The Magic, Warped (The MagicWarper Trilogy Book 1)

by Rick Field

  Liane could see magic jump from the older girl to the page, and the runes vanished from the page. However, they only vanished to her eyes; her other senses showed the runes still quite clearly there, twinkling in beautiful whitish colors, as if winking at her in a shared secret.

  Above the table, a ball of light three times the size of the original spell had appeared; the color a murky red.

  “Oh, wow,” Liane muttered.

  “Runes are quite versatile, Young Lady,” Mariam repeated her earlier statement. “However, as you can see, they are slow in use: you need to write them down, you need to know the runic phrase, and you need to modify the correct runes to trigger the needed effects.” Lifting her hand, the runes became visible once more as the older girl stopped feeding them magic.

  “That's incredible, My Lady,” Liane whispered.

  Mariam was silent for a few seconds. “Yet again I question myself for not taking an Assistant. I find myself quite enjoying the role of teacher.” She got up. “I will retrieve you a new book, Young Lady. After that, I must send you on your way, as I have quite a few more hours of work ahead of me, and you need your sleep.”

  Liane just nodded as her teacher vanished between the stacks of books.

  Not five minutes later, Liane had in her possession a brand new book on easy reading and writing exercises, and the girl got up to leave. Just as she was about to say goodbye to the Prime Student, she remembered something she had been meaning to ask.

  “My Lady, may I ask one more question?”

  The older girl looked up from her work. “You may, Young Lady,” she replied, obviously a little curious.

  “Are we allowed to leave the Academy, My Lady? I would like to visit the orphanage,” she asked, sounding quite nervous about the answer.

  “I do not know how things were at the orphanage, Young Lady,” Mariam answered, leaning back in her chair. “At the Academy, however, there are no rules about leaving. As we are all Nobles, very little restrictions can be placed upon us. We are obligated to be in class unless otherwise indisposed, but other than that, there are no rules forcing you to stay here. You are, however, very young. It might be a good idea to have companionship. If you do not mind waiting until the weekend, I would be able to accompany you on your visit.”

  Liane's face lit up. “Thank you, My Lady!”

  “You're welcome, Young Lady. Now, please excuse me, for I have a lot of work still to do.”

  “Thank you for your help, My Lady. Good evening,” Liane said, turning to leave.

  “Good evening, Young Lady,” Mariam said, already back at work.

  *****

  The weekend was there faster than Liane had thought, and soon she was walking the streets of the capital, half a pace behind Mariam's right shoulder. The Prime Student had told her what Decorum demanded, and so she stayed in position as well as she could, next to, and half a step behind, Mariam's right shoulder.

  When they approached the orphanage, Liane was about to circle around and enter through the back door as she had done a thousand times before. She twitched back in position when she was reminded that she was here with Mariam, and she was no longer in its care. Together, they approached the front door, where Mariam knocked.

  The Caretaker opened the door in very little time. “My Ladies,” the woman said, curtsying deeply. “How may I be of assistance?” she asked of Mariam.

  “May we enter, Caretaker?” Mariam asked in a cool tone that Liane hadn't heard used before. It spoke both of superiority and direction. Rather than the question that was asked, the phrase sounded like an order.

  “O-of course, My Ladies!” the caretaker said, stepping aside. “Please forgive me.”

  “It is of no concern, Caretaker,” the Prime Student spoke as she entered the building first, Liane two steps behind her. “I have here a companion who wished to visit,” she said once they were inside and the door closed.

  Liane smiled at the caretaker, who merely bowed her head. “How may we be of service, My Lady?” the elder woman asked.

  The eight-year-old had never heard the caretaker sound like this before, and she blinked. Why had she come?”

  “I just wanted to see everyone again, Caretaker,” Liane said, almost addressing the woman as 'My Lady', so used had she become to the new modes of address she had learned. “How are they?”

  “They are fine, My Lady,” the caretaker said, keeping her head bowed and her voice low. “Thank you for your consideration.”

  Liane frowned at that. She had just asked how everyone was! Why was the caretaker acting so strange?

  The back door banged open. “We've caught fish!” Yari shouted as the entire troupe of orphans trudged in, stopping immediately upon seeing the caretaker with bowed head, and the two Noblewomen present.

  “Yari!” Liane shouted, glad to see her friend. “Everyone!”

  “Liane?” Yari asked, for a moment looking glad to see her, too. Then he looked her up and down, and frowned. “Whot'cha come back here for?” he asked angrily.

  “Whot?” Liane asked, slipping back into the mode of speech she had known for years. “I got some good luck, and can't share with my friends? We're friends, aren't we?”

  “Ya know th' rules, if you g't out, don't come back. It just rubs our faces in it,” Yari said, crossing his arms and turning his back. The others glared mildly at her. Even four-year-old Inai, who she had carried on her back so many times.

  “Yari!” the caretaker shouted. “Don't insult the Noble Ladies!”

  Liane stepped up to Yari, ignoring the caretaker's words. They didn't sting nearly as bad as her friends' reactions had. “I just wanted to tell you about my good fortune,” she said, feeling both anger and hopelessness at the reaction. Something ethereal stirred in her chest.

  “An' ya didna think about us, did you?” Yari shouted, turning around to shout in her face. “Did ya think about how we'd feel? You're all noblewoman now, with y'r fancy clothes, and lots of food and y'r money and everything! But we have to stay here, eat gruel and sleep under blankets that are too cold for the winter! We don't have anything! It's why the rules are there, Liane! Y'r just rubbing our faces in y'r good fortune!”

  “Yari!” the caretaker yelled, but Liane hardly heard her voice. The ethereal feeling in her chest was deepening, pushing and straining deep within her. Dimly, she became aware of a reddish tint to everything she saw.

  “My Lady,” Mariam spoke, placing one hand on Liane's shoulder. “May I ask you to put your magic away? It is a display I have not yet seen before, however, it does not become a Noble to show this much emotion when out in public. I would also like to remind you of the Decorum. Please do not engage in such discourse with Commoners. It is unbecoming.”

  Yari flinched, and drew pale when he realized that the girl he had been arguing with was not his friend Liane, but the Noble Liane, and that he could be severely punished for his outburst.

  Liane's body was trembling underneath Mariam's hand, but the Prime Student's calm voice knifed through her anger. Her magic subsided as she regained her calm. “My apologies for the display, My Lady,” Liane whispered to Mariam, bowing her head before realizing she wasn't supposed to. “I've made a mistake. I shouldn't have come here.”

  Mariam nodded once, accepting both the explanation and the apology. “I have to agree, Young Lady. Shall we return to the Academy? I believe I have an excellent piece of theory on chants that I think you will find interesting.”

  The last of the stress drained out of Liane. She had just lost everything that she had known – her home at the orphanage, the caretaker who had been a mother, and the other orphans who had been more brothers and sisters than friends. But at least the Lady Mariam still wanted to be near her. “Thank you, My Lady. I think we should.”

  Mariam gave a sharp nod, looked at the Caretaker and the other orphans, then just turned to leave. Liane gave one last, sad look at the people she had known her entire life, before turning to walk away herself. Once they had lef
t the orphanage, Liane bit her bottom lip, realizing this was goodbye. She would never come back here again. She had no need to.

  And so Liane's days at the Academy went. In the morning, she learned to read and write, she learned about politics, she learned history, and she learned Decorum. In the afternoons, the Lords and Ladies that taught at the Academy tried to help her with her magic, to stabilize it, and to learn about it.

  And for that first year, in the evenings, the Lady Mariam taught her theories about magic that the teachers didn't teach her due to the Rules of Equality.

  But even with all the fun Liane had learning, no matter how good the teachers were, no matter how patient, there was one thing that kept her awake at night.

  For Liane failed, constantly and consistently, to cast a single spell.

  Chapter Two

  The magic felt calm, at rest, as flat as flat could be. Liane preferred it that way, resting in a state of earth. At least that way, it only influenced her into calmness. She much preferred this state of her magic. Faintly, she was aware of herself drawing a slow breath.

  Bundling her insecurities and negative emotions into the breath of air, she slowly exhaled, feeling her body sink deeper into a state of relaxation. Before her mind's eye, her magic remained docile.

  She drew in another breath.

  An hour later, Liane slowly opened her eyes, and let out the last breath of her meditation.

  “You have done well, Young Lady,” the strangely accented voice of Master Chuang spoke. A foreigner, Master Chuang came from beyond the Great Barrier that protected the island nation of Kiria. Hailing from a strange and far away land called China, the man was thin and frail, but his mind and his magic were of a power and a level of control that few could match.

  It was thanks to his foreign expertise that he had been helping Liane for the last two years, helping her balance her mind and her magic, helping her tame the raging torrent that bubbled deep within her, helping her gain control.

  The journey had been hard, and Liane still was not completely sure if it had been successful. Even though she felt more in control over her magic than she had ever felt in the previous two years, she still could not get it to cast regular spells.

  When she had first come to the Academy, she had been hopeful of the future. But, as time progressed, and tests were done, it had become apparent that Liane's magic had been damaged to the point where total recovery was no longer possible. It had not taken long before the Lords and Ladies at the Academy found out that Liane was unable to cast ordinary spells.

  More tests and trials were the result, and Master Chuang had been asked to assist her in gaining control. Still, it was not enough. It was as if her magic was unlike the magic of everybody else – unique, different, strange. Regular spells would not work for her, and it took a month for the greatest spellcrafter at the Academy to pinpoint what needed to be done for Liane to be able to cast magic.

  Master Chuang stood up from where they had been meditating. “How does your magic feel, Young Lady?”

  “It feels like earth now, Master Chuang,” Liane replied, addressing him as he had asked to be addressed. It felt strange to her now, calling someone by name and without the usual moniker of 'Lord' or 'Lady'.

  “Good, good,” the man said. “Please keep up this exercise, Young Lady. Your magic and your emotions are tied in a circle – your emotions will influence your magic, and your magic will influence your emotions. The more volatile your emotions, the more volatile your magic – and the harder they both are to control.”

  Liane nodded politely. She had heard this before.

  “This was to be our last lesson, Young Lady,” Master Chuang said. “Today, I move back to my homeland. I have remained as long as I did solely for your benefit. Today, you are ready to take the next step on your own. Remember the lessons imparted to you, and although the path before you is hard, you will succeed.”

  Liane bowed deeply, in the custom of Master Chuang's homeland of China. “Thank you, Master Chuang.”

  He dipped his head. “It was my honor teaching you, Young Lady.”

  She thanked him once more, and left the meditation room, carefully navigating around a dozen other meditating people, and exited the room, making her way to the chambers that had been her home for the last two years. Remembering one of the chants the Lady Mariam had taught her in her first year at the Academy, Liane started singing. Careful not to push any magic to the magical words, she softly sang the chant as if it were an ordinary song, feeling the monotone repetitiveness maintain her calm mood.

  She packed her few belongings, and dressed in the bright white robes of an Academy Initiate. No longer a mere Adept, she would be an Initiate in a few hours. Drawing a deep breath, she looked out the window.

  No regular spell would work for her. The path before her would be hard, just as Master Chuang had told her. It had taken a month for the best spellcrafter at the Academy to figure out what she needed.

  Each and every spell she wanted to use – she would need to write herself. Her magic was unstable, and she needed major corrections to it before it would function. Glancing at her hands, she looked at the gloves she was wearing. Her fingers were left free, but her hands themselves were encased in the softest leather, with large crystals embedded over her knuckles.

  They helped with the focus of her magic. The focus gloves were the first part of what she needed to make spells work.

  The second part needed was the spell itself – each and every spell would need to be rewritten for her, to adapt to her unique style of magic.

  And because of that problem, the Rules of Equality had been suspended in her case. The best teachers at the Academy had donated their time – spellcrafters, Runic Masters, Elemental Specialists, and others. They had taught her how to build spells, how to look at a spell, disassemble it, and rewrite it to include the variances needed for her magic to work.

  Of course... that had all been theoretical. After all, it was because of casting magic that she was in this predicament, and nobody wanted to take the chance of her becoming completely magically crippled by having her use her magic before she was ready to do so.

  Even though her teachers had told her that her work was exemplary, Liane still felt the doubt flutter in her stomach. Singing the chant a little louder, Liane tried to drown out her nerves with the sound.

  She had never actually built a spell and executed it. It should work – but that doesn't mean that it would. And, above all else, it took her ten to fifteen minutes to build a new spell from a regular, working example. Time that would place her firmly behind her classmates in a classroom setting. She would never be able to cast magic spells from a book without adapting them first.

  She only hoped that she would get better at it as she did it more.

  And, thankfully, other types of magic were not affected. Rune Magic and Ritualistic Magic, both using external sources of magic rather than her internal reserves, should work perfect for her. She only hoped that it would be so. She had enough trouble with regular spells. She didn't think she'd be able to adapt entire rituals. Chants, too, with their longer and repetitive incantations creating additional control and power, should be within her grasp.

  Pushing away from the window, Liane turned to the door. Her belongings would be moved later, from the visitor's quarters to a student room. For now, she needed a good walk to calm her nerves. Humming the chant under her breath, she left the Academy.

  Ten minutes later, she drew a deep breath in through her nose, smelling the rich sensations of the market. Still humming quietly, she stepped forward and entered the bustle of the commercial area.

  A goose girl, perhaps a few years older than Liane and bringing her animals to market, threw her a surprised glance, then hurriedly bowed her head and gave her two outermost geese a sharp jolt, nudging them out of Liane's way. The animals gave a startled quack, but went as the goose girl wanted them to. As the young Noble strode past, she nodded to the goose girl, who almost sq
ueaked at the unexpected gesture.

  Having become used to drawing surprised reactions from Commoners, Liane walked further, all thoughts of the goose girl leaving her mind almost immediately. A driver scurried his horse and cart out of her way as she approached, and him, too, she graced with a small bow of her head.

  Like the goose girl before him, he startled. Stopping, Liane looked around, halting her ceaseless humming of the chant. She loved the hustle and bustle of the market, the smells and sights and sounds of it. It reminded her of her past, and as always, she became aware of the fact that she was no longer one of them now. She was a Noble, required to maintain Decorum and not show emotion. Sometimes she missed the easier life of an orphan, but then remembered the hunger and hardships that came with it, and soon changed her mind once more.

  The driver, too, was soon forgotten when Liane reached the first of the stalls. Letting her feet take over the navigation, she focused instead on the different wares for sale, all the time feeling completely at ease – even if she were only ten, and her only defense was based on the white robes she wore, nobody would dare do anything to harm a Noble.

  The courts were not lenient on Commoners who dared harm a Noble – and convicted themselves under Truth Serum.

  She had no interest in food, and as such, she barely gave the butcher's stall and the baker's stall a second glance. After two years at the Academy, she had become used to fine food. The tailor's stall held some very nice common vestments. Aware that only a few years ago she would have been daydreaming at the sight of the clothing on display, she stopped and reminisced for a few seconds.

  She smiled faintly, then turned to walk on. She was a Noble now. She could never go back to where she had been. That disastrous meeting at the orphanage had convinced her of that. Her old friends, people she had known all of their lives, had suddenly become jealous of her. She no longer missed them. She had been forced to harden her heart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.