Ardeen, Volume 1: The Circle of Magic

by Sigrid Kraft

  “Don’t speak it out loud. If you aren’t right yet, you don’t want to put ideas into anyone’s head if they’re listening. Come on, let’s start.”

  Eryn didn’t manage it on that day or the next, but then it worked. Five bewitched shields stood ready to use in the finished corner, and so Harkon kept his promise and taught Eryn the copy spell. It wasn’t difficult when you knew how it was done. Also, Eryn had become more skilled and was now much faster at understanding new spells.

  If you get a feeling for how to activate the veins, to connect them and administer the dosage, then you only need the composition of the spell. At least, that’s how it works for simple spells and luckily, the copy spell is one of them. Haha, this is a very useful piece of magic.

  Then Harkon granted another favor, as he had promised. With one wave of his hand, he wiped the ink stains from Eryn’s notes, for which the recruit was deeply grateful. In this way, his trust in Harkon grew, and he asked him more questions, questions which Master Lionas would never answer. On several occasions, Harkon also told him that a certain spell was too difficult, but at one time or another, he showed Eryn at least something. By this time, they had increased the production of the shields to ten. Once they had finished the shields, it was not the helmets they now had to work on but some crystals.

  Because of their structure, crystals are particularly well-suited for recording spells. Harkon had explained to him.

  Eryn was getting along well with his roommates Deren and Farat, but his relationship with Ravenor was still strained, even if it was no longer openly hostile. So, life continued in this way, until one particular day, when Harkon and Eryn met as usual to bewitch crystals. First, Harkon sent Eryn to the shelf to fetch a new casket, then said: “Assure yourself it is the right one. The small casket with the red label. Better open it and look inside to make sure.”

  Harkon has a tendency to be too cautious. A nitpicker. Everything has to be controlled thrice.

  Eryn walked the few steps to the shelf and found the casket at once.

  Well then, I’ll open it to be certain that the right gems are inside so that Harkon has his peace of mind.

  He opened the lid and was dazzled by a bright green light.

  “Don’t turn away. Only that way can we talk,” a voice spoke out of the glow, and it took a moment until Eryn worked out it was Harkon talking to him.

  “Why?” Eryn asked, still staring into the light.

  “Listen! But don’t turn your eyes away! I can help you with your hand... in due course. Without my help, it could easily take you five years or more till you are able to cast such a difficult spell yourself. But as you know, the Prince has strictly forbidden anyone to help you, so it would be much better if you don’t know that you have received assistance. The Prince can read memories effortlessly and he absolutely loathes having his orders disobeyed. If he finds out, things could turn out pretty bad for me. You understand?”

  “And what is this green light for? I’m already almost blind.”

  “It is a special spell to outsource your memories. This conversation will be captured in a green crystal and won’t be found in your memory. As long as you don’t turn your glance away for more than half a second, it’ll work. A brief blink is of no significance, but you shouldn’t shut your eyes for longer. When you close the casket again, you won’t remember anything of our talk. But now listen, here is my offer: You help me to bewitch a crystal with the vein of gold, and when enough time has elapsed for you to learn some more spells to make it believable, I will help you to get a new hand. What do you say?”

  So, Harkon is playing games of his own. “What do you need the Circle of Gold for?”

  “There are some books that can only be opened with the Circle of Gold. The masters have artifacts which they use for that purpose, and they don’t wish scholars to gain access to the knowledge. But I – like you – don’t want to wait several years. If I were rich, I could buy such an artifact.

  They sell a number of artifacts on the market. But I’m rather poor, you see, and there lies the problem.”

  Oh, I would never have believed that the unassuming Harkon is capable of such a plot. Always so closed up, and now he is pouring forth like an open book. “So did I get this right? I help you to bewitch a crystal and then have to rely on your honesty to help me with my hand sometime in the future? Something I’ll forget about immediately when this casket closes again?”

  “Yes, you could put it that way. Trust me and you can only win. But I have to be very careful. If I’m discovered, then I have to reckon with severe penalties. I am violating a number of regulations by doing this.”

  Eryn considered: Can I trust Harkon enough or will he use my help for the bewitching and then forget about the rest? Why is Harkon concerned about my hand anyway? But I know him to be always helpful and rather caring.

  “Well, we have a deal. What should I do?”

  “It isn’t difficult. You know already how to yield the vein of orange in a healing process?”

  Eryn agreed with a terse “Yes.”

  Harkon went on: “Basically it’s the same. You open the access to the crystal and with the Circle of Gold, you drop a little of the essence into it. After that I close the crystal and then we are done.”

  “Hmm, sounds easy.”

  “It is easy. The only thing you have to take care of is not to turn your eyes from the green light. I will now put the crystal into your hand.”

  Eryn felt the edges of the gem and closed his fingers around it. He had used his vein of gold so many times in this manner that it was no real problem now. Then he let some drops of his essence flow, which was an easy enough request to comply with, too.

  What kind of books are they that Harkon is so interested in?

  “So, all done. I won’t disappoint you when the time is right.

  If you close the casket now, a book in the lowermost shelf will catch your eye. Someone has placed it there. Once I have left, your interest will cause you to open the book. A fine opportunity to practice the copy spell...”

  “Astonishing how life is full of coincidences...” Will I later really remember nothing? Eryn wondered, as he shut the casket.

  “Harkon, the casket is empty. It must be one of the other boxes.”

  “Then, look in the casket with the green lid. I thought there were some crystals left in the other casket; seems I was wrong.”

  Eryn searched for the green-capped box. All kinds of things were on the shelf. Boxes of all shapes and sizes, most of them labeled with information about their contents. Marble, granite, gold dust, loam... Among them stood some books. ‘The Circle of Gray’, ‘Metal Detection’, ‘Blacksmith Magic’, ‘Crystal Spells’, ‘Basics of Magic’ and several other volumes. Finally, Eryn found what he was looking for. Whoever put it down there on the lowest shelf?

  Next to it, leaned a book: ‘Copy spells of Healing Magic’

  The book immediately caught Eryn’s attention. Besides helping to bewitch things, he had most magical knowledge in the area of healing magic. That’s interesting! Perhaps I can take a look at it later.

  “Have you found the crystals?” Harkon called impatiently.

  Eryn hurried to fetch the box. “Yes, it was right down at the bottom. This shelf here is a real mess... as far as I can tell.”

  They bewitched the crystals and at last Harkon said: “I have to leave earlier today. It might be a good idea if you sorted the shelves for the rest of the time. Crystal next to crystal, then the metals, stones and earth, and last, other stuff and the books all separately. In alphabetical order – that goes without saying.”

  That command didn’t come so inopportunely. Ha! Exactly the right job for me to take a closer look at that book. And if Harkon is gone – who is there to prevent me from doing so?

  A few moments later, Eryn held the work ‘Copy spells of Healing magic’ in his hands. The book was covered with a layer of dust. It must have been lying there forgotten for quite a while. Fasci
nated, Eryn opened the first page and began to read. It began with a detailed description of how to copy parts of the body in little slices, mirroring them if necessary. Another method, then, to fulfill Eryn’s deepest longing. At first, the material sounded quite simple but then it became rather difficult, as a number of hitches and problems were pointed out. Nevertheless, Eryn copied the pages on to some sheets of paper he had also found while tidying up. Then he put the notes in his pocket and took them with him.

  Some weeks went by without anything of significance happening: The usual routine, in fact. Then, a team competition was announced, creating a lot of excitement among the men. A team was always made up of the men from a dormitory. They were supposed to compete against each other in running, marching across country, weapon exercises and a special obstacle course. Running and marching cross country was a near draw between the groups. But then they had to do the special run, and Eryn’s dormitory quickly fell behind as they had to omit the obstacles, all because of Eryn’s missing right hand, which led to them losing a great many points. After that, the weapon competition started, which wasn’t much better. Throwing spears left-handed was manageable for Eryn but the sword fights were a complete disaster, and even Ravenor’s extraordinary performance couldn’t change the final result. In the end, their team suffered a resounding defeat.

  Back at the barracks, Ravenor was in a foul mood because they had lost and it was Eryn’s fault, and Eryn was angry because Ravenor was right and his missing hand rankled enormously.

  The following day, Eryn was spared from his duties for some hours to give him time for his studies. Master Lionas had assigned him plenty of exercises, but Eryn’s thoughts were entirely taken up with his mutilation and how the missing hand had made them lose the competition so badly. This triggered a dangerous and unreasonable train of thoughts.

  I could try out a hand-regrowing spell. I’d begin with the growth of some skin – just to see if it works. In the end, the process is similar to closing wounds, just a little bit more intense. And then I have to connect the main vein... well, if I could at least manage up to that point. That would bring me a good way ahead. And isn’t it the same as everything else? Practice makes perfect?

  Eryn lay back on his bed and brought his breath down to a relaxed state. With his inner eye, he searched for the stump, and examined veins, nerves and bones. He had done this several times before, and now he slowly opened the vein of orange, the basic circle of healing and of Silver for the spirit, and wove them together to numb the stump. Next, he cast a growing spell, and new skin did indeed start to grow.

  I have to elongate the blood vessels. Eryn opened a vessel. Meanwhile the skin, which was supposed to spread into five sections to form the fingers, was already too long.

  I have to stop it! The unintended thought destroyed his concentration. Eryn felt a sudden stabbing pain in his heart and was so terrified that he accidentally raised the dose for numbing far too high, which made the numbing spell turn into a paralysis spell. Eryn had successfully bewitched himself into a coma.

  Three hours later, Eryn’s roommates slammed the door open on their way back from hard drill exercises. It was annoying to see Eryn sleeping on the bed.

  “Look at that! Falls asleep doing nothing,” Ravenor commentated spitefully at seeing the scene.

  They ignored Eryn in his – as they thought – laziness. But later on, when they got up to eat some food, they realized that something was very wrong. Even shaking Eryn violently didn’t wake him. Deren ran to fetch Sir Galden, and the officer immediately sent for Master Lionas.

  Back at the quarters, Master Lionas understood the situation immediately. He sent the others out of the room and then he started to restore Eryn back to consciousness. The young man opened his eyes and found himself looking straight into Master Lionas’ angry face. If truth be told, he had never seen the healing mage so incensed before. It didn’t take long until the mage launched into a proper dressing down.

  “How could you be so senseless, Eryn?! The outcome of your feeble attempt could have been much worse. Impatience and ignorance are the worst enemies of magic. I hope this is a warning to you. And please believe me, I’ll tell you when the time has truly come for you to be able to cast such difficult spells.” Master Lionas’ extended finger was held out threateningly inches from Eryn’s face.

  “Obviously you are under-worked, so I’d better see to it that you have more duties to carry out. Another two hours’ service a day at the mages will certainly be helpful for ridding your mind of such nonsense. I’m sure we’ll find some suitable work for you. You can do service at the hospital ward or help out at the bewitching.”

  Master Lionas finally left, and Eryn looked sadly at the result of his poor magical attempt. He had grown two tentacles each of the thickness of a finger. These appendages hung lifelessly off his arm-stump. A sad imitation of a hand. With bitterness he had to admit: Years. It will take me years. Half my life I’ll be a cripple. Not exactly the brightest of prospects.

  Since Eryn had been in the Guard quite a while now, he had found out when he could do sloppy work or play for time and when not. And because of his special talent with the Circle of Gold, he often helped the scholar Harkon to bewitch something, which meant he also often had business in the mages’ stores. Fetching something, putting other things back again, cleaning up and sorting things out were his usual tasks. Going from one building to another, he passed the archers’ yard, which still held a certain fascination for him as he himself had been pretty good with the bow. At least before his hand was cut off. So he often stopped by for a little while to watch the other recruits practicing. Some of the men could handle a bow rather well, but none among the fresh recruits. Ravenor, for example, really hated the bow. He called it a weapon for cowards. But Eryn guessed that Ravenor’s animosity was grounded in the fact that he was pretty lousy with the weapon.

  On this particular occasion, too, as Eryn was on his way between the stores, he saw Ravenor on the archers’ yard. He and three others from III Company were doing some extra practice. Eryn wasn’t so keen to work that day, and decided to stop by and watch.

  Harkon won’t miss me if I’m gone five minutes longer.

  His roommate was pretending he had not seen Eryn, and continued to practice with dogged determination.

  Too cramped, faulty breathing and - whoosh - the arrow misses the target again. It almost hurts to watch Ravenor practicing. Because Eryn didn’t want to cause himself more pain with the sight, he turned his attention to the other three archers.

  Two arrows very nearly stuck in the target. Then an arrow hit the target directly in the center.

  What amateurs. That was pure fluke.

  But the other two men of the III praised the archer in the warmest tones.

  “A formidable shot, Askir,” enthused the first, while the second felt called upon to add:

  “With your abilities, it isn’t fair that you were punished with an extra lesson. I would call it very bad luck.”

  “Let it be, Demon. You can’t always expect to be judged properly and treated justly.”

  What utter coxcombs! A disgusting mix of boot-licking and lordliness. This behavior just confirms what all my mates have ever told me about higher-class people.

  One of the bootlickers now noticed Eryn leaning on the fence.

  “Hey, what are you gawping at?!”

  “Just watching,” Eryn replied calmly, not intending to offend anyone.

  Their leader, Askir, spoke up: “Let him be, Marten. Perhaps he can learn something while he is watching us.”

  This time Eryn couldn’t hold back and snorted with laughter: “I shouldn’t think so.”

  Askir seemed put out. Such straight talking shook his superior self-confidence.

  “How do you mean that?!”

  “Exactly the way I said it. You’re rather lousy with the bow.”

  “Says who?” Askir pronounced every letter.

  The situation grew tense, but Er
yn wasn’t about to cave in. “I, Eryn Bloodhand.”

  The bootlicker Marten bent over to Askir and spoke so loudly that everybody could hear:

  “That is the cripple from V Company.”

  Now the chief-lordling fluffed up his feathers: “And I, Sir Askir Orten, ask myself how a cripple without a hand can make a judgment in this case, anyway. Or are you now going to demonstrate how it is done?!”

  Eryn would have liked nothing more, so the words were vexing. “Once I had two hands and at that time I could have shown you easily how to dispatch ten arrows into a target twice as far away as this one, Askir!”

  “Bow, wow, wow!” was Askir’s response to that challenge. But even before he could continue, one of his hounds barked back: “Sir Askir Orten to you – commoner!”

  The stupid gits can prance about as much as they like. “Why? I see no badges of rank, merely other recruits. So like hell I’ll address you by your title.”

  Now the three of them advanced upon him slowly, threateningly, and then suddenly Ravenor appeared on the scene. He had been observing the conversation the whole time, as such exchanges were of far more interest to him than the stupid arrow-shooting. Wherever there was trouble, Ravenor was never far behind – such at least was his reputation.

  “What’s this? Three against one?”

  “This has nothing to do with you, Ravenor. Mind your own business,” Askir retorted.

  Ravenor put the bow aside and cracked his knuckles. “I see that differently.” He pointed towards Eryn. “That’s my roommate.”

  Eryn couldn’t believe his ears. Really? I would have expected Ravenor to take sides with the three others. To give me a bad thrashing. Four against one... Wonders will never cease. Words were one thing but the Ravenor factor mostly led to fisticuffs.

  “Just let it be. I’ll leave now and you can carry on practicing.” Eryn meant to take the edge off the situation but none of the others were prepared to countenance the thought of giving in.