Qyxal pulled the two infinity cards from the deck and laid them in front of Justan. “Like in other games, every time the dealer deals out the correct number of cards, he turns over one more. The element on that card becomes the power element for that hand. The two infinity cards are always power element cards.”
On one of the infinity cards, the symbol in the center was colored blue and gold while on the other one it was red and black. Justan looked around the room and noted that this pattern was continued throughout all four sections in the Hall of Elements. All of the furnishings were trimmed in a complementing color. The blue tables had gold trim, and the gold tables had blue trim. The black tables were lined with red and the red with black.
Vannya saw where his eyes were looking and figured out where his thoughts were leading. “Yes, Justan. The room is a clue as to why the infinity cards are colored this way. You see, in magic, certain elements are linked, air with water, and earth with fire. That is the natural order of things.” Justan looked confused at the statement and Vannya added, “Does not water gather in the air and come down as rain?”
Justan frowned, “Sure, but how does fire blend with earth? I have always been taught to put out a fire by covering it with dirt.”
“The great earth wizards say that deep down in the ground there are fires that burn so hot that the very rock melts to become liquid flame.” Vannya said.
“Okay, I guess. So where do your talents lie?” Justan asked. “You can summon a bolt of lightning. Does this mean that you have talents in water and air?”
She shook her head. “Lightning is not a mixture of air and water, but air and earth. The friction created by a storm causes lightning to strike. It is actually quite rare for a wizard to have strong talents in two elements that have an affinity for each other. Usually a magic user will have talents in opposing elements. Now Professor Valtrek is one of those rare wizards. He has abilities in air and water. This is how he created that rainstorm out in the plains after the goblins attacked.”
“Hmm,” Justan mused. “How about you, Qyxal are your talents in air and earth too?”
“No. Actually, I have a very strong earth talent but I’m fairly weak in all the other elements. I think it has something to do with my elven heritage.”
Justan wondered where his own talents would lie.
Vannya was wondering the same thing. “What do you think your talents are, Justan?”
“I have no idea. The things that I did . . .” He thought about the armed combat test, how he had seemed to absorb the energy of the crowd to use in battle. “I can’t see where they have anything to do with any element.”
“Well you are going to find out about your talents soon,” she said. “But for now, let’s play. We only have short time until Qyxal needs to take you to your next class.”
Qyxal explained the rules. “In the game of Elements, the players are dealt a number of cards. Everyone lays down a card and the higher letter defeats the lower letter. The winner takes the cards that everyone laid down. This is called a trick.”
Justan understood. This was a common term in most of the card games he had ever played.
“When you receive your cards, you declare how many of these tricks you will take. If you were correct as to how many tricks you took, then you receive ten points plus one for each trick. But only if you were precise. If you take one more, or one less, you receive no points.”
“But what if you don’t think that your cards are worthy of taking any tricks?” Justan asked.
Qyxal explained. “Then you declare that you will take zero. If you are correct, you receive ten points.”
Vannya took over. “Everyone takes turns being the dealer. We start out with eight cards. Then when those cards are played we deal out seven, when those are played we deal out six, and so on until only one card is dealt. Then we start back up until we finish the game with eight cards again. At that time, whoever has the most points wins.”
“Let’s just play then,” Justan said. “I can figure it out as we go.” It still felt like a waste of time, but he figured that there were worse ways to spend the morning than playing a game with some friends.
They played one full game and though Justan caught on pretty quick, Qyxal won handily. Despite his misgivings, Justan found the strategy of the game intriguing. He did not see what deeper meanings the wizards could be teaching, though.
When they left the hall, it was mid-afternoon and a bit gusty. The chill fall breeze felt good on Justan’s face. He couldn’t believe that winter would be there in just a few weeks. This year had flown by so fast for him, yet it seemed as though he had been through several years worth of experiences in that short period of time.
Vannya grasped his arm. “I must go now. I have some experiments to attend to. But I will see you soon, probably at dinner.” She turned to leave, then paused for a moment. “Oh, Justan, there is an Elements tournament every Friday for the students. You should join in. It’s fun.”
With that, she spun around and headed toward the RuneTower. As Justan watched the woman leave, his gut churned. Zambon said Vannya had given him, “the look.” Was it possible that Vannya was attracted to him? Justan dismissed the thought. There was no way that someone as pretty as her could like an oaf like him.
Qyxal started to lead him to a building on the far side of the school grounds, but Justan remembered something he needed to do before the class started. “Qyxal, where are my things?”
“Your belongings? They were put in your room when we brought you to the infirmary.”
“Well I’m not properly dressed for class. Can we stop by there first?” Justan asked innocently. Qyxal looked at him and frowned. Justan was obviously wearing a proper school robe and he suspected that the elf knew what he was up to.
Qyxal looked up at the clock tower. “I suppose that we have a few minutes, but we must hurry.”
They ran to the cadet dormitory. When they got to his room, Justan opened the door and gasped.
The room was a mess. Justan’s belongings were scattered about. His clothes were in a pile on the bed. His swords were out of their sheaths on the floor. The Jharro bow, Justan’s prized possession, a weapon of unbelievable magic that had been given to him by his trainer Jhonate, was unstrung, leaning against his closet door. An arrow was buried halfway into the ceiling.
Justan’s new roommate, Piledon sat on the other bed in the room examining Justan’s dual-bladed dagger in his hands. Justan grit his teeth. The dagger was a gift given to him by his dwarven friend Lenny.
Piledon was a man of average height and slight build. His hair was disheveled. His chin was scruffy and the yellow robes he wore were in disarray. The cadet looked up at their arrival and noted the anger on Justan’s face. He put on an insolent grin.
“Hello! You must be my new roommate. Let me tell you, this dagger is something else. Watch this.” Piledon picked up the golden bowstring from the bed beside him and held it to the serrated blade on the dagger. Qyxal winced and Justan’s jaw dropped in horror as, with a twang, there was a flash of magic. The bowstring was cut in two.
The blood drained from Justan’s face as he saw the precious gift destroyed. The dragon hair string turned any arrow it propelled into a missile of explosive power.
Qyxal stormed over to the cocky cadet. “Do you have any idea what you have just done? You have destroyed a priceless artifact!”
Piledon blinked at the two halves of the bowstring in his hand. “Really? Gee I’m sorry. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” He tied the two pieces together in a small knot. “Will this work?”
Justan walked towards the man with such rage that Qyxal was afraid that he would kill him. Piledon just sat with an innocent expression on his face.
“No good, huh? Wait, maybe this will work.” The cadet stuffed the knotted ends of the bow string into his mouth and began to chew.
Justan's face was a mask of pure fury. With one smooth motion, he picked up one of his swords and pressed the tip
against the man’s neck. Piledon eyes went wide.
“Wait, wait!” The cadet pulled the string out of his mouth and stretched it. The knot disappeared and the bowstring was whole. “See, it’s fine. I really didn’t cut it. It was just a joke. I was practicing an illusion, honest.”
With the tip of his sword still pressed to the man’s throat, Justan took the slightly damp bowstring and switched to his mage sight. To his relief, the bowstring’s magical glow was intact. He looked back to his roommate.
“I don’t know you. But just in case it isn't obvious yet, let me make this clear. I did not find this funny. Where I come from, touching another man’s weapon without permission is a death sentence. Do you understand me?” Piledon nodded carefully, leaning back to avoid being cut by the tip of Justan's sword.
“Very well, then.” Justan said. “When I come back to this room tonight, I will expect all of my belongings to be packed back where you found them. If I ever see you touch one of my things again, I will kill you.”
Justan sheathed his swords and placed them into the closet. He then tucked the golden string into one of the pockets in his robes, belted on his dagger, and restrung his bow with a normal string. With a start, he suddenly realized that there was something very important missing. He searched around and was relieved when he found the pouch containing the Scralag’s book under the bed. It was unopened. He didn’t dare leave it in the room, so he tucked it into a pocket in his robes for safekeeping. They left the room with Justan’s bow slung over his shoulder.
Qyxal laughed as they walked out of the building. “You scared him pretty bad, but don’t think this is over. I told you when you first got here that this guy has a reputation of being quite the prankster.”
“You forget that I spent four years in Training School. I know all of the pranks.” Justan smiled a wicked grin. “Believe me. If he wants to continue this battle, he will be sorry.”
They hurried across the grounds towards a long rectangular building with no windows. As they were about to enter, Qyxal looked at Justan.
“At the BattleAcademy, can you really kill a man if he touches your weapon?”
“No,” Justan replied. “But if that man does anything like that again, I’m changing the rules.”
Chapter Three
Justan and Qyxal entered a long hallway lined with heavy iron doors on either side. There were no windows, but glowing orbs spaced evenly along the ceiling provided light and each door was labeled with a number. Justan could hear a series of odd sounds echoing down the hall.
A muffled explosion came from within the door closest to them, making Justan jump. His eyes darted between the door and the elf. “Should we go in and help?”
“No-no. This is the MagicTestingCenter,” Qyxal explained. “Testing and developing new types of magic is a very dangerous endeavor and accidents are known to happen. This building was built with very thick reinforced walls and warded to withstand almost any type of released energy. All major magical experiments in the school are done here. I am sure that whomever is inside the room is fine.”
They walked down the hall until they came to a door marked with the number thirteen. “This is your door. I have other duties to attend to. I’ll see you at dinner.” Qyxal said.
“But why am I here?” Justan asked.
“You’ll see.” The elf left Justan with a wave and walked back down the hall.
Justan opened the door to a windowless room empty of furnishings save for two chairs. The walls and ceiling were made of gray stone and the room was lit by torches. A man in nondescript brown robes stood bent over one of the chairs mumbling and tracing symbols on the seat with his finger. He looked up as Justan entered and walked towards him, hand extended.
“Greetings, you must be Justan, son of Faldon the Fierce. I am Locksher, the MageSchool Wizard of Mysteries.”
Justan shook his hand vigorously. “It is very nice to meet you, sir. I have been told that you might be able to help me.”
The wizard accepted the handshake with a gracious nod. “Lately I’ve noticed that just about everyone I meet starts out the conversation with those words.” Locksher was younger than Justan had expected. He was about the same height as Justan and had jet-black hair only slightly graying at the temples. He had one eyebrow raised as he looked Justan over. “Please, have a seat. I must admit I am quite curious after the things that Valtrek has told me about you.”
“Valtrek?” Justan paused before he sat down.
“Yes, he requested that I be the first one to try and help you find out where your powers lie.”
Justan sat. He didn’t want anything to do with Valtrek. The man had taken him from his home and had nearly gotten Jhonate killed. But he pushed those feelings away. It really didn’t matter who had asked Locksher to come. He had questions that he needed answered. Locksher took the chair opposite Justan’s.
“Your reaction tells me that there’s to be more to your visit here than just magic testing,” the wizard said. “But whatever else there is, let’s start with the testing.”
“May I ask a question?” Justan asked. “Why does this test have to be done in a magic-proof room?”
“A perceptive question from a new cadet,” Locksher said, giving Justan an appraising look. “Normally this testing is done gradually throughout the year with a student finding his own pace. However, your situation is a bit different. Your time here at the school is short. You need to find out as soon as possible so that you can maximize your studies. This has been done in the past from time to time, but there have been rather, um, explosive results.”
Justan raised his eyebrows. “Explosive?”
Locksher yawned. “Oh, don’t worry,” the wizard assured him. “No students have ever been harmed. It’s the instructors who have been blown away. This is why I was preparing some protective shields when you came in. As long as I am sitting on this chair, I will be fine.” Justan was taken aback by the casual way in which the wizard spoke of such alarming things. “So, let’s get started then. Clear your mind.”
Justan sat back and emptied his mind. It came easy to him now. Locksher pulled a small crystal sphere from within his robes and sat it on the floor between them.
“Close your eyes. Now, I want you to turn your thoughts inward. Think of the inside of your body, the lungs and heart. Picture them in your mind . . . Good. Hold that picture.”
Justan immersed himself into the wizard’s words, pulling all of his thoughts inside of his body, to the core of himself. He could hear the beating of his heart and the rush of air in his lungs as he breathed.
“Now, Justan, I am going to release a spell. You will feel a tingling in your body. At that time, switch to your mage sight. Ready? Now.”
Justan felt the rush of magic enter him. He kept his eyes closed, but opened his mage sight. To his astonishment, he saw a maze of energy inside of his body. Pulsing flows of incandescent light circulated through his heart and lungs, being distributed to the rest of his body.
Locksher continued, “Do you see the flows? Good. Now follow them up through your neck into your head. They should focus there. Do you see it?”
Justan didn’t know how he would be able to see inside his own head, but he did as instructed. He focused in on the flows of magic leaving his heart. It was an amazing sight as if he had shrunk down and was somehow traveling through his own veins. He followed the flows up through his neck and into the expanding cluster of nerves that were his brain. He narrowed his focus further and saw a brilliant network of energy. Magical flows of all colors and levels of brightness zoomed around in intricate patterns.
“The source of the magic within you is your heart and lungs, but the controlling mechanism of your power is your brain,” Locksher said. Somehow, even though the visions were intense, Locksher’s voice rang in his mind with hypnotic tone.
“Follow the energy down deeper and deeper into your mind until you see a joining. It will look like a knot.”
Justan swam throu
gh the energy. It was like a brilliant fuzzy ball of electrified color moving in so many directions that it was dizzying. He plunged down to the center of it all until he found it, the joining of the energy wrapped tight like a ball of yarn. “Now, I want you to enter the knot, send all of your consciousness inside of it. There you will find what you are looking for.”
Justan thrust himself deep into the knot. There was resistance. He struggled to push himself into it deeper yet. The brilliant light grew stronger and stronger. Suddenly, he heard a loud pop. There was a rush of energy. It was an explosive release and startled him so much that he opened his eyes. Lances of pure magic shot out from him in every direction. Locksher held on to his chair with a fierce grip, surprise on his face. A thin bubble of protective force surrounded the wizard, yet the chair slid backward several feet.
As quickly as it began, it was over. The magic faded and Justan felt as tired as if he had ran for days. The whole process had only taken mere moments, but it seemed like it had been hours.
Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) Page 3