God of Magic

by Logan Jacobs

  Evidently, the others felt the same way. None of us spoke much as we arranged our bedrolls on the stone floor, and I fell asleep almost as soon as I’d laid down.

  I slept deeply while visions of goddesses and wraiths flowed through my dreams. When I awoke to the gentle light of dawn with my cloak bundled up under my head, it took a moment for me to remember where I was, and then, somewhat unexpectedly, I realized I was relieved to find out that it hadn’t all been a dream.

  Aerin was curled up in the corner to my right, only a wisp of red hair and a single pointed ear visible from her cocoon of blankets, and Maruk snored softly against the wall opposite. Lavinia was already awake, and she sat cross-legged with her bow across her lap while she rubbed something onto the string, and she glanced up at me when I sat up.

  “You talk in your sleep,” she said.

  I couldn’t tell if she meant that as a criticism or not, so I said, “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “No,” she answered without looking up from her work.

  “What are you doing?”

  Then her red eyes flicked up to me, but I couldn’t read her expression any more than I could her tone, and I wondered if I had somehow offended her, but then she merely dipped her finger into a tiny pot and continued to massage the bowstring.

  “You have to wax the string to keep it from fraying and keep the water out,” the archer answered as she set a stopper in the pot and returned it to her pack.

  I shifted so that I could fold up the blanket Maruk had given me. “Well, you obviously know what you’re doing,” I said. “You’re a really good shot.”

  “I know,” Lavinia replied simply, but I caught a hint of a smile cross her face. She had a strange, but alluring, alien beauty. Her face was made of sharp lines that accented her horns and the scales on the side of her throat. Her red eyes were perfectly almond shaped with long eyelashes. If I had to guess what she was, I’d think she was some sort of lizard-human crossbreed, but I didn’t know if asking her about her race would be polite, so I decided to let it come up organically in a future conversation.

  “How did you learn to shoot like that?” I recalled the several rats she’d taken down with arrows clean through their eyes.

  “Imminent starvation is a great motivator,” came the reply. Lavinia was silent then for several seconds as she continued to work the wax into the bowstring, and I thought she wasn’t going to say anything else when she went on. “My parents died when I was young, left me a bow and not much else. I didn’t have the money to buy food or arrows, so I learned to make every shot count. When the humans and elves started letting ladonae like me into their archery competitions, I made a name for myself.” She grinned. “They didn’t like that.”

  “Ladonae?” I asked.

  Lavinia gestured to her horns. “Dragonkin.”

  “I take it that your kind isn’t much loved,” I said.

  “You don’t have our people in California?” she asked.

  “No,” I replied. “You are the first one I’ve ever seen, and I’m impressed.”

  “Impressed?” she asked as she raised a silver-white eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” I said with a shrug. “You are amazing with your bow, you seem very clever, and you look beautiful-- uhhh if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “You are strange.” Her red eyes stared at my face for a few moments as if she was trying to see if I was lying.

  “I’m not from around here, and I like to call it like I see it.” My heart pounded against my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I told a woman I thought she was beautiful, but I figured that this was a new life for me, and I could afford to be honest.

  “Hmmm.” She looked down to her weapon, set the bow aside, and wiped her hand on the leather of her boot. “After a while, they stopped letting me compete in most places. They made up some bullshit excuse about ladonae having unfair ‘natural advantages.’ The truth is, I was simply a good shot, and they were just sick of some orphan kid kicking their asses all the time. Anyway, that’s when I joined the Foxes. Most of the guilds wouldn’t accept a ladona, they didn’t care how well I shot, but Thom took me in, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  Just then, Aerin stirred and sat up, her red waves in disarray. “What time is it?”

  The sun had barely risen and was still low on the horizon, but Lavinia said, “It’s late. We need to leave soon if we want to make it back in time.”

  She stood and shouldered her bow and her new quiver before she crossed the room and nudged Maruk with the toe of her boot. “Enough beauty sleep, Maruk, let’s go.”

  The orc grumbled and swatted at Lavinia’s boot, but then he sat up as well with a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes.

  We packed quickly, especially given that we had relatively little to pack, and a few minutes later we found ourselves out in the open air. I had glimpsed the surrounding forest from the tower ruins before we had summoned the wraith, but I was still struck by the full sight of it now. Many of the trees were familiar, oak, ash, hawthorn, but here they still had all the vibrancy of spring, and they seemed sharper somehow, as though the world here was more in focus than where I’d come from.

  Tall grass and wild hedges surrounded the ruins, but in the distance, I could see a narrow dirt path. That was where Lavinia led us as we set off. Despite what she’d shared with me earlier, the archer didn’t seem up to talking now, and Aerin and Maruk weren’t fully awake yet. I still had hundreds of questions, but I supposed they could wait a little longer. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what lay ahead for me.

  In truth, I was excited, and the sense that I’d recovered some sort of sense or power that I’d been missing had only grown stronger since Theira had brought me here. The goddess had sent me to help this guild, but she’d also said my actions could shape the future of this world. I still didn’t know exactly what she might have had in mind for me, but I looked forward to finding my place here.

  Chapter 4

  Gradually, the sun rose into the cloudless sky and the narrow dirt track that we followed north widened into a dirt road. I reasoned that we had been walking for about an hour, but once we had left the ruins behind, there were no signs of civilization. The thick forest stretched on along either side as far as I could see, shady and tranquil. I enjoyed the walk and the weather, but I hoped I might start to get some answers to my questions.

  “So, uh, where are we?” I asked. “I mean, what is this place called?”

  The differences between this realm and Earth were less pronounced once we were out on the open road. Of course, my companions weren’t human, and I was pretty sure that the giant dragonflies I’d glimpsed on the roadside actually had humanoid bodies, but the landscape and weather could have made me think I was backpacking across Southern Europe.

  “There are different names in different languages, of course,” Aerin answered, “but we call our world Evreas. This region is called Ocloara, and we’re going to Ovrista. It’s a city-state near the western coast and the region’s major economic and cultural hub. That’s where the main charter office is for the region’s guilds, as well as the Arcane University Tower, the Mage Academy’s official headquarters in Ocloara.”

  “Who is in charge there?” I asked. Aerin had mentioned the Mage Academy before, but no rulers.

  “Ovrista has a governor, but that’s mostly a figurehead position that someone from one of the old, wealthy families takes up.” Aerin shrugged. “There’s a council, too, but everyone knows the governor and the council do whatever the mages tell them. So to answer your question, the person who’s really in charge is the Academy’s Arch-Mage in Ovrista, Eamon Maderel.”

  The person who, presumably, would have me executed if he found out about my powers. That was hardly a comforting revelation. I frowned.

  “How did it come to be that the mages gained so much political influence in Ovrista?” I asked.

  “It’s not just Ovrista,” Lavinia answered with a sidelong look. “You cou
ldn’t start a knitting club around here without a mage trying to control it.”

  “There are kingdoms and confederations with their own official governments, but as an institution, the Mage Academy is recognized throughout Evreas,” Aerin explained. “Naturally, the higher the concentration of mages there is in an area, the more regard people have for the Academy, but the only groups who ever deny the Academy’s authority outright are criminals and some of the smaller nomadic tribes.”

  She hesitated for a moment before she went on, her brow bent in a frown. “It was mages. Well, elementalists mostly, who stopped the rogue manipulators from taking over the world. The war was devastating, but when the manipulators finally fell, they left behind a pretty big vacuum of power. The Mage Academy was more than willing to step in, and since most people saw them as heroes at the time, they didn’t face much opposition.”

  “It sounds like their popularity has waned since then,” I remarked.

  “Yeah, that started right around the time they stopped giving a shit about everyone who wasn’t a mage,” Lavinia replied.

  “Come on, Lavinia, that’s not fair,” Aerin chided. “The Academy only accepts mages, of course, but they do a lot to help everyone and use the mana they collect for public projects and services.” Suddenly the elf’s eyes widened and she stopped. “Oh, shit.”

  “What is it?” I asked. The abrupt change in Aerin’s demeanor worried me, especially given that we were talking about mages.

  “You’ll be expected to register at the University in Ovrista,” Aerin answered. “All mages are required to contribute a percentage of our mana each month to the Academy in order to legally practice magic. You couldn’t live in the city or be part of a guild if you didn’t.” Her brow bent in a look of intense concentration. “Of course, you shouldn’t go anywhere near the Mage Academy.”

  Lavinia and Maruk had stopped as well and looked at the healer expectantly.

  Then Aerin’s expression brightened again. “So we’ll just have to keep you hidden. You can stay at home, where you’ll be safe. No one has to know you’re a manipulator, no one has to know you’re a mage, no one even has to know you’re in the city.”

  “Aerin, that’s ridiculous,” Lavinia said bluntly. “You can’t just lock him in the attic.”

  I looked between them. “Uh, yeah, I don’t want to be locked in an attic,” I said. I didn’t want to be discovered by the Mage Academy, either, but Aerin’s plan seemed a bit extreme.

  “He’s a manipulator, Lavinia,” Aerin protested. She wrapped her arms protectively around me. “He is the most valuable asset I- uhhh-we have. With Gabriel in our guild, we could rake in bounties we wouldn’t have even been able to afford looking at before, but we can’t do that if he’s dead.” Her tone was firm. “It’s decided, when we get to Ovrista, he’s staying at the Den where he’ll be safe.”

  “Eventually someone will notice that we have a mage in our guild again,” Maruk pointed out. “Then they’ll report us, Gabriel will be taken to the Academy, and we’ll be charged with harboring a fugitive manipulator.”

  “Besides, it’s just as dangerous out here as it is in the city,” Lavinia added.

  I supposed she meant that as a reason that I shouldn’t be locked away, but Aerin’s face paled and she gripped my arm tighter. “Gods, you’re right. He could be attacked by a wild animal or be struck by lightning or-or stub his toe. If anything happens to him, we’ll lose so much money.” The elf held me out at arms’ length and looked me over and checked that I hadn’t broken any nails. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  I gently pushed her away. “I’m fine, Aerin. Lavinia and Maruk are right, though, I can’t just stay hidden all the time.” I didn’t want to, either. “Obviously we’ll need to be careful, but it sounds like it might be better for me to hide in plain sight. Is there a way that the Mage Academy would be able to tell that I’m a manipulator without testing me?” The pendant Aerin had given me disguised my aura, but I didn’t know how I would be able to conceal my power.

  Aerin seemed to be fighting the impulse to examine the insides of my ears, but finally she stepped back. “No,” she said finally. Then she opened her mouth to say something else, but I cut in before she could start ranting about some other peril to my wellbeing.

  “So I could just disguise myself as another type of mage for legal reasons, right?” I asked.

  Aerin didn’t look happy to admit it, but she said, “No one will be able to tell what type of magic you use through the tithing process. There is an initial form to turn in, so we would have to lie on that, but there are so many mages in Ovrista that they don’t screen everyone individually anymore. It could work.”

  “Better than stuffing him in the attic,” Lavinia said. She turned on her heel and began walking again, and the rest of us followed, though Aerin trailed reluctantly behind.

  “Is it, though?” the elf said. “Maybe we can hide him from the Academy but what about everything else? What if he gets crushed by a boulder?”

  Lavinia groaned. “You’re a healer, Aerin.”

  “I can’t heal him if he’s dead!” Aerin protested.

  I put my hand on the elf’s arm. “It’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Really. I’ll be careful.” She didn’t look entirely convinced, so I decided it might be best to try to redirect her focus somewhat. “Maybe you can tell me more about how magic works here, so I can be prepared.”

  “You really don’t have any magic where you’re from?” Aerin asked. The way she said it, it was like I had told her we didn’t have sunshine.

  “No,” I replied, and Aerin shook her head in amazement.

  “So none of the guilds where you’re from have mages?” Aerin frowned. “Or healers?”

  “Oh, well, we don’t have guilds,” I said.

  Aerin laughed. “No, really,” she insisted. “How do they manage like that?”

  “We really don’t have guilds,” I replied. “I mean, there used to be fraternities of merchants and craftspeople and some religious groups like that, but that was hundreds of years ago. It’s not something people do anymore, and even back then, no one ever went on quests....” I trailed off when I realized Aerin, Lavinia, and Maruk had all stopped and were staring at me.

  Aerin’s eyes were alight with fascination. “But then how do you maintain a stable economy?” she asked as she squinted at me. “What is your civilization like without magic?” Suddenly her face fell, and she looked at me with dawning fear. “You do have civilization, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said as I held up a hand placatingly. “It’s really not so bad, I swear.”

  Aerin didn’t appear to be entirely convinced, but the three had recovered from their shock enough to begin walking again.

  “Magic is rare among us orcs anyway,” Maruk said as he lifted his chin. “Perhaps Gabriel’s people were able to learn from the orcs in his world.”

  Given the reaction I’d just gotten, I wondered if maybe it would be better to wait until everyone had sat down to reveal the rest of the horrors of Earth, but then I noticed that Maruk was looking at me expectantly.

  “Er, actually, where I’m from everyone is human,” I told him.

  His pale blue eyes went wide, and Aerin gave a little gasp. Only Lavinia didn’t react, and I supposed that was because I had already told her that there weren’t ladonae in my world earlier.

  Finally, Maruk asked in a nervous breath, “What happened to all the others?”

  “There were always just humans,” I replied. “Orcs and elves were just characters in stories.”

  Maruk frowned deeply, and I wondered for a moment if I had offended him when he sniffed and straightened up his armor. “In that case,” he said, “I’m glad I was the one to give you your first impression of my people.”

  “Your world sounds very strange,” Aerin said vehemently, “but I’m sure you’re going to love Ovrista.”

  “How far away is it?” I asked.

  “We won’t get there until
around midday tomorrow,” she answered. “We’ll pass through a few towns on the way, and we can sell some of the stuff we picked up, we usually get better prices along the road than in the city.”

  “Oh, we should stay at that charming inn in Kassal tonight,” Maruk said. He sighed with dramatic weariness. “I long for a decent night’s rest on a mattress that isn’t stuffed with straw.”

  “Do you want to explain to Milton why we don’t have his money when we get back?” Aerin asked him. “We have to pay off our debt.”

  “And we have to sleep somewhere,” Lavinia pointed out.

  “We should stay at the Limping Dog again,” the elf said, her tone assertive.

  Maruk wrinkled his nose. “I detest that place,” he scoffed. “Last time we were there, everyone kept giving me funny looks for being an orc.”

  “Everyone was giving you funny looks because you smelled like the Duchess of Nelm,” Lavinia countered.

  “Well, one of those ruffians liked that cologne enough to steal it from our room in the middle of the night,” Maruk retorted.

  “Right, shame about that,” Aerin said, but when she caught my eye, she gave me a conspiratorial wink.

  We walked all day along dirt paths, through groves of green spring trees, and over small brooks with idyllic stone bridges. I wanted to spend more time talking to my companions, but the three of them were quiet during the journey, and the pace they kept ensured that I almost didn’t have enough air in my lungs to talk, even if I wanted to. I ended up exhausted, and I couldn’t have cared less where we stayed by the time we made it to Kassal. That evening, I just wanted to sleep.

  “You’re still getting the hang of your powers,” Aerin told me after I’d collapsed onto one of the mattresses in our room at the Limping Dog, a shoddy roadside inn and tavern. It was more cramped than cozy, the gray blankets itched, and I could hear the shouts of the patrons in the bar downstairs even from here, but now that I was finally off my feet, I didn’t have anything to complain about.