Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion)

by Cornett, Curtis

  Staring out into the night Sari said, “Their behavior is not normal- the ogres, I mean. They do not normally attack cities.”

  “It's the enchantment,” said Sane. “That girl must have hypnotized them or put some sort of illusion over them. They might see all of the humans as goats or be consumed with rage driving them to kill.”

  “Is it developing as you saw it?” wondered Sari.

  “I am not sure,” the sorcerer considered thoughtfully, “There were two parts to the vision and my distress was so great over watching Kellen die that I neglected the second half involving Byrn at first. When my mind started to calm I did try to relive that part of my vision, but I misunderstood it thinking it was a sign showing me what must be done to save Kellen. When in reality it portended a much greater threat. Until we saw the ogre horde I did not understand that it was Kellen's battle that was the warning and Byrn's confrontation at the temple that would mark the true threat to the city.

  “In my vision Byrn did not distract the ogre during the initial attack. Kellen was the first guardsman on the scene. He just happened to be wandering by on a morning constitutional or patrol. He fought bravely and did kill the beast, but his injuries were too severe. He collapsed next to it and died before a healer could arrive.

  “The second part of the vision could be occurring now. Tannys Lightfoot is most likely a member of the city's militia as most men his age are. He probably joined his militia squadron and Byrn stayed behind with his mother to protect her, but she was gravely injured when one of the ogres attacked their home. The boy carried her to the Temple of Ashura, but it was under attack. He was scared, but stood bravely against the monster sword in hand.

  “It may be that my earlier interference in the boy's life will prevent that from occurring. Byrn rode out with us and so would not have been home when the ogres attacked to protect his mother. She could be dead now and it would be my fault. As for Byrn it is impossible to guess what might have happened to him. He could end up at the temple as I foresaw or events could transpire completely differently from now.”

  Sane moved closer to the edge of the balcony, but instead of the sky he scanned the ground for any sign of the powerful magician girl. He silently hoped that he had somehow done enough to change his new apprentice's fate.

  “Byrn should be fine. He is your apprentice after all,” Sari told him reassuringly.

  “If he sees the night through unharmed it will not be for anything I have taught him. His apprenticeship has barely been a half-day and all I have taught him is the basic forms of magic. We did not even get to how to perform the simplest of magic spells...or the inherent dangers. If he somehow did any magic with his current understanding the results could be catastrophic.”

  Sari took his hand. The events of the last few hours did much to sober her both in mind and spirit. She smiled at the sorcerer weakly, “He will be alright.”

  Chapter 12

  Byrn was pinned to the ground by the wrathful ogre's foot. He wriggled underneath as he tried to free himself, but could not budge the monster's massive girth. Ogres were never known for their intelligence, but this one was now nothing more than a mass of pain and rage. Arrows stuck from its arms and back. It was bleeding heavily from multiple cuts and at some point a soldier buried a dagger into its shoulder where the weapon still resided.

  The priests of Ashura are renowned healers, but they are not known for their ability to fight. Ashura abhors violence and it is commonly known that she will not grant her blessing to those who would do harm to others. Instead the priests did their best to support Byrn and keep him alive as the beast pressed harder and harder with its enormous foot. One cast an aura of regeneration while another projected a weak shield of energy to cushion the pressure. Unlike Byrn's own shields which lasted only a few seconds the healer's shield had been erected for much longer forcing the ogre to use all his strength to reach Byrn.

  His head was getting light again and he began to see spots like little bright lights dancing in his vision. Tannys was unconscious and bleeding- possibly dead. The only fighters were among the injured and could barely stand let alone wield a sword effectively. Byrn had to do something soon or he was going to die.

  The blood felt like it was boiling under the young magician's flesh. Magic deep within him began to stir and well up. Now his skin and bones began to feel like they were on fire too, burning from the inside out.

  “Get off of me,” Byrn roared. He raised his arms, palms out toward the ogre above him and to his own amazement, as much as anyone else’s watching the exchange, a ball of fire shot from his hand and knocked the monster off him forcing it to stumble back.

  The pungent smell of cooked ogre filled the air. Wisps of smoke wafted off the beast's chest where the fireball hit, but it would not be stopped. Regaining its footing the ogre raised its fists to deliver a killing blow, but Byrn threw another ball of fire into its gut forcing it back once more.

  The healers were screaming for Byrn stop, but he barely heard them through burning of red rage that consumed him.

  A red mist of blood in the air swirled around the magician contracting with every ball of flame that he threw expanding out again between shots. He threw flame after flame at the beast until he lost count. The magic was a part of him, but it was more than that. It flowed through him as if he was little more than a portal for the power to escape through. He absorbed it from the world around him and released it in blasts of energy. It was an intoxicating feeling, to hold such sheer power at his disposal. Eventually the ogre finally gave in to the onslaught and toppled backward, dead, and a moment later Byrn fell to his knees with exhaustion. The young magician suddenly felt dizzy, as he had after conjuring the shield and feinted.

  Chapter 13

  “Tell me, Sane, what happened to the young man who was supposed to be your new apprentice, Byrn?” asked King Kale.

  He was sitting on his throne and they were the only two in the large room. The morning sun was shining through a mural depicting Vailon, god of battle and war, towering above an army with his arms spread wide encompassing his worshipers.

  “One of the ogres attacked the temple of Ashura,” began Sane, “Byrn stood against it to protect the injured people there along with his father. The ogre killed the man and was about to do the same to the boy. In his desperation Byrn tapped into the blood source. He has a great talent for magic, but without training and guidance he released it very violently and having no knowledge of magic to restrain himself and no staff or grimoire to use as a focusing device he powered his attacks directly through the blood source. His own source and that of nine others: Four men, three women, and a young boy. Only Byrn survived the process, but not without harm. He gave up a great deal of his own blood and nearly sacrificed himself as well.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Byrn was imprisoned in Baj and is awaiting your judgment,” Sane told him, “Given what occurred and the number of witnesses there was little else that could have been done at the time. He was tended to by a healer until his life was no longer in danger, but he has yet to awaken...”

  King Kale eyed the sorcerer shrewdly, “You look like you have more to say. I assume you have a recommendation on the boy's fate.”

  “He is young and inexperienced. Brash perhaps, but Kellen told me that Byrn fought bravely in the assault on Colum. He cost some lives, but he probably saved more. I dragged him into this conflict and those deaths could be laid just as easily at my feet as they are at his. I would still like to take him as my apprentice. He has great potential and could be a valuable ally to the kingdom with the proper guidance and training.”

  Kale weighed his decision for what felt like a much longer time than it really was. After being the king's adviser for years, Sane could usually guess where the king would land on any given dispute, but this time the sorcerer was unsure.

  Eventually King Kale came to a conclusion, “He has been exposed as a magician and killed several people. The people of Colum
want his head... and you want him freed. Sane, your judgment is held in my highest regard and for that reason Byrn Lightfoot will live.

  “You may apprentice this young man, but he is a danger to others and to himself if anyone from Colum should recognize him. He will stay in Baj for a minimum of eight years. One year for each person he killed. During that time you can visit and train him.

  “Once the eight years have passed and you are convinced that he is no longer a danger, then I will meet him and determine his ultimate fate at that time.”

  It was not exactly what Sane had hoped for, but it could have been worse. A public display of magic resulting in so much loss of life could have been a death sentence.

  “Thank you, your majesty.”

  Chapter 14

  When Byrn opened his eyes he found that he was lying in a serene garden. The sun felt warm on his face, almost comforting him, as if the gentle heat was telling him that all was once again right with the world. There were no ogres here. He did not have to fear being hunted or fear being taken from his home and forced into a life that was so foreign to him that he was not sure if he even wanted it no matter what power or privilege some old man promised him.

  Flowers of myriad colors, some he recognized most he did not, decorated the gardens painting the landscape in bright reds and yellows perfectly contrasted by deep blues and purples. This place was calm. It was a place of peace. It was truly magical.

  Magical... The word suddenly made him uneasy which was an even more unsettling feeling to think that he could feel uneasy in this wondrous place.

  “Get off of the flowers,” a decidedly firm, but feminine voice commanded from behind him.

  Turning to see who was there Byrn found himself face-to-shins with easily the most beautiful knees he had ever seen in his short existence. His gaze shifted upward to reveal a woman wearing a short flowing dress of pure white that cut off just below her thighs. The dress was soft and frilly. Two straps held its top in place with lightly frilled edges instead of short or puffy sleeves as was more traditional. Her hair was a shining gold going past her shoulders and down her back framing her face perfectly, which in and of itself was also without imperfection. Staring at her face, the young man absently thought that her delicate features brought her rather lovely knees to shame. The only thing he found wrong with her was the fact that she was scowling at him and even then he found it a terribly lovely scowl.

  The desire to please her was overwhelming and he quickly found himself up and off of the flowerbed where he had wakened and standing beside the fair-haired woman on a dirt path. Taking a larger survey of his surroundings Byrn realized the dirt path extended ahead and behind him going into the horizon, as did the “beds” of flowers that were actually never ending fields.

  “Do you understand why you are here?” asked the woman that Byrn was sure must be a goddess for no human could be so beautiful.

  “My lady, I do not even know where here is,” he confessed.

  “Well at least you have some manners,” scoffed the goddess.

  “See. He is not so bad,” replied the goddess's voice this time from his opposite side. A moment ago there had been no one else for as far as Byrn could see, but now there was another woman standing to his right. She was the twin of the goddess, but her dress was black and her hair was a striking red. Her beauty was almost as intoxicating as her sister's, but she had a sly smile instead of a scowl.

  “Do not take his side,” the blonde one said petulantly crossing her arms. “What he did was sacrilege plain and simple. You should take his life here and now for such an affront.”

  “Oh dear sister,” the redhead said in a placating manner, “He is just a stupid human. He does not understand what he is doing. Honestly, I can not recall the last time I saw you so eager to end a human's life.”

  “And I fail to recall the last time you were so quick to spare one,” the golden goddess' eyes burned with fury.

  An uncomfortably silent moment passed that felt more like an hour to Byrn before he dared speak. He had no idea what was transpiring or what he had done, but he was confident that he was in way over his head and a misstep could mean his life. “Pardon me, my ladies,” he began more than a little unsure of himself, “but may I ask what is going on here?”

  “See,” the red-haired one smiled triumphantly, “I told you that humans were simple things.”

  “Do not act so self righteous, Kassani, you're just taking his side because he is a deranged, sacrilegious murderer and you think he will drive more souls to you!”

  Kassani laughed. “Please, sister, you wound me. I have more souls than I know what to do with. Why would I care about a few more?”

  If the red-haired woman was Kassani, the goddess of death, then the golden-haired one must be Ashura, the goddess of life. That answered one question, but raised another, “Why does the goddess of life think me a murderer?”

  “Why do I think you are a murderer?” Ashura scoffed in disbelief. “Well that could be because you are a murderer! You killed nine people... including your father... at my temple... and you used magic, a gift I gave you, to do it!

  “Do you not see how that is a direct insult to the gods and me specifically? I have no illusions about the higher races and their love of war, but I can not turn a blind eye to what you have done on my very doorstep.”

  Byrn refused to believe what he was hearing. He never killed anyone certainly not his father. He killed animals while hunting with his father and more recently two ogres, but never a person. “But I have never killed anyone.”

  Kassani laughed, “There is no need to lie to us, human. Your guilt is not in question. It is only your punishment that has yet to be determined. My dear sister, Ashura, wants me to send you to the underworld whereas I would very much like to see you go on living.” The irony of the goddess of life wishing him dead and the goddess of death wanting to spare him was not lost on Byrn. If it were not his life in the balance, he might find it absurd.

  “I swear I did not kill anyone,” Byrn protested tension filling his words.

  Ashura relented, “Perhaps he believes he is speaking the truth. Let us begin his sentencing then he will understand what he has done... and why he is too dangerous to be allowed to run amok in the world of the living.”

  “As you wish, sister,” Kassani said amicably.

  Suddenly Byrn found himself in a nondescript dark chamber. The goddesses stood in front of him. Kassani was to his left and Ashura was on the right. Between them were nine figures of differing sizes, but all were decidedly human. He could not make out any details, but Byrn thought that one looked smaller than the others like a child.

  Ashura began speaking, “Byrn Lightfoot you stand before us guilty of committing murder nine times over at my temple in the city of Colum.” Byrn opened his mouth about to object once again, but the goddess stopped him. “Do not interrupt. As my sister said, your guilt is not in question.”

  She crossed the chamber to stand before him. Raising her soft hand to Byrn's forehead she touched him with the tips of her fingers. A bright light flashed for an instant where Ashura touched his head and a sudden understanding befell him.

  The goddess of life showed him the dark secret of magic. It was within every living creature from the smallest insect to the largest beast. The source of magic was found in their blood. Some were more attuned to it like magicians, but it was present in all living things. When Byrn summoned forth the fire he used to kill the ogre at the temple he did so by unknowingly draining the life force, the very blood itself, from those around him. Anyone with an open wound in close proximity to Byrn was drained of life to fuel his attack.

  He fell to his knees and began sobbing uncontrollably as the realization of the death he caused washed over him. Ashura's heart lightened a little watching him. Her scowl retreated to a frown as she returned to her place to the right of the assembled figures.

  “Now you understand. We will give you some time to compose yourself.”
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  The goddesses of life and death along with their congregation stood silently watching with infinite patience. Byrn guessed that to ones such as these time might be meaningless as he slowly regained his composure.

  The guilt cut him deeper than any knife could and the pain was far worse. “I am ready for whatever punishment you believe is fitting,” he said to the goddesses resigning himself to his fate.

  “Do not be so quick to fall on your sword,” Kassani told him. “Your actions are not in question, but you may defend them if you wish.”

  “I... There is nothing I have to say to defend myself.” Byrn told her sadly.

  “Then you leave us little choice,” said a disappointed Kassani. “Ashura wishes to see your life ended. I wish to see you spared. Before you stand the souls of the nine lives you ended. Your fate is in their hands. If they wish to see you join their ranks, they will stand with Ashura. If they wish to see you spared they will stand with me.

  “Departed, please make your choices now.”

  One of the figures stepped forward. Once he came forward Byrn could see that the figure was that of a man. It spoke with the voice of Tannys Lightfoot. “If he does not wish to say anything on his own behalf, then I would like to do so for him.”

  Kassani considered the request. “Such a thing would be reasonable,” she said urging Tannys to continue.

  “My name is Tannys Lightfoot and the boy standing before us is my son, Byrn. I know him as well as I know myself and I can tell you he is a good and honest lad. What happened to us was a tragedy to be sure, but if Byrn had not been there would any of us have lived? That ogre would have killed all of us and probably many others.

  “I know my son would not have knowingly harmed us even to save others, but what he did was done to protect lives, not take them.”

  “There were thirty-seven others at the temple,” Ashura added. “That is hardly countless.”