Spellscribed: Provenance

by Kristopher Cruz

  Only forty thousand days. Gullin responded. I am barely a hatchling by our race’s standard. It was why you were strong enough to call me.

  Forty thousand! Endrance didn’t think he could sputter mentally, but he did. That’s… over one hundred years old!

  Yes. Gullin stated. Is that old for your kind?

  Endrance shook his head, and Gullin had to spread his wings to keep from being knocked off.

  Yes. That’s older than most humans live.

  But you aren’t fully human, so you should live longer.

  I know about the elven heritage, but I’m not sure how much that will affect it. Besides, won’t mastering magic improve my lifespan anyways?

  Indeed.

  Okay. Endrance said. I need to get to work, please feel free to sit anywhere you like, and chime in if you have anything to say while I’m learning.

  The fjallar popped off his head and flew in a lazy circle around the room, he eventually plopped straight into one of the braziers in the back of the room, and the fire didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. The bird let out a little sigh, and fluffed his feathers and dozed off.

  Endrance stood and stretched. His back had stopped hurting, and he nodded, pleased.

  “All right.” He said, calling the attention of his Draugnoa. “I am ready for you to teach me.”

  Chapter 27

  Endrance studied hard the following several days the barbarian culture and history. His Draugnoa were very informative, but could only relay information through word of mouth. He found to his distress that they had been forbidden from learning how to read, instead having to tell the history of their people orally. Since they were no longer bound to Balator’s ways directly, he could order them to learn to read. He would rather they decide to learn on their own though; he didn’t relish having to order them to.

  He took notes of the key parts of Balator’s history, the cultural differences he found between most of the common people to the south and the barbarians themselves. He found that the ‘barbarians’ that most people referred to applied to almost anyone living up in the harsh northern territory, not just the people of Balator. Most of the common people thought of barbarians as brutal bloodthirsty warriors, but from what Endrance had witnessed that impression was false.

  He was certain there were dozens, if not hundreds of warriors as big and powerful as Joven, Balen, or King Kalenden was, but they were not the majority of the people. Sure on average a northerner was taller or broader than your average commoner in a more temperate zone, but they were essentially the same. Those that lived south of the frozen north only saw the big and strong barbarians because they were the only ones who ventured south of their territories.

  After his second week he started to take visits from the barbarians in general. It took two weeks not because he was unprepared but rather it took almost two weeks for someone to build up the courage to visit the Spengur for help. His first case was an old woman who had seen the prior Spengur when she was a young child, and had finally a chance to speak to him in person.

  He sat in the low backed chair in the main hall of the longhouse, while Anna and Bridget stood on either side of him. Selene, being the least intimidating of the three had been delegated to letting people into the longhouse to see the Spengur. Joven stood watch outside with another soldier of Balator, a precautionary move until Endrance was better accepted by the community. His fjallar familiar was perched on his shoulder, looking intently at anything that moved. Selene still couldn’t believe that he was a fjallar totem. They were one of only two totems rarer than the owl.

  The old woman walked into the longhouse, her cane scraping the wooden floor and sometimes catching on the furs as she moved along. Helping her was her son, a farmer who had come out of a desire to protect his mother. The man was lean and tough, but had no real education other than farming. He scowled at Endrance as he helped his mother walk on her cane across the room to stoop in front of him.

  Endrance was concerned for the woman, and waved Selene over.

  She approached, listening for his instructions. Her shyness had faded slowly over the last two weeks, as she had spent much of the time around him and teaching him. It gave her a feeling of control of the situation, being able to instruct him so, and it helped her adjust to interacting with him more readily.

  “Yes, Endrance?” she asked. She hadn’t begun using the phrase ‘dear husband’ like Anna was prone to do, but Endrance wasn’t really sure whether that was a customary saying or just something Anna did. As he had gotten to know them, he was sure it would be something she would do.

  He leaned over in his seat to be close to her ear. He was looking at the elder woman and didn’t notice Selene tremble as he got closer. “I was wondering.” He whispered. “Is it wrong to offer her something to sit on? She looks to be having some problem staying standing.”

  Selene didn’t respond right away, and Endrance thought she was thinking through the nearly forgotten and abolished customs when visiting the Spengur. She eventually nodded her head. “It… It should be fine; I will get her a stool.” She whispered back, quickly pulling away from him and walking out in a brisk pace. She shuddered as she left the room into the hall beyond.

  Being close to him made her conflicting feelings for him all the more jumbled. She didn’t dislike the man, not in the slightest. In fact she found him surprisingly attractive for being one of the shortest and scrawniest men in the city. It was actually kind of nice that even though she was the shortest and youngest of the Draugnoa, he was actually shorter, and skinnier than her. He also paid attention to the three of them, and seemed to honestly care about how they felt, and not if they could still perform their duties.

  It was some other feeling that rose whenever she was near him. She felt anxious, on edge. Her pulse quickened when he was nearby, and she felt like she was about to go into a sparring match again. She shook her head and stepped into the guest room she was sleeping in and picked up the chair and carried it out of the room.

  She had not yet slept with him, not even slept in the same room. She was uncertain why, since she knew it was an eventuality. She liked his looks, he had a sweet and caring personality, and she could see when he cast spells that he was very good with his hands. Still something about how she felt around him seemed off, so she stayed in one of the guest rooms until she figured it out. Bridget had taken the other and practically made it her home. It seemed that she refused to even consider the idea of eventually moving into the main bedroom with him.

  She carried the chair back into the main hall to hear Endrance and the farmer in conversation. She walked up and set the chair behind the old lady as the two conversed, and the woman was more than grateful to sit down for the while.

  “Our crops are failing!” the man shouted, waving a small sack that he now held in his hand. Bits of soil and dirt fell through the weave, and Selene figured it was a sample of his crops, soil included. “Last season we had to fire one of our workers for stealing some of our tools. When I confronted him on it the man cursed my land!” he seemed as angry about the crops as he was being here. “I want you to go to my farm and remove the curse from my land!”

  Endrance nodded, taking a split second to thank Selene for the chair. She blushed and stepped aside; waiting for anything else she could help in. Already she was thinking of gathering the cold weather clothes and boots for a hike down the mountain, as well as to pack some things for the trip since it would likely take the rest of the day.

  He held out a hand, as if expecting something. “May I see the bag you brought me?” he asked gently. “If your land is cursed, then I may be able to see what it is from that.”

  The man looked at the bag in his hand, and the young mage’s hand. He seemed unwilling to actually walk the distance and hand it over personally. Selene stepped forward, her hands cupped to receive the bag. “Let me take it to the Spengur.” She said gently.

  The farmer dumped the bag into her hands, a disgusted look on hi
s face. “Keep it,” he said, “Stuff’s all wrong anyways.”

  Selene walked over and handed the bag to Endrance, who opened it and pulled a pinch of soil out of it. Pouring it into his palm, he sniffed it, and sprinkled some of it back into his palm. Frowning, he looked at the farmer. “Tell me,” Endrance began, “How often do you irrigate your crops?”

  The farmer shrugged. “Enough, I guess.” He responded. “Ma always used to do it before I did, now she’s too old to, so me and my men do it all ourselves.”

  Endrance nodded, dumping the soil in his hand into the bag again. He stood, and the farmer took an involuntary step back. “I suppose this season your crops took too long to sprout, and have been growing slower than anyone around you?”

  The farmer agreed. “Yes, and much o’ them’s dying off too.”

  Endrance handed the bag to Bridget, who scowled at him but said nothing. “Very well then. I will need to take some time here to examine the soil, and I will return with a solution.” Endrance smiled kindly to the old woman. “I will find out what is going wrong with your family’s crops.” He glanced at the Draugnoa. “Selene, if you would be so kind as to keep them company, I will be at the alchemy table. Anna, Bridget, please come with me.”

  The young mage entered to his bedroom, sitting on a stool next to the alchemy equipment as he waited for the two of them to arrive. Pouring some chemicals, he held out his hand to Bridget. She set the bag into his hand, and he rummaged through it, sifting his fingers through the dirt.

  “So do you think it’s a curse on his land?” Bridget asked.

  Endrance shook his head. “Of course not!” He found a suitable sample of the soil and carefully dispersed a pinch of it into the chemicals in a vial. The clear blue liquid turned cloudy, and he muttered ‘aha’ as he looked through the vials of chemicals for something specific. Gullin, hopping about on the table, carefully slid a vial in front of him which he picked up and unstoppered.

  Anna frowned as she tried to make sense of what he was doing. “Then what is it?” she asked.

  Endrance looked up at her as he poured a drop of another chemical into the vial. The solution turned clear and colorless. To the Keepers it seemed it was now filled with water. He held up the vial and commented in a matter-of-fact tone, “It’s the soil.” He put the vial into a rack and looked at it as he explained.

  “A few years ago I was studying under my master when one of the farmers in our area had a similar problem. He was a first generation farmer, and didn’t know what he was doing wrong. Kaelob looked his farm over, and after testing the soil informed him that his irrigation methods left too much salt behind. It happens more often south of here I would wager, since much of your irrigation water is melted snow and hasn’t had much time to pick it up flowing through rivers and similar salty areas.” He shrugged. “It was likely building up over several years, and only now started affecting his crops.”

  Anna looked at her young husband, impressed. The young man wasn’t yet sixteen, and had already learned so much about things he wasn’t even trained in. “And you just happened to know this?” she asked, holding out a hand to help the young man from his stool.

  Endrance smiled faintly. “I asked a lot of questions when I was a child.”

  Bridget blew air through her teeth. “You should have spent some of that time getting some exercise.” She said under her breath.

  Endrance hadn’t missed the statement, but chose to ignore it. “Come, we need to let him know what is going on.” He said, walking out of the bedroom, Keepers in tow.

  The farmer looked surprised that the trio was only gone for a few minutes. He looked at his mother, and back at the Spengur. “You found the curse already?” he asked. “Can we go now and remove it?” he looked hopeful.

  Endrance sat on his chair, and looked plainly at his visitor. “I have some instructions for you.” He said. “If you follow these instructions your crops will pick up and may even be fully recovered by harvest time.”

  The farmer scowled, but listened.

  “You need to increase the amount of water you give your crops. Fix the irrigation so that everything gets extra water for the rest of the season. When the season is over, you need to re-plan your furrows so that everything gets equal amounts of water.”

  The farmer interrupted then stepping forward and angrily jerking his thumb at his chest. “You are trying to tell me I’m doing a bad job on my crops?” he shouted.

  Endrance tilted his head. “No, I am trying to say that you need to change a little thing, and you will be fine. There is no curse on your crops, it just needs an-“

  He was interrupted again as the man shouted angrily. “You don’t know nothing you filthy mage!” he cried, pulling a knife from his belt and charging the short distance across the hall towards the young wizard. Endrance was surprised how quickly the man turned to violence, but remained seated like he had been instructed to.

  The farmer never got a chance to attack. Selene, who had been waiting passively nearby the two visitors burst into action. Her eyes wide and her expression blank, she slid into the farmer’s left side, her left hand grabbing the wrist of his left arm and her right elbow sank into his side. He stumbled as she pulled his arm down and kicked his foot out from under him, flipping him over his own head to land on his back with a loud crack. Air rushed out of his mouth and he gasped for breath. Gullin cawed at the man, but hadn’t taken flight when the fighting burst out.

  The main doors of the longhouse burst open and Joven barreled in, to see the man pinned to the ground by Selene, her knee on his shoulder and her knife against his throat. Her face was still blank, and Joven had to call out her name twice. She seemed to snap out of it, and stepped away from the man she took down, looking more flushed from embarrassment than exertion.

  Joven picked up the man and carried him out of the longhouse. The old woman watched her son go, and after being offered a hand up, thanked the Spengur for his assistance. She said she would monitor the fields, and make sure her son did as he asked. Endrance smiled and said farewell as she departed.

  He turned to Selene when the guests were gone, and whistled. “That was amazing!” he said, looking her in the eye. “You just took the man down like he was nothing!”

  She turned her eyes away, still feeling anxious. “I don’t know about that, I just did what I needed to.” She said.

  He embraced her briefly, and he felt her stiffen in a moment of resistance. Her scent filled his nose, like fresh rain in a clean fall evening. “You did just fine!” he said. Releasing her, he stepped back and looked at Anna. “Is that all for today?” he asked.

  She nodded, tilting her head to the door. “Those two were the only people to come visit for the first day. Though I’m not sure strong arming the first person out was the best idea.”

  The wizard sighed. “Yes, well I can’t very well let them stab me freely either.”

  Bridget snorted derisively. Selene tittered and tried to be quiet, and Anna rolled her eyes. “Let us worry about the physical threats against you, dear husband.” She assured him “You have more pressing concerns than people who are angry at the truth you lay before them.”

  That night out of concern for the safety of his guardians if they were likely to get injured protecting him, spent several hours searching for a spell of healing he could learn. Only during the nights did he really have the free time to spend deep within his spell books. He made progress learning many of his prior Spengur's spells, including many spells that were several hundred years old and generally forgotten by even the most studious members of the magical community.

  He wielded his magic sparingly, and only used it after great consideration to how it would help his people. They would eventually come to accept him as their own, as they began seeing the positive consequences of his advisement. He quickly came to feel for them as a people, despite their paranoia of magic. It reminded him that no man is a master of all things. Just as they knew little of magic, he knew little of bat
tle.

  It was a few days later that Endrance had been called to investigate something that set his nerves on end. He received an official request from Balen, asking him to investigate a cave that had been discovered just outside the first bowl of the city. He had traveled there early in the morning, and had to pass through a rough mountain pass to get to the patrol that had discovered the source of their concern.

  Endrance arrived at the path leading to the cave, where two grim faced guards in leather armor and wearing axes waited nervously for his arrival. He hiked across the rocky terrain to the guards, Joven in tow. Gullin, who travelled everywhere with the Spengur, came to rest on his shoulder whenever the young man stopped moving for more than a moment.

  He had managed to convince the Draugnoa that Joven would be all the protection he would need outside of the longhouse, and his bodyguard was quite happy to be able to spend time away from the stationary task of guarding the longhouse. The two soldiers nodded at Joven and gave a slight customary bow to Endrance.

  “This way,” one of the soldiers spoke, leading the way down the path. “The cave is up here.” The men led the way, picking their way through the rough rocky terrain. “I don’t know how we missed this path before; it was very easy to spot today.” The other man at arms, shaking his head replied “I can’t believe everyone’s missed it. Even for all these years we’ve patrolled around our very capitol.”

  The path led the way to a small cave entrance, jagged and rough, almost giving the appearance of a sharp-toothed maw. While it was tall enough to allow Endrance easy entry it was short enough to make Joven duck under its spiny entrance. The interior of the cave was dank and dark, the faint drip drip of melted snow water echoing through the chambers beyond. The first chamber of the cave was merely ten feet wide and fifteen long, with a ceiling varying between eight and seven feet. The stalactites clustered in the center requiring the two of them to take a circular path to the adjoining passageway on the other side of the room.