The Reign of Magic (Pentamura Book 1)

by Awert, Wolf

  “So that mage’s intentions were really bad?” Tiriwi asked, repressing a shudder.

  Empyrade shrugged. “He probably thought little of it; most likely he only wanted to ease the conversation with you.”

  “Do you really think so, Empyrade?” For the first time she addressed the Wood mage by name.

  Empyrade shook her head. “No, but if I were you I’d stick with it. Not much more you can do about it. You can’t go running to anyone about it, because you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place, and you drank the juice willingly. Just let the matter rest.”

  Tiriwi’s own emotions slowly returned. She mainly felt anger. “How can you take this so lightly?”

  Empyrade took Tiriwi’s hand and pressed it so hard it hurt. “I’m not taking it lightly. But it’s no longer to do with you. Leave it to me, understand? Now enough of that. I’m taking you home.”

  “Home.” As if the Hermits’ Caves could ever be home. Oddly, she did not care any longer. A bed and some sleep – she had no other desires at the moment.

  Just before the entrance to the caves Empyrade said goodbye with a swift kiss on Tiriwi’s third eye and vanished. Perhaps she was in a rush; maybe she just did not want to be seen. Tiriwi had no more strength to wonder. It was very late now, and Nill and Brolok had been sleeping for a long time.

  The early morning rose slowly through the damp mist that had drifted over from the Waterways overnight. In the caves the air was dry and cool as ever, but in the entrance hall Nill already felt the sweat dripping down his back, leaving dark streaks on his shirt. Brolok was grumbling to himself, trying to keep his eyes open. Tiriwi had retreated somewhat, noticing neither the boys nor the overwhelming warmth. Like on their first day they were picked up by a guide. The guide brought them to a small yard in front of the students’ quarters, where a group of five mages was waiting for them. The eyes of the other students showed feigned indifference at best and pure loathing at worst. Occasionally a derogatory phrase drifted their way, but Brolok, Nill and Tiriwi ignored this.

  A mage of the Earth, easily recognizable by his brown cloak, informed them briefly that in their lessons today they would concern themselves with the discovery of magical energy formations out in the open.

  “Your first task will be to find the place outside of Ringwall where the most energy is concentrated. Try to feel it.”

  He opened a portal that took the group over to the other side of Knor-il-Ank, opposite the entrance and rarely visited.

  “Doesn’t it bother you that we’re always the last?” Nill asked irritably.

  Tiriwi shook her head, mute. Brolok shrugged. “That’s the way it is. Better get used to it.”

  Nill had no intention of getting used to it and glared out onto the landscape. This side of Knor-il-Ank was less smooth and rolling than the ascent to the entrance. It was rough, the sweeping slope irregularly interrupted by jutting rocks. Here and there it seemed as though the stone had simply broken out from the earth and it did not look as if it was quite finished yet. Wild, rough and in discord with itself, the slope mirrored Nill’s mood quite well.

  While Nill still quarreled with the world, the noble students had wasted no time and had moved out immediately. Prince Sergor-Don had simply marched off and was already halfway to the largest of the rocky outcroppings. Brolok, too, had little problem deciding where to go and went in a different direction. Nill still hesitated, trying to spot Tiriwi, but she had vanished from sight.

  He felt Knor-il-Ank’s magic clearly. It was all around him, in the air like wind that didn’t blow, coalescing and scattering at the same time. As if nature itself were breathing and he stood in the middle of the breath. Nill wondered whether this was the pulse of life Tiriwi had spoken of. He had no idea which direction to take. He was determined not to follow Prince Sergor-Don of Herfas-San, from the lineage of Ornbras, as all the other students did. Neither did he see much sense in blindly wandering around. But as the walls of Ringwall stood behind him and the magic seemed to flow downhill, he had little choice but to follow the group. He did so unwillingly, wearily and with an unsuccessful attempt at keeping some dignity in his step. Once he had finally reached a small hollow just before the large rocks reaching skywards before him he had lost sight of the group. Nill cursed the heat under his breath and began to climb up to the formation. After a few steps he stopped, wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes and walked back.

  Nill did not know what he had expected. It certainly hadn’t been that the little hollow seemed more concentrated in magic than the surrounding area.

  This was not the place the mages had them looking for. But why was the hollow so much more obviously magical than its surroundings? Was it supposed to coalesce here? But why? Nill felt somewhat better after having found something the others had utterly ignored.

  The hollow itself was a long, slanting fold through the slope, and ended in a wide, shallow basin. The basin’s confines were little more than man-high hummocks.

  “More earth than stone,” Nill thought to himself. He circled around the basin and climbed up the low rise, then returned to the basin. Nill heard squelching noises and looked down, finding the bottom part of his trousers damp and muddy. The area was swampier than it had looked and the mud had managed to cover his feet and quite a bit of his calves already.

  “It seems to be mostly Water magic here. Probably comes from one of the many springs. A lot more energy here than on the slope, but not really concentrated.”

  Nill wrinkled his nose. It smelled musty, old and forgotten. But it was not the familiar scent of moldering plants he had come to know back home. It was just stale.

  He compared the fumes of the earth to his memories of the pure elements, as he had witnessed them at the Sanctuary. He recognized Earth, Water and Wood. He could not be certain about Fire, and Metal held back completely. But none of the five elements gave him an explanation for the curious impression he was having of a forgotten past, of power without Fire, of a long sleep that had dreamed all there was to dream. Nill decided to wait for his teachers to explain and sat down on the small rise. At least that part was dry.

  Brolok had no difficulties. The energy, it seemed to him, was calling out for him. He did not understand why the others went the other way. All his focus was on the small white rock jutting out of the slope a short distance from the hills. He sat down on it, stretched out his legs, enjoyed the sunshine and waited.

  While the students searched for the magical spot, the five mages stood by the portal and took in the scenery.

  “They found it too quickly. I told you the task was too easy,” the Earth mage grumbled.

  “Well, of course! Every pinnacle is a magical place. Only one ignorant of magic would look elsewhere,” the Fire Mage agreed.

  “We ought to bury a magical item next time. That would be a proper challenge.”

  “Indeed. How about the Magon’s slippers?”

  The others laughed. The excursion was a welcome change from their daily routine of discipline and rigor, and the mages were quite jovial about it.

  “Let’s call them back, then. We’ve still a lot to do today,” the Earth mage suggested.

  While the mages chatted and laughed, Brolok sat in the sunshine, daydreaming. A person nearby clearing their throat pulled him back into reality.

  “Why are you sitting here, Brolok?” a gruff voice rang out.

  Brolok’s face took on a look of surprise as he stammered: “Because, uh, this – this is the place we were supposed to look for! All the… all the magical energy convenes at this spot.”

  The mages shook their heads. “Tell us what you sense, Brolok.”

  “Metal, of course. Pure Metal. Within this white quartz here there’s a very thin vein of gold, and it goes all the way down, getting bigger all the way, probably to the very core of Knor-il-Ank. Then it gets all muddled and I’m not sure any more.”

  The Earth mage smiled. “It would seem you have a special affinity for Metal and Ear
th, better than most at least. But there’s barely any Wood around here, and very little Fire. You must learn to feel the other elements as well. And down you’d best join the others on the outcropping over there. Go on.” The Earth mage gave him a pat on the back for a dismissal.

  The mages went to look for Nill.

  “What are you doing down here?” the Water mage asked. “How do you get the idea that this is the spot with the most magical energy?”

  “Because I can feel it,” Nill replied, surprised. “It’s got the most power of any place around here.”

  “There’s just a little more Water than elsewhere here. The Wood has a powerful presence too, but there’s little Earth, barely any Metal and no Fire. There is little energy here; I’m afraid you are mistaken.”

  “And the other thing? The power behind the magic? The thing that smells so old?”

  The mages exchanged looks. “There is no power behind magic, magic is power itself. As for the smell…” The Fire Mage swept Nill’s clothes with a disapproving glance.

  Something in Nill began to despair. He had finally found something extraordinary, and everything told him it was something special. He had to know what it was; yet the mages said nothing.

  Nill looked at them standing there with expressionless faces. Why were they refusing to accept that there was something coming out of the rise? His breath was coming irregularly now. No, he thought, that’s impossible. There’s no force in the world that a neophyte can feel, but a mage not. They must not like what I’ve found, for whatever reason.

  Nill stood upright and defied the common practice of lowering his head in shame, as would have been proper for a student who fails their teacher’s expectations. It was not his stubbornness that kept his back straight; it was a calm certainty inside him, something that knew he had found something. He tried again.

  “All I can say is what I feel. It isn’t just the energy that’s more concentrated here than elsewhere; it is also utterly different to the magic in the sacred grove. There’s so little Fire here that I can feel the cold, but cold itself is a sort of magical energy. And besides Water and Wood there’s something else, coming out of the rise over there.” Nill raised his arm and pointed, almost accusingly, at the hummock. “Whatever it is, I cannot tell. Perhaps a sixth element, or maybe a sphere’s magic?”

  Nill’s eyes still rested expectantly on his teachers, but the mages still said nothing. A few even closed their eyes at such idiocy. But at least they gave him the dignity of testing his claims.

  “That which you call cold magic is simply a lack of Fire, not its own type,” the mage of Metal explained, and the Earth mage nodded. “There is no sixth element, and spheres show no energy of their own. The spheres are places where particular elements work in harmony. Come now, the others are waiting.”

  Nill had learned enough not to object. He kept his silence, but his mind was a chaos of racing thoughts. “There is a magic here, a magic the mages can’t see. And it’s coming from the earth.”

  The mages hurried over to the outcropping where the other students stood. Nill ran after them as fast as his legs could carry him. I ought to learn the magic of light leaping next, he thought. That’s a comfortable way to travel. Nill was too inexperienced to know that every magic cost energy, and a mage always has to make the choice whether to exhaust his spirit or his body.

  The mages arrived at the rocks long before Nill did.

  “Why did you choose this spot?” the Earth mage asked. The young nobles exchanged looks, as though they had to pick someone to answer the question for them. It was Prince Sergor-Don who decided to step up to the task.

  “Any fool knows that magical energy surrounds pinnacles,” he said rather condescendingly. “Apart from that, every one of us was able to feel it clearly.”

  The mages gave no indication of whether or not they minded the prince’s tone of voice. The Wood mage turned to Tiriwi and said: “Some of you decided not to stand here.”

  “All due respect, sir, but she’s not one of us.” The young lady in metalworker’s clothes threw a dismissive look at the Oa, who was sitting contentedly among the grass a little way from the group.

  “Why are you over there, Tiriwi?” the Metal mage asked. “You can join us, if you like. There’s nothing to fear.” Her voice was unexpectedly friendly.

  Tiriwi got up and walked over to the group. “I’m not afraid. It’s just that over there is where I felt the most energy.”

  The Wood mage gave an astonished look and asked: “Below the peak? Why there, exactly?”

  “It’s the sun,” Tiriwi replied. “The sun is shining over onto the hill from the Wood, and soon it’ll reach its high point in the Eye of the Fire. That’s why right now, just beneath the peak, between Wood and Fire, there’s a little more energy there than on the pinnacle itself.”

  The mages nodded, but said nothing.

  The Water mage made a vague gesture into the distance. “Go further in that direction. You’ll find an old well where your next task is waiting for you. We’ll go and see where Nill and Brolok are.”

  The mention of Nill made two of the mages exchange glances and smiles. The nobles merely grimaced. They were sick of having to wait for someone less valuable than maybe an animal or a piece of armor. Why should a noble have to wait for a ram or a mule?

  Nill had caught up to Brolok in the meantime and both of them reached the rocks just shortly after the group had left. Nill was coughing, a stitch in his side, and his breath was unsteady and shallow. The last few steps up the hill had cost him a lot of strength.

  “Take a few moments. We’re late anyway, so whatever. We might as well be properly late,” Brolok recommended. But the mages were already ushering them along, as they had already lost a lot of time. They took long, leaping steps towards the well, leaving Nill and Brolok to run after them again as quickly as they could. Utterly breathless and exhausted they reached the next point of interest, where they were to learn of their next task.

  The mages stood around the well, discussing their own business. The nobles had taken the time to have a bit of a break; they stood in small groups, chatting and laughing. Some were sitting on the ground, playing dice with rune bones. Prince Sergor-Don stood, lost in thought, eyes closed, as if he were somewhere else entirely.

  A few of them were staring at Nill in animosity. Nill cared not and stared back. Their mouths were dragged downwards in distaste, the word “muckling” was muttered, and even Nill marveled at the amount of disdain they managed to put into the word. Nill did not turn his gaze away in shame, but the isolated titters and murmurs put his resolve to the test. A girl in the rich maroon brown of Earthland went so far as to point out his muddied trousers.

  “The pig’s been wallowing.”

  “That’s the case with all mucklings. Leave them out of your sight for a few days and you’ll have a hard time telling them from your herd. You’ve no idea of the work my father had to keep them clean.”

  “Maybe he went and visited his mother. I’ve heard she lives around here.”

  There was a small amount of laughter, but Nill’s cheeks burned with shame. He had no answer to these insults, and all he could do was let them bounce off him. Only the white knuckles of his fists displayed his feelings.

  Brolok stood next to him and laid an arm around his shoulder. This time he was not lowering his head in reverence, but looking around at the others, showing them clearly that Nill was not alone. He whispered: “Let them be. They’ve no other way. I like to imagine what they’d do without the mucklings. I guess they’d have to give up their luxury and live with the animals as well.”

  Nill’s blood was still boiling. “I’ll show them. I’ll show them all. Trust me, Brolok. That’s a promise!”

  The old well was situated in a basin at the foot of Knor-il-Ank. The old stones that kept its shape were broken and strong roots had crawled all over it. Prince Sergor-Don had sat down on the rim and was tossing small pebbles into the water. He seemed bore
d, as he so often did. The red-robed nobles from the Fire Kingdom surrounded him. Two tall girls from Woodhold were teasing a strong young fellow and two students that looked a little older than the rest were comparing weapons, disagreeing whether sabers or swords were better for parrying attacks.

  “Sit down and listen,” the blue-robed mage called, silencing the group. “The water in this well has been living with Knor-il-Ank for a long time, and as such it’s full of energy. It’s a different kind of water than what you’ll find in mud-holes and puddles, the kind of water that’s been shone on by the sun and moved by the air. Take your spirits and descend down the well into the water, and feel the essence of it. It will change you. Who dares go first on the path of Water?”

  More than half the students leapt up, three young men in the dark blue garb of the Water-people stepped forward. Their speaker bowed deeply before the teachers and said: “My name is Fien-Per, of the lineage of Unda, and these are my brothers. As members of the royal house of the Waterways we would offer to explore the element we call home.”

  The Water mage nodded and said: “Please stand so all can see you properly.”

  The three students took their places around the well, making sure that their faces were visible to their teachers and their fellows. Fien-Per took another step to the side, blocking Nill’s, Tiriwi’s and Brolok’s view.

  Nill snorted derisively. An aura may just as well be read from behind, he thought contemptuously.

  “Now then, we will see if Water truly is your element,” the Water mage was saying.

  Nill waited, full of anticipation of whether or not the Water would change the three students, and whether he would be able to see it by their aura. The three auras seemed to fuse together, becoming darker. Nill was surprised. He had expected the close proximity to the mighty Water to empower the auras. But their strength was unchanged, the Water more influencing their colors.