“I am not a killer… At least I did not mean to kill anyone. It was all an accident.”
“How so?” asked Xander. If the sorcerer, Sane, was involved there may be more to his new friend than he thought. It was not unheard of for a newly awakened magician to accidentally hurt or kill someone soon after discovering his or her gift, but for the king's pet sorcerer to take a prisoner under his wing there must be something special about this boy. Of course if magicians were not treated like criminals and monsters simply for existing and were allowed to identify and train the younglings openly, then this sort of thing would happen much less often.
Byrn told them of the night the ogres attacked and the tragedy at the temple. As he told his story Xander saw an opportunity to ingratiate himself further into Byrn’s good graces.
“The same thing happened to me long ago,” Xander told him. “For me it was a group of bandits that attacked my village. We were a small community and the bandits thought we were easy pickings. We fought back at first. Our numbers were greater, but we were unorganized farmers with pitchforks and scythes against well-armed, trained fighters. They overpowered us and killed many outright. The rest they rounded up and planned to make an example of for daring to fight back at all.
“One by one, they killed us until they came to me. I was only thirteen at the time and the bandit tasked with ending my life hesitated for a moment before he was to strike. I begged and pleaded for him not to kill me. Tears ran down my face and he pushed me to my knees and made me turn around so that he did not have to look into my face as he took my life. In that moment of despair I felt something deep within me spring to life. I saw an image in my mind that I would later learn was called a rune and a cold rush of energy shivered through my body and exploded outward or at least that is how it felt. My dead comrades and family began to rise all around me.
“Killing a live man is one thing, but killing one already dead is another matter entirely. The bandits were now the ones becoming overwhelmed. Some fled immediately and they survived to tell the tale. Most were not so lucky...
“When it was over and the village was saved the few survivors looked at me as if I was a monster. They feared me and honestly, I could not blame them. I feared myself for what I had done. Like you when I first used magic I did so by unknowingly sacrificing innocent people drawing on the blood of the wounded and those nearly dead. It happens often when a previously undiscovered magician first accesses his power in a life and death circumstance. Without the knowledge and training of an elder magician a youngling can be quite dangerous.”
“That is awful. Is that why you are here?” asked Byrn.
“No, that was a long time ago and I never told anyone- not until now. I am here for altogether different reasons.”
“I am not planning on going anywhere,” Byrn told him. Xander imagined the boy with a wry smile.
“Time tends to get away from us in here, but I think it was ten or so years ago. My son, Jynn, was murdered for being a magician. He was my eldest, twenty-six years, when he died. Some thieves sought to recruit him. They had found out about his magical talents and wanted his power for their own, but he would not have any part of it. So they killed him.
“My eldest daughter, Risa, begged the city guards to bring justice to the thieves. I warned her that it was a pointless task. The guardsmen did not care about our kind, but she refused to hear me. They denied her justice and would not act against the band of thieves. Instead they arrested Risa as a rogue magician and called the Kenzai to get the rest of my family.
“We were gone by the time they arrived, but my daughter had been taken out of my reach. I never saw her again. I hope they moved her to a domain, but she could be somewhere in this prison for all I know.
“Grief overtook me following the loss of my eldest children and I determined that it was time that magicians fought back. Most do not realize that there is a cycle to the conflicts between magicians and normal people going back thousands of years. Magicians rule over their lessers, but the masses rise up and overthrow the magicians making them as slaves. In time the magicians grow stronger and overthrow their oppressors starting the cycle anew. I decided that I could no longer sit back idly and do nothing.
“It became my goal to unite the magicians of Aurelia. Whether to the end of overthrowing the kingdom or carving out our own place away from the lessers, I did not care. I began a resistance, but found myself unprepared to make sacrifices of my own men when called for, forfeiting military might to protect my followers. The kingdom crushed my small rebellion and I ended up here with a life sentence.”
“At least you tried, grandmaster,” said Tell reassuringly.
“Thank you, Tell.”
“I have not heard of any magician rebellions since the great uprising and that was long before any of us were born,” said Byrn questioning if not outright disbelieving.
“Do you think the lords and ladies of the kingdom would let word of that spread?” Xander scoffed, “No, they would squash any rumor of it with prejudice rather than let it be known that magicians were capable of fighting back. A single magician can be as powerful as fifty warriors. Imagine if all of the magicians in the kingdom rose up at once. We would be unstoppable... and places like this would be things of the past.”
Some time passed before Byrn next spoke. It was a risk telling Byrn about his rebellion, but he had to know. If the young one closed himself off to Xander, then his hope of escape may be gone. If not, then he may have made a valuable ally that would be free in less than a decade.
“If you had been successful what would you have changed about the kingdom?” Byrn asked curiously.
Xander smiled to himself. It seems he had made a new friend after all.
Chapter 18
Byrn Lightfoot spent the next year in intense training. Life in the prison was incredibly dull, but teaching their youngest member gave the members of Xander's cluster something to do. Sane taught him fundamentals while Xander and the other prisoners explained to him more advanced techniques in secret. There was no way for him to practice these advanced methods, but the theory and knowledge of his cellmates allowed Byrn to make surprising advances when he could practice with Sane. In a year's passage, he progressed as far as most pupils would in five years.
“When you become a bit more skilled at manipulation you'll be able to travel great distances in an instant,” Ryonus told him one day while discussing some of the more advanced techniques of his chosen branch of magic.
“A great deal of good that has done you,” laughed Mantellus. “Why not just will yourself right out of here?”
“Shut your mouth,” warned Tell. “You know full well why he can not- why none of us can do that. Stop acting like a fool.”
“None of us can use magic in here,” Byrn added helpfully.
“It is more than that,” Ryonus explained, “while basic spells can be cast simply by holding a staff and willing it. The truly advanced spells require more effort and can be dangerous to the caster if done haphazardly. Some require special rituals be performed and others require special tools. The skill of transportation requires one such item and a little preparation.
“With practice moving from one place to another can become as second nature as walking, but it requires some raw power. You would literally be removing your body from this world and placing it in another realm of existence for an instant. Being from this world your body will be naturally drawn back and when it returns to our realm your body can be placed in another location.
“The problem lies in choosing the destination you want to return at. It is impossible to concentrate enough to reliably control where you go when you return so we use rune markers to choose a destination.”
“What is a rune marker?” asked Fredrik Thunderkin. Next to Byrn he was the youngest and least experienced of the group.
Ryonus audibly sighed. “A rune marker is a small piece of wood with a rune carved in it. The caster enchants it at the location he wants
to be able to return to and the same symbol is burned into an object at that location usually a large stone or wall. Something that cannot be easily moved and the rune cannot be easily marred either by others or nature. That ties the rune marker to that location and when the caster uses the spell with the rune he is drawn to that location.”
“I have seen some of those,” Byrn told them, “sometimes when Sane is fumbling around with his backpack looking for something I will see him move around small pieces of wood like that. He also told me how he could move great distances in little time when we first met.”
“You should steal one,” joked Mantellus, “pop yourself right out of here during your next training session with the old bone sack.”
Joke or not his words made sense to the young magician. Byrn wondered if it could really be that simple. “If I got a hold of one of those how would I activate it?” he asked. His voice was hushed for fear that one of the guards might hear him.
“Are you serious?” asked Tell. “If you try it and they stop you, you will be dead. If you get away you will be a fugitive. The Kenzai will hunt you and if they find you, you will still be dead. The best you could hope for is to get away and live the rest of your life in hiding always looking over your shoulder.”
Byrn considered his options. He could spend seven more years locked in his cell without sunlight or fresh water and have nothing to eat except for bread and cheese most days, or he could live his life on the run with nowhere to go and no one to turn to for help. It was a dismal choice either way, but then Xander said something that gave Byrn a ray of hope.
“Have you heard of Lion's Landing?” the grand necromancer asked. “It is a large port city to the south of here about three week's travel. My wife, Avelice, and my youngest daughter lived there to the last of my knowledge. If you made it there and found Avelice, told her that I sent you, she would surely help you. She may even be able to help you practice some of these spells we have been teaching you.”
“It is a tempting idea,” Byrn conceded. The thought of freedom was too tempting not to consider no matter what the consequences were.
“Just promise me something. When you have become a master magician you will remember everything you have learned here and what it feels like to be imprisoned here,” Xander told him sincerely. “Promise me that you will work to unite magicians of the kingdom under one banner and bring an end to our oppression. You will find a way to come back here and make all of the prisoners in Baj free.”
“What say you?” asked Ryonus to Byrn. “It is a tall task for a young magician, but if you are going to take such a great risk, you should resolve to do something worth while with your freedom.”
“You speak true, Ryonus. Teach me the spell,” said Byrn resolutely. “I will take up your cause and do whatever I can to free the magicians of the kingdom.”
***
The next few days until Sane's return felt like the longest ones since Byrn first woke up in his cell. When the guard next came for him Byrn felt like a cat about to jump out of its skin. Whether it was the same guard that took him to his sessions or a different one each time he could never tell. Byrn never attempted to get to know any of them and they made no such attempt with him. It was for the best, because he feared if he did have to make any sort of small talk he would exhibit some sort of nervous behavior and they would find him out.
Down the twisting halls they walked. Byrn noticed long ago that the path they took changed regularly so that he was not quite sure that he could work his way from his cell to the training ground on his own. He had a general idea that the training ground was in the northeastern area of the prison from watching the sun during training sessions, but was unsure of where his cell was relative to the grounds.
They reached the main hall and proceeded to the grounds where they found Sane rummaging through his bag. “Good day, Byrn. How are you this morning?”
“Same as ever,” Byrn replied. He tried to sound nonchalant. Being locked in a cage with nothing to do for days on end did not lead to any interesting stories and at some point the response became his staple answer when asked how he was fairing.
“What are you looking for?” Byrn asked a second later in an attempt to keep the sorcerer engaged.
Without looking up Sane told him as he continued searching through the cluttered contents of his bag, “With the progress you are making I thought it was time we tried something more advanced. Considering your natural affinity for fire magic I thought we might try a fire construct.” Byrn was familiar with the idea of a construct if not the actual practice of creating one. It was a technique most commonly associated with the elemental arts. The more advanced spell casters were said to have such mastery over the elements that they could make weapons or armor from them.
“Aha!” declared the sorcerer triumphantly as he pulled a small square package wrapped in paper from the bag. Sane unwrapped the package to reveal some sliced bread, meats, and cheeses. He took some of the meat and cheese and placed it on a slice of bread. Then he covered it with a second piece of bread.
“It's called a sammich. The dwarves of Ghant invented them as a handy meal that can be prepared easily. To this day they take them on deep mining expeditions to have as meals at their dig sites.”
“So they use the bread as if it were plates?” asked Byrn curious at the strange item.
“No, it is not like a bread bowl. It is softer like regular eating bread. Want to try some?”
Byrn eagerly accepted the offer. As a prisoner he became accustomed to only having bread and cheese most days. Even the addition of meat- what looked like ham, but he didn't care to ask- was an appealing enough offer for him to try the new foodstuff. It was an interesting combination of flavors and Byrn found it quite delicious. The best part being that it was something simple that he could replicate. A chef or cook was not needed to prepare the meal beyond the initial need to cook the bread and meat which could be done long before the foodstuffs would be eaten.
As they ate and chatted Byrn began to have second thoughts about his plan to escape. When Byrn first awoke in Baj his natural instinct was to blame Sane for his imprisonment and the deaths at the temple, but as they spent more time together and considering that Sane was the only person Byrn had physically seen in the last year, he slowly forgave the sorcerer for his failings in Colum. Maybe if Sane could help him now instead, then it may not be necessary for him to risk such a difficult escape as the one he had planned.
“Sane, I was wondering...” he began tentatively, “Is there anything that you can do to get me out of here early? This place... it drives me a little crazier with each day that passes.”
Sane's mood visibly darkened. Byrn knew that the sorcerer did not like to think about his apprentice being a prisoner and tried his best to act like nothing was out of the ordinary. “I would like to get you out of here...” he sighed heavily, “perhaps if I tell the king how much progress you have made, he will release you into my custody early.”
“Thank you, master,” Byrn said with a nod of appreciation. Hoping to lighten the sorcerer's spirit he hastily added, “What were you saying about constructs?”
The sorcerer smiled, pleased at the change in subjects. “Today I have something special planned. It is a test of skill if you will. This is when a grimoire comes in handy over a staff,” the old magician told him.
Sane took two books from his sack and set them on the table they used to examine magical items when the need arose. Byrn recognized the first book as being Sane's grimoire and the second one, a fire red grimoire, as his own. Most of the pages were still blank, but he did manage to learn a few complex spells that would require reference prior to casting due to their limited uses.
“A large staff would be too unwieldy to carry about as you tried to brandish a constructed weapon,” Sane began, “but a grimoire is just the right size to hold in one hand while you manipulate a persistent spell with the other.”
He handed Byrn the book so that his appren
tice held it in his left hand leaving his right hand, the dominant one, empty. “Concentrate on the fire that dwells inside of you as if you were going to summon a fireball. Feel it hot and burning. I want you to summon it forth, but do not let it go. Hold it in place in front of your open hand.”
Byrn did as he was instructed. It was, indeed, similar to that of creating a fireball except instead of releasing it at the moment of creation, which is what makes a fireball seem to fly when in reality it is being hurled not much different than one might throw a stone, the energy was being held in place.
Byrn summoned the fireball easily enough, but found he could not hold it. The ball shot forward towards Sane who deflected it with an invisible shield with little effort or surprise. It was not the first time that the sorcerer found himself in the way of an errant spell since Byrn began his studies.
“Focus through the grimoire to your free hand. Channel from the grimoire to your open hand. Picture the ball of flame resting just above your palm,” Sane urged him on.
A new ball of flame began to form starting as a flicker and growing into a ball about the size of a fist. It started to move forward, but Byrn was able to sense it and use his will to pull it back into position. The ball started to come back at him and he mentally pushed it forward ever so lightly. After a few more attempts to keep it in place Byrn found that he could sense the flame as if it were a living thing and wrap it in his life force, what Sane and Xander both referred to as an aura.
“Good, good,” said Sane clearly pleased with his pupil. “You have just advanced from calling forth the elements to controlling them. It can take an elementalist half a decade to attain the level of skill you are now exhibiting.
“Now let us see how far you can push it. Try and shape the flame through the strength of your will. See it in your mind as a whip that you can hold and flick it back and forth.” Sane urged him calmly, but with caution still in his voice.
Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) Page 10