Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

Benjamin set down his hammer and inspected the iron. He glanced at the forge, then, instead of walking over to it, he raised his right hand. His eyes turned black, and a fireball the size of an apple appeared, floating a few inches above his hand. He held the fireball to the iron.

  “You know, if you worked as hard at learning my other lessons as you do at the sword, you’d be quite the magician by now.”

  Abbey sighed. This again. He was always trying to get her to practice his form of magic. “If it comes to a fight, I prefer a sword.”

  It wasn’t that she couldn’t do any magic. She could create a fireball, though she couldn’t control it with the finesse her father was demonstrating now. She could move objects with her magic. She could even make her sword glow with a terrifying green flame if she really concentrated. But she didn’t enjoy the way it made her feel. It drained her somehow.

  But that wasn’t the primary reason she didn’t focus on developing her magic skills.

  She was enough of an outsider already. Her father’s form of physical magic was so different than the storm magic used here in Holdgate. The last thing she wanted was another thing to make her different.

  She respected her father’s skill. He’d trained under some of the best magicians in the world at the Academy in Arcadia, and the things he could do left her in awe, even after growing up with him. But admiration was quite different from the dedication it would take to master those skills herself.

  Benjamin held the fireball in his left hand and picked up the hammer with his right. As the fire heated the iron, he began working it with the hammer. He spoke over the clang of the metal. “Swordplay and magic aren’t that different.”

  Abbey gathered another armload of helmets and headed toward the cart. “Really? You could have fooled me. One of those things lets me beat up smug bullies, and the other turns my eyeballs black.”

  “They both require focus. They both channel your anger into physical force.” He set the hammer down and dispelled the fireball. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bit of magic behind some of those sword strikes at the end of the fight.”

  She paused. “Hang on, are you accusing me of cheating?”

  “Not at all. When you know how to use magic, sometimes it comes out in unexpected ways. It was the same with your mother. She didn’t have any formal training, just a few tricks her uncle showed her, yet her magic manifested itself when she didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  Abbey felt her cheeks growing hot. “Olaf has the skill of a boar. If you’re saying I couldn’t beat that idiot without magic—”

  “I’m not. I’m just saying that he’s much stronger than you, and you were batting his sword away like he was a child at the end there.” He gave her a serious look. “Abbey, magic is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s part of you, same as your skill with a sword. If a bit of it comes out in a fight, that’s not cheating. It’s using every tool you have to win.”

  She started toward the cart again. “I still say I didn’t use magic. I could have beaten Olaf with one hand, let alone without magic.

  “Fine,” her father said with a smile. “What do I know? I’m just a graduate of the Academy in Arcadia. Chancellor Adrien himself once complimented my magitech work. But I’m sure you know better.”

  “Trust me, Dad, around here that isn’t something to brag about.”

  Abbey pushed the cart through the streets of Holdgate. Every bump in the road made the helmets loudly clank together, and there were plenty of bumps. It felt good to be out of the shop. The sun shone brightly in the clear sky, warming her as she walked. It was summer, which in Holdgate meant long days. Abbey tried to cherish these times of abundant sunlight. Things would be different in the winter, when the sun only showed itself for a few short hours, and even that did little to stave off the bitter cold.

  The streets were crowded, and Abbey had to weave her cart around the people milling about. A fair number of the stormships were in the harbor, as were many of the hunters and fishermen who rarely came to the city. They were all there for the festival.

  Still, Abbey kept moving. Captain Stephen was waiting for these helmets, and in Holdgate, it was never a good idea to keep a Storm Captain waiting.

  Sick of the crowd in the street, Abbey cut down an alley. She headed toward the beach, hoping to find more space to guide her cart down under the docks where there would be fewer tourists. From there, it would be a straight shot to Captain Stephen’s ship.

  She pushed her cart along the beach. The rocky ground was even worse here, and she had to keep a firm grip on her cart to keep it from toppling over. But it was still worth it to get away from the crowd. Some might have said it wasn’t a good idea for a young woman to be walking alone under the shadowy docks, especially on a festival day, but Abbey had her sword on her hip. She wasn’t worried. If someone wanted trouble, she’d be more than happy to give it to them.

  The sea seemed especially rough this afternoon, especially for such a day when the wind was so calm. She looked out at the choppy water… and she saw something. No, not something. Someone.

  She let go of her cart and walked toward the water, squinting to be sure she saw correctly. After a moment, she was sure. It was a man. He was a good one hundred and fifty yards from shore.

  It wasn’t uncommon to see someone swimming in the ocean, even though the water was freezing year around. Holdgatesmen were always challenging each other to demonstrations of manliness, and that often included ill-advised swims. But this man appeared to be struggling. He wasn’t making much progress. If anything, he appeared to be losing ground.

  Abbey watched for a long moment as the man struggled. He dipped under the water, then his head reappeared. He was above water for only a moment before he went under again, this time for longer than before.

  He’s not going to make it, Abbey realized. She had to do something.

  She warily glanced at the choppy water. She was a good swimmer, but if she tried to swim out there, all she’d do was end up drowning them both. But there was no way she was letting this guy drown, either. As much as she didn’t want to, she had to use another way to save him.

  Remembering what her father had taught her, she moved her hands in a complicated pattern and concentrated her energy on the drowning man. Her eyes turned black, and the magic began to flow out of her.

  Moving objects with her mind didn’t come easily to her, and this man was so far away. Still, she didn’t let doubt creep in. She focused on the man and drawing him to her. She didn’t need the magic to carry him completely; she just needed to give him enough of a boost that he wouldn’t drown.

  His head appeared above water again, and the man began moving toward shore. He swam through the water, each stroke taking him much farther than it should have. It was as if Abbey had him on a line and was reeling him toward the shore with her magic.

  The man cut through the choppy waves, and in only a few minutes, he was dragging himself up onto the shore. Abbey recognized him—it was Dustin.

  When she was a child, most of the other kids had shunned her. No one wanted to play with the weird Arcadian kid who always smelled like the blacksmith shop, a distinctive combination of coal smoke and burnt honey—a product of the beeswax her father applied to his metalwork. Dustin had been the rare exception. They’d spent long hours running through the streets together, getting into all sorts of trouble. For four years, Dustin had been a fixture in her father’s shop, stopping by nearly every day to play with Abbey.

  All that had changed when he got accepted as an apprentice Storm Caller. For the first couple years, he’d simply been too busy to hang out with her. But somewhere along the way, he’d seemingly realized it wasn’t a good idea for a Storm Caller to socialize with an outsider like Abbey. The last couple times she’d seen him in the street, he hadn’t even returned her nod of greeting. Some friend.

  Abbey walked to the edge of the water and held out her hand. “You all right?”

  Dustin tried to stand a
nd stumbled forward.

  Abbey realized she was still pulling him forward with her magic. The poor guy looked terribly confused. He looked up at Abbey, and his face went pale as he saw her eyes. He’d spent enough time in Benjamin’s shop to know that black eyes meant magic.

  “What did you do?” There was anger in his voice.

  She stopped pulling him forward, and her eyes returned to normal. “Um, I saved your damned life. Maybe the phrase you’re looking for is thank you?”

  “Get out of here before someone sees you,” he hissed. “You’ll ruin everything!”

  She was stunned. It’s not like she’d been expecting a hug or anything, but a little gratitude would have been nice. She was half tempted to use her magic to push him back out to sea.

  His eyes softened a little before he spoke again. “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick, but seriously. You have to go.”

  He was looking past her at something down the beach. She followed his gaze and saw a group of men approaching. She didn’t recognize all of them, but there were a few she knew all too well. Dustin’s master, Harald, was among them. These men were Storm Callers.

  Abbey realized what this was—it was Dustin’s Testing.

  They were standing in the shadows under a dock, so there was a chance the men hadn’t spotted her yet. She glanced back to Dustin. He was already on his feet, running toward them.

  Abbey’s eyes turned black again, and she reached out with one more bit of magic.

  Dustin stumbled and fell forward, landing on his face in the sand in full sight of the Storm Callers.

  “Serves you right, asshole.” Abbey stifled a chuckle as she went back to her cart.

  4

  Dustin stood alone outside the Magistrate’s office. He gazed out the window at the sea. They were on the fourth level, and he had an excellent view of the breaks. Testing Rock was under water now, but he fixed his eyes on the spot where he knew it was submerged.

  Damn that girl.

  If Abbey hadn’t interfered, he would have made it back to shore. He knew he would have. Granted, he’d been struggling a little. And, yes, he’d swallowed a bit of seawater, but what Storm Caller hadn’t at some point? He was chosen by the sea. His storm magic was proof of that. There was no way the sea would have let him drown.

  Thankfully, no one had seen Abbey help him. Although the Storm Callers had been watching from their place up on the wall, their view had been obscured by the docks. For all they knew, Dustin had made it through on his own, if just barely.

  Now, the Storm Callers and the stormship captains—the ones who were in port, anyway—were gathered in the Magistrate’s office discussing his placement. Having passed the Testing, he knew he’d get a spot, but not all stormships were created equal. The highest among them spent their time fighting Barskall Warriors along Kaldfell’s western coast. Some of them even performed raids in Barskall territories from time to time. The lowliest ships, on the other hand, patrolled the fishing and trading routes, calming the seas and dispelling any storms that endangered the fishermen and traders.

  In Dustin’s mind, those two types of ships shouldn’t even share the same name. The ones who fought Barskall were warriors. The others were little more than babysitters. Dustin had spent the last twelve years on ships that protected trade routes, and he was ready to see the other kind. War-bound stormships didn’t take apprentices.

  The door to the Magistrate’s office opened, and Harald, Dustin’s mentor, stuck his head out. He had a thick beard that hung to his chest, and his brownish-blond hair was a mess of uncombed tangles. He was a man accustomed to life at sea.

  “We’re ready for you, boy.” As always, Harald’s eyes were unreadable. The vibrant, blue-green tint didn’t help, but there was coldness in those eyes that hid whatever emotion lived behind them. Harald had spent many years hunting the Barskall before he’d agreed to take on an apprentice. Perhaps all the fighting had hardened him.

  The older man turned and walked back into the office. Dustin quickly followed.

  Six stormship captains sat on one side of the table, four male and two female. The Storm Callers sat on the other side. Dustin recognized most of them, but not all. With so many ships coming and going from Holdgate all the time, it was impossible to know everyone.

  Dustin did his best not to glare at the old Storm Caller who’d rowed him out to Testing Rock, but he wasn’t entirely successful. The man had almost drowned him, after all.

  The Magistrate sat at the head of the table. He was the only man present without a beard, and he wore his long, white hair pulled back in a thick braid.

  His was a strange position. Storm captains and Storm Callers held the highest status in Holdgate, and they appointed a Magistrate to oversee the day-to-day operations of Holdgate and to mediate any conflicts between them. He was both the leader of the city and an employee of the people who controlled the stormships.

  Technically, any citizen of Holdgate could bring a grievance to the Magistrate, but most knew better than to do so. He was a busy man, and he didn’t appreciate his time being wasted. A citizen who asked for a ruling from the Magistrate was just as likely to end up in a cell themselves as they were to have their problem solved.

  The Magistrate nodded at Dustin as he entered. The man’s bushy eyebrows seemed to wiggle of their own accord when he moved his head.

  He didn’t offer Dustin the open chair at the foot of the table, so Dustin stood, silently waiting.

  On the table in front of him lay a long, twisted staff, and a blue cloak. The symbols of a Storm Caller.

  “First, I’d like to offer you congratulations on behalf of Holdgate,” the Magistrate said. “You’ve passed the Testing. You are now a Storm Caller.”

  Dustin couldn’t keep the smile from leaping onto his face. His chest swelled with pride. He’d done it.

  The Magistrate raised a finger. “However, the Testing was not without its challenges. You didn’t calm the waters completely. Swimming in those waters was a risky move. The fact that you made it to shore is a testament to your strength, but not necessarily your Storm Calling abilities.”

  The smile melted off Dustin’s face, and his cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

  Harald pointed at the Magistrate. “Or it shows his strong connection with the sea. She didn’t drown him, after all.”

  The Magistrate waved the statement away. “You’ve made yourself clear, Harald, and your dedication to your apprentice is admirable. But we’ve made our decision.” He turned back to Dustin. “We know you want to be placed on a ship headed northwest to fight Barskall.”

  Dustin nodded fiercely. “Yes, sir. Very much so.”

  “We believe that your skill makes you a candidate for such a placement. However, your performance in the Testing shows you’re not ready.”

  Dustin’s knees suddenly felt weak. This couldn’t be happening. Just this morning he’d been so sure he was going to get a placement on one of the best ships.

  He started to object, but the Magistrate silenced him with a raised hand.

  “We’ve come up with a rather elegant solution. The Storm Caller from The Foggy Day is being moved to another stormship. You’ll replace him.”

  Dustin blinked hard. The Foggy Day? He’d never even heard of that ship.

  “The Foggy Day has a flexible placement, meaning they spend most of their time protecting fishing vessels, but they head northwest when more help is needed there. You’ll be able to hone your skills while still getting the occasional taste of war. Roy will be your captain.”

  He gestured down the table toward a short, balding man in his late thirties. “Hiya.”

  Dustin fought hard to keep the grimace off his face. This man was to be his captain? He looked like he ought to be running a tavern rather than a stormship.

  “I hope you’re ready for action,” Roy continued. “We’re heading out in the morning. A fishing ship’s been missing off the southern coast for a few weeks, and we’ve been assigned to track
her down.”

  The southern coast. Exactly the opposite of where he wanted to be. Great.

  He swallowed hard, making sure his anger was in check before he spoke. “Thank you for the opportunity. I look forward to working with you, Roy.”

  “That’s the spirit!” The Magistrate clapped his hands together. “Now, the good part. We have a staff and cloak to present to you.”

  Dustin stepped forward, his chin thrust out. He’d make this work. He had to. If they wanted him to babysit fishermen, he’d be the best damn fisherman babysitter they’d ever seen. He’d earn his place in the war yet.

  A clap of thunder roared through the air. It was so powerful it made the table shake. All eyes went toward the window. The sky was blue and nearly clear of clouds. That could only mean one thing.

  The Magistrate slapped his hand on the table in excitement. “They’re back!”

  An excited murmur ran through the room. Thunderclap always announced itself when it returned to Holdgate.

  The rest of the ceremony went quickly. Most of the captains and Storm Callers seemed distracted. Dustin didn’t take it personally. He wanted to get down to the docks as much as the rest of them did.

  The most powerful ship in the Holdgate fleet had returned.

  The group made its way down to the docks after the ceremony. Dustin walked among them, truly a peer with the other Storm Callers for the first time. The blue cloak felt heavier than he’d expected, and the tall staff was anything but natural as a walking stick. It was going to take some time to get comfortable with his new adornments.

  They reached the docks just as Thunderclap was lowering its gangplank. A small crowd was already gathering to meet the disembarking sailors. The massive ship was the biggest in the fleet, and the deeds of both its crew and its captain were legendary. Dustin had come down to the docks to watch the arrival of Thunderclap dozens of times as a child. It was part of the reason he wanted to be a Storm Caller in the first place. Someday winning the spot as Storm Caller on Thunderclap was a dream he desired just as strongly now as he had as a boy.