Fallen Magician (The Magician Rebellion)

by Cornett, Curtis

  Xander stayed behind in the reception area as he mentally read the battle through the shifts and streams of the magic and directed his servants to where they were most needed. Nearly six hours had passed since Colum’s population was annihilated and Xander’s power, which felt almost limitless then, was finally starting to fade. Victory was assured, but he would need to conserve his strength for what he still had left to accomplish.

  ***

  The sun was rising on a new day as Xander emerged from the prison with well over two hundred magicians at his back. Some shielded their eyes from the shining light of day even in the morning hours. Others began to laugh and shout, as their lofty dream of escape became a reality. Most of those laughs were filled with joy or relief, but there were a couple magicians who sounded a bit more maniacal to the ears of Ryonus. It was a feeling that he sadly understood too well. Years of imprisonment and depravation could do strange things to a man’s mind and it was not like every prisoner in Baj was a priest before getting thrown in that hole.

  “In truth, I never expected to see you again,” Ryonus told the grandmaster clasping his hand as the two met beyond the prison’s walls, “It is good to see you still counted with the living.”

  “I would expect more faith from you,” Xander told him, perhaps a bit more roughly than the necromancer had intended due to his exhaustion, because he added, “You are an old friend,” in a kinder tone.

  “Yes, well, we should begin moving everyone to the rallying point,” Ryonus shook a sack filled with hundreds of transportation runes. “Your daughter is probably worrying herself sick over you.”

  “We will go soon enough,” Xander assured him, but he was interrupted by one of the newly freed magicians.

  “Hold on old timer, I am grateful for what you did, but I will go where I please,” said the ragged magician.

  A tentacle lashed out at the magician and stuck him in the chest. He immediately began to gasp for air as Xander sucked his life away. “I was feeling a bit fatigued,” Xander admitted, “thank you for volunteering.”

  The man could only shake in reply.

  “Now, if it pleases you, young sir, would you like to come with me?” Xander asked hotly to which the man could only respond with a full body thrashing and the look of fear in his eyes. “Good,” said Xander amicably before releasing him to fall on the ground, “and welcome to the Collective.” To the other two hundred and some odd magicians, he spoke more loudly, “I offer you a chance to kill those who have hunted you and a chance to rule over those who have subjugated you for all of your lives, or I offer you certain death by my hand here and now. You have about two minutes to make up your mind.” To accent his point Xander flared a ball of dark magic from his staff that extended six feet in diameter above his head. He moved the staff downward in a very slow striking motion in the direction of Baj. The ball of magic just as slowly rolled from the staff as if it was attached to invisible wires. As the ball gently floated toward the prison it began to pick up speed before disappearing within the prison’s walls. The prisoners seemed unsure of what to think, clearly they expected something to happen and when nothing did Ryonus began to feel embarrassed for his old friend, but Xander just stood there with a wry grin. A minute passed with no activity and the freed magicians were beginning to get antsy. It was clear that they wanted to get as far away from this place as possible, but no one wanted to risk the grandmaster’s wrath.

  Suddenly a deafening explosion came from deep within the prison and the exterior walls began to develop large cracks visible even from outside the prison’s walls. An instant later the prison began to collapse inward until nothing remained where Baj once stood except for a smoking pile of rubble.

  When Xander asked the magicians for their decisions not one of them dared try to leave, but Ryonus could not help noticing that the grandmaster seemed a little weary as if all of the energy he stole from the citizens of Colum had finally been expended. It cost ten thousand lives to put an end to the magician prison, but there was some consolation that none of those lives belonged to magicians.

  For better or worse the Collective had made their presence known and did so in what could only be interpreted as a declaration of war.

  Chapter 24

  “Things are spinning out of control much too quickly,” the old man in grey told his younger companion.

  “Yes, the world must be brought back into balance, so that it spins out of control at a much more reasonable pace,” laughed the boy who swung a wooden sword at the air. “Despite what some may think, I don’t want a massacre. There is no glory in mindless slaughter.” He swung his sword again testing its weight.

  They were surrounded in a world of white that felt foreign, but not unpleasant. Byrn watched the two as if he were a fly on a tavern’s common room wall. Who were they?

  The old man looked up and right at Byrn. “We are the Wise,” the old man said.

  “And the Warrior,” finished the boy.

  “And you have made a mess of things,” accused the one calling himself Wise with a pointy finger.

  “Don’t blame him,” Warrior scolded as he swung at an unseen foe, this time behind him. “He is but a weapon; put on the game board by you if I recall, brother. It is not his fault that you failed to properly wield him.”

  “I am not a weapon!” Byrn told them. “Who are you?”

  “See that is the insolence that threw my plans off kilter,” Wise proclaimed, “If he had stayed with his master at the start of all this instead of running back home, then none of this would be happening now.”

  “You knew that was a possibility,” the young one countered though his demeanor seemed to indicate that he was far more interested in his sword work than the old man’s ramblings. “No battle plan ever survives the battlefield.”

  “You are right in a sense, Vailon, and I must admit that my plan for Aurelia was coming together though I would have preferred to avoid the needless bloodshed that has already begun and Kassani’s pet threatens to ‘upset the game board’ as you would say,” Wise finally admitted. To Byrn, he offered his apologies then added, “You need to wake up, son. Aurelia hurtles toward destruction while you nap and lives are in the balance.”

  “I cannot wake,” Byrn pleaded. “I have tried.”

  Wise put his hand on Byrn’s arm reassuring him, “You will wake soon, but first I must show you what has been transpiring, since you began your days long sleep.”

  Visions of death flooded Byrn’s mind. Faces he had not seen in years- Jessec, Anti, even Rallen- writhed in agony as they withered before him and died. Colum was crumbling before his eyes.

  ***

  Byrn woke with a scream on his lips followed by a short fall onto the wooden floor as he rolled out of a bed. It was a dream, he told himself. It had to be a dream.

  “By Waicosson’s great whiskers!” swore the elf, startled from her daydreaming. “You need to knock that racket off. We are in hiding.” Her nose and cheeks were red and two empty pitchers sat on the table in their room. From the décor it looked like they were hiding in an inn.

  Sitting up on the floor, Byrn smiled knowing that if Sari was here, then his mother must be nearby. “I’m glad that Sane and Kellen were able to find you.” He surveyed the room and saw a bone staff, a bow, and a quiver of arrows sitting on the table before the elf. In one corner Kellen’s armor laid empty, but it radiated with stored power so that it shined far brighter than Byrn had ever seen it before. Then, Byrn turned his head and saw his mother. Marian was lying on the bed opposite him. Judging from the sun shining through the window it was midday. “What is wrong with her?”

  “While you slept one of our party, a ranger by the name of Donovan Surefoot, attacked you. Marian threw her body over your own.” Sari suppressed a sob and put on a courageous face, “She thought nothing of her own safety.”

  Magic flowed weakly from and around Marian’s prone body. She lived, but only barely. “She needs a healer.”

  Sari lifted the
pitcher as if expecting to find another gulp and set it back down in defeat. “Sane is working on it. We are not safe here, but we cannot move Marian in her current condition. It was sheer luck that we made it this far with the both of you in tow.”

  “I think you better tell me what is going on,” Byrn suggested not unkindly.

  “After Donovan attacked you, he and his friend Chance fled into the forest and made their way here to Silvering. I should have chased them down as soon as we realized they left the cave, but I did not want to leave Marian and thought they could pose us no further threat.

  “Refugees had been finding their way to Silvering for the better part of a week, so when Donovan and Chance showed up and said they had news of Marian’s whereabouts Warlord Nightwind met with them personally. They brought news of the orcs taking Everec and more. It has become big news that Sane killed one of the Kenzai without reason a few months ago and in so doing has broken ties with the kingdom. He is now a wanted man, so when Donovan and Chance showed up and told the warlord that you and Sane were plotting to kill Prince Janus and put you in place as the next in line for succession Nightwind had no choice except to believe them. Of course, it must have slipped Donovan’s mind to mention that he stabbed your mother.” Sari added sarcastically.

  “Why would Lord Nightwind believe such a crazy story?” Byrn asked incredulously.

  “Well considering that Donovan knew that you were a prince to begin with lent him no small amount of credibility. It also did not hurt that that was exactly what Sane was planning. He didn’t tell you?”

  “It must have slipped his mind,” Byrn gritted his teeth. “Wait, what do you mean I’m a prince?”

  Sari eyed the door nervously, “Keep your voice down. There are other people staying here.” Her eyes shifted back to Byrn, “I’m sorry. I forgot you didn’t know yet. Sane should have been the one to tell you.”

  Byrn counted on his fingers, “Sane, Nightwind, you, and some random rangers. Who else knows of this… absurdity?”

  “Donovan and Chance spread the word to any that would listen and Lord Nightwind basically confirmed the rumor when he declared you an enemy of the kingdom and stripped your title. That means everyone in Silvering, Kellen, of course… Oh, he also told one of your friends in… what was it called? The Collective. So you can assume that they all know. This kind of news travels fast. Everyone in the kingdom will know within a month.”

  Byrn buried his head in his hands. This is utter foolishness. He was no prince. Why would a king give his son up for adoption? Then a thought occurred to him, but before he could give it voice the room’s door opened.

  In one fluid motion Sari was up from her seat with her bow in hand and an arrow notched, pointed at the door. Sane entered raising one hand palm out in a universally accepted symbol that meant “peace” by showing that he was unarmed. The elf relaxed and set her weapon back on the table.

  A green robed priest entered behind the sorcerer. Sane owed him an explanation for much, but Byrn dared not speak freely in front of a stranger.

  “It is good to see you up,” Sane told him as he offered the younger magician a hand off the floor. Byrn’s legs felt a little wobbly after days of inactivity and accepted his elder’s help into a seat at the small table opposite Sari. He cautioned Byrn to silence with a look and turned his attention to the priest who was aghast at the sight of the elven woman in his presence.

  “An elf,” the young priest stammered, “You are the ones the guards are looking for.” He took a step back and was about to run when Sane grabbed the bone staff off the table and placed his other hand on the priest’s arm. “Be at peace, Brother Murph. This is not the elf the guards are looking for. She is not even an elf.”

  Magic passed from Sane into the priest. Byrn wondered that he could never see this before. Magic was all around them. It was in all things to one degree or another. Murph laughed as he looked at Sari again, “My pardon, dear lady. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “No worries,” Sari replied casually, “You are not the first to gaze upon my lithe frame and mistake me for one of those mysterious beauties.” Sari stretched her arms over her head in such a fashion that it accentuated her breasts causing the priest’s face to turn a deep red.

  “Yes… well,” was all he managed to get out before Sane directed him to Marian who lay on her belly. Her tunic was blood stained at the lower back and the priest lifted the shirt and gently removed the bandage. He examined the wound carefully, “Fine bandaging,” he mumbled.

  “Thank you,” said Sari, but Murph appeared not to notice with his attention fully on his patient.

  “She is lucky to be alive,” Murph told them. He lifted his staff and held it horizontally over Marian, “Blessed Mother, grant me the strength to help this woman. May your grace and love sustain her and make her whole.” Healing energies flowed from the priest into his staff and trickled over Marian falling like drops of rain. However, it was evident that Murph did not understand that the magic was coming from him and not from the goddess of life, so he was not trying to push his energy into his patient. The end result was some minor healing. This is what Skynryd meant when he would talk about healing magic not being a gift from the goddess and this was the secret to Skynryd’s awesome healing talents. He understood that priests were just another form of magic user and that healing was a discipline just like elementalism or manipulation. The healing energy started to pool around the injury and fill it. The effects were too small to see with the naked eye, but Byrn thought that he could sense the body stitching itself back together. Marian’s eyes fluttered for a moment and then opened groggily; Murph withdrew his staff and let out a sigh. “She will need another healing session soon,” he told the group and extended his hand expectantly to which Sane was prompt to put a few silvers in and make arrangements for the priest to come back in a day.

  Sane was about to show Murph out when Byrn stopped to shake the priest’s hand. “I can’t imagine what it must feel like to feel the goddess’ energy pass through you,” Byrn probed.

  “It is a true blessing,” Murph told him, “to feel her serenity and pass it on to another. There is no greater peace than to feel her love.”

  Once the priest was gone, Marian spoke softly, “Byrn,” was all she said as a smile covered her face before falling back into unconsciousness.

  “Lend me your staff,” Byrn told Sane. It was not a request. Sane hesitated and Byrn reminded him, “I no longer need a device to wield magic, but it would be helpful to have greater focus for what I plan.”

  “And that is…?”

  “Healing magic,” Byrn answered. The sorcerer looked shocked, and Byrn added, “When I became the fire beast I had a breakthrough in my understanding of how we use magic. I can even see the flow of magic around us when I have a mind to. I will explain later, but for now hand me the staff.” Sane handed it over with some mild misgivings. Byrn took a stance over his mother similar to the one Murph had taken. He centered his mind until he reached a state of calm and feeling of complete peace as Brother Murph had described. Then Byrn focused his energy into the staff and pushed the magic down into Marian. The prayer that Murph had spoken was not necessary. Byrn understood it for what it was. All the magic words, symbols, and artifacts were just ways for magicians to focus their minds and energies. Any spell could be cast with enough power and firm concentration.

  The wound began to stitch itself back together before their eyes so that within a minute the only trace of the stabbing was a light scar. This time when Marian opened her eyes she was able to sit up as if nothing had happened. She reached at the small of her back and felt the faint scar. “Thank you,” she said to Byrn who sat on the bed beside her. “I missed you,” she added as if Byrn had been away on a trading route rather than fighting his way through Kenzai assassins and orcs since they last spoke.

  He hugged her and simply said, “I missed you too,” as if that was all that needed to be said between them and maybe it was.


  Sane went down to the common room of the inn to order some food for the group and came back not long after. “We have much to discuss,” he told them when he got back. “First of all, I would like to know what happened in Everec,” he said to Byrn wishing to know about the fire golem.

  “Fair enough,” Byrn agreed, “but when we are done, we will discuss my sudden status as a prince.” Sane looked surprised and glanced at Sari who nodded to that and Byrn began his story beginning with the burning at the stake.

  “I struggled against my restraints as the orcs surrounding me laughed and cheered at my impending demise,” he told them, “The fire grew higher and threatened to consume me. It licked at my boots and climbed up my pants until I was consumed.” Marian sucked in a breath unconsciously and Byrn took her hand in his before continuing, “Then something miraculous occurred and I realized I felt no pain and no heat from the flames. As my skill with fire improved over time, I had noticed that I built up a resistance to fire magic and was completely unaffected by my own spells. I also learned to control flames that were not of my own making like when I battled Mantellus and sent his own fire back at him, but it was only once I saw those flames surrounding me and knew they could do me no harm that I began to understand that they were connected to me in some unseen way.

  “The blaze raged around me, but I did not call out. The irony of the situation was that although the burning pyre would not harm me, once it died down the orcs would see that I still lived and would spear me through the chest. So I began reaching out for the fire. It was utter foolishness, because I knew nothing would happen without a staff or grimoire to focus my magic, but I did it anyway. I concentrated harder and harder and called to the flames to heed my summons with no effect. Then I heard the sounds of battle. It was you and Kellen,” he said to Sane, “fighting through the orc horde hoping to make it to me. The flames were up over my head by that point, but I could see you casting elemental spells as you tried to come for me. Then I could see the magic itself as it flowed from you and manifested in the forms of your spells. In that moment, it all came together and I understood that magic imbued the earth. It was in all things living, dead, and otherwise. All I had to do was reach out and it would answer me, nourish me, and bend to my will.