate, then I suggest you rethink your desire to enter the realm of magic.”
The Mage Trainer Semul proffers you this one-time opportunity to forsake your path towards magic, though he does insist upon keeping your gold regardless of your decision.
Do you accept? Y/N?
Ty was surprised at the notification. Not the greed of the mage trainer, that was kinda expected, but the offer to rewind the whole experience and avoid any future complications with the use of magic was entirely unexpected. He couldn’t remember ever being given the opportunity to for a do-over in the game. Not one that didn’t require him to restart his character over, that is.
Despite the ominous nature of the warning, it took all of two seconds for Ty to make up his mind.
“Heck no! I didn’t go through all of that just to back out now,” he said.
The mage trainer grinned at Ty’s choice. “Excellent. Then perhaps we should get started with your training. There is so very much to learn and so little time to learn it in. Are you ready?”
“As long as it doesn’t involve you blasting me with fireballs or lightning bolts, I think I’m good,” Ty fired back.
Semul sighed. “You noob adventurers are so sensitive these days. Back when I was training to be a mage, my master would summon demons for us to fight on our first day, with us having nothing more than our wands and our wits.”
“I bet you had to walk uphill in the snow both ways to get to the summoning circle, too, huh?”
The mage harrumphed. “Don’t be foolish, boy. You don’t summon demons in the snow.”
Ty chuckled, raising his hands in apology. “My bad.”
“It is indeed your bad,” Semul grumped. “Now, let us begin.”
Much like what had happened at the rogue trainer, Ty and Semul squared off, only it turned out to be not so much a physical confrontation as it did a mental one.
Semul repeatedly drilled oddly-pronounced words into Ty’s skull, demanding he repeat them over and over and over and over until they became not so much words as images, ideas.
After a while, Ty realized he’d been huffing and puffing even harder than when Morit had put him through his paces, sneaking up and punching him, tossing him around the place.
Ty struggled to catch his breath as each of the spells Semul crammed into his brain took shape.
The whole process was surreal, a Salvador Dali painting run through a blender and squeezed into his consciousness while being told by Semul that he needed to understand its every nuance.
A master of waiting until the very last minute to study or do his homework, Ty had never crammed so hard for a test before.
It was both confusing and exhausting at the same time, like whoever’s idea is was to add imaginary numbers to math. As if it wasn’t hard enough with real numbers.
Just when Ty was getting ready to explode, his mind unable to accept any more input, Semul called a halt to the training.
He took a step back, and Ty wavered as the unrealized connection between them was severed. Ty wobbled and nearly fell, only managing to regain his balance at the last moment. He stumbled over and dropped his butt against the mage’s desk.
“Quite an experience, is it not?” Semul asked.
All Ty could do was nod. He was so weary he thought he would pass out if he mustered any effort for words.
“I have done all I can for you at your level of experience, boy, but it’s clear you have a natural aptitude toward the use of magic.”
“I do?” Ty managed to sputter out.
Semul nodded. “I was able to delve deeper into your mystical core than I have ever done with an acolyte before.”
“So, you’re saying I’m a prodigy?” Ty asked, chuckling weakly.
The old mage grinned. “I’d hardly call you that,” he corrected, “but you are different, I’ll admit. There is something about you that is not quite…natural.”
He took a moment to look Ty over again, as he had when he’d first come into the hut, one eye narrowed as if each were seeing something different. After a moment, he huffed and offered up an uncertain shrug, giving up on the examination.
“I can’t explain it, but you are different than anyone else I’ve ever trained. Whether that is good or bad, though, I cannot say.”
“You just had to go ruin it with that last bit, huh?” Ty sighed. He already knew he was different, but the last thing he needed was some phycological Sword of Damocles hanging over his head.
“I speak only what I see, boy.” Semul walked over and patted Ty on the shoulder. “Be careful in the world, and return to me when you’ve gained more experience. I can teach you more spells then.”
The mage offered up one last grin—clearly the man’s trademark—and returned to his desk. He dropped into his seat and peeled open a great tome before him, a small cloud of dust wafting into the air. His attention shifted fully to the book a moment later, as though Ty were no longer there.
With no real understanding of what exactly the mage trainer had done with all the voodoo rituals and torture tactics, Ty drew in a deep breath and concentrated on bringing up his character sheet to take a look.
It appeared much more easily this time.
Ty noticed a shift to its layout immediately.
Alongside his skill
listing, a new box had appeared, offering up the spells he was apparently now capable of casting. Having once played a mage in the game, he understood the mechanics of the cost and their cost and duration, the two separated by a forward slash.
“Illumination, levitation, minor dispel, and mystic knives,” he listed, reading spells available to him now. “That’s it?” he muttered.
While he hadn’t known what to expect, to see the simplistic spells he’d gained was kind of a letdown. They weren’t exactly game-changers, not with the horde champing at the bit and waiting to rain down on Altunn, but he had to admit they were better than nothing.
“Mystic knives is probably cool,” he told himself. “And having 20 Spell Points isn’t bad for a noob caster.”
He contemplated casting one of the spells right then to see how they worked, but he realized he pretty much already knew how they worked. All the gibberish Semul had plugged into his brain had not only opened his access to these four spells, but it had laid out the blueprint as to how to activate them on a subconscious level.
Realizing that, Ty decided he could wait to trigger one of them. He wasn’t really sure how quickly mana regenerated in the game, so he didn’t want to waste it playing around. Besides, he needed to get back to his friends to let them know he was okay. He’d been gone a lot longer than he intended. It was worth it, but he had no clue how the unsure NPCs would deal with him being AWOL for so long.
Ty went to say his goodbyes to Semul when a question popped into his head. “Hey! In the ga—” he started, then course-corrected before he invited questions he wasn’t ready to answer. “Uh, is there a way to peek one of my stats without having to bring up my entire sheet? I mean, it’s cool that it’s transparent and all, but it’s pretty awkward, you know?”
Semul looked up from the book, bleary-eyed, as if he’d completely forgotten Ty was there. He blinked a few times, and then his grin ignited again.
“You need only to say: Examine X, X being the stat or skill you wish to look at,” he answered.
Ty nodded. It was so strange how real Semul was, his attitude, the fact that he was sitting right there in front of Ty as a being of flesh and blood, and yet the contradictions of leveling and spell points and character sheets never once flustered the man. It was as if he, and the others, were two people trapped inside the same body and mind.