by HC MacDonald
Legends of
Thamaturga
The Traveler
To my family whom I love dearly. Without you, I would not have ventured to write this story.
To my sister, without her help and encouragement I would not have finished.
To my fans, I hope you enjoy this adventure.
Prologue
The world was plainer back then. No difference, no wonder. The elderly man stepped off his boat and onto what he thought was another deserted island. He was surprised when he was greeted by a tribe of midgets. They were colorful and exotic. Varying in skin shades from blue to green to purple and pink. The man was awed by the diversity of the small group. He was invited to sit with them for a spell where they offered to teach him what they knew. The man graciously agreed for knowledge was what he sought. At the end of his stay he offered them gifts. Items he had collected on his travels. The people asked for more. The elderly man obliged. He in turn gave to them all he had, his blankets, his coat, his belongings.
In return he was granted a gift from the tribe. The elderly man refused because knowledge was all he sought. For his generosity and kindness, the leader bestowed upon him the gift of the island, the knowledge of magic.
The elderly man grateful for the gift promised to spread the magic to all he came by. He left the island and headed back to his home land. There, he traveled across the land of Thamaturga sharing a small piece of magic with those he met along the way. When all his knowledge was shared, the world became a diverse and exotic place like unto the island that gave him his gift.
Book 1
The Traveler
Chapter 1
Time
Raina
I was eight years old when my world changed. My mother, father, and I were playing outside in the meadow by our home at the edge of the village. I was laying on the grass with a butterfly on my shoulder. Life was peaceful. Then we heard the warning bells call from the village center. Raiders had been spotted attacking surrounding villages. Now, they were coming to ours. The bells rang violently. My mother snatched me up. We all ran to the protection of our home.
Inside, my father grabbed his sword. He stood in the frame of the door. Ready to protect us.
“He is here, I see him at the edge of the meadow. You know what must be done” my father said as he shut the door behind him.
Mother embraced me. “This will hurt little one.” I watched as she took a twig from the fire. The end still glowing with red amber. She began chanting. Took the upper part of my arm, turned it toward her and burned into my skin unknown symbols. I screamed in pain. My whole body attacked with a thousand needles. She blew on my arm. The pain left instantly. Then again she began chanting. I shook my head and began screaming.
“No! No mom! Please, No!”
Tears running down my cheeks. She grabbed hold of my thigh and again touched the smoldering twig to my skin. Immediately pain surged through my whole body. She blew on my leg and threw the twig into the fire. Hugged me once more. I could hear the fighting going on outside our door. My mother turned our kitchen table over and we huddled behind it.
The fighting outside stopped. I grabbed my mothers skirt for comfort. She moved her hand in an effort to comfort me, when our door burst open by a demon of a creature, a Raider.
He was large, brownish green in color. Covered in a deep brown leather vest and blood stained pants. The color only highlighted the sickening green of his skin. His shoulders broader than the door frame. He crouched his greasy long black haired head down to walk in. His face was cratered with boils bursting to open. Teeth yellow and jagged. He snarled at my mother. All I could do was hold my mothers skirt and not scream. She began throwing pans, pots, knives, kettles and even logs from the fire at the beastly man. Nothing stopped him from moving towards us. He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the floor over the table. He threw her to the floor. Pinning her there with his legs. I was still hiding behind our over turned table unable to move. He pulled his sword and was posed to kill her, when an old man walked into the room.
He was tall with grey long wiry hair tied back in a leather strap. He had a matching wiry beard that stretched to his navel. Unlike the demon man that entered our home, he had pale skin and wore fine velvet robes in red and purple. When I looked at him, a chill ran down my spine.
With a wave of his hand he threw the beast against the far wall of our home, breaking his neck as he did so. I watched the old man. A milky silver snake made of air moved from behind him. It coiled effortlessly around my mother’s ankles and wrapped her up to her chin, constricting and gaging her. She was lifted off the floor and was level with his eyes. He spoke to her in a low voice. When he was done, my mother dropped in a heap to the floor. Eyes closed and no longer moving. I stayed frozen where I was. I watched as my mother was wrapped and lifted again to float out of the room behind him.
Then I moved to the frame of the door trying to remain hidden. I saw my father laying on the ground a few paces from our door. He was lying in a pool of blood and unmoving. His eyes wide open. I knew then he was dead. Tears were running down my face. My hands shaking from the shock. I looked around to our neighbors. The bloody paths towards the village center filled with dead bodies of friends and loved ones. I looked back towards my mother. I watched as she was put into a wooden cage cart.
I heard a horn resound through the village. One by one the homes and streets were emptied of the Raiders. They had plundered the homes taking all manner of precious things. They loaded their wagons and gathered in a line. The horn blew again. Together they marched across the meadow toward the Cheyenne path. I waited till they were out of site, then knelt by my fathers side, the tears no longer flowing. I looked around. Yelled for help. No one came. I took in a deep breath. Went into our home, found my satchel. Filled it with a loaf of bread and dried meat. Then headed out on the path to follow my mother. They lead me to this fortress.
That was ten years ago. Now, here I am sitting outside my mother’s prison cell bars with my three traveling companions, all watching as she combined herbs and chanted in the language that gave me my scars.
My mother’s cell was isolated from all the others. The cells were cold, grey and small. A pile of old hay was tucked into the corner against the stone brick wall. There were no windows and only one entrance into this part of the prison. There were four cells in this wing of the fortress. All empty with the exception of hers. Once in a while, they would bring someone into one of the other cells, but they never stayed for long.
I was happy for her isolation. It allowed me to come as I pleased. No guards were ever posted to her cell. No guards were ever posted to her floor. She was truly alone here. My heart ached knowing I was leaving her. We had discussed me leaving many times. I was never ready. I still wasn’t ready. I had lived here in hiding for ten years.
Going out in the world without her scared me. However, now was the time. I felt things were changing I could feel the electricity in the air. My mother new it too, said she could read the signs and insisted we leave the fortress. I knew instinctively she was right, but still I hated to go. I had prepped a bag of scraps. Food, water that I took from the Raiders kitchen for Keiko to carry. I was checking the fastener of the bag that hung over her shoulder.
Keiko was the oldest of the three at Six years. She was slightly taller then the others with curly blondish brown hair, emerald green eyes and a mischievous smile that would make you wonder what trouble she was up to. I had to entrust her to care, protect, and mother them all. It was a huge responsibility for any child, let alone one so young. There was no other option. I too sported a small bag
with scraps of food and water. It was flung over my shoulder, and in my waistband two small daggers. It was almost time to go.
Over the past few months the children and I had been sneaking around collecting various ingredients my mother needed for this potion. When I was young, I learned how to travel through the fortress unseen. Moving about was second nature. I could get to any part of the fortress, outside to the woods, or down to the river. In ten years, I had only been seen once.
The potion was now ready for the final ingredient. Looking at me, my mother asked for the fresh bulb of a red thistle flower. This was a rare ugly weed. Long red stalk with talon like thorns. The flower was composed of black petals and a deep purple bulb. My mom wanted the bulb. She knew I could get it. I had seen it in Nezra’s quarters. I hated to go there. He was the cruel old man who stole my mother from me.
With the memories of my childhood fresh in my mind, a chill ran down my spine. I traveled the length of the fortress. I slipped through the crack in the stone that would put me behind a tapestry in Nezra’s library. I had to go deeper into his quarters, to the garden, to get the bulb. It was three rooms in. So cautiously I crept, staying light on my feet, keeping to the shadows and staying hidden in the tapestries. I went past the tapestry of the map that I had spent hours studying, knew it by heart. I had recalled it for my mother, together we made a travel plan to safety. The town we were headed to was secret, not on the map. It would keep us safe. It was protected by rock cliffs surrounding it on three sides, and the sea on the other.
I had made it thru two of the rooms now and could see the entrance to the garden room. I was hidden behind another tapestry that hung from the ceiling to the floor. This one was a picture of Nezra and a women.
I heard heavy footsteps coming my way. I moved into the center of the picture, hiding my form in one of the large creases of the fabric. The footsteps stopped and I could hear the heavy breathing. It was probably a Raider. Nezra didn’t breathe that loud. I noticed a small hole in the tapestry a few inches to my side. I slide into a position to look out the tiny opening.
Shifting thru piles of papers and scrolls was a Raider. He snorted and pulled out a scroll of a map similar to the large one hanging on the opposite wall. Only this one had strange markings on the edges of the map. I heard more heavy footsteps. Two more Raiders entered the room.
“Did you find the map?” The first snorted angrily.
“See we’ve been out there before.” The second grunted.
“It’s a waste of time, no spoils to bring back. Why does he want us to go back?” The first one questioned.
“You should know your place.” The third commanded.
“I know my place do you?” Was the first raiders response!
The fighting between them began. First shoving, then the clashing of swords. I moved quickly to the edge of the tapestry just as one of them swung at the fabric, slicing it down the middle with his thick blade. If I had stayed, I would be dead.
The fighting didn’t stop. One now had blood running down his side, but that didn’t stop him from rushing the other two. I took the distraction as a chance to run to the garden to hide. I made it around the corner out of view. I peeked my head through the plants to watch the commotion. Then I heard the thunderous voice of Nezra command them to stop. I watched as he entered the room. He slaughtered them all with a wave of his hand. He picked up the map, turned on his heels and left the room. Panic filled me.
With trembling hands I began searching for the flower. It only bloomed once every ten years. We had been waiting patiently for it to be ready. I found it hidden behind two larger thorn covered plants. There was only one flower in full bloom. I didn’t care about the scratches or thorns; I just wanted to be out of this part of the fortress. I grabbed the bulb. Ran out of the wing. Jumped over the pile of dead bodies and slid into the hole in the wood floor onto a trellis headed in the direction of my mother.
My heart was still racing, I had made it back to her. I watched as she separate the bulb of the flower and placed it in the bowl, I was glad I wouldn’t have to see Nezra again. Silently we all sat watching her, our goodbyes already said, instructions given. My mother mashed the bulb into the mixture. A wisp of green smoke left the bowl. I didn’t have the talent she did when it came to potions. Mine would end up as a pile of soupy paste that did nothing. I could speak the same words as her, and still nothing. I was not gifted like she was.
“I still think you should send me first. Then I will be waiting for them.” I said.
“There is not enough here to send us all.” She expressed with a concerned look on her face. “If I send them first, they will be together. If I send you first and the potion is not enough, then what? How will you find them? Do I let Keiko be all alone, or maybe Juji or Wyatt? Maybe leave one here trapped with me. Who would you leave to fend for themselves? This is better! Together they are better! You will find them.”
I knew my mother was right. The children had a better chance of watching over each other together then separated. That didn’t stop me from worrying.
My mother was looking at Keiko. Waving her hand over the bowl. The potion was working. A ray of light the colors of sunrise shot up in a circle around Keiko. It only took seconds and she was gone. With it, a third of the potion. Juji was next. The same beautiful light of fire encircling her, then Wyatt. Once all three were gone, my mother looked at me. Barely a spoonful of potion left.
“There’s not enough to get you to them.” She quietly said, “Find them!”
“I’ll do my best.”
Was all I got to say before she was no longer in my sight, but a flaming haze of light in her place. As quick as it started it ended. I was now standing in a meadow surrounded by wild grass that I was barely taller then. No one in site. A thin remnant of a path in front of me. Panic swelled up inside and I ran.
Chapter 2
Run
Raina
My breath was heavy and my legs felt like lead, but I kept running. My mind glimpsing back to images of the fortress. My mom whispering to me. I knew she would keep me headed in the same direction. I just needed faith that this path would lead me to them.
It had taken me all day and late into the night when I reached a solitary stone building in the midst of an open field. There was no roof and two of four walls were crumbling to the ground. There was no sign of movement. I walked into the center of the structure. My only greeting; piles of more stone fallen years before. I glanced around. My eyes began to swell with tears. My fear of losing them getting the better of me. I sat in the dirt and allowed myself a moment to cry. As I did, the exhaustion from running hit me and I drifted into a tortured sleep.
Morning came, a ray of sunlight hitting my face telling me it was time to wake up. I rubbed my swollen eyes. Looked around. The sun was barely above the horizon. That’s when I saw them, the small footprints in the dirt. The finger drawing in the sand. The pile of grass and flowers in the corner. They had been here. My heart leapt with joy. I followed the tracks out the side of the building and to another path. I began running again. Following the tiny sets of footprints. Eager to catch up to my little group.
The sun was now setting, or at least I thought it was, the clouds had turned grey and the sky overcast. A low fog began to stick to the ground. Making it hard to see the path. The trail seemed to be leading to a decaying old town in the distance. It would make sense they would continue toward it and find shelter for the night. My anxiety was bubbling up. I hoped they would be there, that I had finally caught up to them.
As I entered the town, something seemed off. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My nerves were on edge. I gingerly walked down the middle of the single street. I could no longer see the ground, or for that matter distinguish any tracks without the sun or moonlight. They had to of continued this way, I thought. I kept an eye out for them as I walked. A night chill had set in. The moon stayed hidden behind the clouds. The homes and buildings here were made of weathered wood s
tacked together as if needing each other for support. The smell of decay and rot hung in the air. If I hadn’t been used to the smell I would have vomited. The windows were cracked and broken with torn battered curtains swaying in the light breeze. You could hear the wood creaking as if it was warning you of danger ahead.
I had seen many things, but this, it sent a warning chill up my spine. Fear for the children started to take over my mind. I turned down the only other street in this forgotten town. As I rounded the corner there were people sitting on the ground, leaning against the walls, standing still in place stopped for no reason at all. I froze. I crouched down moving into the shadows, getting ready to defend myself. I looked closely to see if I could identify the three familiar faces of my group hiding amongst the crowd.
All I found were hunched over, drab lifeless people. They had no color in their faces. Worn, torn clothing hung loosely on there skeleton thin bodies. Each face hollow from lack of food and sun. If they were a threat, it wouldn’t be much of a fight for me. I doubted they had the energy to even lift a finger, let alone fight or chase me. None looked up at me. These people were as weathered as this town was and of no threat.
I looked again at the shadows, no sign of the children. I looked back at the way I had come contemplating back tracking. There, coming out from the fog lifeless people. They looked as if the fog was carrying them into this town. The sound of rusted metal clanked against the night. I turned in a slow circle assessing my situation. Only two streets. The way I had come, or continue on. I could go back and go around this place, through the briars and thicket I had just come, but the tracks had led me this direction, I knew they had passed through if not still here. I decided to continue on. The two small blades I packed in my back waist band came out.