by Jamie Davis
His tiny pine bough cave might suffice again if he could reinforce it with more branches from other nearby trees and shrubs. He had his daggers. He could cut more and layer them in a lattice that would provide more protection from the wind and snow than the tree itself offered alone.
Climbing out of his shelter, Hal emerged into the snow-covered plain. There was no sign of civilization in any direction. Tildi said the wizard named Ragnar lived up here somewhere but Hal had no clue which direction to go.
It was better to remain here and wait for Tildi and Kay to reach him than to stumble about in search of someone he didn’t know where to begin looking.
Hal set to work on his meager shelter. He drew one of his daggers and saw the pale skin of his hands for the first time in the dim light of the northern sun. They looked almost white, blanched by the cold of any pink to signify warm blood beneath.
He wasn’t cold anymore. The cold resistance spell he maintained still worked and the fingers moved when directed as if they’d never been nearly frozen solid despite their appearance.
Hal shrugged. Whatever was going on, he’d have to go with the flow.
Stumbling through the deep snow, Hal reached another of the scrub pines nearby and began cutting the branches with the thickest boughs of evergreen needles and dragged them back to his shelter.
Brushing back the snow that had drifted up against the base of the tree, Hal layered cut branches over the branches hanging down around the bottom of the tree until he’d formed a cone that surrounded the base of the tree’s trunk.
Satisfied with his work, Hal used the last branch like a broom and brushed the snow back against the lattice of branches until he’d created an artificial drift of snow all around the tree except for a narrow opening through which he could enter his makeshift shelter.
Standing back, Hal nodded to himself. He remembered those survival reality TV shows he and Mona used to watch back home. Hal thought the hosts of those programs would be proud of the work he’d done here.
With shelter taken care of, Hal decided his next task was to find some food.
He thought about digging for roots to eat but decided that would be futile. He didn’t have the slightest idea of where to begin looking and he wouldn’t know an edible root from a poisonous one anyway.
That left hunting.
Hal had seen what looked like tracks atop the powdery snow while he dragged the cut pine branches back to his shelter. He retraced his steps and soon spotted the marks in the snow.
Following the animal tracks, Hal saw they led to a small hole in the rocks against a low hill nearby. Finding a hiding place about ten feet from the hole, Hal crouched down behind a small bush and waited for the creature, whatever it was, to emerge from its den.
Even with his cold resistance spell maintained, sitting still in the snow for an extended period started to sap at his strength. After what had to be two hours of waiting, as the light began to dim with the coming night, Hal’s patience was rewarded.
The first hint of movement at the edge of the burrow drew Hal’s attention right away. A head emerged from the hole as the snow hare searched the surroundings for danger, it’s white fur blending into the snowy background. Hal tightened his grip on the dagger in his hand and froze in place. He’d only get one shot at this.
After sniffing at the air and scanning the surroundings, the rabbit emerged from the burrow and began hopping across the surface of the snow. It retraced its steps from before, taking it past Hal’s hiding place.
It was now or never, Hal knew. In a fluid motion, Hal’s hand drew back and them whipped forward, flinging the dagger at the snow hare as it approached its nearest intersection with his location.
The dagger turned end over end as it flew through the air. The rabbit jerked its head around at the sudden movement, but it was too late to run. The pommel of the dagger struck the creature in the head, knocking it to one side in the snow, stunning it.
Hal drew his other dagger and ran forward from his hiding place, pouncing on the downed rabbit, grabbing it with one hand and plunging the blade into the creature’s neck. A rush of red poured forth, staining the white fur and the surrounding snow with a spray of warm blood.
25 experience points.
The sudden warmth of the life-giving fluid on Hal’s hand felt like it burned when compared to the cold to which he’d become accustomed. He put the rabbit down and scooped up a handful of clean snow, scrubbing the blood from his hands.
The instant he applied the snow to his skin, he felt better. It was as if the cold had become his accustomed medium after his battle to reach the ice magic within himself the night before.
Grabbing the rabbit and retrieving his thrown dagger, Hal returned to his shelter and set to skinning and cleaning the fresh kill. He was not an experienced hunter by any stretch, but he’d seen and assisted the hunting parties while working as a caravan guard on his last visit to Fantasma. He’d learned enough to work out how to get the job done. Soon there was a freshly skinned rabbit hanging from a branch next to the entrance to his shelter.
The furry white pelt was too cut up to by his awkward knife work to be useful so he used it to scoop up the innards he’d removed from the rabbit and buried it all in the snow a few yards away from his shelter.
Hal returned from disposing of the remains of the snow hare just as the sky began to darken to night. The short winter day was nearly over. He’d accomplished a lot in a short time and Hal was pleased with his progress. This night would be much more comfortable than the previous one, he knew. He had a better shelter and food.
All he needed now was a fire to cook his dinner. Hal considered his options. He could try and rub two sticks together like a boy scout, but he had no clue how to do it and suspected he’d waste more time and energy working at it without any return on his investment.
Tildi could start a fire with her magic. He’d seen her light her pipe with a jet of fire from her fingertip on more than one occasion. He didn’t know how it worked and that seemed to be the opposite of the ice magic he was just learning to master.
Hal stopped and thought for a moment. Ice magic was the opposite of fire magic, right? Perhaps there was something to that line of thought.
He knew he needed three things to start a fire. A heat source, fuel, and oxygen.
Fuel he had. The pine sticks and dead needles that lay at the base of all the trees were full of pine sap. It was highly flammable in its dried state.
He drew in a deep breath. Oxygen was no problem.
Now he just needed heat. He couldn’t channel a jet of fire but perhaps he could do something else. It was a crazy idea but maybe he could remove cold to the point that what little heat remained would be enough to start a fire. He was sure the physics of it was impossible, but this was magic, right?
Hal knew he didn’t want to eat raw rabbit, so he had to try.
Quest accepted — start a fire with ice magic
Gathering a pile of dried pine needles and stacking them in a cone shape on the bare earth of a cleared spot near the entrance to his shelter, Hal next took dead pine sticks and crisscrossed them over the cone of needles until he had a small stack of branches over the pile of needles.
Now came the crazy part. Hal sat down in the snow next to the cleared area on the ground and closed his eyes. He focused on the cold, blue flame of the spark of ice magic within himself and invited it to work with him.
Next, he opened his eyes and stared at the stack of sticks and dried pine needles on the ground in front of him. Boring his attention to the center of the pile, Hal used his newfound ability to push the cold out from himself and applied it to the cold collection of needles before him.
Grabbing ahold of the cold at the center of the pile, Hal focused on creating an area where there was no cold, no chill, drawing the cold outward away from the pile of ready fuel. It was like picking up handfuls of loose sand at first. He felt like the cold slip from his magical grasp as fast as he grabbed at it.
Soon, with work and practice, Hal managed to hold on to more and more of the icy cold with his mind and push it away from the pile of sticks in front of him.
Hal stared at the pile as he worked, the intense concentration beading sweat on his brow.
Wait.
Was that a wisp of smoke?
Hal redoubled his efforts, pulling at the cold with all his meager power, drawing as much as he could hold and still grabbing for more.
This time he was sure. There was a small column of smoke, the merest tendril drifting upward from the pile of needles at the base of the cone of sticks surrounding it.
Continuing his magical efforts, Hal leaned forward and gently blew into the base of the cone, lending fresh oxygen to the pile of pine needles. The tiny column of smoke thickened.
Blowing still more air into the center of his would-be campfire, Hal pulled at the last vestiges of cold in the center of the pile of needles.
With a small pop, a lick of yellow flame appeared within the dried pine needles and began to consume the tiny brown needles as the pine resin fueled the fire.
“Fire! Yes!”
Hal laughed aloud and started placing more sticks and small branches around the growing flame while he pulled more cold from the surrounding air. He couldn’t give up now.
With five more minutes of work and coaxing, the small fire grew to the point that Hal felt comfortable releasing his hold on the ice magic. He almost collapsed from the accumulated exertion.
There was no time to succumb to his weariness, though. Reaching out to the small pile of firewood and branches he’d gathered, Hal continued to feed the fire until a satisfying blaze burned there outside his shelter.
Hal smiled to himself. He wouldn’t freeze this night and he’d have fire and hot food to eat. Things were looking up.
Quest completed — start a fire with ice magic.
300 experience points.
Level up!
6
“Ho, the camp.”
Hal stopped plucking the quail he’d killed and peered into the gloomy darkness outside the circle of light from his fire. His free hand dropped to rest on the pommel of a sheathed dagger on his belt.
“Who’s there?”
Three forms materialized out of the shadows, walking into the firelight thrown outward by his campfire. Two were familiar. One was not.
“You said two days, Tildi,” Hal said, returning to plucking the game bird in his hands. “It’s been four.”
“It took us longer to locate Ragnar than expected.”
“What can I say? We’re nomads.” the gruff-voiced, tall newcomer quipped. He towered over Tildi’s short figure next to him. “You must be Hal, my new apprentice. Tildi said you’d be cowering in the cold, half-starved. It seems you’re more resourceful than she let on.”
“Oh, she was mostly right. I almost died that first night, no thanks to her.”
Hal turned his gaze to the third visitor.
“Kay, why didn’t you make Tildi come find me sooner?”
“I tried, Hal. She refused to open a new portal until she’d contacted Ragnar directly. Something about protocol when visiting another mage’s territory.”
Tildi limped over and poked at the campfire with the butt of her staff.
“Stop complaining, boy. You seem to have done pretty well without my help. I’m surprised you managed to get a fire burning. I expected to find you eating grubs and slugs dug from under logs. Here you are with a veritable feast.”
“I figured out enough ice magic without your friend’s teaching to stay warm and start a fire.”
“Oh, really?” Tildi exclaimed. “You started a fire using only ice magic.” She slid a glance sideways at Ragnar. “Can you do such a thing?”
“It’s not easy, Tildi, but yes, it can be done.” The ice mage crouched by the fire and warmed his hands while he concentrated on the center of the blazing logs.
“You used the absence of cold to generate increased molecular activity and enough friction to start a fire. That takes some talent. It’s easier to learn a few simple fire magic spells for use around the camp or home but that takes an experienced mage to shift elemental schools like that.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have that option, so I had to come up with my own version of what you call the hard way to do it. Same result, though.”
Hal finished plucking the bird and added it to the makeshift spit he’d created with two other quail already plucked and dressed out on it. He leaned forward and suspended them over the flames, resting the ends of the spit on two stakes he’d carved and driven into the ground on either side of the campfire.
“Something told me to expect company either tonight or tomorrow morning so I prepared extra food. You’re all welcome to join me. I don’t suppose you brought some bread or cheese with you, though. Some salt would be nice, too. I’m getting tired just having plain meat.”
Kay sat down and dug into her backpack, pulling out a hard loaf of brown bread and a wedge of cheese. She grinned at Hal and tore off a piece from the bread before handing it across the fire to him.
He took it and tore off a piece for himself, then reached for the wedge of cheese. He sliced a slab as thick as his finger free with his dagger and slapped it on the chunk of bread he held.
“Mmmmm, that is just what the doctor ordered,” Hal said taking a bite of the bread and cheese combo. “You know, the one thing I missed most about Tandon was the artisanal cheese I could get from the farmer’s market in the harbor district. There’s nothing like it in the grocery stores where I’m from.”
“Someday, Hal, you’re going to have to take me to your land,” Kay said. “It seems both a strange and wonderful place.”
“It has its pluses and minuses. Most people don’t get left out in the wild to fend for themselves for days on end unless it’s part of a contest on TV.”
Tildi laughed at that statement.
“At least you’ll be ready if you ever want to become a contestant on Survivor, Hal.”
“I’ll pass if you don’t mind. I’m not a fan of extreme camping and this experience hasn’t changed my mind. Besides, I’ve got more important things to do.”
Hal reached into his pocket and pulled out the milky white crystal Tildi gave him that first night.
“Here’s your magic stone, Tildi. I kept it safe for you.”
“What’s this?” Ragnar asked. “You have a scrying crystal, Tildi?”
“It turned up while I was searching through an abandoned tower a few years back. I never needed it until our friend, Hal, turned up. I figure he’s going to need it to locate his family and home in on them when the time comes to initiate a rescue.”
“You think he’s got the power to activate it?” The northern mage growled. “I could have used it on several occasions trying to avoid the Emperor’s mage hunters. You should have given it to me for safe keeping. I’m the ice mage, after all.”
“I think not, Ragnar. You know the stones can become attuned to a particular user. I think it was best to hold it for Hal here. Now that he’s used it to unlock his access to ice magic, it’ll give him access to its full powers once you school him in the use of ice magic’s potential.”
“It takes a spirit mage to use all the powers of a scrying stone, Tildi. There hasn’t been a user of the spirit school for hundreds of years.” Ragnar scowled at Hal. “I suppose our mythical Opponent here is supposed to not only be an Ice Mage in training but a potential Spirit Mage, too?”
“I think Hal will be able to use all the schools equally well. Ice, Earth, Fire, Wind, and Spirit.”
“I don’t have time to learn all of that, Tildi. You told me that Ragnar could teach me to use the scrying crystal to see if my wife and daughter were alright. That’s what I aim to do. Then I can use it to home in on them for the rescue mission.”
“The Emperor is surrounded by powerful wards at all times, boy. Did you think you’d just learn a few parlor tricks, open a portal, and wa
ltz in there with your magical guns blazing?”
“Something like that.”
“Then you’re a fool. The Crystal City’s wards are created by mages from each of the four primary schools. There’s no way to open a portal within a hundred miles of the Emperor’s palace without the wards engaging and frying you before you take one step. The only way is to master the magic of the spirit and that requires you to become schooled in all of the elements. Only then can you hope to rescue your wife and child.”
“So, I’m stuck jumping through hoops you set up for me until I learn what I need to learn? That’s what you’re saying.”
“Stop acting like a spoiled child, Hal,” Tildi berated him and leveled a stern gaze at him. “I didn’t steal your family, but I will help you get them back because the alternative is allowing the Emperor to become so powerful no one will be able to defeat him. We can either work together or die independently. There is no longer any other alternative.”
“Unfortunately, my boy, Tildi is right,” Ragnar added. “We tried working against Kang and his pet mages on our own and it hasn’t worked. All our friends have been killed off one at a time until there are only four of us left. Tildi is the only one who had the vision to find you. Since you’ve been coming to Fantasma, the Emperor has been suffering defeat after defeat. I don’t like it but you’re the key and that means you’ve got some more work to do.”
Hal started to say something in return, but Ragnar held up a hand, forestalling his response.
“I’ll take you on as an apprentice, teaching you what you need to use the crystal to scry your family and watch over them from afar. It’ll take the combined magic of the other three schools to unlock the other attributes of the stone, though. If you can learn to do that, then you might have a chance to access the spirit element. That’s your chance of reaching the Emperor’s palace and getting your wife and child free.”
Hal turned the stick acting as a spit for the quail roasting over the fire. He took another bite of the bread and cheese and considered everything Tildi and Ragnar said. In the end, he turned to his only real friend present for advice.