by Eric Vall
“Where is everyone?” I asked as I noticed that there was no one else in the halls.
“They are out, performing their various tasks and duties to ensure that Illaria is safe,” Aurora responded a little sharply.
“Hey.” I frowned as I reached for her elbow. The half-elf maiden slowed but didn’t stop at my touch, so I pressed on. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended or upset you. It was not my intention. I was only joking about the shirt.”
“It is not that,” she sighed and fiddled with one of the small braids woven into her hair.
I furrowed my brow, but then I remembered the shadow that had passed over her face earlier. “Was it my question about your heritage? Because I didn’t mean anything by that either. I was merely curious is all. I hadn’t met an elf, or rather a half-elf, before yesterday.”
The half-elf looked up at me with those bottle-glass green eyes of hers. I saw hesitancy and a little bit of regret in their emerald depths.
“Typically when others speak of my blood, it is not with curiosity,” Aurora admitted with another sigh.
“What do you mean?” I asked with a frown.
“I mean that the elven nation of Nalnora has been Illaria’s ally for generations now, but some prejudices run deep.” The blue-haired maiden shrugged, but I saw how tense her shoulders had become. “It is not so much a problem now, but when I was young… Children can be cruel, and children in an orphanage, who grow up without love, can be even more so.”
“You grew up in an orphanage?” I asked as I blinked with surprise. “Did your parents… pass?”
“I never knew them.” Aurora shook her head, and as her long blue hair shifted across her shoulders, I inhaled the fresh scent of pine trees. “I was simply left on the steps of a small orphanage in a border town. A fact that those same cruel children liked to bring up time and again, in between calling me ‘mutt’ and ‘half-breed.’”
Even though time had passed since those children taunted her, I could see that Aurora still bore the scars of their misplaced rage and sorrow. I had noticed that, even in the brief time I had known her, the half-elf maiden was constantly touching at her hair as if to make sure the tips of her curved ears were covered by the long, blue tresses. I didn’t think she was even aware that she did it, the habit had become so ingrained now.
My heart ached with empathy, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and gently grabbing Aurora by the elbow. The Ignis Mage finally came to a stop and looked over her shoulder at me, her face neutral and guarded.
“For what it’s worth,” I said, “I’m sorry for what you went through. Kids can be dicks.” I thought back to the bullies that had tried to target me while I was in foster care before I was adopted. Something about flipping through those memories and seeing the thinly veiled hurt in Aurora’s eyes made me clear my throat and add, “I-I also never knew my parents, and I lived in an orphanage as well when I was very young. Eventually, a nice elderly couple decided to adopt me as their son, but I never felt like I belonged with them. I always felt… different, other.”
As soon as I finished speaking, Aurora’s green eyes opened wide with surprise. She stared at me for a few long seconds, and then a half-smile came to her full lips.
“Perhaps the gods conspired for us to meet then,” she chuckled.
“I think they just might have,” I snickered as I thought about the goddess bringing me here.
Aurora went faintly pink again.
“Come on,” she said as she began to walk once more, “we are going to be late, and Abrus frowns on tardiness.”
“Something tells me he tends to frown a lot,” I mused.
The half-elf maiden’s mouth twitched as she tried to suppress a smile, but she didn’t try to correct me as we continued on.
Soon, we exited the mage’s living quarters and made our way through the Order’s underground city. As she had led me to my room last night, Aurora had said that the Order referred to their secret city as the Oculus last night, I had gotten a glimpse of the dwellings, but it had been a long day, and I hadn’t been able to appreciate everything.
In the bright light of day, however, I fought to keep my jaw from falling to the ground.
The city itself was built in the bowl of the mountain. It was shaped almost like a sports stadium, but the buildings had been constructed into the steep slopes like ancient Earth civilizations had been in isolated mountain ranges. It was insane to see how all the dwellings and structures were stacked on top of each other. The tallest building stretched nearly to the open rim over several hundred meters above the rocky floor. This must have been what humans first felt when we invented skyscrapers, but these were a hell of a lot cooler because they seemed to bend and curve with the shape of the mountain instead of being built straight up.
I craned my neck back as Aurora and I crossed directly beneath the open ceiling that hung above the city. I could see why the Order called this the Oculus. From above, I bet this collection of buildings and structures looked like a pupil in the center of the mountain’s open eye.
“You will have time to gawk later,” Aurora chastised as she wrapped her arms around my elbow and bodily tugged me forward. I stumbled slightly and was forced to drop my gaze so I wouldn’t fall on my face.
“It’s just… incredible,” I enthused breathlessly, a wild grin stretched across my face. “How did the Order build this?”
“Terra Mages, like yourself,” Aurora replied as she glanced back at me and smirked. “They hollowed out the mountain and molded the buildings from the clay.”
I looked down at the brown mark on the back of my hand, and I imagined what it would feel like to move a whole mountain. Excitement burned like a wildfire through my veins.
Would I be able to make such awesome buildings?
Could I make other stuff?
As we walked through the Oculus toward the location Abrus was presumably waiting, I finally got my first look at other mages of the Order. They all wore white robes like Aurora, but it wasn’t exactly a strict uniform. Each mage, it seemed, customized their robe according to their own preferences. Some, mostly the women, had cut them short, flashing bare, tantalizing thighs. The men typically seemed to wear them long and billowy though it seemed they also wore either white or black breeches beneath. The only similarity all the robes shared was the bright pop of thread, embroidered on their hems and the edges of their sleeves. I assumed the red was for fire mages, the blue for water, brown for earth, and silver for air.
Like Aurora had said, the mages all busied about, consumed with their various duties, but as we passed, it seemed as if they couldn’t help but look at me. Curiosity shone on their faces, and I did my best to flash them friendly smiles.
Eventually, Aurora led me across the interior of the entire Oculus, a trip that took over fifteen minutes. The half-elf maiden made her way toward a darkened doorway set along the base of the wall, stepped right through the opening, and slipped into the shadows. I followed quickly and strained my ears to listen to the Ignis Mage’s footsteps so I wouldn’t step on her.
“Not afraid of the dark, are you?” Aurora called teasingly from the abyss.
Before I could answer, I felt the zap of energy that was the precursor to magic and, a moment later, a flame leapt up in the darkness and shot down the tunnel. The fire separated in the air into dozens of separate tongues of flames, and between one breath and the next, they lit torches that were placed at intervals along the tunnel walls. The darkness gave way to a warm, cozy orange glow, and I looked over to find Aurora grinning at me.
“Better?” she smirked.
“Sorry. I can’t see in the dark,” I retorted good-naturedly with a roll of my eyes.
“We all have our flaws,” the beautiful maiden replied with a wide grin. “But at least this way, you won’t be blinded in a few moments.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll see,” Aurora singsonged as she turned to make her way down the tunnel ag
ain. Despite my best efforts, my eyes immediately fell to the curves of her hips, and as I examined her toned ass in great detail, I wondered what it would feel like to touch her.
“Are you staring at my ass?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow at me.
“Yes,” I said with an honest nod. “I’m pretty sure I could bounce a quarter off of it.”
“A quarter?” She gave me a puzzled look. “And why would it bounce off of my ass?”
“A quarter is a coin from my old kingdom. And it only means your ass is pert.” I shrugged and gestured at it by way of explanation.
“I’m glad you approve.” She gave me a sly smile. “Now, let us be on our way.”
I shook my head to clear my muddled thoughts and jogged to catch up with the gorgeous and well-proportioned Ignis Mage.
A handful of minutes later, we came to the end of the tunnel and another door. Aurora glanced back at me with a smile before she reached out and swung it open. White sunlight immediately assaulted my eyes, and I clenched them shut as they burned after being in the dim tunnel.
“Told you,” Aurora giggled melodiously.
It took a second for my eyes to adjust, but when I finally squinted them open, my jaw went slack as I stood framed in the doorway.
We had gone completely through the foothill that housed the Oculus and came out the other side. Before me stretched a vast green plain, with gentle, rolling hills and fields of pink and yellow wildflowers. To my right rose the shadow of the great mountains, their peaks obscured by white clouds and mystery, the homes of dragons and who knew what else.
The sight put me at ease, and I once again felt more at home on this strange world than I did on Earth.
I could have stared at the field all day, but directly in front of me stood Mage Abrus, and he did not look happy.
“You’re late,” he announced sharply, his already severe features made worse by the frown that cut across his face. He leaned on a tall metal staff that he had dug into the dirt before him.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Aurora beat me to it.
“Forgive me, Mage Abrus,” the half-elf said as she stepped forward and inclined her head. “It was a slight oversight on my part. It won’t happen again.”
For some reason, I hated seeing the formidable Ignis Mage bow to the man before us. My magic roiled in my veins, restless and irritated, and I cleared my throat to draw the mage’s two-toned eyes back to me.
“It wasn’t her fault,” I argued, and then I flashed my most charming smile. “I kept asking for breakfast.”
“You may eat once we are finished here,” he replied curtly.
“Fair enough,” I replied with a nonchalant shrug, even though the power in me seemed to become more aggravated in response to Abrus’ attitude. I let my gaze drift away from the older mage in an effort to center myself and will my magic calm. My eyes skipped over the emerald field of grass, dappled by the early morning sun that rose over the hill at my back.
“Why are we having the test out here?” I asked as I looked back to Abrus. “Would it not have been easier to conduct it within the Oculus?”
“I would not examine a Terra Mage within the Oculus’s walls,” the Lux Mage frowned as he sniffed disdainfully at my question. “Lest you bring the whole mountain down on our heads.”
“I may be a novice,” I said curtly with gritted teeth, “but I am not an idiot. I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I have some control over my powers.”
“I will be the judge of that,” Abrus said as he looked down his nose at me. He sounded like he only anticipated my impending failure.
“Then shall we begin?” I lifted my chin in challenge, and a wild heat rose up in my chest.
Something akin to a smirk twitched at the corner of the Lux Mage’s mouth. He bent where he stood, picked a pebble out of the grass, and tossed it to me. I snapped up my hand and caught it deftly, but that didn’t seem to impress him.
“We will start with the first test I give all Terra magus children,” he announced as he nodded to my hand. “Lift the pebble.”
I glanced between my hand and Abrus. “That’s… it? You only want me to lift the pebble?”
The Lux Mage lifted the brow above his white eye. “Can you not?”
My magic pricked at the condescension in his tone, and I took a deep breath.
“I just think this is a little rudimentary,” I replied as diplomatically as I could. “I mean, surely Aurora told you how I fought the drake yesterday. I can obviously do more than pick up a rock.”
“I apologize. I thought you had come here for instruction,” Abrus countered coolly.
Instead of responding to the older mage’s taunts, I dropped my gaze to my hand and held it in front of my chest, palm up. I took another deep, fortifying breath, and reached for the power that writhed through my veins like a living thing.
The magic responded instantaneously to my call. It burned through me as heat flooded toward my fingertips. I concentrated on the gray rock in the center of my palm and willed it upward. Before I could blink, the pebble leapt from my hand and rocketed skyward, barely more than a blur. I reigned in the magic quickly, and the pebble jerked to a halt right before my eyes. My gaze drifted back to Abrus, and I impulsively sent the rock hurtling toward him. It came to a halt half a foot from his nose.
To his credit, the mage didn’t even blink. “Very well,” he said evenly. “Now onto the second test. Come.”
Abrus had me move further out into the field behind him, away from the foothill and the entrance to the Oculus. I walked about fifty yards into the grass before the mage had me come to a stop, with the two of them between the Oculus and me. The Lux Mage’s face was creased in a frown of concentration while the half-elf maiden merely looked concerned. I met her green gaze for an instant and sent her a wink. Aurora rolled her eyes in response, but a smile played along the edges of her mouth.
“For your next task,” the older mage declared, “I will test your prowess and skill concerning the manipulation of your element.” He pointed to the twenty yards of grass between us. “Carve a trench here. Five meters long, two meters wide, and three meters deep.”
I glanced down at my feet and tried not to smirk as I recalled the sinkhole that had opened wide to swallow the drake hole. This would be a piece of cake. I took a deep breath again, summoned my magic, and envisioned the dimensions of the trench Abrus had described.
A few moments later, heat swelled inside me as my magic rushed out of me to do my bidding. The ground rumbled beneath me and then cracked in half. I held out my hand to channel my powers better, and as I watched, the trench began to take form. Dirt heaved itself to mounds on either side, dust billowed into the air, and less than a minute later, a large gash had been sliced into the earth, exactly as Abrus had described it.
Unlike with the pebble, when I released the magic this time, a small wave of reciprocal fatigue rolled over me. It lasted only for a breath, but again I thought back to the battle with the drake and how exhausted I had been afterward. Everything had a consequence, a price, an equal and opposite reaction. I needed to be mindful of my limits.
Then I needed to push on them so I could become even more powerful.
When I looked up from the hole in the ground I had just made, my eyes immediately went to Aurora. By the smirk on her lips, I knew she had been thinking of the drake battle, too.
Abrus, for some reason, didn’t look as enthused by my success. His thick, black eyebrows formed a sharp ‘v’ over his two-toned eyes as he frowned.
“Use the displaced earth to build a wall now,” he instructed curtly. He didn’t even comment on the trench. “Six feet tall, ten feet wide, and two feet thick.” Abrus practically sneered as he said the last part, “And convert it to stone.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aurora frown sharply with worry, but I shoved all thoughts of her out of my head. This was between the Lux Mage and me now.
I scowled as I looked back down and slid my feet shoulder-widt
h apart. I considered the trench and the mounds of dirt. I knew, both from my experiences and from Abrus’ attitude, that converting the dirt to stone would take considerable energy. If I faltered or passed out from exhaustion, I’d only prove Abrus’ condescension right. That wasn’t an option. I had to find a way to complete his tasks without overexerting myself. But how?
I realized that the answer was something probably taught in ‘How to be a Magus 101,’ but I was taking the crash course. I had to figure it out for myself. I frowned as I considered my dilemma, and I could practically feel Abrus’ smug smile as time continued to tick by.
Wait a second… time.
I might not be well versed in the magic of Illaria, but perhaps the answer was more logical than fantastical. In general, the quicker something is done, the more effort it takes, the faster energy is burned through. So, it stood to reason, that maybe magic operated along the same premise. If I slowed my magical output, made it more controlled, the exhaustion that came afterward wouldn’t come on as fast or be as severe as it was when I fought for my life yesterday.
With this plan in mind, I stretched out my hand and held it over the overturned dirt. I reached deep inside of me for my magic again, but instead of letting it flood through me, I called forth a small trickle, and the dirt began to shift along the ground.
I let out a little more power like I was lowering and raising a gate. The magic flowed forth in fits and starts, and while it might have looked a little awkward at first, the dirt began to consolidate, harden, and stack upward slowly. Sweat beaded along my temples and I gritted my teeth as I channeled my power like I was threading a needle.
A few minutes later, and I let the magic fall away. I inhaled deeply as my vision swam, but it righted itself quickly. I blinked and my eyes refocused. I grinned as I saw the brown wall loom above me. Abrus and Aurora were still visible to the left of the structure I had just created, and I met the Lux Mage’s eyes defiantly as I reached out and knocked against the lip of the wall.