Forgotten Mage

by D. W. Jackson

  “What about the Brotherhood fighters? Their swords absorb magic, so it’s not as if I could beat them with magic alone,” Bren replied quickly and curtly.

  Your father beat many of them before without the use of a sword. In truth, if he had used his magic more, and his sword less, he most likely would have taken far less damage on the battlefield. It was his lack of composure and the fact that he made the same mistakes over and over again that was his downfall. At least you seem to learn from your mistakes, but whether you will act on that knowledge or simply react will be determined when you don’t have the time to think.

  “Would you please stop compering everything about me to my father?” Bren asked angrily. “I am not Thaddeus Torin, I am Bren Farlane and happy to be so.”

  Why should you care who you are compared to. It is a fact of life that everyone will compare you to others, whether you wish them to or not. If you don’t like it, strive to be better so that others are compared to you and not the other way around.

  “I shouldn’t have to be the best. I should only have to be me,” Bren mumbled to himself, though he was sure that Thuraman still heard.

  As Bren readied for the night, a knock came at his door that was quickly answered by Flynn, his sword at the ready. As the portal swung open, it revealed Jacob, as well as more than a dozen other older soldiers who Bren had not remembered seeing before.

  “Bren, I need to have a word with you…alone,” the Weapons Master said loudly, his eyes pointedly lingering on Flynn. “Now,” Jacob said, and both guards rushed from the room, shutting the door firmly behind them.

  “Is there a problem Weapons Master?” Bren asked, slightly shake from Jacob’s abrupt entry into his quarters.

  “Not so much a problem, but a solution that you could help me with. It seems as if Sae-Thae has left. I just returned from his quarters to find that he has left on an urgent errand. Worst possible timing if you ask me. I don’t think there is anything so important that it couldn’t wait until things settle down first, but that is beside the point. Sae-Thae requested that I bring in extra guards and soldiers to patrol the Tower and city until everything is deemed safe, but without him here it to sign the papers, agreeing to the temporary increase of men will look bad to the council members.”

  “I can see that, but how am I supposed to help?” Bren asked confused.

  “Boy, you aren’t the sort to catch on quickly are you?” Jacob said, rubbing his hand across the top of his head. “By legal rights, you are of age and also the king or title holder of this land. Just because you haven’t exercised that right before, doesn’t mean it does not exist. I need you to sign the documents, otherwise I will be fighting with master Carnear until Sae-Thae returns.”

  Bren took the stack of papers and sat down at the small desk in the corner of his room. Pulling out a nearly empty ink bottle and an iron quill that was once his fathers, he picked up the first of the papers. He had spent enough time around his mother to know, you never sign your name to anything unless you have read it thoroughly.

  “I don’t mean to rush you, but I do have other tasks at hand,” Jacob said, tapping his foot.

  “Weapons Master, if you were to order me to run around the entire city, I would do so without a second thought, but signing a piece of paper, while seemingly easy, must be taken with great care. One wrong word, and I might accidently sign over the title of these lands to your king,” Bren said, turning his attention back to the task at hand.

  “That is why I could never be a war master,” Jacob said, chuckling to himself. “Having to deal with all those contracts with the lords and ladies. I am much better suited to swinging my sword than dealing with all this second guessing and political maneuvering.”

  “My mother always said that the most dangerous battlefields are the ones where no swords are held,” Bren said, signing his name to the first sheet, allowing the Katanga forces of no more than ten full entry into the Tower for half a season.

  “I don’t know if that is true, but I will concede that it is the most confusing of battles,” Jacob said, his foot still tapping impatiently.

  The other three papers had the names of the new people brought in, and an estimated time that they would be allowed within the city. Bren was surprised to see that only five full Katanaga members were previously allowed within the city as guards before. He had thought that with the academy present, many more would be available. The papers allowed for twenty-five more to be brought in, though it gave a specific date as to when it would revert back to the previous number. Seeing that it was only a temporary increase, and that it was given an end date, Bren signed the papers and handed them back to Jacob.

  “I don’t know if they will be accepted, but I will stand by my decision to let them help out in defense of the Tower,” Bren said confidently.

  “Just remember that if anyone questions your authority, always act like you have more than they do,” Jacob said with a smile. “It has always worked for me.”

  “I will remember that,” Bren said as Jacob opened the door, leaving along with his group of Katanga warriors.

  As Bren watched them leave, he watched the warriors closely. They looked like any other soldier he had seen, except none of them wore a uniform. The only way that one could tell they were all of the same group was that each wore a red piece of cloth tied somewhere on their body. “Looks can be deceiving,” Bren whispered to himself, knowing that in a fight the Katanaga were one of the fiercest group of warriors that men had, even the vathari praised their skill in battle.

  “What did the Weapons Master wish to see you about?” Flynn asked, his voice sharp and unpleasant.

  “It was a private matter. I am sure that if he wished you to know about it, then he would have allowed you to stay in the room when we discussed it,” Bren said pithily. He knew that it was uncouth to use something so small as a way to bother someone, but he was tired of Flynn’s attitude. The boy had a hard life, many do, but Bren did not see how the fact that he was born a prince should make it his fault. He was tired of people blaming him for things outside of his control.

  Feeling a little better about himself, Bren kicked off his boots and jumped on the bed. It felt a lot better, not to care about every little thing. He didn’t know how much he had really burdened himself with until he let it go. It was a very refreshing feeling.

  That night, as Bren slept, he felt himself being pulled again by his mother. He had never truly understood how she had done it before, but after weeks of working with Master Carnear, he could see the lines of magic pulling at him.

  It surprised him that his mother could use the darkness element, though knowing her it shouldn’t have surprised him. She must have been an internal magic user, though using it to pull someone else into your dream seemed more like it was external. Bren guessed that it might have been one of the special cases that some of the masters had talked about.

  Bren didn’t know why they separated magic into different categories. There were more than a few special cases outside of them. It was like saying there was only a right and left unless there is a middle. Bren just found it foolish, but then again he wasn’t one of the masters.

  After thinking for a bit, Bren let his mother pull at him. As the darkness cleared, he found himself in his own room back at the palace. His mother sat on the corner of his bed, holding a small light green blanket that he had used when he was a small child.

  “You were your father’s pride and joy when you were born. I had always feared that Thad would leave one day and go on another journey far away, but once you were born, that fear disappeared. He loved you so much,” Maria said, her voice trailing off.

  Bren walked up behind his mother, wrapping his arms around her neck as he bent down so his chin rested on her shoulder. “You never talk much about father,” Bren said softly.

  “What could I say,” Maria replied. “Ever since I first saw him, I didn’t think of anyone else. Just thinking about him now, makes my heart race and ache at t
he same time.”

  Maria lifted up his hand and gave his palm a kiss. “I know I was never the best mother…I just didn’t want you to end up like your father. He was always so impulsive, rushing into danger head first, never thinking that he could get others to do the same thing.”

  “I am not my father,” Bren said, pulling back from his mother.

  “I know that…It’s just, a mother will always fear the worst. It might not be fair, but I will keep you safe…even if it must cost me your love,” Maria said firmly.

  “Mother, I will always love you, but I won’t let you make me a prisoner just because something might happen,” Bren said firmly, as he started to push at the corners of the dream.

  As the darkness rolled in, pulling him back to his own dream, he could hear his mother yelling at him. She never was the kind to wail, no she was commanding even when she was sad.

  The next morning, Bren woke to find that Avalanche had made her way back to his room and was lying at the edge of his bed. When he was young, she would often try and get on the bed. After the first few broke, she learned it was best to stay on the floor. “How did you get in?” Bren asked as he patted the top of Avalanche’s head.

  “She nearly beat down the door to get in,” Flynn said, his voice sounding none too pleased. “When we did let her in, I thought she was going to rip us apart. How you slept through it, I don’t know. I swear if a war ever happened, let us hope you are not asleep, you would miss the entire thing.”

  Bren looked at Flynn to see that the man had a large bruise forming on the side of his head, and his left eye was starting to darken and swell. “When you grow up around her, you learn to sleep heavily, or not at all,” Bren replied, though honestly, he didn’t know how he had slept through the commotion. His best guess was that he was in his mother’s dream world when it occurred.

  “Be that as it may, you need to learn to sleep lighter, otherwise you might find yourself sleeping forever,” Flynn said, the ire evident in his voice.

  Bren patted Avalanche on the head and whispered a soft “good girl” in her ear before stepping out of bed.

  “I think we should head to the training ground a bit early today. If possible, I would like to get something to eat other than a tasteless bar. Also, I would like to take a bath without feeling as if I had to kick out half the Tower to enjoy myself,” Bren said, grabbing and buckling on his sword.

  “I would be more than happy to go to the training ground, at least there I don’t have to deal with a pampered prince. When we get there, I get the pleasure of beating him senseless, though I doubt you had much sense to begin with, so it’s not a very demanding task.”

  Bren gave Flynn as tight smile. “I might have been born a prince, but at least I was not born an ass,” Bren replied as he walked out of the door.

  As soon as he stepped outside, Bren could see the difference in the Tower. Each floor now had a Katanaga soldier patrolling, with a few tower guards walking about too. From the looks on the mages who were awake, they were not too pleased with the change as the Katanaga searched everyone without care for status.

  Sighing, Bren knew that this couldn’t last long, otherwise there would be hundreds of mages willing to use their power to rip apart the very stones to find the people responsible for destroying their peaceful lives.

  CHAPTER XXII

  Bren found that even sparing beat the hours spent in his room. He might have earned a few bruises, but that was better than staring at the same four walls all day. Avalanche was also enjoying her time at the training grounds, as the Weapons Master ordered four trainees to “play,” with her. Try as they might, they quickly learned that there were some thing you just could not best with a sword.

  When it was about time for Bren return to the Tower, Jacob called him into his office. Bren had only been there a few times before, but found it oddly relaxing. There wasn’t much in the way of embellishments inside, just a simple oak desk and a few solid wooden chairs that hurt to sit in for very long. It was that quaint nature, which put Bren’s mind at ease.

  “Is something the matter Weapons Master?” Bren asked as the door closed behind him.

  “There might just be,” Jacob said, pacing back and forth. “One of my friends within the council have let me know that they are not too happy with you signing the papers for the increase in forces. It would seem that they will be calling you to the council chambers to talk to you about it.”

  “I don’t see why the council should have a problem. Master Carnear is the one holding Master Sae-Thae’s spot at the moment, if anyone had a problem it should be her.”

  “You don’t know how the city works since your father disappeared do you?”

  “What do you mean?” Bren asked, his interest piqued.

  “Dang boy, I thought you had better eyes than that. Have you even taken a walk around the city?”

  “I have been to the market a little, but haven’t really had the time between training and the Tower to explore the entire city.”

  “I would suggest that you take a walk, instead of returning to the Tower right away. I think you would find the experience very….enlightening,” Jacob said in the same infuriating way that his mother did when she wanted him to figure out something for himself that would have been easier just told.

  “I will do just that, Weapons Master…Any other advice?” Bren asked as he reached for the door.

  “I would suggest that you take the time to think of why your father created this little haven while you are about the town,” Jacob replied in a dismissive tone.

  After picking up his escorts, who were putting up their training gear, Bren headed into the town. As he walked down the narrow and mostly empty street, Bren took a closer look than he had the previous days. “Where are all the non-humans?” Bren asked, after less than a half hour of walking around the shops.

  “Why would there be any non-humans on this side of town?” Flynn asked in retort, as if the answer was simple. “They all stay on the eastern side of the city.”

  “Why are they separated?” Bren asked confused.

  “How in the nine hells am I supposed to know,” Flynn replied annoyed. “They just are, and have been for as long as I have been in the city.”

  Bren turned down one of the large side roads and headed toward the east side of town. It didn’t take long before he started to see the changes in his surroundings. The roads went from smooth cobblestone and brick to dirt with only a smattering of stones to keep your feet from slipping in the mud. The houses went from those made of stone and mortar, to quickly degrading houses made of wood with thatch roofs, most of which looked as if they wouldn’t keep a soft drizzle out of the house.

  Seeing a house that was situated at the edge of the town with a large field behind it, Bren became curious. He was more than a little nervous as he knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

  A golden skinned elf with silver hair and rounded ears opened the door and looked down at him. “Can I help you, sir?” The elf asked in a polite, servile manner.

  “I hope I am not bothering you,” Bren said in the way of an apology. “I was just wondering what you do within the city.”

  “Sir, I farm the small field allotted to me by the council,” the elf replied proudly.

  “Would you mind telling me how that works?” Bren asked in a subdued manner.

  “Well sir, we have a little over two acres that we tend. We grow wheat mainly, I am really good with wheat. After harvest, we get to keep ten percent of what was grown. We sell most of it at the market, but a lot of it we trade to other farmers for goods.”

  Ten percent, that was all. Bren knew that his mother kept share croppers to work many of the fields outside of the capital, but they were each given sixty percent unless there was a shortage. Even then, it never went below forty. “Do the human share croppers get the same deal?” Bren asked, mildly infuriated.

  “Well sir, I don’t talk much to the human farmers,” the elf hedged.


  “Jerien, you know good and well that the humans don’t have to share the bulk of their crop,” A much smaller female said, pushing past the male elf. “You want to know the truth boy, whoever you are. It is that we don’t get a quarter the same treatment as the humans. That council up in the Tower could care less if we were here at all. I bet they would like it much better if we all packed up and headed back to our little isle, but as bad as things are, at least here we aren’t treated as slaves, though it isn’t much better.”

  “My apologies miss,’ Bren said, bowing to hide his embarrassment. “I am Bren Farlane, I didn’t know that things were so bad.”

  “Farlane,” The woman said as the blood drained from her face. “Master Torin’s son? I didn’t mean no disrespect sir…” she continued as tears began to tease at her metallic eyes.

  “And none was taken…My father left me the job of protecting this place. It seems as if I had not been up to task,” Bren said in disgust.

  “You’re still just a boy, we can’t fault you for what the council has done in your father’s absence.”

  The fact that the elven woman was trying to comfort him made everything seem worse. Why had the council treated the elves and other magical races as if they were nothing more than waste to be tossed aside and abused at will?

  As Bren walked away from the small house, he didn’t know what to say or think. It went against everything that he thought the city of magic stood for. It certainly went against everything that his mother had taught him.

  “From the look on your face, I would say that you didn’t enjoy your visit with the lower class,” Flynn said in a mocking tone.

  Unable to stand Flynn’s self-righteous tone anymore, Bren grabbed the fighter by the collar and yanked him to the ground. Not suspecting the attack, Flynn had no chance to block the throw, nor the blows that followed.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Flynn asked, kicking Bren off of him.

  “I want to ask you the same question,” Bren said angrily, as he picked himself off the ground his fists still clutched at his side. “I understand that you don’t like me, but I am tired of having to listen to you…Next time that you think about talking, I might just remember my title and have you drawn and quartered.”