A New Light (The Astral Wanderer Book 1)
Page 5
“Can you tell what mine does?” the curious boy asked.
Vaust shook his head. “Not without a demonstration. Although I’m sure someone at the order can answer those questions.” He rested the kama against his shoulder. “We could keep talking but I assume you prefer a demonstration?”
Devol’s eyes lit up. “You’re right!” He extended his arm toward the cave and within seconds, the sword that seemed to have chosen him so mysteriously streaked into his hand.
“Impressive Vello control,” the Mori said and tapped the base of his kama. “But I didn’t intend for us to spar.”
“You didn’t?” he asked, having already partially unsheathed the blade.
His companion chuckled. “If you wish to, we can.” He pointed his weapon toward the boy. “But understand that there is a limit to how much I can hold back. Myazma is only so tame.”
“Myazma?” He looked at the kama. “You named your weapon?”
“Technically, I renamed it. The original name was from an old mori tongue and translating it was more along the lines of a poem than a real name. I searched through the common tongue and this seemed more fitting.” He turned the weapon to the side as he and his young opponent locked gazes. “Are you ready?”
Devol held the sword in both hands and drew a deep breath as he assumed a battle stance. Even with Vaust’s warning, the thrill of combat was overtaking him. “When you are.”
The mori nodded, unmoving. “Very well. Come at me.”
His Mana flared and when his Anima enhanced it, he felt stronger and faster than he could have imagined. Common sense reminded him that he should probably steady himself. If he tried to attack without understanding his new power, he could launch himself into one of the rocks in the distance. He lowered slightly and moved his blade to the side before he surged forward and launched himself at his opponent with a challenging shout.
Vaust did not move, but as the boy’s blade swung, he retaliated with his kama. Their blades clashed and Devol stopped several yards behind the mori. He spun, as did his companion, who twirled his weapon casually at his side. With a bewildered frown, he caught a glimmer from his blade. It had seemed like his adversary had merely parried the blow, but when he turned and looked down, his vision blurred slightly. Confused, he shook his head and stared at what looked like a long black mark sliced into his blade.
He paused to examine it. What had happened and how was it possible? It must have come from the mori’s weapon. He held his sword a little higher but his head began to swirl. Was he getting sick? He had been fine a moment before. Then, he began to cough and fell to one knee as he sputtered.
“So, point proven, then?” Vaust called as he examined the boy’s reaction.
Devol grunted and his Mana flared as he pushed to his feet, once again prepared to strike, even with a broken blade. “Neat trick,” he responded. “I don’t suppose you will tell me how you did it?”
“You’ve proven you can be smart,” his adversary pointed out, flipped his kama, and caught it by the handle. “Where would the fun be if I simply spelled it out for you?”
“Then I won’t stop until I work it out,” he declared and surged toward the older Magi.
“Doing the wrong thing repeatedly…” Vaust sighed and readied himself to counter. But before the attack completed, the boy suddenly stopped his charge, slid along the grass, and kicked dirt into his eyes to obscure his vision. Momentarily surprised, he almost missed a bright flash from above as the young swordsman vaulted upward, ready to strike. He leaned back as the weapon arced and the blade narrowly missed his chest.
Startled, he jumped back and scowled at a small cut on the lapel of his jacket. If he had not cut through the other blade, that could have been a clean strike.
“Well done, Devol,” the mori complimented and his eyes widened when the boy barreled toward him.
“I’m not done!” he shouted and prepared to thrust with the blade before another coughing fit slowed his approach.
Vaust almost laughed. He had to concede that the youngster had tenacity, but it was getting late and the point of setting up camp was to rest. “Yes, you are,” he responded, flipped his kama again, and took one step back. The attack slashed at nothing but air and he brought his weapon down on the back of the young swordmaster’s head to knock him into unconsciousness. “For the night at least.”
Devol awoke to birds chirping and the smell of the meadow. He rubbed the back of his head where a dull pain nagged at him as he glanced to where Vaust strode in through the cave entrance. The Magi offered him honeycombs and more berries.
“Good morning.” The older Magi greeted him cheerfully and pointed behind him to where his sword was sheathed not far away. “Don’t forget that.”
The previous night’s events rushed back to him and he sighed and continued to rub his head. “I guess I didn’t win, huh?”
“You did well, especially since it was your first time using Anima and your weapon was slightly damaged.” The man showed him the nick on his jacket as he popped a few red berries into his mouth. “It’s not like you have been trained in how to correctly use a majestic. It is a sword and swordsmanship is important, but it is more than merely a pointy stick.”
“So you won’t tell me what happened?” he asked around some of the honeycomb. “I don’t know what your majestic is able to do but I don’t fall ill like that. I haven’t had to see a doctor in two years.”
“A robust constitution.” His companion selected a few berries and popped them into his mouth. “If you had used a regular weapon or even a lower quality exotic, it would have been rendered useless. Your majestic endured but that doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be ill effects.”
“So that’s a no,” Devol mumbled and retrieved his blade. He unsheathed it halfway and looked for the black mark, but it was no longer there. “So it must have been the power of your majestic, then?”
Vaust poured a little water into his tin cup and sipped it. “An accurate guess,” he remarked. “And no, I won’t explain it yet.”
“Why not?” he asked with an edge of impatience in his tone.
“It’s simple.” He looked the boy dead in the eye. “As I said, all majestics are unique. I’m not saying you will run into another who has one, but should you ever run into an enemy or hostile Magi and are forced to deal with them, do you think they will simply explain the fine points of their abilities?”
A little angry at that response, he ate a few berries and looked away from the mori’s gaze. “I suppose they wouldn’t,” he admitted finally as he chewed.
“Smart boy.” Vaust chuckled. “Neither you nor I know what the future holds. I don’t know if you’ll stay with the Templars or lead a life that brings you into confrontation with other Magi. But if there is even a tiny part in you that is considering it…well, it’s best to be prepared, is it not?”
Devol swallowed his food, sighed, and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll work on it.”
“You should do that for you, not me,” his companion stated, finished his meal, and began to pack. “Come on, we’re a little behind because I let you sleep, but we can still get to Fairwind shortly before noon if we hurry.”
At this announcement, the boy all but inhaled the remainder of the fruits Vaust had brought and packed his belongings. He slid the other end of his blade into the side pocket of his satchel. The mori glanced at him and considered the advice he’d given him. He hoped he’d choose a life where he could use his abilities for good. The life of a Magi was dangerous, but it was better to pursue it and be prepared for it than have it come for you.
And if he was right, the boy would not have much of a choice.
Chapter Five
Devol smiled as the cool breeze blew in from the sea. They were close to their destination and Fairwind already lived up to its name. He and Vaust had covered dozens of yards in seconds and sprinted to the village. He grew ever more excited and briefly surpassed the mori’s speed as they crested a hill.
It was a village not of tall buildings but vast ones. Large storehouses for fish, tools, ship parts, and more to maintain the workflow and valuables of the village stood alongside equally large dock houses for the numerous ships being built, repaired, or coming in with goods for the market. Most of these clustered around the docks, a vast network of buildings where he could see at least a few hundred men and women going about their busy workday.
Behind the docks, a grid-based collection of streets were paved in rough blue, white, and gray cobblestones. Each thoroughfare was lined with tailors, restaurants, blacksmiths, and other shops ready to serve the populace and visitors passing through.
Devol clasped his hands behind his head and continued to admire the view as Vaust walked up beside him. “We made it.” He beamed and looked at his traveling companion. “Do you think we can find something to eat before we go to the order?”
“That would not be a bad idea,” the mori agreed and studied the scene below as he removed the stopper from his gourd. “The seafood is fresh here, and I know of a few restaurants of great repute you would probably enjoy.”
“Sounds good!” the boy exclaimed and scanned the village again in search of buildings that stood out. “So which one of those buildings houses the order?”
“None of them,” his companion stated and drank thirstily. Devol lowered his arms in confusion as he looked at him. The Magi glanced casually at him as he put the gourd away. “Why so surprised?”
“But the map said…and you said…” He fumbled for words and tried to decide if this was a trick or not.
“Ah, yes, the map.” Vaust smiled and placed a finger on his chin. “You might want to have another look at that.”
Devol whipped his satchel off, opened it, and dug the map out. He unfolded it and examined it quickly. “Look at the line—it leads right to Fairwind!” he said, almost shoved the parchment in his companion’s face, and pointed to the emblem marked Fairwind.
The mori took it and turned so they could both study it. “Right up to it,” he corrected and pointed to the line that stopped at the edge of the town. The boy leaned closer to study the mark. Although it seemed to lead to Fairwind, a small divot off to the side of it seemingly pointed to the east of the village. “I considered simply making you search for it to see how long it would take you to realize your mistake.” He folded the map and returned it. “But we’ll already have to waste time as it is.”
“Then…if it’s supposed to be that way…” He turned his head to look at the other side of the hill but saw only a large formation of stones down the slope and much farther in the distance, a large group of trees before the plains stretched on for miles again. “There’s nothing there!”
“At first glance, no,” Vaust agreed and set off down the hill toward the town. “Are you coming?”
“Where are you going?” Devol demanded.
His companion pointed toward the settlement. “Fairwind. I thought you were hungry.”
“I want to find the order first,” the boy stated and turned to walk toward the stones on the other side of the hill.
The older Magi chuckled. “Rather capricious, aren’t you?” He turned to follow the boy, who leapt on top of one of the stones.
A large patch of dirt in the center of the ring of rocks made him even more confused. “Maybe…” he mumbled, slid off the rock and onto the dirt, and dropped to his hands and knees to search.
Vaust walked around the side of the rocks and leaned against one as he watched him scratch around. “What are you doing?”
“There has to be a secret hatch or something, surely?” Devol responded, continuing to test the soil. “I’ll try the forest next, but if it was somewhere in there, the line would have been more obvious.”
“A decent deduction,” the mori admitted and tapped the side of the rock. “And while watching you scrabble in the dirt for an opening that isn’t there might be amusing for a time, it would only be for a very short time. I will tell you that you are in the right place but looking in the wrong area.”
He grunted in annoyance and settled on his knees to glare at his companion before his eyes widened and he peered at the face of the rock Vaust leaned against. The markings were faint, but he could see what appeared to be etchings in the stone. He scrambled to his feet and moved closer to examine them.
They seemed relatively simple—a large circle with three triangles, the heads pointing in different directions, one up, one left, and one right, along with large dots in the spaces between each triangle, and one under it. If there were other markings, he could not see them due to how faded the etchings were.
“It seems you’ve found something most interesting now, Devol,” the older Magi said quietly and startled him when he stepped close beside him.
“Uh, yeah, I assume so.” He traced his fingers along the grooves. “They look like some kind of symbol but I can barely make them out.”
“You wouldn’t be able to see them at all if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve kept your Anima up the whole day,” Vaust told him.
Devol looked incredulously at the mori, then at his hands. Sure enough, his Anima was still present, albeit at a much smaller scale. He had not meant to maintain it but he felt almost no drain on his Mana. It lingered on him almost like a subconscious thought.
His companion folded his arms and looked at him, his expression somber. “I’ll keep this brief as we have another challenge awaiting us. As I explained, the trinity has to do with the control and use of Anima and Mana. Anima naturally enhances one’s abilities, including those that cannot be normally targeted using Vis.” He pointed at his nose. “You seem like a curious boy, Devol. Have you ever tried to increase your senses? Smell, taste, touch, anything like that?”
He nodded. “A few times, I used Vis on my tongue to increase the taste of a roast my mother made but all I accomplished was to bend the fork.” He frowned at the slightly embarrassing story. “I tried other things like increasing my hearing or smell to help at hide and seek but it never worked.”
Vaust nodded. “Using Mana to try to target such pinpoint areas isn’t an easy task, even for experienced Magi, but Anima surrounds the body, internally and externally, and makes this process easier.” He pointed toward the etching. “Focus on those marks. You can barely make them out due to the residual increase in abilities your Anima grants you. Now, increase your Anima and focus on your sight.”
Devol drew a breath, straightened, and looked directly at the symbols as he let his Mana pool in his eyes. In moments, the symbols became clearer like the ages of dust that had made the markings fade began to blow away. As they became more prominent, he could even see faint shimmers surrounding them. “There’s Mana on the symbols!” he cried in surprise.
“Indeed,” the mori confirmed, his arms folded over his chest as he watched him. “This is what is known as an anchor point.”
The boy remained focused on the sigils and the Mana that continued to flow through them. “What are they?”
“It is in the name,” his companion told him, stood in front of the rock, and held a hand out. “Since you told me as much, your familiarity with the other realms is rather limited. But I’m sure you’ve wondered at least once how one travels from one realm to another.” He balled his hand into a fist and placed it at the center of the point, and the symbols began to glow red. “There are a few ways to do it, but anchor points are the most prominent, at least in your realm.”
Devol watched in fascination as the triangle pointing upwards glowed brighter than the others. A faint image appeared above the mori and displayed what appeared to be a city floating above orange clouds. The man began to rotate his fist to the right and the bright glow moved to the
right dot between the triangles. The image changed to an ornate-looking house that stood on a hill of purple grass. “They can also be used to travel to individual dimensions—rifts as some call them—that are created by Magi for their personal use, although most are protected by wards that can only be accessed by them or with their permission.”
Vaust continued to turn his fist and the glow moved to the right triangle. This time, a lone tower appeared, backdropped by a sky of black and dark purple and surrounded by what appeared to be a forest of blackened trees with white lights or leaves covering them. “This leads to my home realm, Avadon.” The mori chuckled and continued to move his fist until it pointed to the single large dot at the bottom.
An image of a large castle appeared, seemingly on top of a mountain or other rocky area. It gleamed white with a large drawbridge drawn up, and fires burned on the tops of two large spires on either side. “And this is the domain of the Templars.”
“This is their hall?” Devol asked with a grin. He had made it. Thoughts raced through his mind. What he would say when he finally met one of the Templars and from there, what would he do? He had come to get help and training, but after that, could there be more?
“It is,” the older Magi stated and moved his fist away from the rock. The picture vanished as the symbols lost their red glow. “I hope you get to see it soon.”
“Wait. What?” the boy shouted and leaned closer to the symbols. “What happened?”
“I closed the gate. It should have been obvious,” Vaust said flatly and strode out of the rock formation.
“But why?” he asked as he followed. “I came here for the order.”
“I’m quite aware,” the mori acknowledged and registered the impatience in the boy, which reminded him how young he was. “Think about it like this. If you and I had not met, how long would it have taken until you noticed your error with the map?” He spun and stared at him. “Would you have been able to decipher the instructions on the side of the map that explained the anchors?”