Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  In the few seconds Marcus had taken to fight, more had appeared. Garrett and Bette circled a remnant that was armed with a short sword. Another crept towards Danil from behind.

  Danil caught the view in Julianne's mind and dropped to the ground as it swung for his head. He rolled on his back and kicked, his legs caught in his traditional robes. Julianne dove for them, cracked her staff over the remnant's head hard enough to make the wood tremble in her hands.

  It didn't fall. If anything, the attack enraged it, sending it into a frenzy. A frenzy directed at Julianne. It stared her down, mucous gathered in one corner of its eye, blistering pustules weeping around it. It took a step towards her. She took one back, fumbling at her belt for the small knife she carried.

  “Bitch. You die!”

  21

  It leapt. The frail, scabbed body pressed against Julianne as it gnashed its teeth, trying to bite her face. Teeth sank into her arm and she screamed, slashing forwards with her tiny weapon.

  “You’ll make a nice dinner, bitch,” the remnant spat, Julianne’s blood on its chin.

  “This dinner bites back,” she said through bared teeth.

  Julianne stabbed an eye, the sickening pop almost as awful as the clear fluid that ran down and splashed her face. The remnant didn't react, except to struggle harder against the arm Julianne had thrown up to protect her vulnerable throat.

  Jerking the knife free she thrust again, piercing the side of the face, then again at the ear. This time, she hit her mark, shoving the blade deep into the creature's head.

  It spasmed.

  “Dinner bitch… bites.” Coughing once, a barrage of chunky saliva and mucous coming along with it, the beast collapsed on top of her, the dead weight squeezing the breath from her lungs.

  Heaving, Julianne kicked and shoved until the body rolled off.

  Julianne forced herself up to her knees, shaking. She looked up to see Marcus kicking the fallen body of a remnant. Bette and Garrett were wiping their weapons clean and Bastian stood, staring at his Master, face pale and body trembling.

  "Bitch’s britches, Jules. I know you learned to fight a bit in Arcadia, but I didn't know you could do that." Danil's eyes were as wide as Bastian’s.

  "We—I should have helped. I'm sorry, Master, I didn't—" Bastian began.

  Julianne cut off Bastian's stammered apology. "You weren't trained for this. None of us were, really. That's why we brought them." She jerked her head at Marcus and the rearick. The soldier dipped his head with a wry smile.

  "She's right." Marcus stepped forwards smoothly, taking Bastian's shoulders. "But perhaps we should change that before we go too much further. I can't teach you to fight, but I can give you some basic skills to give you half a chance." He looked down at Julianne’s soiled clothes and wrinkled his nose. “With any luck, that stink will scare away anything else till we get through the city proper.”

  “I'm half tempted to strip it off and leave it,” she said without thinking.

  “I never thought I'd see him speechless,” Garrett said with a snigger. Julianne looked at Marcus, realizing what she'd said.

  He was red, lips pressed together as he tried to restrain himself. He failed, bursting into laughter that wasn't at all muffled by the fist he shoved in his mouth.

  "Is it safer once we pass through?" Danil asked when Marcus had himself under control. The blind mystic smothered a grin, but didn't comment on Julianne's proposal.

  "Aye," Bette spoke up. "That is, if what I heard was correct?"

  Marcus nodded an affirmative. "Come on. Sorry, Jules, no time to stop. You'll just have to keep your clothes on… but maybe walk downwind of the rest of us?" He winked, ignoring her furious scowl. "Once we're far enough away from this mess we can stop to regroup, but we'll be in remnant territory for a few days."

  Julianne looked at her horse. Cloud Dancer seemed to sense her intent and shuffled away. Julianne gently pulled her harness until she was eye to eye with the beast. "Listen here, horse. I don't like this any more than you do, but Bitch be damned if I'm going to extend this any longer by going on foot."

  Cloud Dancer snorted and rolled her eyes.

  Bette stepped up to her. “Aye, pretty Cloud. Don’t ye listen to this one. Now, you be a good pony and let the Master hop up, aye?” Bette patted the horse’s nose and Julianne took the opportunity to mount up. The horse tensed, but allowed her to keep her seat.

  “I told ye,” Bette lectured, “She needs a name, and ye need to use it. She’ll be much more polite if ye do.”

  Julianne rolled her eyes, trying not to wonder if she looked like Cloud Dancer while doing it. She nudged the horse with her knees and the party set off, now trying to avoid both large, empty areas and the dense greenery at the edges of the roads.

  “The sooner we’re out of this bloody ghost city, the better,” Garrett mumbled.

  By mid-afternoon, the cluster of tumbled-down buildings had turned into twisted forest with only occasional broken stones and rusted metal bars as evidence people had once lived there. They passed two abandoned hovels, evidenced by dried, chewed bones and burnt out campfires. Other things, like trinkets and fabric scraps scattered the areas, lying tossed aside with little care.

  Julianne nursed her aching head, avoiding magic use for now. It hadn’t even occurred to her to use it during the attack—not just because of the sudden appearance of the remnant, but because she’d always been told they were like animals.

  Mental magic only worked on humans, unlike druidic magic, which worked on animals and not people. Remnant were somewhere in between, descended from human ancestors who were lost to the madness that swept the world.

  The Founder stopped its spread, but couldn’t save those already beyond redemption. Hence, the remnant were born. Julianne knew from notes in the Temple that mystics couldn’t access a remnant mind like a human one, but those notes were old and disjointed and only contained the little knowledge that was gained by those mystics that were brave enough to enter the Madlands.

  She thought on that. If Druids had been able to affect a remnant’s mind, surely she’d have heard of it?

  Academic curiosity didn’t trump common sense. If the chance to find out first hand if she could enter a remnant’s mind never came, she wouldn’t complain. Still, if a crisis occurred and it was their only way out… Julianne shuddered.

  Delving into someone’s mind, seeing their thoughts and feelings, was a personal act. Living in the head of one of those beasts, even for a moment, was something she could do without.

  How are you feeling? Danil interrupted her train of thought, bringing Julianne back to the present.

  Fine, she replied. Just a little sore.

  Is it safe to be moving about, Master? Bastian asked. When I trained with Melody, she said waking a concussed person should only be done as a last resort. What if you relapse?

  It’s ok, Julianne sent to him. She glanced over with a reassuring smile. As you develop your skill in reaching into other minds, you grow to know your own better, too. You will learn your limits and recognize impairments with precision.

  “How long until we make camp?” Oblivious to the mental conversation going on around him, Garrett called from the back of the line to Marcus, at the front.

  “Getting tired, old man?” Marcus asked.

  “Just worried you children won’t be able to work yerselves tomorrow if we push too hard today, whippersnapper,” Garrett said in a high, scratchy voice, imitating an old man. “Back when I was a laddie, I had to walk fifteen miles in the snow with no shoes, just to drink the muddy water out of a chamberpot for breakfast.”

  Marcus laughed, a clear, unencumbered sound that bounced off the mountains and back into the valley. Despite his earlier admonitions to stay quiet, Julianne enjoyed the sound. A short glance from Danil sent that feeling skittering behind a wall and she gave herself a mental shake.

  Bastian, do you think you can hold a trance while riding?

  He could, and he did. Julia
nne joined him, though her experience meant she was able to still keep a part of her mind actively guiding her horse, and watching Bastian to make sure he was safe. She guided him into her mind, and through projected thoughts and sensations, showed him what it felt like in her head at that moment.

  There was the gentle throb where she’d been knocked, but she drew him along those pain lines to demonstrate that no major damage had been inflicted. She let him push against her walls from the inside, testing their strength and resilience.

  Bastian’s mind was wide open to her, and though she didn't intend to pry, Julianne couldn't help but reflexively check on him. His anxiety at being away from the Temple combined with the attack by the remnant had shaken him badly, though he barely showed it. Surly stoicism seemed to be his M.O. when things were unsure.

  Even with him this far into her mind, Julianne was able to cordon off certain thoughts and emotions of her own. Bastian noticed that, and reacted with admiration and not a little envy.

  Just you wait. In a few years, you’ll be rivalling me in your strength and experience.

  Bastian blushed and withdrew from her mind. When he moved back to speak with Garrett, she slumped in relief.

  You’re pushing too hard, Danil admonished.

  I know, she replied, but the poor kid is terrified I’m about to drop dead.

  “Here, let me lead your horse. You rest.” Danil stretched a hand out, then quickly cut off her protest. “As long as you’ve got your eyes open a crack, I’ll be fine.”

  Julianne did as he suggested, handing over her reins and settling into her saddle. The light meditation soon turned into a deeper one, and her eyelids drooped until only a slit of light showed beneath them. Twice, Danil nudged her gently as they closed just a little too far.

  When they finally stopped, it was all Julianne could do to pull herself down to the ground and stumble into the tent Bette quickly erected for them. With an appreciation only gained by absolute fatigue, Julianne collapsed onto her thin mattress and finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  She woke the next morning with a crick in her back. Rubbing sleep-gritted eyes, she crawled out of the tent to find Garrett distributing oat biscuits for breakfast.

  “Here, lass. We thought ye might be needing the extra sleep, so I filled yer water bag while ye slept. We’re about to be off, though, so ye’d best get a wriggle on.”

  “Thanks, Garrett.” She took a long swallow and washed the cold water around her fuzzy mouth. She’d missed out on a chance to change and wash in the trickling stream she could hear nearby, but there was no use dwelling on that.

  “Jules!” Marcus trotted over when he saw her. He bent close, examining her face carefully. “That bruise on your face is healing well. How’s that bump?” Gentle fingers touched her scalp as he felt for it, his touch somehow tender, yet clinical.

  “I feel fine, Marcus.” She mustered up a smile and realized she did, indeed, feel fine. Until he prodded the tender lump, anyway. “Ow! You pig-fingered bastard, it’s not going to get better if you poke at it like that!”

  “Sorry.” He gave her a chagrined look. “Are you ok to ride out? I don’t feel safe waiting in one spot for too long after sunrise.”

  Julianne nodded. They quickly tidied up the campsite, Marcus obliterating any sign they’d been there. Julianne pulled herself up onto Cloud Dancer’s back and waited as Garrett finished loading his things.

  A cool breeze tickled Julianne’s arms and sent the hairs on her neck stiff. The sounds of the forest lulled, a momentary break in the rustling leaves and singing birds, a speck of time when everyone was still.

  The silence was shattered by a scream. High and afraid, it broke through the party and made the horses shudder and dance. It cut off with a thud.

  22

  The scream pierced the air again, this time sounding of pain and desperation. “Over there!” Marcus yelled. They forced their horses through shrubbery and fallen branches and kicked them up a bare rock face.

  There, on the ground by a cliff face that stretched to over half the height of the ancient trees, lay a woman. Tears streamed down her face as she cowered over a twisted leg. Julianne blanched at the sight of white bone jutting past blood and flesh. The girl flinched at their presence, then moaned again as pain shook her core.

  “Is she…” Bette began.

  “A remnant.” Garrett spat on the ground and turned away.

  “Ye canna just leave her there, ye beast.”

  “Fine!” Garrett turned and swung his sword, almost cleaving Danil in two as the mystic jumped between the girl and the weapon intended for her. She choked mid-shriek and whimpered, eyes wide as she stared at the people around her. “What the bloody hell are ye doing ye blind fool?”

  “Please,” Danil gasped. “Let me try to reach her.”

  Garrett gripped his weapon so tight his knuckles went white. Then he gave it a shake and lowered it. “Ye damned fool.” He turned away and headed in the direction of the path they’d left.

  “Danil, you can’t save her.” Marcus took Danil’s shoulder and gave it a shake. “Look at that leg, she’ll never survive an injury like that. Not out here.”

  “I have to try, if only to give her a comfortable end.” Danil turned his head in Julianne’s direction. “Help me, Jules. Please, help me.”

  “Help me.”

  All eyes turned to the girl on the ground. Garrett spat again. “The wretches don’t just speak. They think and they plan, too. Not like us, but enough to set a damn trap by shoving one of their own off a mountain.” He eyed the cliff wall and the trees with distrust.

  “Garrett’s not wrong,” Marcus said. He shifted, keeping a close eye on their surroundings. “Whatever you have to do, do it fast. Then, we go.”

  Julianne reached into Danil’s mind. He was cut to the bone at the sight of the almost-human. Her bedraggled hair, crooked teeth and tear-swollen eyes had touched something in him. The certainty of her death weighed heavily on him, and he craved to ease her suffering before that happened if he could.

  “Do it,” she said. If it was a trap, she assumed, it would have already snapped closed. If Danil even had the smallest chance of reaching the remnant, so close to human and yet not, she had to know.

  Danil pushed Julianne away as he prepared to try and direct his magic at the remnant. His usual spells used for seeing were released and his eyes cleared. The girl heaved and let out another yell, keening to the sky and gnashing her teeth, beside herself with pain. Julianne held her breath.

  If anyone could do it, it would be Danil. His reliance on mind-reading to live his day to day life had given him unbeatable stamina and skill at penetrating difficult minds. Though Julianne was stronger as a whole, and more skilled, his single-minded practice was born of necessity and this gave him the edge.

  His own mind-control skills were weak, but if he could link with the remnant, Julianne could use that as a conduit. Then, she would be able to twist the girl’s comprehension of pain and give her a degree of comfort and peace before she left the world.

  Danil’s eyes turned white. Julianne watched as they fluttered. His knees bent and his back arched, then he flopped to the ground.

  “Danil!” she screamed. “Danil, what is it?” She dove into his head and found only pain, hunger and fire. Teeth snapped at her and claws raked at her face and she cut the connection abruptly. Her face stung with scratches that didn’t exist.

  “Stop it, stop her!” Julianne desperately pointed at the girl, who lay writhing and gasping. Marcus walked over and raised his sword.

  The remnant flinched back from the weapon, panting. Then, just before the blade sliced down, she jerked upright, baring the white, dirt-streaked skin of her throat.

  With a single strike, he took her life. Both girl and mystic fell into stillness.

  “Bitch and Bastard, Jules. Is he ok?”

  “He’s been… infected. Something is wrong with his mind,” Bastian gasped. “It’s like… like he’s one o
f them.” The boy's voice shook, and his pale skin betrayed the fear he couldn’t voice.

  Julianne pulled him to her in a fierce hug as Danil lay prone on the ground before her. “It’ll be ok, Bastian. He’ll be ok. He has to be…”

  Julianne swallowed and braced herself. She tried to broach Danil’s mind again. A growling wolf barred her way, baring its teeth when she tried to press past. Fear clutched her stomach. Noting the sensation, she took a step back.

  Breathe, she told herself. There’s an answer to this. There’s always an answer. We just have to find it. Right now, she didn’t know what that answer was. Danil was sick, but she would find a way to heal him. For now, they needed to find a way to safety.

  “He needs rest,” she said, words now calm. “There has to be somewhere safe we can go.”

  “We can’t stop here.” Marcus stood, face grim. “The noise will have the bigger packs headed this way. We need to leave, now.”

  As if to prove his point, a hollow war cry echoed through the valley. Marcus and Bastian lifted Danil onto Julianne’s horse, where she cradled his lax body. Garrett, who had returned at hearing her cries for help, led her horse as Danil had just a day before.

  The somber procession made their way back down the embankment and set off to continue their journey.

  23

  Danil roused twice during the day’s travel, flailing his arms as though he was falling and once, lifting his head to look Julianne in the eyes.

  “Danil?” she whispered, hope welling in her chest.

  He bared his teeth, then sank back into unconsciousness.

  “You dick bag,” she muttered. “If you don’t get through this, I’ll never forgive you.” She had to believe he would recover. If he didn’t, she would never forgive herself.