Kellen on the other hand was an experienced warrior and Byrn thought he might have served as a member of the Kenzai at some point. Otherwise why would he be here instead of leading the guard back in Colum?
Between the two of them Byrn felt completely outmatched. If they found him…
The magician pushed such thoughts aside as he strained his hearing for any sounds that might be human hidden among the sounds of the forest. Ryonus taught him how to do the simple spell that would allow him to hear sounds beyond what any normal man could hear and as it was only a slight augmentation to his own body no blood letting would be necessary. In time Byrn hoped to develop his mastery over the manipulation discipline enough to the point where his senses would become permanently augmented like Ryonus. The augmentation became so ingrained in the master of manipulation that not even the runes of absorption in Baj could reduce his heightened senses.
Hours passed as Byrn and his horse, Bess, aimlessly wandered the forest. The sun would be setting soon, forcing the young elementalist to start heading back towards the road or risk spending a night lost in the forest. The canopy of trees was not so thick that Byrn could not chart the course of the sun from east to west giving him a rough idea of which direction he needed to head in order to reach the main road, but doing the same thing with only the night sky as a guide would be nearly impossible.
Suddenly a giant ogre was upon him from out of nowhere. It’s angry growl signaling its charge. For a second Byrn puzzled at how it managed to sneak up on him without making so much as a sound before his survival instinct took over and he decided that avoiding the monster's blows should be his main concern at the moment. Byrn kicked Bess into a gallop getting some distance between him and the gray-green hulk. As he rode at full speed artfully dodging trees he whipped his knife from his belt and slashed the back of his opposite hand since the cut on the palm was still healing. Replacing his knife he turned to face the behemoth and was surprised to see it was not as close as he expected. It had barely moved since its initial attack.
Byrn summoned a fire whip as Sane taught him, but found it much more difficult without the use of a grimoire to focus his power. Conjuring a shield to go with it would be too much for him to manage. Kicking his heels, rider and horse charged the ogre at a full gallop. Byrn cracked the whip overhead as he tried to keep it from falling to his side and accidentally burning him or his mount before he could reach the ogre.
The monster raised its fist as Byrn drew near and snapped his flame whip, wrapping it around the ogre's arm, burning flesh down to the bone, or that was what was supposed to happen. Instead the flame whip passed through the ogre's arm as if it was not really there. Then the foul creature shuddered not as a man or beast would in an involuntary shake. Instead the whole creature moved as if it was blinking in and out of existence. Suddenly it was gone as quickly as it appeared and was replaced by a small creature that looked to be the offspring of a cat and squirrel that stood on two stumpy legs.
“Hold, magician!” said the voice of a young man about the same age as Byrn. He wore a black cloak and had well groomed sandy blonde hair. The cat-squirrel ran to him and scurried up his cloak until it rested on his shoulder. “I mean you no harm. It was my intention to drive you off. I thought you were a bandit or lost traveler, but now I can see that you are more than that.
“Who are you and why are you here?”
Byrn saw the other magician's staff and could not help feeling a pang of jealousy over the fine weapon as his own hand was bleeding onto his trousers and boot. “My name is Byrn Lightfoot. I came here on rumors of a magician in this area. I am seeking a lady by the name of Avelice Necros.”
“I am Turshyn,” the black robed magician absently patted the creature on his shoulder, “I wish I could help, but I have not heard of the lady you seek.”
“Perhaps you could still be of some help. I am in need of a staff or grimoire or anything really that might be of help to a rogue magician. Almost two weeks ago I escaped from Baj Prison and now I am in hiding from my former master and another man who may have been one of the Kenzai,” Byrn told him thinking he had nothing to lose by confiding in another magician that was already hiding in the forest.
“Baj is far to the north,” said Turshyn. “What brings you to Lion's Landing in particular?”
“It is half luck that my escape led me here, but I was also directed to go to Lion's Landing and seek out Avelice Necros by one of my cellmates, Xander Necros.”
Turshyn thought for a minute before he next spoke, his face revealing nothing. Finally he said, “I need to consider what can be done. Tell me where you are staying and someone will come to speak with you tonight if there is any help I can render.”
“I am working as the stable boy at The Hasty Rider,” Byrn said and a moment later added, “and sleeping in the stables. My bunk is on an overhang above the horses.”
After exchanging farewells Byrn left Turshyn and found his way back to the road just before dark. He returned to the stables and listened to the master who shared many of an ogre's qualities himself, especially in the areas of smell and intelligence, berate his new stable boy for disappearing for most of the day. Eventually the stable master got tired of yelling at Byrn and left, finally heading off to the inn for a mug of ale.
Chapter 28
Byrn was awakened by a high-pitched, but melodic voice in his ear. “Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey,” giggled the voice childishly. When Byrn opened his eyes he found he was in the presence of a tiny winged woman covered in a soft yellow glow.
“Are you a fairy?” Byrn asked still half asleep.
“Close enough,” the glowing woman conceded. “You are Byrn Lightfoot.”
He nodded.
“Good!” said the excited fairy. Instantly taking a mock serious tone she said, “Now question number one: Who told you to seek out Avelice Necros?”
“Her husband, Xander Necros,” Byrn said sitting up and rubbing his eyes to clear the sleep away.
“Question two: Why do you seek her?” the fairy acted as if she was writing something down although she lacked anything to write with or on.
Byrn looked around for the stable master as the strangeness of what was happening occurred to him. Seeing that they were alone, he continued, “I seek training and someplace safe to stay… at least for a little while.”
The fairy flitted around the stable a bit and returned to her original position opposite the drowsy magician. “I do not know if I believe you,” she told him in a mock serious tone, “This is a really nice barn. Why would you ever want to leave?”
He opened his mouth to tell her it was a stable, but found he did not really care and doubted that the little fairy really did either.
When no answer came the fairy continued, “Question number three: Why were you in Baj?”
Byrn considered lying and telling her that he did nothing wrong- that he was unjustly imprisoned. He had gotten good at lying lately, but instead he told her the truth, “There was an ogre attack in Colum, my hometown, last year. I helped to fight them, but I… lost control. Nine people died from my actions. I had only just found out that I could use magic that day and unwittingly drained the blood source from those innocent people. My father was among those killed.”
The fairy woman looked very sad, “That is so tragic.” She fluttered over to him and grabbed his shoulder squeezing it in her outstretched arms. Byrn found he was a little surprised at the tiny woman's strong arms. When she let go she smiled and said, “You looked like you could use a hug.”
She looked at Byrn closely as if she was making some decision and then said, “Stay here.” Without waiting for a response, she flew in a small circle before flying out an open window so fast that Byrn could barely follow her movement with his eyes.
Byrn sat in his bed watching the horses sleep in their stables below. Hours passed slowly as he waited for the fairy's return and the sun began to rise. A ray of sunlight came through the window and the rogue magician knew
she would not return. He was alone. Turshyn and whoever else he was conferring with had decided not to help him.
It did not matter, he thought. He could get by on his own. Sane had not yet found him and Byrn could still leave Lion's Landing at any time. He could start over anywhere. It would be a simple matter to board a ship and sail to Mollifas. From there he could leave behind Aurelia completely and sail north to the dwarven kingdom of Ghant. He could even travel as far north as Tempest where magician's ruled the land.
Grabbing the small pouch of coins he earned working in the stable, he left for the pier to find passage north. If he stayed in Lion's Landing too long, then his pursuers would discover him eventually. Mollifas was the largest city in the kingdom and the seat of the king’s power. He doubted Sane would think to look for him there, assuming that would be the last place that a rogue magician would go.
An older woman in her fifties was watching him as he left the stable. Her hair was black, but beginning to show signs of graying. She wore a gray cloak and had what appeared to be a decorative walking staff, but Byrn guessed it was more magical in nature.
“You were told to stay put,” said the graying magician when Byrn approached her, “I have decided to help you, but would speak with you directly first. My name is Avelice Necros.”
Byrn extended his hand, “It is good to meet you.”
Shaking it, she asked, “We need to speak freely. Is there anyone in the barn?”
“Just the horses.”
They entered and Avelice placed her hand on Byrn's shoulder, “Let us go.”
He felt any easy lightness flow through him before entering the white void and a few seconds later he was in a grove surrounded by trees. “We are in the forest outside of Lion's Landing?” he guessed.
“Yes,” answered Avelice, “about a half mile from where you met Turshyn yesterday. You got very close to us before Turshyn happened upon you.”
Avelice Necros moved to a bench not far from where they transported in and pat the seat next to her indicating that Byrn should sit. “You met my husband in Baj and he sent you here to find me, is that correct?”
“Yes, he did,” Byrn answered hesitantly at first judging her expression. “We realized there was an opportunity for me to escape and he told me that if I found you and used his name then you would help me.”
“I am not looking to start a war as my husband was. When you ask for 'help' what do you mean?”
“I am still new to the ways of magic and would like to practice under you. In truth, I have been told that I am very talented for my age, but there are glaring holes in my education due to the circumstances of my training. If you are unwilling to take me as a student, then I would request aid in the form of a staff or grimoire if you can spare one or would be willing to learn if you would show me how to make my own.” Byrn looked at his scabbed over palms and flexed his hands as he said the last bit.
“Self inflicted?” the graying magician nodded at his cuts.
“It has been a difficult trek getting here,” Byrn admitted.
Avelice nodded and smiled softly, “Without a proper staff, spell casting can be a very taxing exercise, but I will show you how to make your own so that should you ever lose it, you can replace it on your own.
“Now I would like to hear the rest of your story. Tell me how you escaped from Baj and came to be here.”
Byrn began his story with his lessons of magic from his fellow inmates and recalled his tale up to the point where he met Turshyn. It was morning when he started his story and when he finished it was midday. All the while Avelice sat nearly motionless giving the young magician her undivided attention. When he finally finished talking they sat in uncomfortable silence for several long minutes while Avelice thought. Finally she said, “Byrn, if what you say is true and I have no reason to doubt your claims from what Turshyn told me of your brief encounter, then I would like to invite you to join my school.”
She waved her hand beyond the grove and indicated a medium sized cabin in the distance that Byrn hadn't noticed before. He briefly wondered if it had always been there and he simply missed it or if it had been concealed by magical means.
Three students by the looks of them walked out of the cabin as if summoned. Turshyn led the others and was closely followed by two young ladies. One was an attractive blonde girl close to Byrn in age, dressed in a simple blue robe and the other was a youngster of about twelve or thirteen years also with blonde hair, but wearing a simple shirt and trousers.
“You know Turshyn Necran,” said Avelice introducing the newcomers, “and the others are Mellani and Minerva Truthsayer.” Avelice pointed to the elder sister and then the younger as she spoke.
“Everyone just calls me Minnie,” said the younger girl flashing a big grin that was reminiscent of the little fairy from the previous night.
“It is good to meet you,” Byrn told her bending down so that he was at eye level. To Turshyn, he asked, “Are you of any relation to a Tell Necran?”
“I can not say that I am,” said Turshyn, “I take my name as a sign of my skill as a necromancer rather than a family name.” Byrn nodded showing he understood. It was not an unheard of thing. Most commoners did the same, preferring to identify with their trade rather than take a family name. Most children tended to follow in their parents footsteps, so they usually shared the same family name anyway.
“And this is Byrn Lightfoot,” Avelice told the others.
“Lightfoot? Are you a foot-pad?” asked the older girl, Mellani.
“Lightfoot is a master courier name,” Byrn told them. “It was my father's name.”
Mellani looked as if she was about to ask another question, but Avelice shook her head slightly and the girl simply said, “I am sorry. I meant no disrespect.”
Byrn wryly smiled and said, “No worries. Now that you bring it up I can see how you might think that, my lady.”
When he called Mellani “my lady” she blushed and did her best to prevent a smile. Quickly excusing herself she ran back to the cabin to retrieve something inconsequential and a giggling Minnie followed after her.
“Byrn, would you please follow the girls?” Avelice suggested, “Ask Minnie to show you to Turshyn's room. You will be bunking together once I can get an extra bed. For now the floor is yours.”
***
Once Byrn was well out of earshot Avelice said to Turshyn, “Mellani seems a little taken with him. I know you have feelings for her. Will this cause a problem?”
“For me? Almost certainly,” answered the young necromancer, “but if you are asking if I intend to leave or cause problems if she chooses him over me then your fears are misplaced. Mellani has told me plainly that she regards me as a brother. If it is not Byrn, then it will be someone else, but it will never be me.”
“Turshyn, you are wise beyond your years.” Avelice put her arm around her favorite student amicably. She added as they headed toward the cabin, “Have I ever introduced you to my daughter? She is a little older than you, but she could use a nice level-headed young man in her life.”
“Is this the same daughter that set a boy’s hair on fire when she found out that he liked another girl?” Turshyn asked with a half laugh.
“Did I tell you that story, already?” Avelice joked, “She was barely Minnie’s age at the time and the boy’s hair grew back in hardly any time at all.”
Turshyn laughed again. “If it is all the same to you, I think I will forego anymore girl problems for a while.”
Chapter 29
Kellen ate his breakfast greedily while the sorcerer watched in amazement. A plate of fried eggs, ham steak, and bacon sat in front of the warrior and was rapidly disappearing. This was his third plate and Sane looked as if he was guessing how long it would be until the knight-captain's belly would burst from his plate armor. Kellen grinned, “Not eating?”
“Somehow I lost my appetite,” Sane tried to smile back. Weeks of searching for Byrn had turned up nothing and the old sorcerer's s
pirit was beginning to wane. To make matters more complicated it was clear that Sane was still unsure what to do with the boy should they find him.
The door to the inn opened allowing a soft breeze to blow in for a moment carrying the scent of lavender from the woman who had just entered. She wore a black cloak and had flowing black hair with touches of gray. Seeing the magician and warrior eating she approached them and pulled up an empty chair at their table.
“Avelice?” Sane asked surprised, “It has been a long time.”
Kellen looked to the woman and back to Sane. When no introduction came he extended his hand, “I am Knight-Captain Kellen. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
Avelice shook his hand, “And yours as well. You may call me Avelice, knight-captain.” To Sane, she said, “I wish we were meeting under more pleasant circumstances. You are looking for a young magician.” It was not a question.
“I am,” Sane nodded in agreement, but said nothing more.
Both magicians wore grim expressions and their eyes stayed locked on each other as they spoke. Kellen suddenly felt like an intruder on their conversation and guessed that there was much being left unsaid between them.
“To what end?” Avelice asked. Kellen noticed her hand move ever so slightly towards her cloak. It was an unconscious movement on the woman's part as she sought the comfort of her grimoire that was undoubtedly hidden underneath. Simply touching it would be enough for her to cast a spell if need be.
When Sane did not answer, she turned to Kellen as if making some sort of decision. Her hand crept closer to her cloak and the warrior leaned forward grabbing her by the wrist. “Let us keep this a civil discussion. We are not your enemies.” The warrior looked to Sane. “Are we?”
Sane laughed a tired laugh and the tension broke a little. “No, we are decidedly not enemies.” He placed his hands on the table and Avelice did the same. Amongst magicians placing their hands in front of them was a common sign that neither would use magic. “I am unsure what I am going to do. The king has decreed that the boy should die for his crimes, but I do not know if I can bring myself to do it.”
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