Lost Sorcery- Mage of Myths

by Claire Chilton

  With a sigh, she realised that she didn’t have a choice. She had to stop things growing when she touched them. People were going to start to notice.

  Of all the magic powers, I get fast- growing fertiliser as mine.

  While shaking her head at how ridiculous it all was, she reached into her satchel and rummaged through it on a quest for her torch.

  After breathing a sigh when she found it, she pulled out a glowing orb and held the sphere out in her hand as she stepped into the cave. The milky glow from the magical torch illuminated the cavern. She could see a few feet ahead of her in all directions.

  Slowly turning around, she scanned the chamber. A carpet of green moss lined the walls up to waist level, and there were tide lines on the rock where the sea must wash into it at high tides.

  Note to self: Get out of here before the next high tide.

  Facing forward, she studied the dark tunnel ahead of her. It was a narrow passage that led deeper into the cave. The air was fresher as it shot down the tunnel towards her.

  Forcing herself to ignore the shiver of cold fear that shot down her spine, she hurried into the passage.

  The faster I get this over with, the faster I get out of here.

  She tried not to imagine the price she would have to pay for the witch’s services as she hurried past craggy rock walls, seeing spiders scurrying in and out of the cracks. Binks had told her that the witch always set a price on her services. He’d warned her that the price could be high, and it could be anything.

  What’s a forgetting spell going to cost, my first- born, my soul?

  Shaking off the doubt over coming here, she reached the end of the passage and peered around the corner to find another chamber. This room was lit by candles, which created a wavering glow across the mossy walls. She glanced up at the ceiling, lifting her orb of light to examine the pearly stalactites that hung from the roof of the cavern, dipping down into silky points.

  Lowering the orb, she stepped into the massive chamber, glancing around it as she brushed past the old wooden desk and headed towards the stone table at the centre of the room.

  She eyed the fist-sized crystal, which was sitting in a delicate golden stand at the centre of the table. Her reflection moved in it as she drew closer and peered into the glass.

  She frowned as smoke swirled around her reflection. Then she quickly spun around to check behind her.

  Unable to find any smoke, she narrowed her eyes at the dark corner at the back of the chamber.

  Slowly moving forward with the orb in her outstretched hand, she could make out a throne shape. Stepping closer, illuminating the darkness, she widened her eyes.

  Sitting on a stone throne and wearing a dark green robe was a sleeping witch. She was an elf, judging by her delicate size. Her white-blonde hair flowed over her shoulders in straggly curls from beneath the dark hood of her robe, which shadowed her face.

  Her skin was so pale that it was blueish in the light.

  Malian stepped closer to her, trying to determine if she was asleep or dead. She couldn’t detect if she was breathing or not.

  That would be just my luck if she dropped dead before I could get her to help me.

  Ignoring the tremors of fear that were causing her hand to shake, Malian stepped closer to her, hovering over the witch and peering at her face.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she jumped back as the witch raised her face, snapping open her violet eyes and glaring at her.

  ‘Who dares to enter my cave?’ The witch’s voice boomed through the cavern.

  Hitching her breath, Malian took a few seconds to calm her racing pulse. Then her shock took over. ‘Holy crap, could you be more dramatic?’

  The witch cast a cool glance over her before eventually allowing a small smile to play on her lips. ‘I could, but you didn’t come here for dramatics. Now, lower that orb and we’ll get started.’ The witch clicked her fingers, and the room lit up with a constellation of fairy lights above them.

  Malian lowered her orb and peered up at the stalactites on the ceiling. The witch had taken fairy lights literally it seemed because there were hundreds of angry fairies bound to her ceiling by golden thread, each one struggling to break free of their bonds.

  ‘Pretty, aren’t they?’ The witch nodded at the fairies.

  ‘They don’t look very happy,’ Malian said as one of the fairies hissed at her and bared its fangs.

  The witch shrugged. ‘There’s no such thing as a happy fairy. Anyway, these ones are in rehab, so it’s for their own good.’

  ‘Rehab?’ Malian widened her eyes.

  ‘Snorting their own dust, it’s becoming an epidemic.’

  Malian nodded. The dealings in fairy dust were getting out of hand amongst the fairy community. It was about time someone dealt with it.

  Feeling a little friendlier towards the witch, she held out her hand. ‘I’m Malian.’

  The witch glanced at her hand for a moment with a frown. ‘I’m Ingeth.’ She brushed past Malian and headed over to the table with the crystal on it before taking a seat.

  Malian lowered her hand, feeling a little stupid as the elf stared at her. ‘Right.’ She walked over to the table and sat down opposite the witch. ‘So how do we start?’

  ‘First we must discuss the price.’

  ‘Don’t you want to know what the job is first?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. The price is the same either way.’

  ‘For everyone?’ Malian frowned. Binks had told her that the price was different for everyone.

  ‘No, your price is your price.’ The witch shrugged.

  ‘Okay, so what’s my price?’ She tried not to imagine how that worked if it was your soul. What if you wanted more than one service?

  ‘You must take Caelan with you on your journey,’ the witch said.

  ‘Wait, what journey? I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘Yes, you are. So, do you accept?’ The witch peered into her crystal ball, and then she spat on a cloth before polishing the orb with it.

  ‘Who or what is Caelan?’ Malian warily eyed her. It was a very vague price.

  ‘He’s your price.’

  Malian sank back into her chair. She really needed help, and she wasn’t going on any journey, so it didn’t seem like too big a price. ‘Okay, deal.’

  ‘Good. Now, you need to pack warm clothes for the journey,’ she said. ‘And you’ll need to find the next rune before you die.’

  ‘What do you mean by die? You’re supposed to be making the elves lose their memory about the trees.’

  ‘No, that’s not the service you need. You’re cursed. You need my help to find the next rune so that you live past your next birthday.’ Ingeth stared into the crystal with intent eyes. ‘Yes, the elements are at work in your future. You need to get control of it before it rips you apart.’

  ‘Look, I’m sure this future reading crap works for some people, but I just want you to fix the trees.’

  ‘It’s not crap! This is what you need, and I don’t fix trees.’ The witch scowled at her.

  The fairy lights flickered for a moment. When Malian looked back at the elf, she wore a blank stare as she gazed into the crystal. Her voice came out in a low monotone that chilled Malian to the bone. ‘And as the last elemental leaves this world, life shall take a fleeting last glance upon Ispa before it too will fade from existence leaving only death and decay in its wake. The darkness shall engulf the light as the final curse is invoked. Death will arise from beneath the soil, and chaos will reign.’

  Malian stared at the witch with wide eyes. ‘What the—’

  The witch snorted. Then she jumped in her seat as she snapped out if it. ‘I hate it when that happens,’ she muttered as she shook her head. ‘Where was I?’

  ‘You were babbling about elementals and death,’ Malian said. It was like listening to a priest. Everyone knew that elementals were a myth. If such a thing had existed, they left this planet a long time ago when the last elemental mage die
d.

  ‘Seriously, again?’ She shook her head. ‘My bad. Right, so you’re cursed. It appears to be an old one, so it’ll be a pain to break it. You need to find the next rune and destroy it before your next birthday, or you’ll die.’

  ‘Is this because I broke that other rune?’

  Ingeth shrugged. ‘Probably.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘I just tell you what I see. I see you dying, I see a rune, and I see…’ She trailed off as she frowned.

  ‘What?’ Malian peered into the crystal, just seeing her own reflection.

  ‘Do you have a bear?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Malian nodded.

  ‘That’s a big bear.’

  ‘She’s a shapeshifter.’

  ‘You don’t say.’ Ingeth reached for her book before quickly writing something down with her quill. ‘Okay, you need to go here to pick up Caelan. Take him with you, and I’ll consider your debt paid.’ She ripped the parchment out of the book and handed it to Malian.

  ‘Wait a minute! What am I supposed to do about the giant trees and about things growing when I touch them?’ Malian asked as she took the scroll from the witch. While she was speaking, a small branch began to grow out of the scroll, and she dropped it with a yelp.

  ‘Is that tree parchment?’ Malian asked.

  Ingeth pondered the question for a moment. Then she shrugged and quickly dipped her quill into an inkwell before scrawling some words onto a piece of leather parchment and handing it to Malian. ‘Deny all knowledge about the trees, and stop touching things.’

  Malian gaped at her. ‘Seriously, that’s it?’

  ‘I’m not your healer.’ Ingeth stood up and headed back towards her throne. ‘Off you go now, before the tides come in.’ She waved at the door.

  A part of Malian wanted to fight with her, but a stronger part of her just wanted to get out of here. Being stuck in a cave with the witch because of the tides wasn’t the most appealing idea.

  Fighting the urge to complain, she glanced down at the parchment. It listed the details of the journey that she needed to take. She needed to go to the Elven capital of Ilsador and find the Scroll of Ember. Beneath it was a language she couldn’t read, followed by a name and an address:

  Feadel te parass et te livel por Elvor

  Caelan Lithalia

  Dalouth Ironforge

  Dorlendell

  At least the price was near to home. But judging by the guy’s name, she was going to have to speak to an elf.

  Gritting her teeth, she stood up and left the cave, heading for Dorlendell.

  This guy better not be a human hater.

  5

  THE PRICE

  Mud splashed up Malian’s brown boots as she stomped down Main Street towards the forge, trying to ignore the various vendors calling out to her as she passed through the market district.

  ‘A nice robe to cover up your dirty human flesh!’

  Malian spun around to glare at the delicate elven woman, who was selling robes on her stall.

  The elderly elf gasped and took a step back. ‘I-I m-mean, to er, keep you warm and cover up all that naked flesh that you’re flaunting around like a cheap strumpet.’ She waved a hand at Malian’s outfit, pointing out her bare midriff and exposed thighs.

  Malian touched the dagger at her belt while narrowing her eyes at the elf.

  ‘Perhaps a nice new satchel instead?’ The elf offered.

  Without saying a word, Malian turned on her heel and continued down the muddy street.

  ‘You’ll never get a husband if you look like that!’ the elf cried after her.

  I don’t look like a strumpet. I look like a warrior, and I don’t want a husband!

  She glanced down at her leather shorts, which clung to her hips and bared a fair amount of her thighs. Shaking her head, she continued on her mission.

  Bloody elves and their bloody rules! It doesn’t matter what I wear as long as I can fight in it.

  But the lingering question about a husband caused her to frown. She hadn’t really thought about marrying or falling in love. Elf girls did that girly stuff. She was a human. There weren’t any other humans in Dorlendell unless you counted the traders who passed through. She didn’t count them since all the ones she’d met were over sixty years old and quite disgusting to think about.

  She’d never really understood why anyone would want to fall in love anyway. From what she’d seen in Dorlendell, love just made you look stupid. You were either stupid for each other or stupid without each other.

  My life’s stupid enough, she thought as she turned the corner, heading for the forge.

  She came to an abrupt halt when she caught sight of the man in the forge. Her breath caught in her throat, and her stomach did a somersault as she stared at the young man inside the forge.

  She found herself captivated and unable to look away as she watched sweat drip down the muscles on his bare back as he raised his hammer and slammed it down onto the smouldering sword on the anvil in front of him, creating a storm of fiery embers around him in the process.

  New thoughts about love and romance overwhelmed her as she gaped at his tawny skin, watching his broad shoulders flex as he raised the hammer to slam it down again. Shirtless and only wearing a pair of black leather pants, he seemed like a giant, towering at least a foot taller than her. There was a tribal tattoo on the back of his left shoulder, and his dark hair curled around the back of his neck.

  Malian’s stomach clenched at the sight of him, her pulse speeding up as a ball of pure energy seemed to block her throat making it hard for her to catch her breath.

  He turned to peer over his shoulder, and she swallowed the painful bubble and hitched in her breath, which was fortunate because her lungs were in desperate need of oxygen at that point.

  The sensible part of her mind tried to break his spell over her.

  Breathe. You’ll just get more brain damaged if you don’t.

  But she ignored the voice, choosing to be a willing captive to the moment instead.

  His eyes were dark angry pools, his face angular with a mix of elf and human in it.

  He’s a cross- species. He must be.

  She frowned. In all of her years here, she’d never seen him before. She tried to understand why just looking at him was causing a million butterflies to do cartwheels in her stomach, and why her chest was aching with feelings she’d never felt before. It must have been butterflies because her heart had never felt like this before—filled with a longing that was almost painful.

  He widened his eyes when he finally noticed her, dropping the hammer to his side as he stepped towards her.

  She swallowed as she watched him throw the hammer onto a nearby bench. Then he covered the ground between them in a few strides until he was standing over her, staring down in a dark gaze that caused her heart to thump loudly in her chest.

  He was so close. All she had to do was reach out and touch him. Curiosity seemed to be controlling her actions as she raised her hand, leaving it unsurely hovering over his muscled chest.

  He glanced down at her hand, frowning for a moment. Then after shaking his head, he gripped her small hand in his large one and gave it a brisk shake. ‘What do you want?’ he asked.

  Taking a moment to gather her wits—which to be fair were floating in some kind of lusty fairy dust right now—she peered up at him. ‘Are you er, Caelan?’

  He angled his head to the side, peering at her waist.

  She felt a blush heat her face as his hand brushed against her bare midriff.

  ‘I am. Does this need sharpening?’ He pulled her dagger out of the sheath at her hip and glanced at it.

  ‘It’ll be two coppers to sharpen it. But if you want a new hilt—’

  ‘No.’ She snatched the knife out of his hand and slipped it back into its sheath. ‘I was sent to pick you up.’

  He raised an eyebrow, and her stomach felt as if it dropped to near her knees.

  ‘By the witch,’ s
he quickly added. ‘I’m supposed to bring you with me on my journey.’

  His frown deepened. ‘What?’

  Oh, that’s just great. He doesn’t even know what I’m talking about.

  ‘Do er, you know the witch in the caves, Ingeth?’ She tried to keep her voice from trembling. He was so big, and he was standing so close. A dragon standing this close wouldn’t make her legs tremble, but apparently, his attack on her libido was more dangerous than dragon fire.

  ‘Is this a joke? Did the Sun Knights set this up?’ He took a step back and folded his arms while studying her with narrowed eyes.

  ‘What? No, I don’t have anything to do with those morons.’ The Sun Knights were the core group of warriors in the Sun Elf kingdoms. They were known for their bravery and strength. However, to Malian, they were known for being pompous asses. Yes, they might be good with a sword, but their egos were far mightier than their fighting skills.

  Caelan’s eyes turned to slits as the muscles in his shoulders bunched up. ‘What?’

  She noticed a tattoo on his arm of a diamond-shaped shield. Recognising it as the Sun Knight’s insignia, she realised he must be one of the knights. ‘I m-mean gorgons. You know, the insignias they wear with the monsters on them that look a bit like gorgons…’ She trailed off, realising that she sounded as dumbstruck as she felt.

  His expression of anger melted into a look of concern. He clearly thought she was deranged in some way.

  And, why not? You sound as if you are.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make her brain connect to her mouth. ‘What I mean to say is that er, you’ve been given a quest.’ She pondered her choice of words. It was kind of a quest. Okay, it was one given by a mental hag in the caves, but if he was a Sun Knight, he’d be bound to complete all the quests he was given. Some part of her was thrilled by the idea of this guy coming on an adventure with her.

  Okay, there is definitely something wrong with me.

  He scanned her from head to toe in a slow, deliberate stare.

  Her heart hammered, and her mouth suddenly felt too dry.