Endrance sputtered as he looked incredulously at his mentor. “B-b-barbarians?” he stuttered, “You want me to work for barbarians?”
Kaelob seemed confused. “Well, that’s the job I handed you, isn’t it?”
“I thought you said that barbarians hate magic.” Endrance said flatly. He wasn’t sure if his old mentor was being genuinely serious or was trying to pull a prank on him again. He was certain that eccentricity came with the man’s age, but hoped it wasn’t getting worse.
Kaelob snapped the fingers of one hand, his face lightening. “Incorrect, the barbarians of Balator fear magic. Their superstitions and paranoia lead them to shun the use of magic.”
Endrance shrugged. “Then why would they want to hire me?” he asked.
Kaelob grinned. “Because they fear magic, they need someone who can deal with magic. Somebody who is skilled in magical arts and can put their fears to rest when something unexplained happens. It’s kind of a self propagating position, needing someone with magic so they can avoid it.
“I have done this exact same task when I was younger, and I’ll tell you that it is indeed rewarding but also demanding. You would be taking a long term position in Balator, their capital. There you would spend most of your time clearing up the barbarian’s superstitious beliefs. The rest would be advising the king and his generals in other matters.”
“Wait,” Endrance looked up from the book as something Kaelob said caught his attention. “You did this job before?”
“Yep!” the elder man agreed, leaning back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face. “I sure did. Was a long, long, long time ago and all I can tell you, is that it’s an experience that can be frustrating at times, but also be incredibly…” His eyes seemed to be focused on earlier times. “Satisfying.”
Endrance paged through the book and almost dropped it when he saw a sketch of the kingdom capitol. It was a series of bowls carved out of the side of a huge mountain. Each bowl was above the other and stepping up the side of the mountain like stairs. Just like in his dream.
Endrance looked up at Kaelob, and did not know if he should discuss his dream with him. The man obviously knew more about this place than he was letting on, but what if he was also unable to tell him anything? Would he, even if he could?
The young man shook his head, and closed the book. “May I keep the notes?” he asked.
Kaelob blinked as he came out of his memories, “Sure, sure.” He said, waving a hand dismissively. “I can always pen another if I wanted to.”
“The barbarians will be impressed and frightened by your littlest tricks, so don’t worry about needing a great many of the more powerful ones.” Kaelob explained. “There is also a large collection of old spellbooks at the place where you will be staying, so you can study quite a few more spells while you are there.” He chuckled. “Consider it a perk of the job that they’re free to study. Most anywhere in the world would charge an arm and a leg for you to even learn a minor spell.” He chuckled. “Sometimes their superstitions can work for you, you know.”
“If any women in white dresses try to give you a ring,” he stated, his expression serious, “By the gods, take it. They will be your guardians and assistants during your task.”
“These people have had for every generation someone they call a Spengur. The Spengur is their wise man who is skilled in magical arts. The Spengur is almost always an outsider and serves the people until a new Spengur is chosen. They apply their magical knowledge to answer the people’s concerns and solve problems that would ordinarily be too costly for them to solve in a physical manner.
“You also will be needed to deal with the people’s customs and superstitions and supervising special events that deal with them. It’s a position where you will have to live in their kingdom among their people, and you will have to learn their ways and mannerisms.
“As the Spengur, your living costs will be taken care of, and you will be paid a small amount monthly as well. As an added benefit, you will also have most of the things required for you to do your job provided for you. If there are any extraordinarily expensive costs needed for a job related action, you will be assisted in raising the money to do so, but in that regard you may be on your own.”
“Anything else I should know about?” the young mage asked.
“The place is going to be very cold during most of the year except for the few months of summer. I suggest you pack cold weather clothing,” Kaelob finished, separating his hands and leaning back in his chair.
Endrance blinked a few times, thinking this task over. He knew it would be a tremendous change in his life, especially since he would be away from home for many years. He would have to travel a great distance to even get there, and he had hardly been to the neighboring villages. He had however an extensive education of other cities, and he was certain that he would be able to identify them if he had to.
He had some questions for his old master. Putting the book next to his spellbook, he thought to ask a different question. “What about spells? Are there any particular ones that will help me in this task?”
Kaelob replied, “You will have access to the spellbooks and journals of every Spengur that has passed before you, even mine. There are books dating back two thousand years that were so fragile I was afraid to open them lest they render to dust.”
“And I will be paid as well as have all my needs taken care of?”
Kaelob smiled. “Yes. You will have every need taken care of,” he responded, “…Every need.”
Endrance was already thinking of his next question and missed Kaelob’s muted chuckle. “What about my station in their people? You said they’re a very superstitious lot; how will they treat me in their community?”
“The Spengur is a very well respected and feared position in their community. The Spengur is considered a separate entity from Balator, and he does not ultimately answer to anyone but the king and his royal family. The Spengur also has two groups which traditionally assist him in everything that he needs. The first is a family of personal bodyguards to the Spengur whose sole task is to ensure the Spengur’s well being and safety. The second group is a group of the kingdom’s historians who are called the Ergkinoa. They are all women born of a particular totem that are raised from birth to be ‘sacrificed’ to the Spengur. They will be the ones who educate you in the ways of the barbarian people, and they will be caretakers of a sort.”
Kaelob waved his hand dismissively. “It’s all much easier to comprehend when you are actually there, and it’s happening around you. Don’t worry, it’s a good thing. You can also read more about them in the notes I prepared for you.” he finished.
“When shall I start?” Endrance requested. “How would I get there? I’ve only been to the nearby villages and those are still within the Satrapy of Veridian, and your lessons didn’t include more than cursory geography.”
Kaelob shrugged. “Your education in that subject only really requires you to have a grasp of geomantically important locales. It’s not like you’re training to be a wood guide or something.”
Endrance fixed Kaelob with a sarcastic look. “Maybe I was trying to get back to the same spot that time.”
“With all seven attempts? That week?” Kaelob returned with a smirk on his face. “I’m sure you are quite adept at getting nowhere in the wilds; in fact, I think you’d graduate that class after the first day, should they have offered it.”
Endrance shrugged. “I like roads.” He muttered. “And cities. Roads and streets are so much easier to find your way in.”
Kaelob sighed, rubbing his forehead with the fingers of one hand. “Anyways, if you accept this task, then I will send a message ahead to my friend in Balator, and one of the Spengur’s bodyguards will meet you at the capitol city of Ironsoul. There he will guide you the rest of the way back to Balator.”
“I see.” Endrance said, scratching at his chin as he absorbed the information. He knew the route to Ironsoul proper, and could travel with one of the trade cara
vans there for safety. Having a guide for the rest of the way would be most helpful, and ensure he would get there in a reasonable amount of time. Reasonable meaning at all, whereas he was sure he’d never arrive if he left by himself. He was just no good when it came to traveling through forests or mountains.
Endrance nodded, his primary concerns answered, “Well then, I accept this task set before me. I can see that even if it is the only task I was to take on, it would still be respectable and could be a career.”
“Yes,” Kaelob nodded “Think of it as a career. Although with your talent at magic, you could have many full careers over the course of your lifetime.” He gave a half shrug as he held up his pinky, ring, and middle finger of his right hand. “I suspect about three decades. They tend to develop some paranoia when their Spengur doesn’t seem to age after forty years or so. By then I’m sure someone would have given you a much more appealing job offer.”
With that they stood again. They clasped hands, and after a pause they embraced.
“I know you will do right by me Endrance,” Kaelob said, releasing him. “You learned everything very fast and have proven to be quite clever with word and spell. I know you will not bring shame to my name.” He quirked an eyebrow and stared at him fiercely. “Or you may find yourself at the wrong end of one of my Substituo spells.”
The young man blanched. “But you said you hadn’t finished figuring that spell out yet…” he said incredulously.
Kaelob frowned. “I know.” He responded, a glimmer of madness in his eye. “I still haven’t found that cat from my last test.”
“Blech.” Endrance responded. “I still have nightmares about that...”
“Yes, yes. Well, a good motivator for you then, I suppose.” Kaelob responded. He waved a hand at the door. “Go on, get going m’boy. Now that I’ve trained you, I don’t have to have you cluttering up my study anymore. The next time you come here, you are merely a guest.”
Endrance smiled and began to walk to the exit. “Thank you Master Kaelob. I will check in with you periodically as events play out in this new life for me.”
He waved as Endrance disappeared through the doorway. “Farewell! Don’t forget to write!” he shouted just before Endrance turned out of view.
Kaelob sighed as he leaned his head against the back of his chair, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. “Poor boy,” he said to himself. “No idea what he’s getting into. No idea at all.” He chuckled. “I just hope the Ergkinoa don’t kill him.”
Chapter 04
Upon returning home and consulting with his father, Endrance found that the next caravan heading up to Ironsoul wasn’t due for a month. This gave him plenty of time to plan for his journey and pack some essentials in advance. It was for the best, as he quickly realized how poorly prepared he was for long journeys.
While he had been intending on taking at least one week off to relax and put some serious time into painting, he found he had to instead work twice as hard to procure the supplies he would need to take on the journey. First he had to acquire worthwhile travelling clothes. He also had to trade for a travelling pack so he could carry all the necessities. Joseph procured a hardened leather scroll case into which Endrance carefully placed several of his best paintings into. He opted to leave his paints here since he was certain he could get real quality paints once he made it to Balator, not to mention it was a few pounds less materials for him to carry on the trip. The paintings he hoped to sell while in Balator so he could afford to buy winter clothes. The traders who came through Wayrest had little in the area of cold weather gear.
By the time he had gathered everything he thought he would need, he found a few more things that were necessary for the journey. Bedroll, blanket, lantern, and other similar things he spent much of his day going about the town searching and trading for. He tried to find a small enough tent to take with him, but could not find one. It was just as well; Tents were heavy and he was unsure he could set one up correctly.
He ended up only having a scant four days to relax. Those four days he was up at suns-rise, and went to bed well after the suns set, save for the last day. He was not frustrated that he was only able to finish one painting in that time; in fact he was glad of it. He had been so used to working on a large painting in pieces as his daily duties as an apprentice would allow, that he found he could only sit before an easel for about an hour before his mind started to wander on to other pursuits.
He ended up taking breaks over the course of a day, working on other tasks and painting when inspiration struck him. The rest of the time he spent transcribing the most important of his spells into his new spell book. His name was inlayed into the spine, so that he could easily identify it should it be on a shelf somewhere. The silver runes on each page gleamed in the candlelight as he transcribed his spells, and every time he noticed them he couldn’t help but grin wildly in excitement.
Each page he carefully inked the inscriptions, diagrams, and formula for each of the pertinent spells he had learned and developed on his own over the near decade of apprenticeship. Spell-slinging, a term some of the apprentices used in their own social circles seemed incredibly easy to an observer. The wizard could just flick his wrist, say an obscure word, and set a dozen men aflame from a safe distance.
In truth, that seeming simplicity was the fruit of countless hours of distilled effort learning every single possible connotation of a single work of magic. It went beyond the basic understanding of a spell; an apprentice with a newly taught spell could chant the correct words, form the images needed in their mind, and empower the symbols they formed with their bodies and hands with their will and energy. The time this would take to even release a working spell took at minimum several seconds, and could extend into minutes for the very complex magic.
A spell that was studied and extensively practiced could reduce that down to a few seconds. Only when a wizard had truly absorbed everything there is to know about a particular working of magic could they abbreviate the spell casting process so. To them, it was just as simple as an experienced juggler keeping seven balls in the air. It would seem impossible to the untrained, but eventually they don’t even think about it. They just do. Excepting that a wizard had to do that same process with every spell he hoped to be able to sling out, and each one was different.
A tedious process to be sure, but in light of his last battle with his master, Endrance felt better that he had burned through so many candles studying up late at night. He meticulously kept his handwriting steady as he transcribed; for the slightest waver could cause a symbol to misrepresent something, or cause him to misinterpret a word later on, to disastrous results.
The spells he transcribed were ones he was not absolutely certain he memorized. A few of them he could probably cast without aid from the book, though he would be loathe trying if he had the book at hand. He would take the book with him so that he could practice and study with them enough to master them as well.
The caravan arrived, and Endrance knew that it was his last day in Wayrest. Though trade was brief, the caravan master wanted to rest their horses and drivers for a fresh start the next day. Its usual route passed out of Ironsoul, through three of the Satrapies until it came to the sunsken Tower, and then looped back to the capitol, an established trade route taking a season to complete. Though he had more than enough escorts for the route, he was delighted to meet with the young man.
A grizzled older man with far too many scars across his knuckles than the young mage would think was possible ran the caravan. Endrance had found him giving orders to a couple of the escort guard as he approached late in the afternoon. The setting suns glanced over the rooftop and cast an orange and reddish gleam to the top of the man’s bald pate as he turned to acknowledge the young man’s presence, occasionally scratching at his gut which stretched the cloth of his shirt over the buckle of his belt. The young wizard held up his hand in greeting, and stopped a few feet away as the caravan master finished instructing his people.
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“Ah yes.” The man stated in a gruff but friendly manner. “How can I help ye, miss?” he smiled at him as he waved his hand over to the large wagons half encircling the village square. “The other men here may have some fine cloths you would find appealing.”
Endrance fought to keep his face from heating up. He cleared his throat and responded, deepening his voice as much as possible. “I am no lady, kind sir.”
The caravan master blinked and looked him over again, noting that he wore men’s clothes, albeit fairly small sized clothes. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “I do apologize, sir!” he exclaimed, wringing his hands as he bowed his head to the young mage slightly. “I am terribly sorry; it must be the long journey and the setting suns.” He explained.
Endrance shrugged, letting out a held breath. “It’s alright, happens to me more often than I’d like to admit.”
The older man laughed. “Looks like you got a bit of the elf in you don’t you?” he asked.
Endrance grinned and scratched at a faintly pointed ear tip. “Somewhere along the line, I think. Probably a great grandfather I suppose.”
The caravan master shrugged. “Well, don’t you be worrying about us discriminating on you jus’ cause of something your grandpappy did.” He winked. “Your coin’s just about as good as anyone else here, barring the exchange rate, of course.”
Endrance laughed with the man this time. The caravan master wiped at an eye and looked at the young man sternly. “My name’s Ked. So what kind of goods are you interested in?” he asked. “I can tell you not only which of my merchants have the best, but who’s got the best deals as of late.”
The young wizard smiled, pointing at Ked. “Actually, I have a deal for you.” He began. “I would like to come along with your caravan to Ironsoul.”
“Oh?” the caravan master replied, raising an eyebrow. “And forgive me for asking, but why would you think there is room for us to, ahem, cart you along? You have no wares to sell, no profits to share.” He made a show of looking him up and down. “And you certainly don’t have the physique to march escort.”
Spellscribed: Provenance Page 4