"Yes, please, Novice Verdilan,” said Fernonia with a simper, but her eyes expressed the sarcasm almost missing from her voice.
Looking at Fernonia, Aetria certainly did not miss the Aggressor beauty's real intent. Fernonia always wanted to be the center of attention, and by placing Verdilan in that position, the sorceress had put him in conflict with Fernonia. Verdilan looked as if he wanted to drop off the back of the wagon and run away, but he continued.
"I think Sorceress Aetria's point is this. Taking Power ‘steam’ out of the grid occurs at the same speed as putting it in. If I take Power ‘water’ out, turning it into Power ‘steam’ in the process, then I can run into a serious problem. We all know even a very small amount of water makes a lot of steam. The speed at which water changes into water vapor is very slow under the condition we normally see it, like the dew on flower petals, or the water level in a cup slowly dropping. If you heat it up, it becomes steam. If you throw water into boiling hot oil, it still turns into steam, but quite violently. The difference is in the speed of transformation. If we can't control the transformation because it happens too fast, then you set yourself up for a grid burnout."
Looking around, Verdilan could see his fellow Novices understood the concept, but some were frowning. He continued, “All of us will be able to move Power in and out faster after using the techniques Sorceress Aetria will teach us. These are sound techniques. But the technique opens us to increased hazards, both in taking in Power and using it. There exists a danger of taking in Power too quickly. We call it source sickness. A source supplies Power constantly. We all know if we stand too close to a source, it affects our minds; it makes us act strangely.
"The cause is that the source can deliver Power to us at too high a speed if we stand too close, greater than we can accept. Now, Magi can stand a lot closer to a source than Novices can. By training we have been taught to know where our distance should be. We rarely get source sickness anymore. Our training should also protect us from delivering power too quickly. It appears to work that way at the training lodges.
"But the environment is different away from the lodges. Most of the cases of grid burnout that have occurred in the last few years are amongst Novice sorcerers who, although they have learned to control the level of their spells, may not have necessarily learned to control the intensity of them."
"That explains why the majority of the cases are within the Novice skill level, Verdilan, but not why Aggressors die,” Belanar said to Verdilan. “You have my undivided attention on this question."
"And mine,” Fernonia added. A chorus of affirmative noises arose from the left bench full of Aggressors.
"This area is not my strongest subject. Here is how I try to understand it,” offered Verdilan. “We are not sure how we conjure spells exactly. We know we use our minds to envision the spell we want, then turn that vision into reality by infusing Power. What kind of path we follow from our minds to the grid is not defined at all.
"But think about someone sleeping and having a dream. That dream is real to the person asleep. What is interesting is that the person's senses are still sending information to the brain. A smell, or a noise, a change in temperature get into the dream, guiding it sometimes, changing it. The pathway the brain uses to communicate with the body's senses is always there, never asleep. Here's where my illustration gets a little murky."
"Murkier,” Jalista chided him.
"As we build the spell in our minds, we are refining it by not only our imagination, but by our senses. Illusionists do this more than any other. They put in sound, color, and smell—they make the illusion come alive. This constant adjustment of the spell until it is cast, and during its release, has an unconscious part we don't really control.
"Since a path exists, and information is being exchanged, then as the spell is cast, Power comes back along that path. Under controlled conditions, we don't even sense it, except as a feeling of release. But if the spell is not under control, a too-rapid release of the spell sends a surge of Power back down the path, creating a Power backlash. Here is where the intensity of the spell comes into play."
Welendor broke in. “We were having better luck with buckets, Healer. I know my senses play into my spells. But I control that input."
"Yes and no, Welendor. In my example, the sleeping brain may be directing the dream, but the dream still responds to the real senses. Your dreaming brain has to change the dream to account for the sensing. If you are exposed to a cold draft, your skin feels that and tells your brain you are cold. The dream may not be of a cold environment, but your brain changes it so the cold makes sense. Am I making sense?"
"Not to me, but don't let me hold Tracilus back. He obviously has something intelligent to add,” Welendor said, looking at his bench partner waving his hand to get Verdilan's attention.
"Not just the intensity, Verdilan, but also the speed of the intensity. How fast you are trying to change the speed of the Power transformation. Aggressors must change the Power to the most pure form of energy—fire and lightning, for example. They have to pull Power out quickly, and change it very quickly into a destructive spell. Illusionists must also change the speed of intensity to give maximum reality to their illusions; like having trees sway in a breeze instead of sitting there without moving, therefore making their existence not very believable in a storm. Provisioners and Healers don't need to change the speed of intensity that much, theirs is a slower process.” Tracilus sat back, a smile of understanding on his face. His seatmates’ expressions did not exactly mirror his, but some did appear to understand what he had just said.
"Very well stated, Tracilus,” the Novice Healer said. “This is why we believe Aggressors and Illusionists have been the most affected. The backlash of Power down the unconscious path takes the form of the spell. For Aggressors, the results usually take the form of being hit by their own fireball or lightning bolt. For Illusionists, the effect seems to be an overriding of their mind's control and they pass out. Sometimes they go insane upon waking."
The Novices all looked at Aetria. She smiled. “I passed out. Fortunately for me, my spell caused the enemy to break and run, allowing our Guard to rescue me. As for insanity, you can be the judge of that."
Perhaps surprisingly, no Novice took the opportunity to direct a jibe at her. “Grid burnout is even more complicated than we have heard,” Aetria continued. “One characteristic of burnout is the total draining of Power from the sorcerer. It is as if the Power were sucked out too rapidly. The spell generated is of much greater strength than possible under normal conditions. This leads us to conclude that the sorcerer lost control of the process. Would anyone besides Tracilus like to hazard a guess why control is lost?"
"Fear,” Belanar's bass voice said. The suddenness of the response caused most of the hearers to jerk with reaction.
A few protests started, but died when Aetria said, “Correct. And anger, and despair, and elation, and any strong emotion you choose to say. We are trained in an environment that stresses the need for control, to evoke calmness, to center our minds on the spell. Our meditations are done to bring peace to our minds, to void ourselves of confusion and distraction. In battle, you have every form of distraction we are trying to avoid, both from the outside world and from within. When the war cries sound, your heart beats faster in response. You are intensely filled with whatever emotion is in you at the time. It could be excitement; it could be panic. You want to charge, or to flee.
"It is under these conditions you have to control a spell and make it work. Remember our saying, ‘I am, therefore I spell.’ Which are the calmest, most serene of our specialties? Jalista."
The young sorceress jumped once again at her name. Her answer was automatic. “Healers. Followed by Provisioners."
"And the most volatile, Fernonia?” Aetria cut in, looking at the beautiful Aggressor who wore a fierce smile on her face.
"Aggressors, of course,” she said hotly, “and proud of it."
"My
point is made.” Aetria waved off Verdilan, who started to say something. “Control, control, control. You will be casting spells under conditions that try the strongest of warriors, and you have to get them right. As you strive to increase your intensity, know that your very existence works against you. Your emotions have much greater effect with your spell use on the battlefield than you could ever have possibly guessed. You will be under great stress, both physically and mentally. Aggressors and Illusionists are very susceptible because of the Power they have to quickly mold and wield. Be very careful, my Novices and think control, control, control."
Glancing around at the somber faces, she decided to stop the wagon for a rest break and give her people a chance to think about what they had just heard. She caught Lieutenant Nemos’ attention with an arm wave and signaled the rest stop. As the wagons braked to a stop, the Novices quickly offloaded and stood around stretching, waiting while the Guard checked the immediate area for lurking enemies, before heading into the trees to take care of nature's call.
Aetria returned to the wagon train and walked to the second transport, thinking about having to face one more group of Novices. One more public exposure of her past failure to deal with. She would be facing a much more sympathetic crowd, and one not so attuned to the dangers of grid burnout, but putting her lack of control on display made her uncomfortable no matter who the audience was. As if to increase her own discomfiture, she began to worry about what would happen when the Recruit Company reached the army encampment.
"One thing at a time, Sorceress,” she whispered.
* * * *
Listening to Verdilan's explanation a second time was difficult, as her mind tended to drift off the conversation and back onto her own problems. The other Healers, Kendor, Carleena, and Dolma, had joined in the lecture and made it more of a group discussion. She had made her point early and pulled back, but the Healers wanted to hear all of the details of her case. She distracted them by asking if they knew the particulars of the two Adept Healers who had suffered grid burnout.
Carleena said she had some knowledge of the case, as the mind was her area of healing interest. Aetria encouraged her to continue.
"The Adept Healer who continued on to become a Mage was our Mentor, Mage Kelristo. He and his associate, Adept Ulana, had just been advanced to Adept and they were both eager to widen their study of the ‘unconscious paths’ we have talked about. To do so, they set about trying to deliberately start a grid burnout, but get control of the backlash before it caused a total Power release. They believed that if they could do so, they would finally understand what it was and determine a way to prevent it.
"It was decided Ulana would induce the grid burnout, while Kelristo monitored her and traced the beginning backlash. Their rapport was particularly good because they were also lovers and were intensely into sharing. They were starting to make serious progress in their study. Alas, one day, Ulana was unable to induce a start, and growing impatient, tried too hard. She suffered a full grid burnout, knocking herself unconscious. Kelristo experienced the same backlash and was also knocked unconscious."
"Mage Kelristo is well known to us all,” Novice Holendal said. “I would never have thought he had experienced a grid burnout. He is not in any way mentally deficient. In fact, after forty years, and as old as that would make him now, he is still the brightest star in all of Inhestia. Yet Sorceress Aetria said Ulana went insane. Why didn't he also go insane? And what happened to Adept Ulana, Sorceress?"
"I don't know why he didn't go insane, Holendal. Maybe Novice Carleena does?” Aetria looked at the young Healer.
Carleena glanced at her fellow Healers. Aetria had the impression Carleena was requesting, with her eyes, their permission to speak. Verdilan's slight nod confirmed her suspicion.
"We know Mage Kelristo did not release his Power, a true sign of a full grid burnout. If he had, Ulana and he would probably have been killed by his backlash—hers having knocked them both out and leaving their minds brutally open. Perhaps, in his monitoring trance, he only received a portion of the backlash and was spared the full effect that Ulana got.
"To answer your last question, Adept Ulana was locked away at Inhestia for several years. Mage Kelristo tried to help restore her mind, and she seemed to be healing, but somehow she started to blame Kelristo for the accident, and her love turned to hate. She became a different person. Mage Kelristo did not know just how different until she escaped her confinement. While locked away, Ulana befriended a young sorceress Aggressor trainee who was attending her, and through her, learned several spells a Healer would never attempt—killing spells, fire and lightning. When Ulana was ready to escape, she put the trainee into a healing trance and fled. The Guard was sent after her, and Ulana killed a dozen of them with fireballs when they caught up with her. By the time the survivors got back for help and set off again in pursuit, Ulana had escaped into the Hermanian mountains bordering our Lodge. She was never seen again."
Aetria watched the faces of her Novices during the telling of Ulana's fate. The shock and horror brought back the memory of her own reaction when she had heard the story from Mage Kelristo. He had related it to her during their first therapy session upon her return to Inhestia after her grid burnout incident. She had already told her mentor, Trelana, about being able to sense stored Power and had been severely taken to task for what could be viewed as aberrant Power behavior. Aetria had convinced Trelana that the effect was fading with time, but she had lied, for fear she would be dismissed from the ranks of sorcerers. She was very careful not to let Mage Kelristo know. Having heard the story from his own lips, a participant in the tale, she now understood why the Council was so sensitive to changes in behavior of sufferers from grid burnout, and why she was being watched so carefully.
These thoughts always made her uneasy, but now there was an edge to that feeling. With a shock, she realized she was sensing a Power source. Aetria dropped into a light trance and concentrated on the presence of the source. It was faint, off to the west of the caravan. Opening her eyes, she glanced quickly at the Novices, trying to find any indication of their awareness of the source.
Seeing none, she whispered to Verdilan to continue on with the discussion without her and walked carefully to the back of the wagon. She timed her leap from the moving wagon so she kept her footing when she landed and waited for the command wagon to catch up to her. Climbing aboard, she announced her presence to Crusher and entered the cabin.
CHAPTER 4
"Are you certain, Sorceress? I sense nothing."
Aetria put as much confidence into her voice as she could. “Yes, Sir! There is an exposed source off to the west of the caravan, at least a day's march away."
The disbelief in Crusher's eyes sparked anger in Aetria's. She clenched her teeth with frustration as Pleates turned toward the west, closing his eyes to help his concentration. Aetria wanted to shake him as hard she could and scream at him for not believing her. Instead, she stood quietly in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest, and breathed deeply, letting her breath out slowly, making no sound to disturb Crusher's sensing. When his eyes snapped open, she made an involuntary jump, just stifling the squeak that tried to escape through her lips.
"I still sense nothing. But I respect your abilities, Sorceress. Order a turn to the west."
"Not to be disrespectful, Commander, but why head for trouble? We are less than five days from the army's bivouac. We don't know what the source represents, but if it is Hermanian, then we could be asking for trouble."
"Thank you for your counsel. Turn the caravan to the west."
"Yes, Sir."
* * * *
Riding just ahead of the command wagon, Aetria felt her anxiety grow by the minute as the caravan inched its way westward through the hilly, heavily brush-covered terrain. The dispersed copses of trees that had been their constant companion since leaving Inhestia were joining together into dense patches of impenetrable woods. It felt as if the trees were beginnin
g to close in on them, and she started worrying about the presence of enemy troops in the forest. To her magical senses, the source had gone from a faint trace of Power to an increasingly strong signal. Ever present in her mind was the fact they had now closed the source by several miles more than necessary if Crusher had respected her skills. Every minute was less distance between them and the source.
She restrained herself from turning in her saddle to look once again at her commander riding up front with the driver. She had looked back so many times in the last hour that all she got for her efforts was a scowl from Crusher. When he finally spoke, the rush of relief almost made her faint.
"Stop the caravan, Sorceress. Start preparations to encamp for the night, then report back here with Verdilan and Meloses. Ask the Guard Commander to come see me immediately."
Aetria turned to acknowledge his order and found herself staring at his driver, who glanced backward into the command wagon and tilted his head in that direction. She wheeled about and rode to the van of the column where Lieutenant Nemos sat waiting for her orders. When she had finished giving them to him, he galloped back to the command wagon, dismounted, and knocked loudly at the entrance door. He disappeared inside a moment later.
The Novices had been watching this encounter with interest from their transports. As she rode up to them, they clamored to know what was going on.
Aetria dismounted and tied her horse to the lead transport wagon's tailgate. “Another lesson of war, Novices. You'll be told what you need to know when you need to know it. Until then, we are setting up camp early today. Novice Verdilan, Sorcerer Meloses, come with me to the command wagon."
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