Magician Prince

by Curtis Cornett

  His blood boiled with the magic that jumped at the chance to serve him. It filled him, reassured him that he had the power to do whatever needed to be done, but the dragons still posed a threat if he were to attack the sorcerer and even if he bested them, then he would never be able to return to this place in this body or any other. That was a hefty price to pay for the slaying of one old sorcerer, but when he considered that his old grimoire could be used to help destroy him the risk suddenly seemed more acceptable.

  There they were! Sane and Southernstar were descending the staircase as Xander arrived at the bottom. Sane looked surprised, but Southernstar moved her head and neck so that she was between them. “Well met, Byrn,” she said without a hint of irony or accusation, “or would you prefer to be called Xander?”

  “Call me what you will,” Xander told her. “I assume Sane has taken my grimoire.”

  “He has, by Eldar’s leave.”

  “I wish it returned to me.” Xander held his staff defensively, not quite daring to take a more aggressive posture just yet.

  “It is no longer yours. Please step aside.”

  The power itched to be released. He wanted to take the grimoire. He wanted to kill Sane. He wanted to test his newfound might against the strength of a dragon.

  “Give me the grimoire, Sane,” his voice was dark, threatening. Xander left no room for interpretation of his meaning.

  “We can settle this when we get back to Aurelia.” Weakness seemed to ooze from Sane’s words. He was trying to be brave, but even with a dragon to defend him the sorcerer still feared Xander.

  Streaks of dark energy flashed from his staff and struck Southernstar in the armored scales along her neck, pushing her down and forcing Sane to run a few steps higher to avoid her landing on him. Xander laughed in delight as a new surge of magic welled up in him. “Let us settle this now.”

  Sane thrust his staff forward and exhaled a chilly breath that culminated in a barrage of icy spikes flying towards Xander, but he stopped them in mid air with one upraised hand.

  “This is not a place of violence!” It was the blue dragon librarian from behind Xander. “You must leave this-“ He would have said “place,” but Xander had cut him off with another bolt of black lightning that forced the dragon to leap back.

  A powerful roar could be heard coming from the entrance and another dragon- this one was dark green with a look of anger- came bounding in. He made no warnings as Southernstar or the blue dragon had. This one took a deep breath and blasted Xander with a wave of hot air that almost knocked him down. They were still holding back. At first he thought it was to protect their moral code, but then he realized there was something else equally valuable to them here. The stronger dragon had not used its fire breath, because it feared destroying all of the old tomes that lined the library’s walls and shelves. There were irreplaceable works in this building.

  “I just want one book,” Xander told the strong one. He kept his tone commanding to make sure the dragon knew that he was not afraid. “If the other human gives it to me, then I will leave peacefully.”

  The dark green dragon stepped closer as did the blue librarian. Their progress was slow, calculated. They were waiting for an opportunity to strike. Southernstar was up too. She was much closer than the other two and was within pouncing distance. Sane was just behind her to the right. Xander should have been afraid, but he was not.

  “You would risk having all of this destroyed for one book?” asked Xander, waving his arms to all of the shelves around them.

  Southernstar pounced and Xander swung his staff behind him like a club. It did not connect with the red dragon, but it loosed a wave of black energy in its wake that at once held Southernstar and sent bolts of energy striking across her scales. Her roar of pain bounced off the walls, making the sound even more terrible.

  “Then let this place be your tomb,” Xander muttered. He placed the tip of his staff to the floor and coalesced a portion of his energy into a black matter ball. It was not very big, but would be enough to destroy the library and all within it.

  He ran at Sane and lashed out at the sorcerer with black tendrils. One batted Sane’s staff out of his hand while each of the others grabbed a limb. The black grimoire fell at his feet. When Xander was within a few feet of Sane he lifted him up and the fifth tendril wrapped around the sorcerer’s throat. Xander could drain him, but that would be too quick and not nearly painful enough. Instead he squeezed at the sorcerer’s neck, causing him to cough and wheeze.

  The blue dragon roared in terror at the sight of Xander’s black matter ball and ran towards it. Two more dragons were coming in the library’s entrance.

  Xander pointed his staff at the wall at the top of the stairs and a flurry of black lightning strikes shattered a whole in it as if the wall was made of clay instead of stone. He pulled in Sane and whispered; “You should have sided with me,” before flinging him down the stairs so that he landed near the black ball that was now pulsating.

  Xander aimed at the black grimoire that was now at his feet and with a short blast of fire incinerated his old grimoire. An orb of energy surrounded him and the necromancer propelled himself out of the hastily made opening in the wall.

  After a few seconds when he was certain that he was out of the blast’s radius, Xander turned and watched as the sound of an explosion shook the building and was immediately followed by the walls crumbling and falling inward due to the implosion.

  Dragons flew towards the center of the explosion from all directions, but none stopped to question the little human who was flying close to the ground as he fled the city. Xander took one last look as he left the city of dragons. He would not be welcome here again. Then he reached into the small pack that hung at his side and pulled out a rune that would take him back to Aurelia and vanished.

  Chapter 28

  The summoning failed… again.

  It was the third such attempt in the last week to reach the spirit of Xander Necros, leaving Alia with mixed feelings about her failure. She found herself alternating between disappointment at being able to call him forth and a slim hope that he was still alive somewhere.

  Her attempts were made in secret. It would have been better for her to seek Riona’s council, being a master of the summoning arts, but Alia could not bring herself to admit to anyone that there was a part of her that refused to accept what she was told. It somehow seemed weak or childish that she would grasp on to this vain hope and did not want to show that side of herself to anyone. Whenever Alia brought up how her father died Riona would not look her in the eye. At first Riona would not speak of the details at all and later only said that he was killed fighting Kenzai. It may have been that it was a difficult memory for her to relive, but it was enough to cause Alia to question the story given to her. When pressed Tomlin had admitted to not seeing Xander die personally and that only fed Alia’s paranoia about the subject. Perhaps she was grasping at straws, but she had to try.

  Ryonus would have said that her searching was an unnecessary folly, if he had known. To him the world was painted in black and white. He saw things only as they were and never as they could be. Ryonus believed that Xander was dead, because a trusted friend told him it was so and the fact that they were all fleeing a battlefield reinforced that. Any belief to the contrary would have been nothing more than the hopeful dreams of a sad woman and Alia would not let him or anyone think such things about her.

  Telling Kaleb would have been cruel. He would not understand why Alia wanted to see Xander and she did not wish to try and explain her reasoning.

  Only Tomlin was aware of what she was doing and he kept an eye on her from a safe distance. He watched to make sure that Alia did not accidentally pull forth anything unexpected, a malevolent spirit or demon that might do her harm. When attempting to pull a soul out of the underworld a magician always ran the risk of helping something else out instead. Alia was overly cautious in her summoning for that reason and perhaps that was why success had eluded
her, but maybe she was right and her father still lived.

  Alia met Tomlin who fell into step beside her as she passed by the tree he had been lazing against. “It did not go well,” he observed casually.

  “It depends on what you consider ‘well,’” said Alia. “We tried summoning Byrn’s spirit several times last year as well with the same poor result.”

  “Because he was not dead,” Tomlin finished for her, knowing that the implication was that Xander could still be alive too.

  They fell silent as they entered back into the town proper of Sallem, a small town just on the north side of the Blackwood Forest that served as a natural barrier between the kingdom’s northern, western, and southern regions. News of the kingdom army’s victory over the Collective had spread like wildfire across Aurelia and the common people were celebrating with festivals in every city that Alia and her companions came to. Seeing so many people cheering the defeat of her comrades in taverns and even on the streets only served as a reminder of how much magicians were hated, as if she needed one.

  Ryonus was teaching the basics of swordplay to Kaleb out by the stables when the enchanters returned to the cozy inn with a pig on its sign. Since Alia’s proclamation that Kaleb would be Avelice’s protector the boy had thrown himself into his new training as a fighter and seemed to relish every moment of it. Ryonus was an able sword master for a new pupil of the blade and Tomlin saw fit to teach Kaleb his own brand of fighting that involved the ability to size up his opponents as much as any traditional combat techniques. It was a welcome distraction for the men to take their minds off of all they had been through of late as well as what was to come. Alia envied them for that small measure of peace they shared.

  A thrust from Kaleb’s practice sword sailed past Ryonus as the man sidestepped the boy’s sloppy attack, forcing Kaleb to overextend himself and nearly fall forward as he rushed past Ryonus. The magician smacked Kaleb with the flat of his sword on his rear and ensured that he fell, sprawled on his belly.

  “Do not rush,” Ryonus chastised him even as he helped the boy to his feet. “Your attacks need to be measured, calculating. It is not enough to swing your sword wildly and hope to hit your opponent.” Ryonus went on with the lesson and Alia and Tomlin moved on to find Riona watching over Avelice in their rented room.

  “Was she any trouble?” asked Alia as she stood over her daughter. Her hand grazed the top of the girl’s head delicately. Alia smiled warmly as she felt her baby’s soft skin and Avelice smiled back at her. Avelice was sitting up on the floor and could follow her mother around the room with her eyes.

  “She was a darling,” said Riona who did not get up from her seat by the window. Ryonus and Kaleb could be clearly seen from where she sat.

  “He is a handsome man,” Alia smiled with a nod out the window. She was gratified with Riona’s sudden blush that told her she had guessed correctly. “You should talk to him.”

  “We talk all the time,” answered Riona, sounding more defensive that she had intended.

  “But not about your feelings for him,” said Alia.

  “It is obvious to anyone who has eyes,” Tomlin chimed in, reminding the women that he was still in the room.

  “Ignore him,” said Alia, “Ryonus has no idea. He does not have a romantic bone in his body.”

  “Oh, I bet he has at least one romantic bone,” suggested Tomlin and his answer was complete silence from the women. Riona’s faced blushed an even darker shade of red while she stared daggers at him. Tomlin put his hands up in surrender. “I was only joking. This isn’t Antella where women are supposed to behave more… ladylike.” When the women’s brows only grew more furrowed, if that was possible, Tomlin realized his error. “Not that Aurelian women are unladylike. What I mean is that Antellans are more frumpish. By the way, have I mentioned how lovely you both look today? Because you do.” Tomlin flashed that wily smile and Alia was forced to return it despite her irritation.

  “Maybe you should go for a walk,” she told him, trying to sound stern and angry rather than amused and she must have been somewhat successful, because Tomlin hastily agreed.

  Once he left, Alia turned to Riona who said, “Sometimes I wonder what gets into that apprentice of yours.”

  “He is still young- barely seventeen and acts as most young men his age do. It is easy to forget that when you think of all he has done and seen as if that should somehow make him more grown up. He has experienced things that no grown man should be forced to go through and yet he continues on, but at his heart he still has that impulsiveness, that brashness of a young man itching to prove himself to the world.”

  “Old Father used to temper his bravado,” observed Riona. “They used to fight like dogs at times. Has he said anything to you about Skynryd?”

  “Besides confirming that he was dead? No.”

  It was true that the priest and the bard used to tease and mock each other on a nearly constant basis, but that was just the nature of their relationship. Underneath, there was a great respect between the two men who outwardly could not have appeared more opposite.

  “Maybe I should offer to do a summoning for him so that he can say goodbye,” said Riona. It was a kind suggestion, but it made Alia suddenly wary of the necromancer. Why would she offer to summon Skynryd for Tomlin when she had not extended the same thing to Alia with her father? Was it because she knew such an attempt would be futile in Alia’s case, because Xander Necros was still alive?

  However, Alia kept those thoughts safely hidden and simply said, “That would be kind of you, but I would like to make the attempt first. As his master, I owe him that.”

  “Of course,” Riona answered. “I can keep an eye on Avelice for a while longer.”

  “That is very much appreciated,” said Alia, but she suddenly started to feel uneasy about leaving Avelice alone with her, “but I cannot ask you to give up so much of your own time for me. Why don’t you spend some time with Ryonus and send Kaleb back here to watch Avelice?”

  Riona said that she would and when Kaleb arrived a few minutes later Alia sat down with him and told him not to let Avelice out of his sight until she returned. Kaleb agreed.

  It did not take long for Alia to find Tomlin. He was in the common room of the inn making himself the center of attention with his melodious voice and deft lute playing that made everyone turn to watch him. He called it “hiding in plain sight” and though it seemed a risky thing to do, Alia admitted that it was effective. No one would suspect the young man demanding everyone’s attention of being a magician. No, they would be more likely to suspect the loner sitting in the corner as Ryonus was apt to do or the fellow who never comes out of his room except to order food and drink.

  Alia sat at a table near the hearth where Tomlin was seated, making sure that he could plainly see her and took a moment to listen to his song. It was The Fall of Everec recounting the events of the orc attack against the mountain city just before two winters ago. As the ballad goes, the orcs attacked Everec with an overwhelming force and drove most of the citizens out, but through the quick thinking of their leader, a noblewoman by the name of Marian Lightfoot, who also happened to be Byrn’s adoptive mother, the city’s army was able to hold off the invading orcs until Warlord Nightwind’s army in Slivering could arrive and drive them out. It was a great tale of heroism and tragedy as the Lady Marian was felled in the defense of her city at the last battle.

  However the truth of those events was much different. Everec was attacked and the city was besieged. That much was true, but Lady Marian had ordered the city evacuated to save lives before escaping herself. From then on Alia pieced the true events together from the story Byrn told her upon returning to Wolfsbane along with the disgraced orc, Korok’s account. Byrn and Kellen transported into Everec following the Kenzai’s escape from the Collective. Kellen had threatened to kill Alia if Byrn did not do as he asked and so Byrn helped him escape to spare Alia’s life. Upon their arrival in Everec, Byrn and Kellen were taken prisoner b
y the orcs. There they were reunited with Sane, who was also a prisoner and Byrn was going to be put to the torch. However, he managed to escape and drove off the orcs by nearly burning down the city around them.

  It was a week or two later when Byrn and Lady Marian were reunited in Silvering, but it was a short lived reunion as Kellen, who was a supposed friend to Sane betrayed them all and brought the Kenzai down on them. It was during that conflict that Lady Marian was killed, Sane was made a slave, and Byrn was forced to flee to the elven kingdom of Raiden half a world away, but it did not serve the royal agenda to make it known that the orcs were defeated by a magician and that the lady noble who was looked at with admiration for her courage and sacrifice was actually killed by Kenzai hunting her son and so adjustments had to be made to history. For a brief moment she wondered how many other events throughout history had been colored or outright changed to serve the needs of those in power.

  Tomlin sat down at the table across from her as she mused this. He was greeted by a few pats on the back by other patrons and a pleasant smile from a serving woman by the bar. She brought a pitcher of beer along with two mugs. “On the house for your fine performance,” she told Tomlin and leaned in, exposing her cleavage as she poured his mug. “I hope you and your older sister will enjoy it.”

  Alia smiled politely. “That is very generous of you,” she said without correcting her. Instead, she made a mental note of the woman; her name was Silvia and was the daughter of the innkeeper, in case she needed to find Tomlin tonight. His evening would be full.

  “I wish you would not sing that song,” Alia told him once Silvia had left.

  “It was not my first choice,” he admitted, “but someone requested it and it would have drawn the wrong kind of attention for a bard to turn down coin for a song.” To this she could not argue. Then he added, “I look forward to the day when I can sing of what truly happened. Perhaps I will even be the one to write it.”