Nature Mage

by Duncan Pile

  “Sorry, Gaspi,” Voltan said. “I thought the shield could take it. That’s my fault.”

  Gaspi felt slightly disturbed by the cracking sound, which, like the detonating sound, seemed to resonate from inside him as much as from outside. He felt a bit shaken, and as he took his seat he could tell the rest of his classmates felt the same. On the other hand, he’d broken a force shield with what was only a small portion of his power, and the whole class had seen it. Voltan ended the lesson after that, and as the pupils filed out Gaspi could hear the muted buzzing of excited conversation that would inevitably be about what he’d just done. Following them out with Emmy and Lydia, he couldn’t help thinking that, in the long run, it wasn’t a bad thing.

  Gaspi’s impressive display against the force shield was the final nail in the coffin of the class’s taunting that Gaspi was just a hedge wizard. That had died down after he’d called down the windstorm on Everand in martial magic, and tailed off even more now that Gaspi was performing strongly in almost every class. The result of breaking the force shield was the class’s final acceptance that Gaspi was what he claimed to be - a Nature Mage. Even Everand seemed to have backed down. He was grudging about it, and maintained a rude attitude towards Gaspi, but he no longer taunted him publicly.

  The change in attitude towards him made Gaspi’s life a bit easier, and he found himself increasingly excited by the exploration of magic. An idea he’d had after Taurnil fought in the tournament motivated him to work particularly hard at enchantment. He’d read about magical weapons in one of the historical texts set by Voltan, and hadn’t been able to shake the idea since. If he could enchant a stone or a piece of chalk, why not a weapon? He stayed behind to speak to Professor Worrick about it one day after class.

  “Yes, Gaspi, how can I help you?” the professor asked. Professor Worrick had been impressed by Gaspi’s increasing skill as an enchanter, and had been particularly pleased the previous week when Gaspi had enchanted his robes to be impervious to getting wet, and somehow managed to add an enchantment that made them warmer or cooler to the wearer, depending on the temperature of the room. He hadn’t yet worked out how Gaspi had done it, as the clothes didn’t change thickness or weave, but somehow warmed or cooled the wearer without changing state. Gaspi didn’t really know how he’d done it either, and couldn’t seem to repeat the trick once he knew how difficult it was. This didn’t frustrate Professor Worrick, who loved a good conundrum, and whose passion for magic was as much academic as practical.

  “What magical marvel have you unearthed today, young Mage?” he asked amiably. Gaspi liked Professor Worrick. He was straightforward and honest, and always enthusiastic about his pupils’ achievements, even down to the most mundane of spells. Gaspi also liked his curious mind, which reminded him very much of Hephistole; although where the Chancellor had a kind of fierce, burning energy, Professor Worrick’s curiosity expressed itself as a constant sense of quiet delight and surprise.

  Gaspi went straight to the point. “I was hoping, sir, that you could teach me to enchant weapons.”

  “Weapons, eh?” Professor Worrick reflected. “There’s no reason why not, Gaspi, but can I ask why?” The professor sounded curious, rather than concerned.

  “It’s for my friend, Taurnil,” Gaspi answered. “He’s a city guard, and I thought it would make a great gift for his Nameday.”

  “No doubt it would,” Professor Worrick answered thoughtfully. “Did you know that Hephistole has some magically enhanced weapons in his study? They‘re artefacts from another age, powerfully made.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Gaspi answered, excited now. “Well - I want to make another one.”

  “I admire your determination, Gaspi,” Professor Worrick said. “It’s not an easy thing to do, however. The reason we only have a few is because of the difficulty involved in the enchantment. There are no rules stopping you doing it, but just remember that the kind of enchantments you’re likely to put on them would be exhausting. A normal magician would be unable to do much spell work for several days afterwards, and there‘s no guarantee the weapons would pick up anything of power.” He peered at Gaspi with a sparkle of interest. “But you’re hardly a normal magician, now, are you Gaspi?”

  “I guess not, sir,” Gaspi answered, pleased by the recognition. “Even if it was exhausting I’d like to give it a try - maybe at the end of the week, when there are no classes for a couple of days.”

  “Good idea,” Professor Worrick answered. “So - what do you know of enchantment that will help you turn a normal weapon into a magical one?”

  Gaspi thought for a second. “Well, you always say that different materials take different types of enchantments, and that some materials are better than others full stop - like the stone used to make the wall.”

  “Yes, so that means you’ll have to choose your materials well,” Professor Worrick responded. “The problem you have is that if you want a truly powerful weapon you’ll first of all have to have it made of the right materials, which means you’ll have to pay for both the materials and for a weaponsmith’s services. I don’t know how your resources are, Gaspi, but I’d guess that they won’t stretch that far.”

  “No, they won’t,” Gaspi answered, furrowing his brow in thought. “What if I just enchanted a normal weapon?” Gaspi asked. “How powerful might it be?”

  “Well, almost anything will take a degree of enchantment,” Professor Worrick answered. “The general rule is that the purer the substance, the stronger the enchantment, but this doesn’t always hold true. Also, metals tend to hold an enchantment better than wood.”

  “Taurnil fights with a staff!” Gaspi said, frustrated..

  “Well, you can only try your best, Gaspi, and see what happens,” Professor Worrick said. “For now, that may be all you can do. What enchantment do you think will effectively enchant a staff?”

  “Staffs break a lot, so maybe I should make it stronger, less breakable, or make it hit harder?” Gaspi said.

  “Interesting,” Professor Worrick said. “Remember that energy cannot be created. It all comes from somewhere,, and goes somewhere. I know Voltan has been teaching you how to use an air strike. When you summon an air strike, you still have to use raw magical force to trap the air into a narrow space and then to push that out, but you use a lot less raw energy than when performing a spell that is entirely crafted by magic such as a force strike. The air strike uses the energy captured in the air to create the substance of the attack. The magical element is just in the shaping and moving of that energy - energy you did not have to create. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Gaspi said. “Is that why Emmy always feels more tired using a force strike than almost anything else?”

  Professor Worrick started to speak, and then stopped himself. He looked at Gaspi intently for a minute, and then seemed to make a decision.

  “I’m going to tell you something that you are not to share with your fellow students, except when you are in great need, Gaspi. That’s my condition for answering your question.” He peered at Gaspi, waiting for an answer.

  “Okay, sir,” Gaspi answered, unhappy with being asked to keep anything from Emmy; but he supposed that if something happened where she really needed to know, then he could tell her.

  “We don’t tell this to students in their first year, Gaspi, in case the knowledge is abused. But seeing as you are particularly gifted, you may actually need to know this before we’d normally expect.” Professor Worrick paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “You’re right that the reason a force strike tires you is because you are drawing your energy from yourself. This can be very dangerous, and if the magician draws too much they can either burn themselves out for good, and never be able to use magic again, or they could even die, which might be better!” Gaspi swallowed anxiously, remembering how close he had come to this on two separate occasions.

  “There are some spells where the energy is drawn from the environment, but others - like most blocks, or othe
r types of strikes - draw energy from the caster. What you are not aware of yet is that you can chose to draw energy from any other source. For instance, you could focus your spell to take the energy for your strike from the person you are attacking.” Professor Worrick paused, letting Gaspi absorb this. “Can you see why this is so open to abuse?”

  “Yes, sir,” Gaspi said. It wasn’t hard to imagine what someone like Ferast might do with this knowledge.

  “It’s not easy, but once you get the hang of it you can direct a spell, or even an enchantment, to draw from any source of power. So let’s say you wanted your friend’s staff to hit with a force that doubles the force of the actual swing of the weapon. If you simply enchant the staff to do this, the enchantment will draw the energy from the obvious source - the fighter. Your enchantment would drain your friend with every swing, which would defeat the purpose of the enchantment, and maybe place your friend in danger. See?”

  Gaspi nodded impatiently. Sometimes he wished teachers would just tell him the answers without all the rambling. “So, where can the energy come from?”

  “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Professor Worrick said, scratching his head. “The good thing about enchantments is that they can be as sophisticated as you like, as long as you have the deftness of touch required for the spell. You could enchant the staff to draw energy from everything except the bearer, but that would indiscriminately take energy from friend and foe. That wouldn’t be a good thing if your friend was fighting alongside others on the same side.” Gaspi nodded, waiting for information he could use.

  “I think the best place to draw the energy from is the ground,” the professor continued. “It means that if your friend is fighting on soil, he will be taking energy that is normally used by plants and growing things, or if he was fighting on rock, he’d be weakening the structural integrity of the rock. But there’s so much energy stored in the ground that, if the draw was spread nice and wide, he shouldn’t do any real damage; unless he was fighting on one spot for a long time. I think that’s probably the best solution, don’t you?”

  Gaspi didn’t like the idea of draining the ground of life, but if Professor Worrick said it wouldn’t have any real effect, then that would have to be good enough for him. “That works for me, sir,” Gaspi responded. “But how do I make sure the enchantment draws from the ground? Is there some kind of special spell?” he asked.

  “No - it doesn’t work like that,” the professor answered. “Just make sure that when you’re casting your enchantment that you are imagining the draw, and the enchantment will follow your leading.”

  Professor Worrick must have spotted Gaspi’s uncertainty. “You’ll be fine, Gaspi,” he said with confidence. “Some of your recent spell work has been as sophisticated as it is powerful, and adding a draw is well within your abilities.”

  “Thanks sir!” Gaspi said, sure now that he knew what he needed to do a good job of it.

  “You’re welcome,” the professor answered. “Just promise me you’ll show me the staff once you’re done.”

  “I promise,” Gaspi said cheerfully, and with that he took his leave.

  Gaspi met with Jonn that night at the barracks to tell him about his plan for Taurnil’s Nameday. Jonn wasn’t on duty, so they went to a café near the city gate, and sat in the warm spring sunshine. Winter had been well and truly pushed out the back door now, and they were able to sit outside on the street and watch the passers by. Over a cup of bitter coffee, Gaspi explained what he had in mind for Taurnil’s present.

  “That’s a great idea Gasp,” Jonn said, clearly approving. “I’ve never seen anyone work so hard in training, and Taurn still prefers the staff over other weapons.” Jonn scratched his chin. “In fact, that helps me with my own present.”

  “Really?” Gaspi asked.

  “Well, you won’t be able to use his weapons as they are city property, and you definitely can’t afford a new one. If I buy him a decent staff from a weaponsmith you can do…whatever you do to it, and we’ll give it to him together. What do you think?”

  Gaspi grinned. “Sounds good,” he said.

  “So, if you magic up this staff,” Jonn asked, “will it really hit more forcefully than a normal weapon?” Jonn seemed intrigued by the possibility.

  “It’s called ‘enchanting’. And yeah, that’s the idea,” Gaspi said. “I don’t know how well it will work out, though. It could go horribly wrong, and Professor Worrick says I will be exhausted for days afterwards.”

  “Is that dangerous?” Jonn asked quickly.

  Gaspi knew what he was thinking. It wasn’t that long ago when casting a spell had drained Gaspi so badly he’d nearly died in Jonn‘s arms. “Professor Worrick would have said if there was any danger. But I’ll check, if you like?”

  “Please do, Gaspi,” Jonn said, then sat back again, allowing himself to relax. He took a deep breath, and let it out in a contented sigh.

  “You seem happy, Jonn,” Gaspi said. In all the time he’d known Jonn, his guardian had been a bit of a loner. Oh he cared about Gaspi, for sure, but Jonn kept a lot of private pain to himself, and preferred to be alone most of the time. Gaspi knew it was to do with the loss of his wife and Gaspi’s parents, both killed in the same tragic attack by thieves in the forest, and had often thought that maybe Jonn blamed himself for not being able to protect them. But since coming to Helioport, Jonn seemed like a different man.

  Gaspi saw him a couple of times a week, usually with Emmy and their friends, but occasionally they caught up like this – just the two of them – and Gaspi loved those times especially.

  “Happy?” Jonn mused. “Yes, I suppose you can say that I am.” Gaspi sat attentively, hoping Jonn might say more.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Jonn continued after a minute’s pause, “that living in the village wasn’t doing me any good. Too many memories,” he said quietly, falling back into his old brooding manner. He caught himself and snapped his attention back to Gaspi. “I’ll never forget your Da, nor your Ma. And most of all I’ll never forget Rhetta,” he added emphatically. “But being here has shown me that I still have a life to live. Being a guard is a good thing for me, Gasp. I’m part of something, doing something really useful. And besides, I need to be here for you lot.”

  It was unlike Jonn to reveal so much of himself, and Gaspi could tell the revelation was at an end. Jonn took a sip of his drink, and resettled himself in his seat. “Now about that staff…”

  Chapter 29

  Gaspi opened his eyes, focussed and restful after a particularly deep meditation. He sat alone in Voltan’s office, which his mentor had loaned to him for the afternoon, and the object of his attention lay on the desk before him. It was a sturdy length of polished ash wood, its naturally light shade deepened by layer upon layer of resin, rubbed into the wood to treat it and make it both stronger and more flexible. Its golden colour was made even more attractive by the appealing grain of the wood; sinuous lines of deeper colouration snaking along the length of the staff. It was thick enough to be sturdy and slender enough to be light, and each end was capped by finely wrought metal fastenings. Jonn had explained that ash was a hardwood, providing natural force, but was more supple than oak, and would not break easily. Gaspi thought it was perfect.

  Before attempting the enchantment, Gaspi spent a few minutes in a restful state, and, coming out of his meditation, he felt ready to give it a try. Magic was gently flowing through his body, tingling at the fingertips he reached out to take hold of the staff. He placed it on his lap, curling his hands round the smooth wood, and let himself imagine. He imagined it striking an enemy, drawing power from the very earth beneath the wielder, from soil and stone, enhancing its force and impact and making it hard to break. He released magic into both his fantasy and into the staff, tying the two together and forging the ordinary wood into something else altogether, infusing it with the mandate of his vision. Gaspi spoke to the staff to trigger the release of magic – “Be strong!”

&n
bsp; Gaspi knew he was in some way successful as he felt power pour from him into the staff, leaving him weakened, but nowhere near incapacitated. Gaspi thrilled in the moment, letting the magic continue to fill him as he imagined Taurnil using the now enchanted staff against an enemy. Without consciously doing so he called to mind the demon that had attacked him on the journey to Helioport, his imagination placing Taurnil in combat with such a creature, defeating it with raw power.

  Suddenly, Gaspi was channelling a riotous flood of energy, coursing violently through his fingers into the wood. The staff flared with a bright, almost blinding, blue light, as Gaspi felt his strength drain to dangerously low levels. He tried to let go but the spell had him in its grasp, taking his energy with it. Just as spots began to dance in front of his eyes, the light emanating from the staff flared even more brightly for a final moment, then winked out as if it had never been, leaving Gaspi holding an ordinary-looking piece of wood. His breathing was ragged, his heart labouring in his chest for a moment, before stuttering and resuming a normal rhythm.

  The door burst open, and Voltan ran into the room. He looked round hurriedly and, seeing Gaspi, strode over to him and picked up the staff. “What on earth did you do?” he asked. Gaspi shrugged weakly. Voltan looked at him anxiously. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I felt a deep surge of power.”