The Reign of Magic (Pentamura Book 1)

by Awert, Wolf

  That can’t have been all, can it? Nill wondered. He dropped his reservations and let his spirit be carried by the three students. With some delight he noticed that it was far easier to follow others than to find his own way. A few short moments later he had reached the surface of the Water, broken through it, and was diving into the black abyss. He had lost sight of the three others, and he didn’t really care. He began to take note of his surroundings, impatiently flitting around. As long as he was in the middle of the well, he felt the presence of the Water as a solid body. It had permeated the rocks of the well, dismissing their potential Fire. There was a very strong taste of Metal, and a hint of Earth was there as well. The deeper he delved into the well, the more pronounced the Earth became, the Water becoming less and less dominant. Nill was suddenly startled by the sheer breadth of the well; up until now it had been a straight pillar of water, but now it branched out like the roots of a gigantic plant, digging deep into the earth in all directions. Nill decided to follow one of the larger flows which frayed out into countless tiny trickles. The Water flowed through the stones like a net, the air between its mesh replaced with rock. Nill realized that he had lost his way and found his body dissolving and falling apart.

  “I’m doing something wrong,” he thought. “I shouldn’t be giving unto the Water; the opposite should happen.”

  He tried to find the strength of Earth somewhere in the Water, but to no avail. He gasped for breath, although his physical body was standing quite innocuously among the other students above ground, and he felt a gentle tugging, threatening to tear him apart.

  No, Nill thought, no. With the thought of body light, water heavy he pulled away from the energy below that was attempting to break him and looked around for an exit. He did not know the way, but he remembered that Prince Sergor-Don had dropped some pebbles into the well earlier. He focused on the Earthen energy within the stones and saw a golden band before him. “The Water remembers,” he heard Tiriwi’s voice murmur, and he followed the band to the surface.

  “Idiot!” Tiriwi cursed under her breath. She was standing with Nill and Brolok now and did not care to explain what she meant.

  Nill whispered: “The Water’s memories are golden.”

  Tiriwi furrowed her brow.

  When Nill opened his eyes, he found himself being scrutinized by all the students and the teacher. Prince Sergor-Don had adopted a scornful smile. The other’s eyes conveyed nothing but animosity.

  “How dare you enter the well while we’re inside it?” Fien-Per snarled. “Who do you think you are, trying to rush past the sons of royalty?”

  Fien-Per was the tallest of the three sons. He radiated the authority of an old dynasty, but the deep red cloud of anger surrounded him, turning his watery blue aura a vicious shade of violet.

  Nill had no intention of backing down. “We’re all students here, all trying to understand and learn the powers of magic. Your blood is no advantage to you here. In the end we’ll see who’s good and who’s bad. That’s all I have to say.”

  Prince Sergor-Don’s evil smile widened. He raised his hand and looked around at the others. “I agree with the muckling,” he said to everyone’s astonishment. He turned towards Nill.

  “We accept your challenge. You’ll have ample opportunity to prove yourself against us in the following days.” There was cold, cruel amusement etched into every line of his face, giving it an eerie sort of shine.

  Tiriwi stepped in front of Nill and Brolok. Looking at the mages she said: “Why do you do nothing? Do you really want a fight between the nobles and us? Was the invitation you sent us no more than a trap to humiliate us?”

  “We offer you the opportunity to learn the art of magic. We still offer it. If two students challenge each other, it is their business,” the Water mage spoke coldly. “There will be no fighting during the lessons. And now, we shall go to the next place.”

  Brolok muttered quietly: “That’s a nice mess you’ve got us into. Challenging all the nobles while you still can’t ignite a branch. And I’m no big help either; they’re way ahead of me in their magical skills. I just hope they’ve enough respect for Tiriwi to leave us alone when she’s around.”

  The Earth Mages clapped their hands to get the students’ attention. “To feel the magic of Earth we need not go much further. Go and stand anywhere you please, and focus yourselves through your feet into the Earth. Embrace the strength of it. If you succeed with ease you may attempt to combine it with the sky’s energy, but be cautious.”

  Nill allowed his mind to wander around the group, wondering whether anyone would act before he could connect to the earth. He could feel the ancient power of the ground emanating through the surface that separated the sky from the earth. But he felt, as his human feet trod the ground, some of that power flowing into his own body. Since he had learned to free plants from earth he liked this particular element. His bare soles began to shudder and he felt a distinct rise in temperature. Earth! he thought, not Fire. He had never before experienced the slow, soothing strength of Earth this clearly. It entered his body through a point between his heels. Nill enjoyed the silence and the tremendous feeling of power. The Earth was finally giving him what he had wanted all along. The sticky air was forgotten, the pain in his head subsided, and he wasted no more thoughts on his classmates. Very slowly the ground’s surface began to dissolve as he became one with the Earth. For the shortest moment Nill was taken aback, as he had not intended this merger. He noticed that one of the other pupils seemed to be pulling the ground from under his feet. He sank into the earth slowly, but he did not bother to do anything about it. Quiet laughter informed him that his sinking had not gone unnoticed. Before long Nill was up to his thighs in the solid earth, his hands already touching it. He laid his palms flat on the surface, stopping his descent. The might of the earth was now coursing through his hands into his body. It was an ancient power Nill did not understand, but he trusted it nonetheless.

  “Say, boy, don’t you want to leave that hole?” a mocking voice asked.

  Nill shook his head, but to no avail. The Earth-master pulled him out of the ground. “There’s a thing I’ve never seen before,” he said. “A student with so little resistance that he immediately sinks into the earth. You’ll want to be careful with all Earthen magic.” The mage’s expression was quite severe.

  Nill nodded, but he had not felt any danger at any point. Had he wanted to, he could have stopped the process at his leisure. His merging could have gone on for hours.

  The mage made a quick gesture and the dirt dispersed from Nill’s body. He registered dimly that the mud he had carried here from the swamp was gone, too. “We Earth Mages love the power it has, but that doesn’t mean we roll in the muck,” the mage told him with a smile.

  A few of the students laughed. Tiriwi hissed to Brolok that this mage did not understand the Earth at all. “This one has no respect for his own element,” she whispered.

  “Back to the portal,” one of the mages called out.

  Prince Sergor-Don gave an excessively deep bow to Nill as he said: “Enjoy the fresh air out here… while you still can.”

  Nill understood. Prince Sergor-Don had taken up his challenge personally and was looking forward to a cat-and-mouse game with him. It suddenly dawned on him what a messy situation his pride had got him into and he began to worry about how to get out of it now.

  Chapter 5

  The Onyx began to crackle as the First Mage entered the room between the land and the sky, and it did not stop even when all the mages had taken their seat.

  “Have we learned anything new?” the Magon asked.

  Nobody felt they could answer his question appropriately. Keij-Joss, therefore, took it upon himself to speak. “Brolok is a half-arcanist and the Oa – well, she is an Oa. Nill, however, is mysterious. His teachers describe him as an arcanist with little ability, and that he tends to cause disruption everywhere. He is quite probably the worst student Ringwall has ever seen.”

>   “Smoke and mirrors,” Bar Helis interjected. Keij-Joss raised a hand for quiet.

  “He has no ability to recognize magical patterns, or to filter out the different magics from one. Gweddon, however, says that he feels the presence of the Nothing. This is remarkable, as even we, the archmages, feel its presence only by absence of all magic.”

  “Maybe, brothers, but not necessarily.” Nosterlohe reported Nill’s findings of magic where there was none, and even his description of the absence of Fire magic as some sort of cold magic, and ended his speech with the words: “His ability to feel the Nothing does not convince me. But what of Brother Mah Bu’s suggestion?”

  Queshalla answered. “I let him follow three students from the Waterways into a well. He lost them quickly and then got lost himself – predictable. I then commanded him to dissolve in the water.”

  “But he didn’t!” Mah Bu argued, gray shadows distorting the Onyx before him.

  “No, at first he did. Then he stopped following my orders and rose back to the surface. He found his way back with certainty. Tell me what this means.”

  “Do you expect me to say: An excellent job by a novice, or would you prefer if I asked you, dear sister, whether you have the power to tell a student what to do?”

  Several sparks flew across the Onyx and Queshalla glared at Ambrosimas.

  “The jeerer is a small, lively bird that lives in the bushes close to human settlements,” she retorted. “Quite dissimilar to yourself, Brother Ambrosimas, though I notice you attempt to appear like one over and over again. You, and all here present, know that not a single mage of Ringwall would have the smallest trouble letting someone like this boy disappear. But magic always shows when it is cast. Casting a spell under five teachers’ noses, one of them a grand mage, without their noticing? It’s unheard of. However, an unexpected turn has taken the problem out of our hands. The students will take care of it themselves, and the outcome is predictable.”

  “Adolescent squabbling was not what I had in mind when I suggested testing him.” Mah Bu’s voice cut through the room like a knife. “I will test him in a way that will show whether fate is on his side. If not, the Other World will be his new home and he’ll be a shadow amongst shadows.”

  The Onyx grew dark. Even the crackling stopped – as though the connection between the mages had been cut off. A fiery cloud of yellow flames startled them all as it leapt up at the Magon, bathing the entire Onyx in light.

  “I forbid it, Brother of the Spheres.” The Magon’s voice was quiet. “We have overlooked something.”

  The archmages froze in their seats. Never before had the Magon so decisively put down an Archmage. Before the individual members of the Circle lights flickered, elemental discharges shot out, sparks flew across the Onyx. Only the empty chair’s part of it was deadly calm. The first fire cloud was followed by a second, obliterating all that had formed in the meantime. Mah Bu’s silhouette had become more distinct. He sat bolt upright in his chair, here in this world with all his being.

  “We have overlooked something,” the Magon repeated. “Nill is a foundling. How could we have missed it? I want to know who his parents are. They must be arcanists themselves. Worse, they might be mages who have managed to keep their connection a secret. An illegitimate relationship between two sorcerers is also possible. He might be a child of the Band of the Lost. Black warlocks, Time-Riders, perhaps a shaman. The child may have been given some strength by a druid. The Lost do their work in the shadows, and we have had to tame them on more than one occasion, but controlling them is not easy. Where there is one child, there may be more. And Ringwall’s doors are not merely open for the young, but for everyone. Every person with a whit of magic in them may participate in the tournament on the battlefield for their right to live in Ringwall. Even druids, shaman and black warlocks. I have lifted the final protection, though. Whoever participates this time risks his life.”

  “We had an agreement!” Mah Bu roared in mind-speak, his words reverberating in the archmages’ skulls.

  Bar Helis leapt up and shouted: “The Magon has my full loyalty, but he cannot command the Circle on how—”

  The air above the Onyx exploded and the stone bent. Between Bar Helis’ teeth there was a grinding. He had opened his mouth to speak in the moment of the explosion. He coughed and spat blood, mucus and green sand. Mah Bu wiped a trickle of blood from his face where a small stone splinter had cut his skin. The others stared at Ambrosimas who was sitting in front of the spot where both halves of the stone slab were falling apart. But Ambrosimas barely registered this. His eyes were fixed in disbelief on the fragment of the Nothing, with its hazy edges, pale colors and translucent surface. With a final, quiet crack this part of the Onyx broke in two. Its contours became sharp and the stone solid. The magic of Nothing had left the room. One of the remaining halves turned black, the other took on the light gray of dawn.

  “If I didn’t know any better,” the Magon said, “I’d say the enemy of Ringwall was sitting at this table.”

  *

  Nill, Brolok and Tiriwi did not talk during their return to the Hermits’ Caves. Brolok was muttering and cursing under his breath, Nill was lost in thought at how he could escape the trap he himself had set. He had to admit that the very idea of Prince Sergor-Don made him feel uneasy. Tiriwi’s gaze was empty. There was no telling what was happening inside her head. As soon as they reached their quarters Brolok rushed to his cave and came back out with a newly forged fighting staff. “If you need me, I’ll be on the battlefield,” he announced. “What you did by the well was incredibly stupid. But anger is a warrior’s enemy; a clear mind is what I need now.” He shook his staff, which swung like a pipe. Tiriwi stared at the weapon, intrigued.

  Nill felt even more uncomfortable now, as Brolok, usually so calm, seemed a different person when agitated. Then he remembered how Brolok had put his arm around him and clearly shown the nobles that Nill was not alone. He tried to calm him. “You’re right, I was stupid. But I’ll not let those nobles make me their servant. It was only a matter of time before we’d have been fighting anyway. And it’s my business; you have no obligation to fight with me.”

  Brolok grabbed Nill’s shirt and twisted the cloth until Nill could barely breathe, but then relented.

  “It’s infuriating! I’d quite like to seize you by the throat and shake you like a dog, until the little sense you have is back on track.” He sighed. “Even a fool rarely spouts such nonsense. You can’t change the world alone! You’re either noble or a sok. Both have their rules, and those rules control their lives. And you just want to take all that and throw it away, and then you think it’s nobody’s business but yours?”

  “I don’t want to change the world.” Nill felt his temper rising. “I just want to live by my own rules. I don’t want to be a muckling or a noble.”

  “Tell us about these rules of yours then!” Brolok demanded aggressively, his fists on his hips.

  “I haven’t found them yet,” Nill admitted quietly. “All I know is that the existing rules can not be mine.”

  Brolok laughed bitterly. “Your own rules will gain you nothing but enemies. You already have more than you can count. If you want to live by your own rules, you need to make sure that the others know and respect them. And that’s where you stand alone against all of Pentamuria. And then you say you’ve no intent of changing the world.” Brolok looked up at the ceiling, as if awaiting assent from the gods.

  Nill bit his lower lip. “There must be a third way. Not everything needs to be either-or. Nature itself is more than just black and white. There’s day and night, but also dawn and dusk. There are dark days and light nights. There must be a third way, and I intend to find it.” Nill’s voice trailed off as he spoke, and the last words were directed more at himself than Brolok.

  “There is.” Tiriwi had so far listened, as she usually did. “The Oas and the druids are neither noble nor part of the common folk. The way of the Oas is barred for you, as you’re a
man. But the Oas may grant you refuge. The way of the druids is a possibility, though you can only be a true druid by birth, not by choice. Then there are the shaman. They aren’t noble and they’re called mucklings, but they are left in peace and sometimes the nobles need their aid. They live alone and spend most of their lives in the Other World. I don’t know how you could live like that, but there is a third way.”

  That was an extraordinarily long speech, coming from Tiriwi. The two boys were quite surprised. Nill had noticed with some embarrassment that Tiriwi had called him a man, not a boy.

  “Time will tell,” he said after a long silence. “Either I’ll look for, and find, this third way, or it’ll come to me. Then I need only walk it. There is no hurry. But in order to find the third way I need to know the first two. The mucklings’ way I already know. The nobles’… I’ll find right here.”

  But as confident as he sounded, Nill was still uncertain in his heart. He knew all too well that he was not one of the strongest here in Ringwall, and that meant caution. All the same, he gave Brolok and Tiriwi a smile and left for the kitchens, taking care not to meet anyone along the way.

  He chose a wide hallway along the outer wall, the same one the mucklings took to bring stores to the kitchens. He sidled into the pushing crowd and seemed almost like one of them in his stained brown garb. The mucklings took little notice of him, if indeed at all; if so, they showed no signs of recognition.

  “Hal,” Nill said quietly as he entered the preparation room. “Do you need some help with the vegetables?” A young woman glanced up at him. “Shh, it’s better if you don’t talk. Then you can’t say anything wrong.”

  Nill took a large bundle of grenkleek and submerged it into a water barrel. As he shook it in the water a brown cloud of dirt came free from the plants and settled at the bottom of the barrel.