The Legend of the Seven Sages: The Blade of Origin

by B. A. Scott

  “I was chasing down a Fated One, you imbecile! You brute!” Vexen swore in her defense. Dareic drew his arrow back even further. Its tip trembled before Vexen’s eyes.

  “Chasing?” asked Dareic. “Or following? Those things were trying to rescue her, Ralian. They’ll keep coming back if they know she’s still alive.”

  “I speak the truth!” Vexen shouted.

  “Dareic, don’t,” Ralian pleaded. “Until there is indisputable evidence against her, we must let her live.”

  Dareic hesitated. But doing so proved both physically and mentally challenging. He wanted to kill the creature beneath him more than anything. And, as he’d been holding the tension of his bow amidst the falling rain for some time now, his grip began to slip.

  “Why should I let her live after what just happened?” Dareic asked. “Give me one good reason.”

  “She could be telling the truth,” Treäbu said, stepping forward. If it had been anyone else who’d spoken, Dareic probably would have dismissed the statement. But he bore a greater trust and respect for Treäbu than any other Skaelar. As such, Dareic took his words to heart.

  “Do you really think so?” Dareic asked.

  “I pray so,” Treäbu answered.

  Dareic looked into Vexen’s teary, sparkling blue eyes. The clamor of rain pounded in his ears. His arrow shuddered, and everyone around him stood silently, their eyes fixed on his trembling bow.

  “It seems your cunning tongue,” Dareic spoke softly, “has saved your life yet again.” He retracted his arrow, and everyone around him breathed a sigh of relief.

  “We shouldn’t idle,” Ralian urged. “Ambassador.”

  Dareic nodded, then leaned in close to Vexen’s ear.

  “You may have everyone else here fooled,” he whispered, “but I see through your lies. Soon—very soon—there’ll be no Sage to protect you.”

  Chapter 6: Knowledge

  After leaving the Fadenward Canyon, Gabrel and Kaven noticed the lush, green jungle around them thinning. Kade set a quick pace and all kept a cautious eye to their surroundings.

  “Kade, how much further ‘til Estimus?” Gabrel asked.

  “We should arrive tomorrow,” Kade answered.

  “And have a proper bed, for once,” added Ayden, brushing the dirt from her cloak.

  “Then we’re running out of time for you to teach us what you know,” Gabrel told Kade.

  “Well, how about a lesson?” Kade suggested. “We should make camp for the night anyway.”

  “Oh, thank heavens,” Ayden said, as though she’d been waiting hours to stop walking. She immediately took a seat on a fallen tree trunk, while the others made camp. “My feet are positively killing me.”

  Gabrel propped Genus Caladen’s shield against the trunk. As he regarded the jewel embedded in its backside, a thought came to him.

  “Kade, this stone in the back of my shield,” he said.

  “An Alluvian jewel,” said Kade as she placed a large concealment spell around the encampment.

  “Right, you told me it repels magic.”

  “Indeed I did.”

  “So,” Gabrel’s face contorted in confusion, “does that mean I can’t wield magic when I’m holding it? I mean, wouldn’t my shield immediately undo anything I cast?”

  “Oh, I see,” said Kade. “It is a simple matter, Gabrel. An Alluvian jewel protects its bearer. It repels magic cast against it, not from it.”

  “It can tell the difference?” Gabrel asked.

  “It is the same way Daro can wield magic, despite his mask bearing a jewel.”

  “How do you know Daro has a mask?” Kaven asked. Kade’s expression turned melancholy as she recalled memories of her grandfather fighting at Caleton.

  “Oh, I forgot,” Kaven said, sympathetic as if by reflex. “You were mind-marked. Sorry.”

  “These stones are very, very precious,” Kade said, moving past the memory. “A kingly treasure. You could mine an entire mountain and not unearth a single one.”

  “So, do I even need the shield, then? Like, couldn’t I just swallow the jewel?”

  “You could,” said Kade, “but that would be very unwise.”

  “Because I’d have to keep doing it?” Gabrel asked.

  “If ever you were injured, on the brink of death, a wielder would be unable to use Revival and heal you. That is, unless they cut the jewel from your innards first.”

  “Right,” said Gabrel.

  “Most often,” Kade continued, “they’re not used to protect a single individual—as this one does. I know Juris Mercer bound one within the door to his treasury, by means of a union spell. Even the dungeon in Allestron boasts a carefully-crafted cage to imprison malicious wielders—also by a union spell, an Alluvian jewel is imbued in its bars.”

  “A union spell,” said Gabrel. “Sounds difficult. Is that what you plan on teaching us tonight?”

  “It—might prove beyond your current expertise,” Kade responded delicately. “Let’s begin by exploring your fundamentals, shall we? I’ve noticed your brother taking a particular interest in levitations lately. How many stones are you lifting at once now, Kaven?”

  “Five,” Kaven said.

  “Impressive,” said Kade. “But tonight, we’ll take it one step further. I’m going to teach you how to perform a hover charm.”

  “A hover charm?” asked Gabrel. “How’s that different from levitating something?”

  Kade motioned with her hand to a nearby stone. It left the ground, and moved toward her, stopping just inches above her open palm.

  “Were I to release this levitation, what would happen?” she asked.

  “The stone would fall, of course,” said Kaven.

  “Right,” Kade nodded. “But were I to place a hover charm on it,” she closed her eyes, and cast the charm. Kaven watched as tiny particles of white light trickled upward from the Sage’s fingertips, and raced in streams toward the rock. They wrapped themselves around it, binding it tightly, then vanished in an instant. “I could release my magic altogether, and the stone would not move.”

  She demonstrated, releasing her magic.

  “That’s remarkable,” Gabrel exclaimed. He reached out to poke the hovering stone with his finger, and found he could not move it, even with a good deal of force. “Will it never move?” he asked.

  “The stone will remain stationary until the charm is broken,” said Kade. “This is called a fixed hover charm.”

  “You could make a set of stairs,” Kaven said as practical uses for the charm poured into his mind, “or a bridge of stones across a river.”

  “The possibilities are endless,” said Kade. “Now, try for yourselves. Lift a stone, and hold it still.” Both Gabrel and Kaven each levitated a stone as Kade instructed. “Good. Now, to cast a hover charm, command your stone to remain forever rooted in the air—unmoving, unyielding, and obstinate.”

  “That’s it?” Gabrel asked.

  “Yes,” said Kade. “But there can be no compromising in your command, Gabrel, or you will fail. Keep your thoughts pure, strong and focused. Command, do not ask.”

  “Alright,” Gabrel said.

  Kade and Ayden watched as the brothers closed their eyes and focused their thoughts. Both Gabrel and Kaven concentrated so hard, it looked as though their minds were in torment. After a few moments, particles of light streamed from their hands, and bound their stones in mid-air.

  “That was much easier than I expected,” Kaven said, opening his eyes. He and Gabrel released their magic, and observed their accomplishments.

  “Well done,” said Kade. She pushed down on Gabrel’s and Kaven’s stones, testing their resilience. “The stronger your command, the stronger the charm will be—and the harder it is to break. This might have only been your first attempt, but I dare say, these wouldn’t budge through a hurricane.”

  “How do you remove the charm then?” asked Kaven.

  “Will it away,” said Kade. “Tell the stone to fall.” She fill
ed herself with magic, and, with a single motioning of her hand, the stone before her glowed briefly, then dropped to the ground. Gabrel and Kaven performed the action themselves, and their rocks fell as well.

  “Congratulations,” Kade told them. “You’ve successfully cast and broken a fixed hover charm.”

  Kaven levitated the stone just above his hand once more. As he watched it, a thought came to him. “Can I levitate myself?” he asked.

  “You mean... fly?” asked Kade.

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  The Sage chuckled as though the idea was preposterous. But she quickly realized that Kaven was simply uneducated on the matter.

  “Not even Idonitus knew such magic,” she said. “With enough Gale, a wielder can essentially float above the ground, but one cannot levitate one’s self.”

  “But I can fill myself with the Celestial Blaze—and Fury,” Kaven argued. “Why not a levitation? Or a hover charm?”

  “Because levitations and hover charms are spells, Kaven. Not a power you acquired from a fountain. You could try levitating your boots or trousers and see how well that works. But the moment you lost focus or became distracted,” she snapped her fingers, “that’s you falling from the sky. Trust me, in the world of known magic today, it has never been mastered.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not possible,” Kaven said.

  “True,” Kade agreed. “But until you make so profound a discovery as flight, we’ll focus on more practical and manageable feats. Now, for your next lesson, something a bit more challenging,” she said, standing. “Draw your swords.”

  Gabrel and Kaven unsheathed their blades, and stood, curious as to what Kade would teach them next.

  “This is a very useful trick,” Kade began, drawing her own sword. “You might remember seeing my grandfather perform it in the junakothari.”

  “What’s that?” asked Gabrel.

  Kade summoned Fury, and channeled it through her blade, causing it to ignite in a frenzy of electricity. Gabrel and Kaven jumped backward a few steps, and even Ayden nearly toppled from her seat.

  “It’s alright,” Kade reassured them all.

  “Blimey!” Kaven gasped. “Does that hurt you!?”

  “No,” said Kade, “but it’d fry you like an egg.” She then released her magic, subduing the bolts of lightning upon her sword.

  “Comforting,” said Gabrel. “How exactly did you do that?”

  “First,” said Kade, “summon your power. As both of you have sipped from the Avenflame and the Fountain of Evindar, you can choose between the Celestial Blaze and Fury.”

  “I don’t think I want to summon Fury with all of you standing so close,” Kaven spoke quickly.

  “Nor I,” Gabrel agreed.

  “Very well then,” said Kade.

  The brothers filled themselves with magic, and embraced the power of the Celestial Blaze. It felt wonderful, Kaven thought. Almost euphoric. Divine, even, and it set upon his mind an incredible peace.

  “Now,” Kade continued, “channel it from your body, into your sword. Do not see the weapon in your hand as an object, but rather, as an extension of yourself.”

  “But it’s not a part of me,” said Gabrel. “It’s a hunk of metal.”

  “For this to work, Gabrel, you must alter your perception,” said Kade.

  Gabrel nodded. He knew that Kade was wise and knowledgeable, but she seemed to be asking the impossible.

  Suddenly, Kaven’s sword ignited in the Celestial Blaze all the way from the pommel to the tip of the blade. It glowed pure white, and easily illuminated the entire campsite.

  “Well shit,” said Gabrel. “I guess it’s not impossible after all.”

  “I’m—” Kade tried to speak, but her eyes revealed how astounded she was that Kaven had already performed the magic successfully. “I’m extremely impressed, Kaven.”

  “What do I do now?” Kaven asked.

  “Does anyone else think that light could attract unwanted visitors?” Gabrel asked. “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.”

  “You need to learn,” said Kade. “And I already placed a formidable concealment spell over the camp. Kaven, try casting the Celestial Blaze from your sword.”

  “How do I do that?” asked Kaven. Kade filled her sword with the Celestial Blaze as well, and joined him by his side.

  “Just as you would cast it from your hand,” she instructed.

  “Hey, what about me?” Gabrel asked. “I’m not there yet.”

  “Keep practicing,” Kade told him, then quickly returned her attention to Kaven. She moved her glowing sword through the air. Kaven tried as best as he could to copy Kade’s motion. As their swords moved, they left a trail of ethereal light behind them.

  “It’s beautiful,” said the Sage. But not a moment later, she swiped her blade downward toward a distant tree. The Celestial Blaze raced from her sword in a glowing crescent, and disappeared into the forest.

  Kaven copied her action exactly, and cast his own crescent of magic.

  “You’re a prodigy!” Kade said excitedly. “I can’t believe it! It took me nearly a week to do what you’ve just done!”

  “Hey, I’m still learning too,” Gabrel said, waving his sword above his head. “I think I could use a little more help over here.”

  “I’ve told you everything you need to know, Gabrel,” Kade said. “Your own mind is all that’s limiting you now.”

  “I’m trying!” said Gabrel, then attempted once more to fill his blade with magic. The Celestial Blade radiated from his clenched fist, but his sword remained unaffected. “Well, at least it’s nice to know it took you a while too,” he told Kade.

  “If you’d like,” Kade said, “you could try with a branch or a rock. Or a shield, even. This magic is not limited to merely swords and daggers.”

  “I don’t think it would matter,” Gabrel responded. “I just can’t see it as being a part of me. It’s a ruddy sword, and nothing more.”

  “It’s a tricky thing to master. How about we move on to something else, and you can practice that later?” Kade suggested.

  “If you think it’s best,” Gabrel said.

  “Frustration will only make it more difficult,” Kade told him. “Let’s explore something you’re already familiar with.”

  “Such as?”

  “Fury. You’ve mastered casting it from palm and sky, but there’s so much more you can do. Stand back, if you will.” Gabrel, Kaven and Ayden gave Kade a safe distance. “Further,” Kade said, and the others took a few more steps back.

  Gabrel watched as Kade filled herself with magic, and let Fury consume her. Traces of lightning danced upon her skin as though her whole body was electrified. It then expanded beyond her, creating a sort of electric cloud.

  Fearful, everyone stepped back even more before Kade released her magic.

  “Fury can protect you,” she said. “Were I surrounded by enemies, I could have sent an explosion of it from my body.”

  “But only if no one you want to live is around you, right?” asked Gabrel.

  “Yes,” said Kade. “This defense is far more difficult to control. However, Kaven, if you please,” she removed one of her gloves, and motioned for him to come to her. “A person can withstand a wielder’s Fury if they are connected to them before the power is unleashed.”

  “Huh?” Gabrel asked.

  “Please, remove your glove,” Kade instructed. When Kaven’s hand was bare, Kade offered her own.

  The simple gestural request stirred up complicated emotions in Kaven’s heart. For a moment, he battled with old memories, but cast them aside for the sake of the lesson. He took Kade’s hand, and she grasped him firmly.

  “Do not fill yourself with magic,” she told him. “In this moment, pretend you are a common man, not a wielder.” She then sent Fury from her hand into Kaven. Instantly, his hand tightened, and he felt as though it was eternally bonded with Kade’s. He felt Fury inside him much differently than when he would summon it him
self. It energized him, buzzing his bones.

  “Fury moves much differently than any other power,” Kade said. “It can be passed. And even more remarkable, wielded by those connected.” Kaven reached for the sky and conjured a ball of fury in his palm. When he was finished, Kade released her magic, and Kaven’s hand.

  “Much like how you filled your sword with magic, such is how this technique is performed. Imagine an army of interconnected soldiers, channeling a Sage’s power.”

  “That’s a nifty trick,” Kaven said.

  “Yeah,” said Gabrel, “but I haven’t gotten the whole fill-something-with-magic thing down yet. That feels a bit advanced for me.”

  “Then how about this,” Kade said. “You cast quite easily from your hand. But this limits you—becomes your crutch. It feels the easiest, because we use our hands to express, to grasp, feel, push and pull. Try casting the Celestial Blaze not from your palm, but from each individual fingertip.”

  Gabrel reached toward the encampment’s perimeter and sent a beam of the Celestial Blaze into the trees. He concentrated, directing the flow of energy within him, letting it race through each of his fingers. The beam separated, became five, splitting across the camp.

  “Well there’s something I can do,” he said, once he’d finished. “If that was Fury, I could take out a whole patrol of demons in one blow.”

  “But you’re still using your hand,” said Kade. “There’s no reason you couldn’t cast Fury from your toes, Gabrel. From your mouth.”

  “From your ass,” Kaven added.

  Kade paused, suppressing a chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”

  “I think I’d need a few mugs of ale first,” Gabrel responded.

  “Dareic would be up for it. ’Hey guys!’” Kaven mocked Dareic’s voice, “Watch me shoot lightning out of my ass!”

  Everyone but Ayden laughed, finding the conversation too crass for her tastes.

  “Anyway,” Kade attempted to redirect the brothers’ attention back to the lesson. “With all it can do, you must always remember how dangerous Fury is. It can stop a beating heart in a flash. But,” she paused, alluding to the importance of her next statement, “it can also start one. A teaching from the Goddesses to some of the earliest wielders—using this power to save a life.”