Welcome To The Age of Magic

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Welcome To The Age of Magic Page 51

by C M Raymond et al.


  “Maybe, but maybe not,” Lokane said. “You mentioned sorcerers able to pull magic out of thin air, correct? Though I’ve never seen it, I’ve heard tales of such magic. And if these sorcerers are doing the same, it’s not inconceivable that they would be after you for a connected reason.”

  “Wait.” It was Alastar’s turn to look confused. “I thought all magic came from nowhere, like it just appeared. That’s… wrong?”

  “It would seem that sharing our secrets with the enemy wouldn’t be the prudent thing to do here,” Lokane said, pondering, “But since your sister is being honest with us, I suppose a little honesty won’t hurt from our side either. That, and if I judge the situation correctly, you’re basically stuck here with us until we can all come up with a strategy for how to deal with these sorcerers.”

  He nodded to Donnon, who stepped back and raised his hands. Nothing happened.

  “See,” Lokane said. “Donnon is a fire user, but he can’t just make fire. When a man or woman learns they are a fire user, it is only after a fire spirit has visited them when there is a fire nearby. One might be using a torch when a spirit dances out, looking like a flame, and presents said person with their powers. Or maybe while preparing a hot stew, or whenever a fire is around. Likewise, with water, the user would have generally been by a lake or river.”

  “Then, to call on the powers,” Donnon added as he approached one of the torches on the walls, and picked it up, “you simply have to be close enough to maneuver it, depending on your power with the spell.”

  With that, he lifted the torch and held out his other hand. His eyes went black, and the flames shot out from the torch, encircling him like a whip before shooting up and coming to form a ball of fire, circling in the air about an inch from his free hand.

  He winked at Rhona, and then let the flames return to the fire of the torch.

  Rhona’s heart was beating out of her chest, and her mind overflowing with questions.

  “And water… it’s the same?”

  Donnon nodded. “But not the same people. Clans who live by the water often discover water mages among them. Fire mages are born among the mountain clans, more or less.”

  “Come, we mustn’t keep the council waiting,” Lokane said, motioning them onward. “We’ll have plenty more time to talk after breakfast is served.”

  Rhona couldn’t help the small whimper of excitement that escaped her lips at the thought of food and drink.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you,” Donnon said, stepping up beside her and offering her a hand so that she could step down a ledge that led to the path below.

  She was about to take it, when Alastar stepped between the two of them, grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her down.

  “I could’ve done that myself,” she said, glaring.

  “Then why would you be reaching for his hand?” He turned on Donnon. “And you, thanks for the hospitality, but you’d best keep your hands to yourself.”

  He stormed on ahead, leaving Donnon to grin like a schoolboy at Rhona. She had to admit, there was something charming about that grin. Instead of following her brother, or putting up with his being overly protective, she took Donnon’s arm and allowed him to escort her on.

  “I was feeling light-headed,” she explained when Alastar glanced back and frowned. He was about to move to help her, when she said, “Just keep walking. I’m a grown woman.”

  “Barely,” he muttered, but didn’t say anything more on the matter.

  “While I’m all for being used to annoy older brothers,” Donnon whispered, leaning in to her, “I must warn you, I have a sensitive heart.”

  She laughed. “We can all tell, you big softie.”

  He pulled her closer. She thought about stepping away. After all, she barely knew this man. But after learning that not only had he carried her some of the way, helping her brother and her to escape, but that he was now entrusting them with this hideout and the secrets of his people’s magic, she felt a closeness she had never felt this quickly with anyone before.

  They descended into a cave where a woman fire mage bowed at their entrance, and then spread her arms out so that fire spread from two torches to run along the ground. The flames hit a central location and then burst outward, spreading along the walls so that there was one large circle of controlled fire lighting up the entire cavern.

  Lady Estair had set up a table where several others were bringing out plates of food. Past that, several other passages broke off, looking like they led up. Some rooms down here formed out of more ruins, sheets of metal from those abandoned with “bus” written on the side, and all sorts of old knick-knacks piled up on the far side.

  “What is this place?” Rhona asked.

  “A collector’s dream,” Donnon said, nodding at Lokane. “That specific collector, actually. He loves this stuff. Says it connects us to our ancestors and even believes it might have some sort of old magic to it. Me? I say it’s junk. Cool junk, but junk.”

  “It’s… amazing.”

  “You see this stuff, you’d think his collection’s complete, right?” Donnon laughed. “Not remotely. He has these tunnels set up for transportation, getting around without the paladins knowing, but really, I think it’s his excuse to excavate, to see what he can learn about them—the people from before the Age of Madness.”

  “Have you learned anything, I don’t know, of value?”

  “They had many oddities, that’s for sure. But you look at some of this stuff, like there.” He pointed to a corner where a cylindrical metal object sat, with a painting of a woman on its side, twice the size of a real one. “They were artistic, technologically advanced to a level we’ll never understand, and yet… not a single sign of them knowing magic that we can find.”

  “But I can’t imagine what that would look like anyway.”

  He nodded. “True enough. Could there even have really been a world with all of this, but without the ability to do what we do?”

  The idea of being lumped into the group of people who can use magic scared her and a lump caught in her throat. “Why are you all telling us all this? Aren’t you afraid we’ll return and tell the others?”

  He looked at her with trusting, caring eyes. “You’ll never fit in with their kind again. I’m sorry to say it, but it’s true. You’re done there. The paladin, too, I imagine.”

  “That’s quite enough,” Alastar said. He stood at the table, holding out a chair for Rhona.

  She smiled and said, “Excuse me,” before joining her brother. She made sure to give him a very annoyed glare before taking her seat.

  “At last,” Estair said, her eyes lingering on Rhona and Alastar, “it seems we’re ready to unite Roneland.”

  Alastar had just taken a sip from his mug, but nearly spat it out. “Excuse me?”

  “The Lady speaks about an old legend here,” Lokane leaned forward and offered him a plate of turnips and greens, “told of a time when the paladins would come to realize that their magic is not so different from our own.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alastar said, eyeing the plate of food and finally accepting. He scooped some onto this plate and handed it to Rhona. “But what makes you think this would ever happen?”

  “It’s not about thinking. It’s about hoping.”

  Estair nodded. “It’s about surviving, if we’re being truthful here. The Storm Raiders grow in force, so I’m told, and there are other threats. Your castle wasn’t the first to be taken down by a small army of sorcerers. In fact, we learned of them a week ago when a man came here in tatters, shouting about death and destruction. Two clans united to form a squad of fire mages and ice mages to stand against them… but were destroyed like a dry leaf, crumpled and blown to the wind.”

  The others around the table shook their heads, each of their eyes holding the terror that Rhona felt coursing through her chest. In spite of her hunger and exhaustion, and the buttery smell of roasted potatoes that had been so enticing moments before, she now seem
ed to have lost her appetite.

  “How can we hope to stand against them?” she found herself saying.

  The answer came in the form of all eyes on her, and then her brother’s mouth opened slowly before he said, “They mean for your powers to lead the defense.” He stood, his seat flying backward. “That’s why he brought us here, once he saw.” He spun on Donnon. “You led us here knowing this?”

  He shook his head. “I already told you, I came for the healer.”

  Estair narrowed her eyes at this, then said, “Ah, I received the message. You must be Donnon, then?”

  Giving her a slight nod, he said, “We thought the message might not be enough to convince you.”

  “True, it might not have, and in fact, I’m forced to wonder why you wouldn’t return to your own clan with this paladin, if you needed a healer.”

  His expression became grim at that. “The thought had crossed my mind, but these two needed shelter, and rest.”

  “So you put their needs ahead of your own.” She nodded, pleased. “Here’s the situation we find ourselves in. Donnon is in need of a healer, Rhona in need of a teacher—”

  “I am?” Rhona asked.

  “You are, or you may never fully understand the depth of your powers.”

  “I don’t understand something,” Alastar said, eyes focused on Estair. “You are apparently fire mages, or those of you who wield magic. In what way are you a healer, too, then?”

  Her smile was pleasant, but with a deep sorrow in her eyes. “They asked that of my parents, too, before they took me from them as a young child. They asked if I was praying, if I was somehow trained in the paladin arts, maybe a secret training on the side. The answer to all of those questions was no, which is why I know your prayers are magic and nothing more. I know, because we have the same powers, Alastar. You and I are not as different as you want to believe.”

  He blinked hard, reached for his chair to sit, but ended up sitting in the open air where his seat had been before it fell backwards. When he hit the ground with a clang, he was barely able to stand again, and Rhona stood to help him to his feet, then righted his chair for him.

  When he was seated, he took a long drink of water from his cup, then stared at Estair and said, “Show me.”

  She smiled, and then her eyes glowed gold, and the room darkened, just before brightening beyond belief. It was like daylight, and many had to shield their eyes as they adjusted.

  With a wave of her hands, Estair let the light fade into a shield around her, much like the ones Alastar made, and then sent the light across the table to bathe Rhona and Alsatar in a tingling warmth.

  The fright vanished along with the pains in Rhona’s stomach, and the food suddenly looked appealing again.

  “You see,” Estair said. “Not a moment’s prayer. You damn paladins think you’re so much better than us, think you’re holy. But our magic comes from the same place—and no amount of ‘pure living’ changes the fact that you’re as human as the rest of us.”

  Alastar stared at her, eyes twitching, and then he stood again, turned to Rhona and said, “We’re done here,” before storming away from the table and back the way they came.

  “I’ll… talk to him,” Rhona said as she leaped up from her chair. She darted over and caught up with him at the tunnel entrance. “Alastar, wait!”

  He spun, but where she expected to see fury, there was sorrow in his glistening eyes.

  “Wh—what do we do?” she asked.

  He reached out to lean against the dirt wall for support, his posture bent as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “It’s some kind of cheap trick. It must be. Rodrick sent that witch to test my faith. They can’t expect me to forsake everything I’ve ever believed in, simply because some witch can replicate what the Saint has granted me.”

  “Then don’t. Don’t abandon faith, if that’s what drives you. Is there a Saint Rodrick out there, looking over us in spirit or something? Hell, I don’t know. But what I do know is that they make a lot of sense. If this army of sorcerers is moving through the land, and somehow, they can track where I am, that’ll be tough for us to handle on our own. But if we find ourselves a team, if we go after the Sword of the Light and find it, we might just be unstoppable.”

  “The power of light and the power of dark,” he said with a laugh. “The pair we would make.”

  “Brother and sister, ridding the world of evil.”

  He frowned. “Assuming evil now means something entirely different from what we have always been raised to believe.”

  “It’s an assumption we’ll have to make. That, or burn me at the stake right now. Either way, this power is a part of me. I feel it too strongly to believe anything else.”

  He nodded and then took her in an embrace. “Tell them we’re in. We’ll help them, but… I see you with that Donnon guy again, I’ll have to say my piece.”

  “How about instead, we’re in, and I’ll do whatever the hell I want with whomever the hell I want?”

  Although he rolled his eyes, he nodded, and they turned back to the table to see the others watching them.

  “We’re in agreement then?” Estair called over.

  Rhona nodded. “Just tell us where to sign, and it’s on.” They all looked at her like she was an idiot. “Oh, just… yeah, we’re on board.”

  With a cheer, they welcomed her and Alastar back to the table, and made sure they were eating well this time. When the first bite of lamb stew filled her mouth with warmth and the taste of shallots and carrots, she closed her eyes and had to keep herself from moaning. She opened her eyes to see Donnon staring with a smile at the corner of his mouth, so she turned away, blushing.

  “Remember,” Alastar said, playfully. “Stay away from him.”

  She playfully kicked him, gently though so as not to hurt her toes on his armor. “You remember, stay the hell out of my business.”

  He laughed and then took a bite of his lamb, not even caring to wipe the grease from his chin, he was so lost in the moment of ecstasy.

  From the sounds of what they were about to get themselves into, there wouldn’t be much opportunity for rest and relaxation. They had better enjoy it while they had the chance, Rhona thought to herself as she took another mouthful of her stew.

  7

  Alastar knelt at the side of the bed they had given him, if you could call it that, in what was to be his sleeping quarters. This particular room looked like it had once been a half of a living room, with the stones that had made up a fireplace that was now caved in. The ‘bed’ was just several cloths thrown down on the floor.

  He had found a corner to stash his armor and recoiled at the putrid stench that wafted up from his armpits, now that the armor was off. A bath would have been perfect after the feast at the castle, in preparation for his holy quest. Instead, those damned sorcerers had come along and messed everything up. He’d have to remember to bathe in the morning, if there was any sort of bathing facility here. They had drinking water, so if nothing else, that would have to do.

  “Holy Saint,” he said, hands clasped and eyes closed, “grant me virtue, honor, and devotion. See me through these hard times so that I may see you shine.” He felt his head rolling as he nodded off, nearly losing the prayer to sleep. He wanted a lot of things at the moment—peace of mind, his sister to have never used magic in the first place, and to fulfill his honor and see that those who attacked the paladins should meet his blade.

  But right about now, sleep pulled at his desires above all else.

  His body would have likely cracked and ached as he lay down, if not for the healing spell the Lady Estair had put over him.

  He rolled over on the cloths, trying to get comfortable, when he froze at the sight of a shadow falling across his room. In a moment, he was sitting up with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “Can a man never rest?”

  “A man could,” came a woman’s voice. “But then he would miss out on so much of life.”


  “Better to miss out and live, than to die from exhaustion.”

  “A man should let a woman care for his needs.” She leaned against the doorway and, once again, the neckline of her dress fell to reveal more skin than he was comfortable being around.

  “Even if I were at a point where I could be willing to betray my vows, I promise you, I haven’t the energy.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m only testing your resolve.” She adjusted her clothes to cover the bare flesh and entered, leaning against the wall so that she could look down on him. “Thing is, I need to make sure you’re loyal once you put your heart to something.”

  “Loyalty is my strong suit.” He tilted his head, wondering where she could be going with this. “But my loyalty still stands behind my faith.”

  “And yet, you abandoned your castle to see your sister, a magic user, to safety. You were getting her away from there as much as you were getting her away from the sorcerers, am I wrong?”

  He turned his gaze to the earth at his feet, as dark as it was. The only light came from one of the torches out in the hallway, which was at this moment casting deep shadows across the room.

  “It’s only ever been me and her,” he said. “I’d burn the world to the ground if it meant saving her.”

  “We start training tomorrow, after you have slept. I mean to show you that everything you’ve thought about life with those paladins is wrong.”

  He turned to look at her, unable to ignore the way the light highlighted her curves. With a simple nod, he lay back and closed his eyes.

  “Guess I better get on with my sleep then,” he said, and could barely hear her saying something in response as sleep overcame him at last.

  Rhona only slept four or five hours, but when she woke, she felt completely rested. She returned to the dining area, realizing she hadn’t eaten nearly enough the night before, and was pleased to see an array of freshly roasted vegetables and several loaves of bread.

  No one else was around, so she helped herself, wondering if her brother was still sleeping, but not knowing where they had put him for the night.

 

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