by Eric Vall
“You have slept for twelve hours,” the half-elf maiden said slowly. She looked at me like I had grown a second head.
“Sounds like I got double the amount I usually get then,” I responded with a grin. “I’m right as rain.”
“Your magic needs more time to replenish itself,” Aurora argued with a frown.
“So, I’ll grab some food on the way to see Abrus,” I countered with a shrug. Like it had heard me, my stomach gurgled hollowly at that exact moment.
“Abrus has convened a council of other higher mages to discuss the implication of your powers,” she informed me as her face creased with worry.
It was my turn to frown. “What does that mean?” I asked.
The Ignis Mage sighed and fiddled with one of the small braids in her hair, and I now recognized it as her normal nervous gesture. “It means the Order is concerned that your powers, new and never before seen, could potentially pose a threat to Illaria.”
“A threat?” I repeated incredulously. I sat up straighter in bed with indignation and struggled to swing my feet to the floor. “I came to Illaria for… for instruction! To learn and experience everything this beautiful kingdom has to offer. I would never seek to harm it.”
Aurora opened her mouth to respond, but it was Abrus’ voice that echoed out across the infirmary.
“That is comforting to hear, Terra Mage Flynt,” the elder mage intoned as he walked toward me. As he moved, his robe poured across the floor like a spilled bottle of Whiteout. His face was stern, but I had come to the conclusion that he always looked like that.
His two-toned eyes regarded me impassively, the white one more than a little disconcerting with its lack of discernible movement and solid, ghostly surface. I swallowed past my dry throat, and my Adam’s apple bobbed with an audible click.
“Mage Abrus,” I greeted as I dipped my chin respectfully. “I’ve been informed that you held a meeting in my honor.”
“Well, it is not every day a new form of magic is discovered,” Abrus said evenly as the side of his mouth twitched. “It warranted a discussion.”
“And what conclusion did you reach?” I asked. I fought to keep the concern and eagerness out of my voice. I needed to seem as calm as possible and to not give anything away. I might have bested Abrus in combat, but I was not so prideful as to ignore the mage’s power and influence as head of the Order. If he were against me, mastering my magic would prove vastly more difficult.
“Tell me again why you have come to Serin, to Illaria.” The Lux Mage regarded me coolly. His face betrayed nothing, and as his two-toned eyes scrutinized every inch of my person, I was reminded of a hawk, considering its prey.
I frowned. This was another test.
“As I said before,” I replied in a measured tone, “I have come seeking instruction. There are no mages where I’m from, so I traveled a great distance to find someone to teach me.”
“And what of your own kingdom?” Abrus countered. “Your family? Do you not owe them some allegiance?”
“I never knew my real parents,” I confessed to the older mage as I shook my head. “Either they died, or they did not want me. I was raised for a time by kind strangers, but they passed away many years ago. I have no other family, and as for my kingdom…” I trailed off with a shrug. “There was nothing left for me there at all. I have no desire to return. I merely want to move forward and build an honest life here, in Illaria.”
“What do you envision in this ‘honest life’? What is it that you want?” he asked as he pursed his thin lips. His tone had lost some of its sharpness, but it was still imposing.
I opened my mouth to respond but then was forced to pause to consider his question. What did I want from this life? I hadn’t had a lot of time to give it any real consideration. I thought back to my life on Earth. I recalled the monotony, how everything had always seemed so lackluster and… boring. I then thought back to my meeting with Nemris and the revelation she had bestowed upon me. In past lives, I had been a hero, enough of one to garner the favor of a beautiful, eternal goddess. Now, in this life, I had been granted powers beyond my wildest dreams.
The choice was obvious.
“I want to help,” I replied as I lifted my chin to meet his penetrating gaze. “If you will teach me and help me master my powers, I want to use them to aid and protect Illaria. It would be the least I could do in return.”
The Lux Mage almost looked surprised by my response. I saw something flash through his brown eye, but it was gone too quickly for me to identify. “You would become a Defender?”
I considered the question. Defender of Illaria. Defender Mason Flynt, a mage of earth and metal. Yeah, I liked the sound of that.
I nodded to Abrus. “Yes.”
There was a beat of silence that followed my declaration. Abrus rubbed at his pointed chin, and his eyes glassed over as he gazed into the middle distance. In my peripherals, I saw Aurora smile encouragingly at me.
After what felt like an eternity, Abrus’ eyes refocused, and he cleared his throat. “Then so it shall be. If you pledge your fealty to the kingdom and swear to protect it against all our adversaries, I will offer you whatever aid I can. Together, we will discover how to master your control over metal.”
A part of me was thrilled that the Lux Mage, despite any misgivings, ultimately decided to help me. However, I detected a hint of hunger in this voice as he spoke the last sentence, and it gave me pause. Warning bells went off at the back of my head, soft at first but steadily growing in volume.
Despite my honesty and straight answers, I felt that Abrus was almost too easy to convince, especially as I recalled the fear and shock in his gaze when I had melted his staff. He should have been warier of me, but instead, he was eager, which meant he had to have an ulterior motive. I considered the Lux Mage carefully, but he gave away nothing else. Besides, I needed his blessing and aid if I was going to hone this power that now ran rampant through my veins. I needed Abrus.
But that didn’t mean I had to trust him.
With that in mind, I slowly rose off the bed and came to stand on my feet. My entire body protested, but I clenched my jaw, straightened my spine, and held out my hand to the older mage. I thought a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was gone before I could be sure.
“Does this mean we have reached an accord?” Abrus asked and, this time, there was no mistaking the smug tone in his voice. I didn’t know exactly what the Lux Mage was planning, but he really thought I was stupid enough to go along blindly with it, just like he thought I was weak enough to lose our duel.
It seemed like I was destined to prove him wrong twice then.
“We have,” I replied with a sharp smile.
Abrus’ mouth twitched again as he reached out and took my offered hand. Like every time before, the older mage’s touch caused my magic to recoil beneath my skin. I might not be incredibly in tune with my powers yet, but I knew an instinctual, gut reaction when I felt one. My magic didn’t seem to trust Abrus either. This meant I had to be twice as cautious.
I looked over to the half-elf maiden and found her grinning at me. Despite my misgivings about the Lux Mage before me and the situation I had found myself in, I couldn’t help but smile back at the blue-haired beauty. Whatever happened with Abrus and the Order, I was glad to have been found by the half-elf.
“I will give you the rest of the day to recover from our duel,” Abrus said, and I turned my attention back to him. “When I return in the morning, we’ll begin your training.”
“Sounds good,” I replied with a nod. Then, I glanced back at Aurora and flashed her a grin. Maybe I could spend the rest of the day with the gorgeous half-elf, and she could show me around.
Or show me some other things. Like what was beneath her robe for example.
Aurora smiled coyly back at me as if she were thinking the same thing, but then Abrus cleared his throat.
“Do you not have duties that need attending to, Defender Solana?” the Lux M
age asked pointedly.
The half-elf blinked in surprise and then winced. “Of course, Mage Abrus. I will see to my tasks right now.”
Abrus quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything more before he spun on his heel and swept out the door with his white robes swirling behind him like an octopus’ legs.
“Oops,” I cringed when he was gone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
Aurora sighed and shook her head. “It is not your fault. I chose to come here. I… wanted to make sure you were alright.”
A faint blush bloomed on the half-elf’s cheeks, and a broad grin stretched across my face in response.
“I’m much better now,” I replied. “I mean, how could I not be after waking up to such a beautiful sight? My only wish is that you could stay longer so I could recover faster.”
The red color on Aurora’s cheeks darkened, and she looked like she was going to roll her eyes and reply with something sarcastic, but then the half-elf paused and considered me carefully with her green eyes.
“I… wish I could stay, too,” the beautiful maiden admitted quietly. She lifted her gaze to mine, and I could see in their emerald depths that she was sincere.
A warm feeling spread through my chest.
“We’ll have to make up for it later then, won’t we?” I asked as the heat from my chest spread to my groin.
The half-elf fiddled with one of her braids as she averted her eyes. “That we shall. I’ll leave you to rest now, Mason. If you need anything, there should be healers coming in and out of the infirmary for the rest of the day. Simply let one of them know.”
“And if I need you?” I replied boldly.
Aurora met my gaze again as she started to walk backward toward the door. “I will return when I can. Try not to miss me too much.” She flashed me a coy smile, and I was struck once again by how beautiful she was.
“Alas, fair maiden,” I declared as I clutched dramatically at my heart. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”
Aurora raised an intrigued eyebrow as she reached the doorway. “Are you a poet as well, Terra Mage Flynt?”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” I said as I laid back on the bed and folded my hands behind my head. “Guess you’ll have to get to know me better.”
“I look forward to it,” the half-elf responded, and then she slipped out the door and was gone. The only trace of her that remained was the faint, clean smell of pine trees.
I grinned as I let my eyes slip closed.
“I’m looking forward to it, too,” I muttered just as sleep began to tug me back into that dark oblivion.
Chapter 7
I swam through the sands of my dreams as drums crashed around me. They grew louder and louder as I kicked toward the surface of consciousness. By the time I opened my eyes, the noise was almost deafening.
“What the hell?” I grumbled as I sat up in bed. The infirmary was dark around me, and I felt disoriented. What time was it?
I turned toward the continuing racket and saw the door to the infirmary shudder in its frame. Before I could move, the door swung open to reveal Mage Abrus standing in the threshold.
“Still asleep, Terra Mage Flynt?” the elder mage asked with a quirked eyebrow. “It is past breakfast already.”
“Sorry,” I grunted as I swung my feet to the floor. The icy stones stung my soles, and I hissed as I came fully awake. “I-I must have slept the rest of the day and through the night. The last thing I remember was speaking with Aurora before she left.”
“Well, it seems you have rested more than enough then,” the Lux Mage said curtly. He spun on his heel, and his white robe whirled behind him. “Come. Follow me.”
“Where are we…?” I tried to ask but then Abrus swept out of the threshold. By the sound of his receding footsteps, I guessed he wasn’t waiting for me to ask any questions.
I barely had time to stumble out of bed, pull on clothes, and race down the hall after him. Despite his age, he kept a clipped pace that didn’t give me a lot of time for questions or rather didn’t give him time to answer. So, a few minutes later, I was rubbing at my tired eyes while I followed the older mage through the Oculus.
“Where are we going, Mage Abrus?” I asked for the fourth time. He led me in an unfamiliar direction to a portion of the underground city I had not seen yet.
Abrus glanced sparingly over his shoulder but did not slow his pace. “While your foundational education of being a Terra Mage is important, your metal manipulation abilities are too startling a discovery to not investigate immediately. We must see the extent of what you can truly do.”
With that said, the Lux Mage brought me directly to the Oculus’s blacksmith, and we had all but commandeered his shop.
The workshop was a fairly large space, with multiple forges set along the back wall. The middle of the room was taken up by various anvils, vats of water, and tables to hammer, cool, and shape the molten metals. Numerous tools and weapons hung on the walls, from hammers and sickles to swords and daggers.
“This is where we will be testing your newfound skills.” Abrus gestured around the workshop. “Thank Odger here for being generous enough to lend us his workshop.”
I turned to the blacksmith that stood in the corner with his arms crossed in front of him. He was a large, barrel-chested man with salt and pepper hair and hard black eyes.
“Just be sure not to break anything, yes?” Odger said to me with a steely glare. “I don’t take kindly to fixing other people’s mistakes.”
“I will return it as I found it,” I assured him with a solemn nod.
The blacksmith scrutinized me from head to toe and then snorted. He didn’t say another word before he turned on his heel and stomped out of the workshop.
“Pay him no mind,” Abrus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Odger has issues with sharing. Blacksmiths tend to work better alone, I have found.”
“Duly noted,” I muttered before I clapped my hands together. “So, how do you want to get started? Should we begin with some armor or go straight to swords and daggers?”
Abrus raised a single eyebrow and then reached out and plucked something off the table beside him. He held out his hand, and when I opened mine, he dropped whatever he had picked up into my palm.
“You will start here,” he instructed.
I blinked and looked down at my hand.
“Is… this an ingot?” I asked as I poked at the gray rectangle of metal. It was about the size and shape of a domino and glinted faintly in the dim light of the workshop.
“Yes,” Abrus replied, “one of iron. Now, melt it.”
I looked back up at the Lux Mage and raised my eyebrows. “That’s all?”
“Are you questioning my instruction again, Terra Mage Flynt?” Abrus asked as he narrowed his eyes.
I winced at the elder mage’s razor sharp tone. It seemed like he really wasn’t used to being questioned or doubted.
“I meant no offense, Mage Abrus,” I said as I bowed my head, “I just meant that we had both witnessed my ability to melt metal during our duel. Should we not move on to a more intricate task or test?”
The Lux Mage pursed his lips and scrutinized me with his two-toned eyes. “That was in the heat of battle. We now need to test what these new powers are capable of and what your limits are. We start from the beginning. Melt the ingot.”
I wanted to argue, but I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere. I didn’t know Abrus very well, but I knew that he was stubborn. It would be quicker and easier to simply go along with his tedious tests, kick their asses like I had with the Lux Mage’s previous trials, and then prove myself ready to move on to what I really wanted to make: weapons.
So, I bit my tongue, dropped my eyes to the piece of metal in my hand, and summoned my magic.
Since I had slept for nearly a full day, my power was well-rested, replenished, and eager to answer my call. It bubbled up inside of me like a geyser and warmth rushed down my arm to my
upturned palm. As I watched, my hand began to glow a pale silver. It started in the veins and then spread down my wrist and into my fingers. My whole hand felt like it was immersed in a hot bath, and then the ingot began to turn orange around the edges. Within seconds, it had started to bubble, and by the time a full minute had passed, I held a molten, gray puddle in my hand.
Even though it was something simple, I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face.
“So cool,” I muttered to myself as I tilted my palm back and forth. The melted iron slid to the edges of my hand, but my magic kept it from dripping off.
Abrus tried to keep his face neutral and seem unimpressed, but the gleam in his eye gave him away. When he caught me staring, he frowned.
“Mold the metal into a ring now,” he said curtly. “No, two rings. One that could fit on your wrist like a manacle and another the size of your finger.”
“A manacle? Like a handcuff?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek and wondered if the Lux Mage was deliberately trying to get under my skin.
When he raised his eyebrow at me again, as if daring me to challenge him, I knew that he was.
Well, two could play that game.
I summoned my magic again and willed it to complete Abrus’ test. My brow furrowed in concentration as my fingertips glowed silver again. The melted metal began to bubble once more, and then it separated into two puddles, one larger and one smaller. I focused on the larger one first and glanced at my wrist to gauge the size. As I watched, the iron began to reform into a thick gray circle. It spun in the center of my palm as it took on its new shape, like a potter’s wheel did when molding clay.
I could feel Abrus’ eyes pinned on me, so I decided to show off a little bit. Before the larger ring was even complete, I started forming the smaller one. Within moments, two gray circles spun in my hand, like tops on a table.