Spellscribed: Provenance

by Kristopher Cruz

  Joven continued on his questions. “If it's so dangerous, why do people practice demonology? Wouldn't they rather take a safer profession?”

  The wizard shrugged. “Power, what else? Demonology is a quick and dirty way to power. Even an untrained dolt who knows little of the craft can summon a demon if the conditions are right. Demons are incredibly powerful allies if you can get one on your side. Some of the more powerful ones can even grant the summoner's wishes, in return for freedom. This practice can lead to great power, but is also so dangerous and risky that usually only the insane and the black-hearted pursue it.”

  Joven pointed at the loose stack of parchments on the desk. “So, what else do you have?” he asked curiously.

  The young mage shuffled his pages, producing one of the other sketches he made. “This set of markings indicates the type of contract the demon is being summoned for.” He opened another tome and pointed to a matching set of symbols. “There.” he said, scrutinizing the text below. “It looks like the demon was summoned to serve for a year and a day as a personal consort.” He furrowed his brow, piecing things together. “I find that sex as it is, is amazing enough that why on earth would someone want to risk mind, body and soul to have it with a demon?” he asked, looking through his stacks of pages.

  Joven shook his head and looked around the library. He wasn’t going to go into that conversation with the young man. “Is that day part important?” he asked, squinting at a shelf of books.

  Endrance stopped paging through his notes and looked back at the barbarian poking through his shelves. “Huh?” he commented, unsure what he was talking about.

  “The year and a day.” Joven stated. “Is that extra day on the end important or something?”

  The young mage shrugged. “It seems to be the commonly accepted limit on how long a demon can remain bound. The books I’ve read today tell me that any longer risk them breaking free of their imposed contract and I’ve already explained what happens then.”

  “Ah.” The barbarian said. He picked up a book and flipped it open. He pinched a page and turned it, but cringed when he heard the paper start tearing. He closed the book and put it back, looking from the shelf to his ward with a sheepish grin on his face. “Oops!”

  Endrance sighed, shaking his head. The young mage quickly sorted through his pages as he looked for other information. Finding the page he desired, he opened yet another tome near the edge of the desk. Leaning over it, he compared symbols until he found a match several pages in.

  The wizard pondered the situation, and devoted his considerable intellect to the task. He considered the succubus, the timing and the coming eclipse and other possible outcomes. Sadly, he knew fairly quickly what the most likely course was. “Joven.” Endrance called to his friend and bodyguard. “Please go find out for me exactly how many children will be birthed on the eve of the eclipse?”

  Joven grinned, clapping a closed fist over his breast. “Right away, Endrance.” And without another word set out. He in all reality probably wouldn’t be able to know for sure, but he could find out a rough number.

  The young wizard thought about his options with the eclipse, and knew that he had to be there for each birth to check their babe for the markers that might indicate they are the hero. So the two things he had to figure out in the weeks ahead was to find out the specific markers for identifying the hero, and to figure out how to get to each of the births in the same night.

  Several hours later the door jumped in its frame as someone knocked a little too hard on it. The women placed their hands on the daggers strapped to their left arms, waiting. Endrance chuckled as he got up to answer the door. “Must be Joven.” he stated, unlatching the door and opening it.

  The big barbarian on the other side grinned at the Spengur as he waved a loosely rolled scroll in his face. “Hey Endrance!” he exclaimed. “I figured out how to get you to all the births in no time at all!” He swept into the already crowded room, seeming not to notice the women now crammed into one side of the open space of the small library. He laid a scroll down on the desk and unrolled it right over the wizard's papers and books. It appeared to be a map of the eight bowls of Balator and their general building layout. “See, what I think we can do is to get all the women who may be giving birth the night of the eclipse into the churches, nearby the Spengur’s longhouse here in the seventh bowl.” He pointed to the cluster of large buildings in the bowl. “That way we can watch the pregnant ones, and shift the ones who actually are going to give birth during the eclipse itself to your main hall here,” he pointed at the longhouse on the map. “Here we can handle the delivery of those who give birth while the moons eclipse the suns and you can check each child as they are born for the signs of the prophesied one!” The barbarian slapped his hand on the scroll, causing a puff of dust to escape from under it.

  Endrance smiled at his friend. “That's a good plan, Joven.” the young mage sighed as he looked back down at the page. “The only problem is that I cannot get to the only real truth of what identifies the prophesied child!” He exclaimed, shaking his head.

  “Well friend,” he responded, “that's what makes it fun!” he laughed as he swept back out of the room, possibly to prepare for the search.

  Endrance worried about his predicament. If he didn’t do what the king asked, then he would likely be killed or worse, fired from his position as Spengur. If he did what he asked, then he needn’t put all of the coming up effort into it; He would just be declaring the king’s son the prophesied hero anyways. He rubbed at his temples with a hand while trying to clear the dread creeping around his heart.

  “May I ask you a question?” Endrance asked, his voice meek.

  Anna held out her hands passively. “Whatever you wish to ask of us, dear husband.” she said.

  He closed his eyes and thought deeply about telling them about the King's words, but first he needed to know that he wasn't going to endanger either his life or theirs. “If I told you something, and it was a very dangerous piece of information, do you have to tell anyone about it?”

  Anna shook her head. “Anything you say to us in confidence will never be told to another outside of this room.” she answered calmly.

  “Even if it was the king who ordered you to talk?” he added.

  Anna smirked. “Remember that we are dead to Balator; Even the king cannot force us to tell that which we do not wish to discuss. They call us the Draugnoa for a reason.” she replied, a noticeable level of sarcasm on her voice.

  Endrance shook his head. “I'm sorry,” he apologized “I should have remembered that.”

  Bridget spoke up, finally moving from her position on the wall. “The Ergkinoa was a part of Barbarian Culture long before King Rothel united the tribes of barbarians in this region and formed Balator. The laws of our sovereignty from the rest of the kingdom are laid in the foundation of our kingdom's laws. And since we were a ‘sacrifice’ to you, the only one who has control over our actions is you.” She inclined her head towards Endrance. “And while I don’t have to like you, I still have to serve you to the best of my ability.”

  “And why is that?” Endrance said sharply, sitting up in his chair. He was aggravated by the stress of the coming eclipse and just couldn’t let her one-sided commentary go by this time. “Why do you hate me so much?” he scowled as he stood from his chair.

  Anna and Selene exchanged glances, and promptly left the library. The door had barely clicked closed when Bridget responded.

  “Because you are weak!” she hissed, shaking her fist at him. “Look at you! So scrawny and you don’t even try to get in better shape!”

  Endrance shook his head. “I train every weeks end with Joven.”

  She scoffed. “Yes, with knives!” she pulled hers out and with a casual flick stuck it into the wall near Endrance’s head. “Even children can use knives!” She scowled at him fiercely. “A strong woman like me deserves to have a strong husband, but all I have is such a pathetic reed of a husband!”
she shook angrily. “And they expect me to sleep with you?” her shoulders shuddered as she laughed to herself. “I would break you, boy!”

  Endrance felt angry again, this time he knew exactly why and where it came from. “Well then come on.” He said quietly, his hands balled into fists. “Let us see then, just how weak you think I am.”

  She laughed derisively at him, turning away. “No way!” she exclaimed, “I wouldn’t waste my time beating a wimp like you into paste!”

  Endrance took a step closer, his eyes flashing angrily. “Oh?” he said, his voice mocking. “I think it’s because you’re afraid I’d punish you for striking me.” He shook his head condescendingly. “Maybe you’re just being a coward.”

  Her eyes flashed angrily, and she whirled on him, swinging her fist in a strong right hook. It was just what Endrance had been expecting, but he made no effort to move out of the way. He wanted to feel her hit him. He wanted to sort this out with her.

  Her fist collided with his cheek, and he reeled with the blow, bounced off the wall to his right, and remained on his feet. He looked at her through his now tossed hair, his eyes still shining angrily. He drew up some of his power, and careful to prevent anger from warping the effect of the spell whispered the word of power. “Ursare.”

  The power flooded his muscles with the strength of a bear, and though he physically didn’t transform, he also felt the temperament of an angry bear form in his mind. Her fist had barely left a red mark on his pale skin. “Is that all you got?” he said, tilting his head up. He raised his left hand and beckoned to her. “Come now,” he said, raising his other hand in a fist. “Let’s do this your way.”

  Anna and Selene waited out in the hallway patiently. Selene almost went into the room again when she heard the sound of someone striking another, but Anna held her back. “I think it would be best if we stay out of this.” She said smartly, looking at Selene. “They have needed to sort themselves out for some time and Bridget’s hard headed enough that I think this is the only way.”

  Selene nodded. “Yeah,” she said, walking with Anna towards the bedroom. “She always did like learning the hard way. I hope she doesn’t hurt Endrance.” She said. “I’ll go get the bandages.” She offered as another crash came from the library.

  Inside, Bridget punched him a second time, this time a quick jab to set herself up for a haymaker, piling all her strength into a heavy punch. The jab connected, tossing his head back, but he was able to see the haymaker coming and threw his hand up in defense. Her fist smacked into his open palm and stopped cold. She looked at their hands in shock as he closed his hand on her fist.

  “My turn.” He said, pulling her close to him as he wound up with his other hand. Bridget threw her other arm up to block his punch, but the blow sent her reeling back. She slammed into the side of a bookshelf, shaking books off their shelves and raining them down around her. She lurched away from the shelf, shoulder ramming him into the wall. She couldn’t understand why he was still standing, but when he let her slam into him and grabbed her with both hands she knew she may have underestimated the young man.

  He spun her away from him, and his foot slid on a loose piece of paper. She crashed back first into the door for the library, and the wood cracked and splintered. Bridget brought a leg up and kicked Endrance away from her as hard as she could, and the door gave way as he resisted most of the blow. He skidded back and she tumbled into the hall in a rain of flinders. Rolling to her feet she saw her husband walk into the hallway steadily, his posture angry but confident. He stepped up to her as she swung, taking the blow to his face, and swinging with his right fist.

  Anna watched the fight with some degree of surprise. She wasn’t sure how the mage was matching her in a straight fist fight, but he was holding his own. In fact, he was proving to be stronger and tougher than her, even though he was very unskilled. Selene rushed back into the hallway and skidded to a stop, dropping the roll of bandages onto the floor in surprise.

  She was a more skilled fighter than he, but he wasn’t trying to avoid her strikes and taking the opportunity to hit back. As his fist impacted with her abdomen and she crashed through the door to the guest bedroom that was hers, she realized he was taking her hits on purpose, and striking back to prove a point. She backed away from him for a moment, holding her stomach as she recovered from his last strike. He paused for a moment, almost in consideration of her, then stepped into the room and swung a wild punch.

  She ducked his blow, and grappled him around the waist with her left arm. Hooking his leg with her right, she easily tossed the lightweight man over her shoulder. He sailed through the air and crashed into the simple wooden night table, smashing it completely. Bridget sidestepped a table leg as it flipped past her and threw a sweeping kick at her husband’s side as he pulled himself up. Her foot impacted with his left side, forcing a ‘woof’ from him as she knocked the breath out of him again.

  Throwing a second kick, the young man threw his left arm in the way, blocking her kick. She pulled her leg back to go for a third, and he rolled into her remaining leg, knocking her over him and into the wreckage of the table. The two pulled themselves to their feet unsteadily, panting.

  She lunged forward, trying to grab him and throw him around again. He grabbed her arms as she grabbed his, and the two struggled to gain control of the clinch. His strength was in fact greater than hers, something that surprised her greatly. However she had better leverage being half a foot taller than him, and he didn’t have steady footing. Twisting her waist while sweeping her foot, she picked her husband up into air and slammed him down upon the bed. The wooden frame cracked as he impacted hard, and the breath left him as bedding flew everywhere.

  “Give up?” she asked, struggling to hold him down.

  “No. You?” he responded after catching a breath, his lip bloody and a bruise forming on his cheek from having been struck there numerous times.

  “I didn’t think you where that strong.” She admitted. Endrance could tell he was getting through to her, though her grip hadn’t slackened. “Why do you hide your power?”

  He grunted as he struggled to break free. “I really just don’t like conflict.” He couldn’t break out of her pin no matter what way he tried. “I don’t think that a person’s physical strength counts…” he grunted. “I think it’s your inner strength that you should be impressed with!” he exclaimed, throwing a knee up and launching her over his head into the wall. He was uncertain if he had overdone it when the wall cracked and she crashed down on top of him. The impact was more than the simple bed could take, and it shattered like so much kindling.

  She was still conscious, and lay on top of him in the pile of the ruined bed without struggling. The both of them were battered and bruised. She looked him in the eyes and for the first time he didn’t see disdain in them.

  “Anyone can work out, train for days on end, and become physically strong.” Endrance whispered as the two of them lay there unmoving. “But a strongman despairs if he fights something stronger than himself.” He felt that these words were as much for him as for another, so he kept speaking. “A person, who grows strong of character, will, and spirit will find a way to survive, even when they are pressed on all sides by many foes stronger than himself.” He knew that he himself would be proving this theory in the days to come.

  “You know…” she said quietly. “I think I could come to like a guy like you…”

  He looked up at her and made a show of examining the wrecked room around them. “It seems we broke your room.” He said. “I think it would be best if you came and stayed in the main bedroom.”

  She nodded. “I think I would like that.”

  He kissed her on the forehead and then his head fell back. “Good.” He responded. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again, okay?”

  She laughed briefly, but winced as pain flared up again. “But I like foreplay.” She joked.

  He winced. “Oh, don’t make me laugh; I think yo
u broke one of my ribs.”

  She shifted so she was lying in the wreckage at his side. “Hey, it’s what I do.” She boasted jokingly. “If something wasn’t broken I wasn’t taking you seriously.”

  “Glad to see that you take me seriously.” He said, breathing shallowly.

  “I do now.” Came her reply.

  “So, do you want me to try out my healing spell?” he asked. “I’m going to use it on myself first of course.”

  “You used some kind of spell to give yourself that strength, didn’t you?” Bridget concluded.

  “Yeah, like I was going to be able to win a contest of strength with you without using my own talents. Just like I was talking about.” He explained.

  “I guess magic isn’t so bad.” She admitted. “But I want you to do that spell thing on me sometime.”

  “Why?” he asked. The spell had worn off after only a minute, but it had been long enough.

  “Because, if it made you that strong, imagine how strong it would make me!” she said with excitement.

  Endrance sighed. Anna and Selene came into the room and helped them into the main hall so he could heal their wounds. The spell worked fantastically for broken bones and bruises.

  ***

  Days later, he had made no further progress.

  “I just don't see it!” he exclaimed. “I have read all the texts here about the prophesied one, and I cannot find this last book they are referencing to!” He shoved the stack of books away from him and stood, turning to face his Keepers. “Do any of you know where this 'Journal of Lehtor' is?” He waved his hands at the whole library within the study. “I checked every book here, and couldn't find it.”

  The women exchanged a knowing glance, and then looked at their husband seriously. Anna stepped forwards, nodding. “We have heard of this journal, dear husband. When our order, the Ergkinoa was established, our education began with the writings from that book.”