The Reign of Magic (Pentamura Book 1)

by Awert, Wolf

  Gweddon let the sanctity of the place make its impression on Nill, Brolok and Tiriwi before he began to explain. He kept it surprisingly short. “The pentagram with the five symbols of pure energy is a place of self-awareness. You will find mages here at any hour, and they will be in direct contact with the elements to try find out more about magic. Even the archmages come here – so I’ve heard.”

  Nill’s gaze wandered from one symbol to the next. They stood not only for magic, but also for the five directions and the five kingdoms. Fire, of course, was for the Fire Kingdom, where the sun was hottest. Next to it, the tree – this was for Woodhold. The basalt column on Fire’s other side stood for Earthland, Nill’s home. Metal World was across the border from Earthland, symbolized by the dark crystal. The Waterways lay between Metal World and Woodhold. He had heard that there were many swamps there. And at the center of these five kingdoms stood Ringwall atop Knor-il-Ank. This was where the Sanctuary differed from the real world, for at the center of these five elements was nothing more than pale grass. Even the grass was barely visible. Nill could not make out any defined shapes. There was a wavering about it, but no real form. Nill had the impression that there was nothing at all there, or at least very close to nothing. He felt a cold chill run down his spine.

  “What’s in the middle of the pentagram?” he asked.

  “What do you mean? There’s nothing there, you can see that,” Brolok grunted.

  “You’re right,” Nill said. “There is nothing, but not in the way you might think.”

  “You can see the Nothing?” the White Mage asked, astonished. “Nill, what is it you see?”

  “I see the Nothing there, because there is nothing there,” Nill answered. “I mean, absolutely nothing. It’s not that I can’t see anything or make out any shapes, there is actually nothing there. I don’t know, I can’t describe it.”

  He was very agitated. He expected an explanation, but Gweddon said nothing. He tore his gaze away from Nill and asked Tiriwi: “And what about you? What do you see?”

  “I see as little as Nill does. The middle there has no magical energy and no contents.”

  “No!” Nill protested feverishly. “There is a great deal of magical energy there. More than anywhere around here. Can’t you feel it?”

  “There in the center is Nothingness,” Gweddon said. “The source of all magic and all being. We need not worry whether the spot holds all the magic in the world or none at all. The Nothing is of interest to the old ones, those who like to figure out all the deepest mysteries of the world. The Nothing is unimportant to you.”

  “So the magic of Nothing is good for nothing, then,” Brolok grinned, amused at his own wordplay.

  Gweddon nodded, and Brolok accepted the matter as cleared up.

  In Nill’s mind his thoughts raced in circles. If Tiriwi had the guts to argue with a mage, it was because she was honest. So if she said there was no magic at that spot, it had to be true. But why did he sense it there, if he had far less experience than she? And was this not exactly as it had been in the Valley of Unhappy Trees? He had not managed to convince Dakh that there was a magic at work that had nothing to do with the five elements. For him, Nill, it was an old magic, but he did not understand why. He gasped for breath.

  The old magic from the forest had not been the magic of Nothing, but he had encountered it since, here in Ringwall. Where had it been? It was here. Weak, disguised, a single track among countless footprints. Nill straightened up. He would find it, he was certain. That still left Gweddon, whom Nill was coming more and more to regard with distrustful eyes. The Nothing was not unimportant. Why would he lie?

  Nill’s thoughts were interrupted when Gweddon asked them to stand in front of the pentagram to feel the different magics of the elements. “Metal feels like Metal, Earth like Earth. Fire is hot and Water is wet and cold. And plants. I can’t feel much at all,” Brolok said.

  For a moment Nill forgot about the Nothing and the old magic. What was it with the elements again? Metal had a taste that differentiated it from all other magics. Water was could not be grasped as it was in constant motion. He could feel the magic of Water quite clearly. But each time he tried to concentrate on it, it flowed away. Fire, too, moved, but it was light and had little substance. He did not understand Earth. Its energy was just there. Everywhere, mighty and inert. He could feel it, but not move or alter it. And the plants? Nill had to laugh. It was a game, there was talking and laughing, holding on and letting go. Wood magic was probably good for a lot of things.

  Tiriwi simply said: “I can tell the five elements apart. I don’t know how or why, but they’re all unrelated.”

  “We’ll see,” Gweddon replied. “If this is all so easy, you can probably tell the five magics inside you apart as well, can you not?”

  “Sure,” Tiriwi answered.

  “That’s too easy,” Brolok said. “I have Metal in my hands, Earth in my feet, Water and Fire keep back until I call upon them. I have no Wood, but then again, I’m not a tree.” Brolok laughed at his joke; the rest of them did not.

  Nill probed inside himself and was startled as he noticed the magical torrents within his body. Depending on which symbol he gave his attention to, he felt more Fire or Wood, more Earth or Water. Metal was ever present, he noticed, as the taste had not left him. If he ignored the symbols it all became a jumbled mess. He shook his head. “They’re all there, but where and when I can’t say.”

  “You’ve not had any contact with magic.” It was more a statement than a question.

  “The other students are ahead of you there. It’s probably best if you choose the energy that spoke to you most while you were feeling the Sanctuary. It’s usually Fire or Water. They’re the easiest to feel,” Gweddon suggested.

  Nill nodded. He had made his decision. He would choose Wood. The most mysterious of all five elements. The sole element that seemed to hide behind the others. He loved the smooth and lively feel of Wood. The strength of the tough fiber, the space between the branches and leaves where the wind whistled, the emergence of life after the first rain. He was about to make his life a lot more difficult again, but he did not know that.

  “First you will need to learn to read the energies inside you and that surround you. The more you understand of the world, the more powerful your magic becomes and the less strength you have to put into it. Come.”

  Gweddon turned around abruptly and made towards the exit. He stroked a wall with his hand and opened up a flight of stairs that led up.

  Nill gave Brolok a bewildered glance.

  “How are we supposed to find our way around when there are secret paths, portals and doors all over the place?” he asked in an undertone.

  “Most of them aren’t secret at all,” Brolok said. “Earth and Metal magic are weaker on the doors than on the walls, unless the doors are meant to be hidden. But this right here is a normal door.”

  “You can feel that?” Nill asked, his eyes wide.

  “Of course. Can’t you?”

  By now they had reached the end of the stairs. One last step and they were on top of the wall of Ringwall.

  “Come here, you can have a good look at the land. Let’s go and take a look at what gives Ringwall its power,” the mage announced, walking across the width of the wall with long steps.

  “This here is the inner ring,” Gweddon said portentously, making a sweeping gesture with one arm. “We have an unimpeded view of the peak of Knor-il-Ank.”

  “Why wasn’t Ringwall built as a normal city atop the hill?” Brolok asked.

  “That was not possible,” the mage answered. “Knor-il-Ank pulls magical energy from deep within the earth, sends it to the peak and lets it flow down its sides. The inner ring of Ringwall collects a part of this magic. It helps the mages here with their work. A part of it flows through under the city and is felt all the way down to Rainhir.

  “When the world came into being it decided to forge a connection with the cosmos. It created a mount
ain that began deep within it and grew far into the sky. It was the only mountain on a world covered by water, and it grew until it disappeared in the clouds, broke through them and kissed the sky’s feet with its peak. The world sent all its energy into this mountain. The conversation was short and nobody now knows what was spoken then. But the world seemed content, for the mountain stopped growing. The world was tired, its energy spent, hanging in imbalance with itself because now on one side there was an almighty mountain that was not countered by anything on the other side. It took a long time for wind, weather and ice to wear down the mountain. The material transported by the rivers into the sea made up the land that we now know as Pentamuria. The vestige of the proud mountain is this, Knor-il-Ank, an old, grumpy hill. But still its roots reach far down into the earth and they are still fed by the fires inside the world. If you ever want to feel Earth and Metal magic, go to the peak. By the way, this mountain here is not the full Knor-il-Ank. All the hills surrounding us belong to it too.”

  “That is a nice story,” Tiriwi said quietly. “You never know what’s true in these old legends and what’s been added by the people.”

  “Wouldn’t it be important to find that out?” Nill asked.

  Tiriwi thought for a moment. “I don’t know. The things that the people have added over time are also truths. They combined their own experiences and truths with the legend. It is difficult to tell what the old ones thought of as important and what they did not. The things that are too high get taken down first. I think this is an important truth. And still there will always be something that wants to grow further than anything. The world did bring forth new mountains and ridges later, even if there was no second Knor-il-Ank among them.”

  Nill was not satisfied with this answer. If the hill brought magical energy from the center of the world to the surface and distributed it there, then that had little to do with truths and stories. It was a fact, and it could be felt by everyone with an affinity to magic. Nill decided to research these things more thoroughly, and he already knew how: the mighty door in the Hermits’ Caves. Was it not possible – nay, probable – that the corridor led deep into the interior of Knor-il-Ank, that it could be the path to being very close to the mountain’s energy? If the magic of Knor-il-Ank was collected by the inner ring, why should there not be a direct connection as well? This would certainly explain the legendary power of the archmages.

  Whilst Nill was still considering how best to open the door he heard the mage say: “That’ll be enough for today. I’d recommend each of you to explore Ringwall and search for Fire’s energy. Look for it in the huge patterns and small decorations of the world. Look where it controls everything, where it is controlled and where it works together with other magics. Searching for and finding magic is something that every mage practices for a very long time. A single lifetime isn’t enough to find it all. Come back here tomorrow.”

  And with those words he turned on his heel, took a few long steps and vanished into the wall before the students could even say “ah” or “oh.”

  “So that was our first day’s lesson,” Nill said. “I expected it to be very different.”

  “How so?” Brolok asked.

  “Well, I always thought they’d be teaching us spells and summoning and the like.”

  “Yea,” Brolok agreed, “that’s how I started with magic. My grandfather taught me a few simple spells first.”

  Tiriwi shook her head. “Seems like you two don’t understand a thing about magic. Every spell releases magical energies. Everyone should know that you can only release something you’ve collected and restrained, and to collect it you need to know where and how to find it. Oas watch the magical energies for many years before singing their first song.”

  This was an exceptionally long speech for Tiriwi. She turned around in a manner similarly brusque to the way their teacher had done and made her way to the Hermits’ Caves. Brolok and Nill followed hurriedly. The corridors were confusing and narrow and without a guide it took a while for Tiriwi, Brolok and Nill to find their way. They were debating whether it would be quicker to go along a lower floor or if they should follow the main corridor when they heard a loud shout from behind them.

  “Make way, scum!”

  Nill spun about and saw the other students and their teacher coming towards them quickly.

  Brolok immediately pressed himself against the wall, pulled in his chest and belly and dropped his head in a respectful way. His right arm was slightly raised as though he could not decide whether to greet or scratch his head. His left hung by his side, weakly swinging next to his leg.

  Tiriwi and Nill stepped aside, making a path the mage easily passed through. The next student followed and gave Nill a painful blow to the shoulder before punches rained down on him. Brolok’s submissive stance left him quite unscathed. He caught a few knees deftly with his left hand and parried any punches that were aiming for his face with his right hand. The strikes he sustained to his ribs and chest were softened by his thick clothing.

  Nill was the mob’s preferred target. The nobles were apparently delighted at having someone smaller and lighter than them to throw about. Nill was a tough lad, but he could not fight back. To fight he would have needed a secure stand, and so he was left trying to stay upright.

  Tiriwi received a punch to the mouth that cracked her lower lip. Unable to move with surprise and pain she found herself looking at a young woman’s hate-filled face surrounded by a cowl decorated with many precious jewels.

  “You don’t seem to know how to behave yet, strumpet. You’ll have to learn the hard way.”

  And with these words she struck Tiriwi across the face with the back of her hand.

  Tiriwi screamed. She screamed with pain, surprise, shock and incomprehension. Her scream did not want to stop and she kept screaming while her tormentors lay squirming on the floor, their hands covering their ears in a desperate bid to shut out the sound. It was a futile effort, for Tiriwi’s scream needed no ears to be heard. It hit the brain right where it feels the safest: deep in the stem, at the center of feelings, where thoughts are born and give direction and strength before the words to describe them are formed. Only two people had managed not to be overwhelmed by the scream. Prince Sergor-Don was clawing at the wall with agony in his face, unable to move. His will alone kept him on his feet, and nobody could tell how much that cost him. The other one was the mage. He stood there with a vacant expression on his face, as though he had retreated within himself.

  Tiriwi felt a hand pressing on her head, trying to stifle the scream. But she fought it, shook off the mage’s mind-hand. Tiriwi was strong, injured, and very, very angry.

  The mage burned Tiriwi’s feet, weighed down her arms with Water, made her heart race to bring panic up through her neck, blinded her eyes. He shook the five energies in Tiriwi’s body to confusion. But still Tiriwi fought. She shook and shivered under the attack of magic, she cooled the Fire, sent the Water back where it came from, calmed her heart, stopped the shaking in her legs and freed her eyes. She managed to drive out the outside magic and restore order in her body. But the strength it cost her silenced her scream. For a moment there was silence in the corridor apart from coughing and wretched groaning.

  The mage gave a short nod. “Get up. The calm is restored, the altercation is over. Come.”

  The nobles followed their teacher. Some were stumbling and still shaken, but others had regained some of their strength and were giving Tiriwi, Nill and Brolok murderous glares.

  “That was awful,” Nill groaned.

  “What’s so awful about a couple of bruises?” Brolok asked with a grin.

  “Not the bruises,” Nill said, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Tiriwi’s scream.”

  “That knocked me down too. They’ll think twice about challenging that kind of thing in the future,” Brolok said happily.

  “But why did they even attack us?” Tiriwi asked. Her breath was still uneven as she carefully l
icked her wound. “I don’t understand it. We made way and let them through as they wanted. If we can’t understand why they behave the way they do, our entire time here in Ringwall is going to be one long battle.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Brolok asked incredulously. “They’re the lords, or at least future lords of Pentamuria, and we’re their subjects. The fact that we’re all here in Ringwall to learn magic makes no difference to the fact. They didn’t do anything apart from show us who’s in charge and who’s not.”

  “That has nothing to do with me. I am no leader, and I’m no servant either. I am a free Oa from the forests of Woodhold.” Tiriwi had drawn herself up and now stood in the corridor like a queen. Nill gazed up at her admiringly, but Brolok could only smile in pity.

  “The nobles see it differently. You may be free in your village or your hamlet or whatever. But here in the five kingdoms you either lead or follow. There’s no middle ground. And if you should succeed in showing the world that you’re actually different, no leader and no follower, then you’ll be marked an intruder and as such an enemy to be hunted down.”

  “The world can’t be as simple as you make it out to be, not even in Pentamuria. But I’ll consider it,” Tiriwi said seriously.

  “It’ll be hard defending ourselves from so many,” Nill said. “They’ll probably try something different next time.”

  “You bet,” Brolok answered. “I’d wager they’ll all sit down together the moment the mage says the lesson’s over and plot how best to take revenge on us. They’ve made it a thing of honor now.”

  “And I can’t even do any magic yet,” Nill stated sadly. “Tiriwi, you’ll have to show me a few spells. They’ll probably try it with magic next time.”

  “What?” Tiriwi had stopped walking so abruptly that Brolok had run into her. “Have you still not understood what I’ve been telling you all this time? No!” Tiriwi shook her head emphatically. “No spells!”

  “None?” Nill stood there, very bemused.

  “If you start using magic you won’t give a demon about the consequences, and if something bad happens you’ll just say: ‘Oh, I didn’t mean that to happen.’ You have no idea how awful it is for me to be here where everyone is just playing around thoughtlessly with magic.”