Spellscribed: Provenance

by Kristopher Cruz

  Endrance dropped to his knees near the corpse and vomited up the simple meal he had consumed that morning. With the expulsion of his stomach contents there followed a wave of guilt that threatened to completely incapacitate him. This was a horrible thing he had done, and it was something done without a moment’s reservation. He had snuffed out a living, breathing thing that could talk and might even have been able to reason with him, if he had just given him a chance.

  The spell wasn’t even the worst of what he could do. His master had taught him all manner of theoretical ways of using even simple magics to great effect. He realized just how easy it would be to kill someone. Even simpler for him, as all he needed to do was point and strike things down from afar with his scribed lightning spell. What if he stopped caring about things like right and wrong? What if he lost control?

  He wouldn’t. Endrance shook his head, wiping at his face with a handful of fresh snow. The cold felt good on the still tingling fingers of his hand, and he pulled himself back to his feet.

  He could become a monster, a horrible magic using killing machine, but he chose not to be. He decided that this power he had been born with and trained to use properly was for him to use as he saw fit, and he saw fit to do good things with it. He could do great things with it. He would not let himself stoop to becoming cold hearted or abusing his power because he would be letting down all that he had the potential to be.

  He didn’t believe that he was meant to do wrong things. He couldn’t conceive of it, but the ease in which he had utterly destroyed the lives of the enemies who had attacked him was a grim reminder that he could annihilate the innocent just as easily. He took a shuddering breath in the cold, but he could not look away from the reality of what he had done. He wouldn’t be able to rationalize the power he had anymore; it was something he was going to have to come to live with, and overcome.

  He turned to the body of the dead wolfman, and bowed his head towards the corpse.

  “Thank you,” Endrance said aloud. “You fought with your heart and I regret that we had to meet like we did. I learned something very important today because of you, but I would rather we both lived. I can never repay you for opening my eyes.” He touched the two fingers of his right hand to his forehead, the same way that he had seen Joven do with his weapon any time he killed something that he hunted. The barbarian explained that it was a gesture of thanks, both to the weapon that it was true, and to that which had been slain by it. A faint smudge of ash remained on his forehead when he lowered his hand.

  The wizard scanned the forest around, searching the snow for the trail of tracks to lead him to his horse. It was then when out of the swirling snow and weak winds that the third wolfman’s form became evident to him. The beast man had been standing still as a statue in the snow, watching him for an unknown length of time.

  The wolfman was larger than the last and had armor that was of cleaner, better quality craftsmanship. His body was as muscular as the other had only appeared, seeming much better fed and more experienced than the one who laid dead nearby. It had a straight sword made for chopping with a square edge, but it was still strapped across his back. The reigns to Endrance’s horse was in one hand, and behind the wolfman was the shadow of the paint horse, standing skittishly but without panic.

  The wolfman remained in his spot, but tilted his head as he considered the wizard before him. The wolf’s eyes were surprisingly human and crisp blue like the sky on a bright spring day, and he regarded Endrance before him with an expression that was either curiosity or mild surprise. His ears were tilted in different directions, away from the general direction of the blowing snow, but there was no doubt he could hear the wizard speak from where he stood.

  “You.” The wolfman stated, his voice nothing like the one Endrance had fought before. It was smooth, rich, and utterly indistinguishable from a human’s. “You thank your enemy for teaching you, even when he refused you peace? You feel guilt, even though he attempted your life? You would cry over the bodies of your enemies?”

  Endrance watched the wolfman warily, but nodded. “He taught me a very important lesson about the power over another’s life, and how it isn’t something to be abused. I could have ended up seeking only to cause destruction like the kind he had sought for me, but I choose to be better than the worst I could possibly be.”

  The wolfman tilted his head further, but his attention was focused on his dead comrade, not the young wizard before him. “Yra’ag.” The wolfman said aloud after a moment.

  “Yra’ag?” Endrance asked.

  “That was his face-name. Never forget the one who taught you what it was like to kill.” The wolfman lifted his right hand for the mage to see. A claw mark like scar made a geometric pattern in the fur of his hand, indistinct in the snow but still enough to be obvious. “Those who have learned the lesson in our pack carve the name in our hand, so that we may never forget.”

  The wolfman hooked the reigns onto a branch nearby him. “Our pack was not meant to fight with your kind. You came within a few strides of our Bastraum-our home, as your language says. Our youth were too… Ga’th. Too hot headed. Those who have not given their lives to your warrior will be punished, and we will continue on our way.”

  The wolfman turned from him, walking quite humanly away. Right at the edge of sight he turned his head to take Endrance in with one eye. “I wonder if our pack and yours can really have this ‘peace’ you have asked for.” And in an instant he was gone, a swirl of snow in the dim forest light.

  Endrance shivered, approaching his horse. The horse seemed grateful for his company, and a quick inspection revealed no damage had been done. He mounted again quickly, and as he lifted the reigns his right hand twinged again painfully. He held his hand out before him, and inspected the injury to his fingers. The lines of his meridians were a reddish color. It looked as if it would be a while before they darkened back to the black lines that indicated the energy was fully dissipated.

  He sighed and dug his glove from his pocket, putting it back on his hand before turning his horse back to look for Joven. It wouldn’t be too hard, after the wolfmen called off their attack, the only things in the forest would be him and his bodyguard. Though the encounter with the wolfmen was unusual to say the least, they were still within the territory of the Ivory Satrap. They should be safe for a ways longer.

  . . .

  The Sha’hdi hated this area. So much snow and so much white meant she had to don white leathers, something that was not usually tailored in Salthimere due to their more tropical climate. Even in the temperate zones an assassin could wear black on any given day and expect to not stand out like spilled ink on linen.

  Even so, she was finding chances to interfere with the young man more and more difficult. Not only was he getting better at defending himself and keeping himself out of trouble, the bodyguard had been getting more alert as time passed. Already she suspected that the barbarian had caught on to fact that she had been following them. Even though her talents and skills were far greater than any human could hope to achieve, she was not without hunger, or need for warmth.

  She would have moved against the young man directly, but that was not what was needed yet. She would be free to directly assail him if… once he made it to Balator. She hadn’t even needed to do more than kill off a few enemies that might have gotten the advantage over the two travelers. In this last encounter with the migrating pack of wolfmen, she only had to kill one of the pups that had attacked. She slipped up behind him as he closed on the horse the mage had lost and slit its scrawny throat before it could so much as howl.

  She couldn’t help but grin at her own skill. Wolfmen were almost impossible to sneak past conventionally. Even their pups had nightvision comparable to the elves, hearing sharper than any other race alive, and a sense of smell as strong as a hunting dog. Only those of her order had been able to reliably deal with wolfmen targets, a skill that fetched a great price when they were needed.

  She was certa
in that the elder wolf had seen her as she disappeared back into the snow, as he came upon the horse at almost the same time that the pup had. It mattered not, the wolfman had policed the animal and was taking it back with him instead of killing it like the young one had been about to do. She trailed him a while before she was certain of his motives. Once he left the presence of the mage, he wasn’t important enough for her to be concerned about.

  She watched from an upper branch in a snow laden tree as the young man reunited with the barbarian and continued their journey north. The young man was progressing nicely. A little ahead of schedule, but magic was such an organic thing; it moved at its own pace.

  Chapter 21

  “What do you mean we have to go with you?” Endrance asked.

  The soldier of the patrol that had caught up with them cleared his throat, his breath puffing through the thick wrap of cloth around his face. Only his eyes were visible from over the wrap and under the helm’s brim. He seemed hostile, but not aggressive.

  The soldiers who had come upon them as they made camp were easily identified as Ironsoul troops by their uniforms and kingdom emblems across their shields. They wore winter gear instead of the regular armor the soldiers farther south wore. Their armor was a heavy long coat made of an internal layer of fur and an external layer of leather. In between the layers were light steel plates that were inferior from the normal breastplates, but better than just leathers. They wore heavy fur gloves and boots, and their helms had a fur inner layer before the steel domes. Thick cloth was wrapped around the lower parts of their faces where their helmets failed to cover, and only their eyes were truly visible among them.

  “I told you to come with us now!” the soldier repeated, agitation evident in his voice. “You have to come back with us to the fort for examination!”

  “But… Why?” Endrance asked as he turned with the soldier and the seven other men at arms that had approached them as the two were setting up camp that night. Now the camp was half set and these men were demanding they start moving now.

  “I don’t have to explain it to you!” The soldier was practically shouting. The sword at his hip cleared its scabbard. “Come with us now or I’ll just assume you’re resisting.”

  The young mage kept his eyes on the tip of the sword as it wavered in the firelight before him. Endrance didn’t even need to look in Joven’s direction to know he had his hands on his weapons. The man probably had also plotted out in what order he would have to kill who so they could escape. Knowing him, he probably would succeed as well.

  Endrance held up his gloved hands with the palms out to show he was being accommodating. The back of the right hand glove was now marred by amateur stitching, spelling out ‘Yuraahg’. Endrance had no idea the proper spelling of the name and had to sound it out phonetically. Even if it was improperly spelled, its very presence was a grim reminder to him of what it meant to take a life.

  If they had to defend themselves, the two would fight against these men. But Endrance hoped not to as they were men of Ironsoul, and merely doing their duty as best as they were ordered. Maybe there was still a chance to talk it through with them.

  “Excuse me, soldier.” Endrance stated as clearly as he could. “I am the Wizard Endrance, en route to the borders of Ironsoul, and I have done nothing deserving of arrest. But if there is reason to do so anyways then say it, and we will accompany you back to your fort.”

  At the mention of being a wizard, several men of the patrol blanched and exchanged looks. The one who had been doing all the talking only narrowed his eyes and took a step forward aggressively.

  “A likely story.” The man growled. “Now sub-“

  Endrance had been preparing himself for this since he began his own request. He could already tell the caliber of the man before him, and figured him for the type of watchman who used his power and status to bully others who had to submit to the law. As the man showed that he wasn’t going to be civil, Endrance already had all the power he needed gathered for the spell he was going to cast.

  He thrust his left hand towards the snow around the man’s feet with his fingers outstretched and he released the spell energy into the spell he was slinging. “Deserpo!” he shouted, interrupting the man, and the effects were immediately and drastically noticed.

  While slinging the spell reduced its power by a fair margin, he had compensated with more than enough extra power to make up for it. The snow at the man’s feet seemed to explode into an exponential amount of volume, forming a pillar of snow with the now frightened soldier within. In less than a second the snow compressed around the man, leaving him incased in a column of ice that kept him completely immobilized. The light of the fire Joven had made barely half an hour ago flickered through the column’s crystalline structure, and glanced off the plate of the soldier’s helmet within, creating interesting fractal light patterns.

  By virtue of the spell he had spent countless weeks designing, it was meant entirely to be an immobilization method when he was in cold terrain. The words of power were arranged in such a way, and memorized the same, that one trapped within the ice was still capable of breathing so long as a fair bit of the ice was exposed to air as well. Otherwise he would have just sealed the man in his icy tomb; countering the spell would take longer than most men had air.

  The rest of the patrol backed away fearfully, but had not broken ranks. If the mage had pressed his attack on the rest, they would have surely fled. As is, they held their weapons and shields at ready, and had fanned out, encircling the two that remained in their spots. Endrance turned to stare purposefully at the next closest man.

  “Now, where were we?” Endrance said cheerfully. “I believe I was just stating that I’m a wizard with all that title entails, and would like to know why you want to detain me.”

  The man gulped, but put his weapon away. “Sir Mage.” The man stated nervously, using the general honorary title for mages. “We apologize for offending you. We are only acting on our orders to bring in anyone suspicious within an hour’s ride of the fort.”

  Endrance smiled, and held his hands out at his sides. “I was suspicious?”

  “Well, you are travelling with a barbarian.” The soldier stated. “Uh… Sir Mage.”

  Joven scoffed but said nothing.

  “Even a wizard like me finds that a bodyguard can be extraordinarily helpful when I am travelling abroad.” Endrance explained, choosing to not waste time trying to explain the whole of his story. “What is the matter?”

  The soldier waved the other men down, and they sheathed their swords. After regrouping, the men sat down near the fire so they could explain in relative warmth. Every few moments one of the men would glance at the pillar of ice standing just outside the warmth of the firelight. Endrance and Joven sat opposite, but Joven had enough foresight to start repacking their gear while the men talked to Endrance.

  Endrance looked over at the man encased in the frosty column and asked aloud. “Do you think he’s learned his lesson?”

  The man who had spoken to him before stared at him wide eyed. “You mean he’s alive?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes. I designed the spell to allow him to breathe, but I would wager he’s getting mighty cold in there. I suppose he could freeze to death if he stays there much longer than the few minutes he’s been trapped.” Endrance replied casually. “I could let him out; if you think he’s figured out I am who I say I am.”

  The men around nodded immediately. “Yes sir mage!” the new lead soldier replied. “Please forgive him!”

  Endrance waved his hand in no specific direction. “Alright, please wait here.”

  The young wizard climbed to his feet, and plodded back to the encased soldier. He could feel the remaining energy in the ice he had conjured. Left on its own, the spell would be able to maintain itself until the summer suns came and the rest of the granted energy was expended keeping the ice formed in the heat. He placed one gloved hand on the ice structure and closed his eyes, feeling
out the structure of the spell he had cast with his senses tuned by years of training.

  The ice crystal was of his own construction, so he was very swiftly able to disassemble the spell to its breaking point. After a minute of concentration, he pulled his hand from the crystal, flinging it behind him as if he were tossing something behind his back. The spell energy rapidly vacated the crystal, flowing into his hand in a barely visible rush of gold tinted wind leeched from the ice and into his palm, sweeping up his arm and disappearing into his chest. Instantly the ice formed around the soldier reverted into a cloud of snow with a faint poof sound.

  The soldier collapsed to his knees as a mass of snowflakes drifted down around him, dropping his sword and shield as he coughed and shuddered. Shivering, he looked around, confused and freezing. His eyes finally focused on the outstretched hand of the very mage who had frozen him, and his gaze followed his arm up to the young man’s face, which smiled at him as he stared at the wizard with incredulity.

  “Now,” Endrance began. “Shall we try this again more civilly?”

  He nodded. After a moment he realized that Endrance was offering him a hand up. He took it, and with some effort the young mage had him on his feet again.

  “What is your name, soldier?” Endrance asked gently.

  “H-h-hill, s-s-s-sir-r-r…” The soldier repeated through chattering teeth.

  “Alright. Soldier hill, come sit by my nice and warm fire and we can discuss what the big rush was. Seeing as you’re in no condition to travel quite yet I think we will have time to talk. Does that sound alright?”