Delminor's Trials

by Stephen J Wolf

“If you’re too hasty, then you’ll miss things. Now if I may… You’re going to consider this expanding into the shape of a sphere. When you cast the spell, throw it up and away from you. It’s important not to hold onto it for too long.”

  Rothra chanted the incantation. “Burrishorican frithecar wracken kaie.” The leaf sizzled and he launched it. With an explosive burst, the leaf fanned out into an expansive fireball, sparkling different colors and twinkling as it faded.

  “What did I just do?” he asked.

  “The leaf expanded, which you expected. The fire exploded, which you also probably expected. But the water contained the fire and wrapped it in on itself. The leaf that you used gives off certain colors when it burns, so you created a colorful spray of fire.”

  “How is that useful?”

  “It’s a staple of entertainment. Control the shape of the flames to wow an audience and you’ll rake in more coins than you can imagine.”

  He looked disappointed. “I thought it’d be better than that. Like an immolation spell.”

  Delminor shook his head. “No such luck.”

  Altran screamed suddenly and the two hurried over to him. His hands were cut in many places, blood everywhere. “What happened?” Delminor asked, setting healing magic upon the wounds.

  “I changed up the spell and it backfired.”

  “What were you trying to do?”

  He shrugged, his hands and body aching. “I thought if I made them sharper and linked them together, I could launch out a whole chain of daggers.”

  Delminor’s face lit red. “Is that what you both are here for? Violent uses of magic?”

  “How else are mages supposed to defend themselves against Kallisorian scum?” Rothra demanded.

  “If that’s all you’re here for, then I have no use for you. Are these the things you’ve been discussing with Gallena?”

  It took Altran a moment, but he apologized and he gave a glance to Rothra that bade him do the same.

  “We’ll do better.”

  Delminor stood and headed back home. “We’ll see how you fare tomorrow.”

  Chapter 57

  Wounds

  With the war raging to the east, more and more troops passed their way from the northern towns or from the battlefield. Essalia worked tirelessly with the wounded, pulling the healing energies and mingling them with the others.

  Delminor worked with her to heal a particularly injured mage. Her arm was severed and they would likely need to amputate it. But Essalia had an idea, taking a bit of tree bark and setting a makeshift cast. Using her magic, she fit the cast as perfectly as possible, the mage screaming in agony as the pressure increased.

  The healing jade was next. Delminor set it over the cast and he called to its power to draw the flesh together. The woman howled in pain, eventually passing out. But the healers continued their work.

  Essalia removed the cast when Delminor was finished and she spread a paste along the wound. It was a conglomeration of dirt, herbs, and a bit of felicius fur, for the cat-like creatures seemed impervious to pain. She then reapplied the cast and Delminor chanted the healing spell again.

  They were able to save the mage’s arm, though it would take her months before she could control her fingers.

  Delminor called for his apprentices to help with the influx of injured. They arrived but were squeamish at first.

  “Yes, Altran, hold his hand like that,” Essalia commanded. “Use that spell. Good. Do you feel the energy passing through? That’s your goal for healing.”

  Delminor was at the next table with a soldier whose leg was badly severed. He employed nature magic to set a splint and to promote growth while Rothra tended to a bucket, losing his lunch. They worked all day to stabilize the recent troop that had arrived.

  “I don’t understand,” Rothra said. “Who are they all?”

  “Wounded from the fighting, of course,” Delminor answered.

  “They’re in different types of armor.”

  “Some of them are Kallisorian.”

  Rothra banged his hand on the table. “We’re helping them?”

  Altran was just as incensed. “What kind of Hathren are you, helping the enemy?”

  Essalia interrupted. “We’re healers. We help the wounded. It’s that simple.”

  “But the enemy?”

  Her tone hardened. “The only enemies here are infection and pain. Delminor wouldn’t put you at risk if there was danger.”

  Delminor cleared his throat. “Take a moment and relate this situation to the game.”

  The boys groaned. Rothra made an attempt. “Balance is the key to winning Confluence, isn’t it?”

  “No way,” Altran interjected. “More power in one element and you win the game.”

  “Rothra, continue.”

  “Well, what he says is right; if you’re overpowered in one element, you can win.”

  Delminor shook his head. “Only if you’re lucky and don’t come across someone skilled in a power you can’t deflect.”

  “You need to know more than one element,” Altran guessed. “That will give you the power to defeat anything.”

  Rothra added, “But if you know fire magic and have no sense of water, then the water can snuff out the flames. It’s important to understand both sides.”

  “Ah,” Delminor said. “Now you’re getting somewhere.”

  “But how does that apply to what we’re doing here?”

  Altran bit his lip. “Hathrens on one side, Kallisorians on the other. If we get to know them somehow, we become stronger?”

  “It’s sort of like that. But what happens in Confluence when you face a foe?”

  “You battle.”

  “Who wins?”

  “It depends on who has the most power.”

  Rothra shook his head. “There’s still a bit of randomness, even if you’re ahead. And they may be able to block your attack.”

  “And what if there are more players?” Essalia asked. “Do you all play for yourselves?”

  “I do,” Altran said.

  “Well, we’ve only played with a few players. What do you mean?” Rothra asked.

  “With more players,” Essalia explained, “there are opportunities to work together, and that strengthens you too.”

  “So we should have a third kingdom playing?”

  “What if all who are healed become like a third kingdom?”

  Delminor looked at her, impressed. “A third kingdom that doesn’t oppose either of the other two.”

  “That would throw off the whole game,” Altran complained. “Who could win if everyone gets turned by healing magic?”

  Rothra’s jaw dropped open. “If everyone was healed, there wouldn’t be a game to play.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Delminor cleared his throat. “Rothra, maybe you can explain it to him? But come on, we have more work to do.”

  The boys headed off to tend to others with minor wounds, though they were tentative about assisting anyone with Kallisorian armor.

  Another soldier had internal damage and Essalia couldn’t stop the bleeding. She asked Delminor to stem the flow of blood using the water jade while she employed healing magic directly to the wound. Together, they were able to get the bleeding under control.

  As they worked with the various elements, they felt a deeper connection between them. The beast and nature jades were components of life and supported the direct efforts of the healing jade. Earth and water were matters of substance in the body and combining their powers allowed for focused healing.

  Little by little, their healing powers grew and they were each able to cure scrapes and cuts without any spell components or the jade itself. Eventually, they could do even more.

  * * *

  Work with the healing jade went faster when Donya joined them and soon she was in the workroom with them all the time, spells coming all the quicker. Delminor took the jade to bed with him at night, hoping to be inspired in his sleep.
>
  Eventually, Donya asked Essalia for help. She didn’t want to use magic herself, fearing it would only weaken her, but she asked Essalia to work with her daily, to imbue her body with strength in the hopes of keeping her next child.

  And it worked. The months passed and as the baby remained, Donya finally told Delminor.

  Chapter 58

  Unrest

  Delminor sat heavily in his chair, dropping a parchment to the floor. Donya picked it up and read it.

  Delminor,

  Your presence is demanded! You are a member of this Council and you will come. Your skills are required and you cannot refuse this request. I expect your next response to be a favorable one.

  Pyron

  “You have to go, don’t you?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “There’s still three months to go,” she said, rubbing her belly. “Essalia has everything under control here. It’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t see how I can risk it. What if I’m there longer than expected? They have to figure this out on their own. Isn’t that what we said? I’d stay out of the worst of it? I don’t want to get dragged in any more than I want to leave your side.”

  “It’s eating at you.”

  “It’ll be the end of my friendship with Pyron if I refuse.”

  “Then go.”

  He conceded and sent a terse reply.

  Pyron,

  Fine.

  —Delminor

  He stood outside Mage’s Rest, flexing his hands. He hadn’t had much access to the glass jade, as all of his recent research had been toward healing magic, but he was determined to make the journey as brief as possible. He needed earth magic for the first and last sections of the journey and glass magic for the center. He wasn’t taking the jades with him, so Essalia would have their support if Donya needed it. But he knew he had the power within him to complete the task.

  He used a variation of the fissure spell, creating a small rift at his feet that made him sink slightly. He then quickly transferred the shifted earth underneath and behind him, pushing his feet forward. He did it again and again until he got a feel for it, each attempt nudging him forward.

  With a wild sweep of his arms, he opened a long stretch ahead of him, loosening the soil and causing it to shift under and behind him, propelling himself forward with great speed. It was a dizzying experience and he fell over at the end of the first stretch.

  But it had worked. He could tolerate dizziness. He could not fight time. He stood again, bracing himself, and he cast the spell again and again, shifting forward over the surface of the land until he reached the beginning of the desert expanse.

  Earth magic would not work well with the sand, so he shifted his focus to glass energy. He felt the internal structure of the sand, so different than that of the soil. He struggled to find the words he needed to adapt the sliding spell, but his mind came through for him.

  Shifting along the sand was a harder task. Not only was the magic less familiar to him, but there was more friction between the sand particles. He couldn’t run the stretches as long, either, because the sand invariably slid back in like an hourglass. It almost wasn’t worth doing.

  But he didn’t give up. He was determined to shave time off his journey one way or another, and then inspiration struck. He changed his tactics completely, grabbing a fistful of sand and casting a condensing spell, turning it to a lumpy ball of glass.

  Smooth glass.

  He tried the spell again, this time over the area in front of him, then he ran and tried to slide. But his shoes caught the surface and he smacked down hard.

  He used his healing magic to repair the bruises and scrapes and then he tried again. He turned the area in front of him to glass and then he ran. This time, he dove to the ground, arms outstretched. His tunic slid on the surface and carried him further. He made some adjustment to his belongings to facilitate the sliding, and then he continued.

  The three-week journey took him nine days. He arrived at Magehaven scuffed and exhausted, unable to deal with Pyron’s surprise at his timely arrival.

  “There is unrest,” Pyron said after Delminor had a chance to settle in and recover. “We need your help to restore order.”

  “What’s the actual problem?”

  “We have more mages coming from the Magitorium, but also more mages pulled out by his majesty for the war. We’re losing control. They’re starting to band together.”

  “Arrange a meeting.”

  “You won’t like it.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The mages of the Magitorium were outraged by the restrictions placed upon them. Their home had become unsafe. It wasn’t their fault and all they wanted was a place to continue their work.

  “Haven’t you been given places to work?”

  “Yes,” Morella seethed, her face flushed. “But we can only work certain hours of the day, and spell supplies are limited to what we can barter with the Magehaveners.”

  “Isn’t that how it worked over at the Magitorium? Didn’t you barter with others for spell components?”

  She slammed her hand down. “It’s different! These mages won’t exchange their wares. All I need is a fair bit of firegnat serum and they won’t allow me to have it.”

  Kerrish, having refused her request, shouted. “You’ll bring the whole tower down! We’ll all be killed.”

  “Thank you, Master Kerrish,” Delminor said dismissively, earning an angry glare. “What do you need it for, if I may ask?”

  “The rooms are too confining and there needs to be more space.”

  Delminor sat forward in his seat. “You’re planning to blow open the walls?”

  Morella stammered. “Only a little.”

  “You see?” Kerrish said. “These people are mad.”

  “Are these the only chambers available?” Delminor asked.

  “We’ve had too many mages come through recently. The larger places are taken.”

  “Very well. Morella, you can’t have firegnat serum for this purpose—”

  “Ha!” Kerrish barked.

  “However,” Delminor cut over him. “We will send a delegation of earth mages to work with you to open the areas that can be opened. They will be able to ensure the integrity of the tower won’t be damaged. It may not be as wide open as you like, but it will be better.”

  “I can manage with that,” Morella said. “But if I could just get a little—”

  “Do you want to push it?”

  She coughed and smiled. “No. Thank you for your help.”

  “What’s next?”

  Two mages stepped up to the Council and Delminor heard a groan behind him. “I am Geros and this is my lover, Kellan.” He pointed to the man at his side, who smiled demurely. “We have been discriminated against, spoken to harshly, and threatened with violence just because we’re in love.”

  Delminor couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “What does it matter whom you love?”

  Geros melted. It was what he needed to hear. “Thank you for that. Not everyone is as accepting.”

  “I don’t see why. But as to the matter, are there any mages in particular who have caused you harm?”

  “We have been denied many things, and sometimes pushed to other tables in the eatery. We have been shunned by others, and we feel it is at the behest of someone here. I am reluctant to point out whom. I know what it is like to have fingers pointed. I merely want the behavior to stop.”

  Kerrish leaned forward. “Your ‘love’ is an abomination.”

  Delminor breathed deeply. “Kerrish, you’re involved in another issue today? Perhaps we should pause the proceedings and discuss matters?”

  “I’m not the only one who feels this way. They should be expunged to the Magitorium.”

  Kellan spoke. “We were there and we were welcomed. But things are too tumultuous. It’s dangerous there for other reasons.”

  “Have you made advances on those who are unwilling recipients?” Delminor a
sked.

  “No. We’ve been together for years. We’re not looking for thirds.”

  “Thirds?” Kerrish barked. “Do you hear this?”

  “Enough,” Delminor said. “I will look into matters and do my best to ensure a more accepting environment.”

  “We’re grateful, Master Delminor. We understand that your presence here is limited, but it’s comforting to know that at least someone on the Council respects us. Thank you.”

  Other complaints ensued and Delminor couldn’t believe he had been called away from home to engage in these discussions. He said as much to Pyron later.

  “You’re a calming voice that we need. Tensions have been on the rise. The Council is divided and only with all the masters here can we hope to hold on to peace.”

  “These are petty squabbles, Pyron. You know of Donya, and I can’t bear to be here and not with her.”

  He didn’t seem to care. “The war is fraying the nerves of everyone around. We receive weekly missives from the king demanding yet more mages. Now we have refugees from the Magitorium seeking placement on the Council. We can’t have that. It’s the one issue where we’re all agreed.”

  Delminor shook his head. “Not all. I think it would be wise for the minority to have a voice.”

  “But that would change everything! Delminor, don’t you see? The traditions we have here would be ruined.”

  “All I heard today were of people being treated badly by the mages who live here. It seems you could do with a change.”

  Pyron was affronted. “‘You’? Not ‘we’? You’re part of this place, Delminor. Your opinion carries weight. It is part of your position to—”

  “Not anymore,” he said suddenly.

  “W—What?”

  “I am resigning from the Council.”

  “You can’t!”

  “I must. I’m about to have a child after all these years. And I can’t be split between that and the childish banter here.”

  “Childish—” Pyron drew a breath to calm himself. “You’re just tired. Get some rest and we’ll discuss this further tomorrow.”

  But Delminor was firm in his decision and when he told the Council as much, there was confusion.