Arcana: A recollection
Page 15
It was whispering to me. Dark, little words, digging their way into my head like claws. I could not believe that something so malevolent existed in this world. Though I attempted to forget, the memories simply came back stronger. Each time brought me a little closer to insanity. No matter how far I ran from it, no matter where I wandered to in Arcana, it followed me. Piece by piece, my mind was rotting from its influence. It drained the vigour of life from me, it drained me of my very will to live. Soon, I did not have any strength left in my mind or body. It had gradually worn me down, grinding the foundation of my mind into dust. Soon, I came to desire an end to its whispers. However, light has a way of shining through darkness. I was wandering in a remote wasteland of Arcana. A great calamity occurred there a very long time ago, and the land had not healed despite the passage of time. Gigantic dunes of blue sand rose and fell across the wasteland. Whatever had occurred there was related to magic. Even the air was saturated with the remnants of the great disaster, each breath I took caused the residual energy to swirl in my lungs. Some of the legends I had heard about that place say that once you begin wandering in those lands, you can never escape them. You would walk and wander until death claimed you. I had gone there to test those legends. Endlessly I walked across the dunes. Grains of sand were flicked and scattered everywhere as great and howling winds began to whip through the wasteland. Soon, I couldn’t even see my hand when I put it in front of my face. I grew weaker and weaker, my throat as dry as the magic-saturated desert that I was wandering in. The whispers grew fainter and fainter as my vision started to fade, and a gentle exhaustion began to overcome me. But, then another voice spoke, echoing through the hungry gales. It brought me back, and demanded an answer from me.
‘You think that you are fit to dump your corpse in my wasteland? No no, this will not do at all. I believe we need to have a discussion, my dear fellow. Stand still for a moment.’ Though I did not feel particularly inclined to follow the voice’s instructions, my body suddenly seized up completely. I completely lost control over myself, and felt as though I was merely a spectator who was watching his body from a distance. Whatever force had claimed me was quite powerful, and despite my magical potential, it easily overwhelmed me.
‘That’s the way. Now, take a turn to the right. After that, walk forward about one hundred paces.’ Angry at being controlled in such a way, I tried to shout but nothing came out.
‘Now now, save your breath for when we’re having our conversation.’ After exactly one hundred paces, I stopped dead in my tracks. The sandstorm subsided gradually, and before me a great tower stretched towards the sky. From my perspective, it seemed infinite. I could see no visible door or openings in it, but then the voice spoke again.
‘Oh, right. I always forget to open the door for guests. Do come in.’ The fine white stone the tower was made from began creaking and shifting, until an opening appeared. I was marched directly inside, with the stone door collapsing behind me. A wizened old man sat on a simple wooden chair. He glanced at another chair in the room. Against my will, I was sat down in the other chair, directly facing him. He was stout and his skin was of a deep bronze colour, not unlike the men we saw in the underground tunnels. He rose from his chair and casually strolled up to me, looking me up and down. He had not yet released his hold on me as he inspected, as if he expected me to rise up and assault him. To be honest, I probably would have.
‘I could read your intentions as soon as you walked into this place. You came here to test the old legend, didn’t you? You wished to end your life?’ Struggling to move my mouth, I managed to speak a few garbled words.
‘What.... if.... I did?’
‘Then I deeply worry for you. An Arcanian, of all people, should know that their lives are not worthless and to be thrown away so casually.’ It became silent for a moment, as though whoever was speaking to me was taking the time to think, or to inspect me.
‘You attitude make sense now. Darkness hangs over your soul, and whispers in your ear. You must overcome the shadow which is binding you. I can hear it trying to whisper through the sands. While you are here, it cannot say anything. However, we have much to talk about.’
‘I only get visitors every now and then, you know. Most people who lose the will to live tend to throw themselves into the war against Harkon. Though, I would say you’ve already done that, noting that scar on the back of your head. Must’ve been a blunt weapon of some sort.’ After I had left the Arcanian military, I kept my head clean shaven every day onward. It was traditional for Arcanian soldiers, and I came to appreciate it during that time.
‘I see why you are in this state, of wishing away your life and leaving an unmarked grave in this little wasteland of mine. As I have said before, darkness has touched your soul, and it seeks to extinguish your light. What is interesting is that you’ve got great potential for magic, yet I can tell you haven’t studied it in any meaningful way just yet. Strange that, they should’ve taught you at least some in the military…’
‘I was a trade negotiator. No combat skills or magic to be learned in that profession.’
‘Then how did you get that mark on the back of your head?’ Causing me to spin around, he inspected the back of my head, noting the place where I was struck during the borderland skirmishes.
‘It… is a long story.’
‘And I am a man with plenty of time, and I just so happen to like stories. Why don’t you share with me the details of your adventures?’ Before I can reply, he seemed to pause for a moment, as though he had forgotten to say something.
‘Oh, and what is your name? Pardon my manners, it has been some time since I have had a conversation.’
‘I am Jacques, and who might you be, wizard? I do not appreciate being controlled by magic in such a manner.’
‘I am sorry, but it needed to be done. Do you know that you cannot defeat the shadow chasing you? Not as you are now, at least. It cannot reach you here, but if it almost broke you, then it’s more than capable of doing it again. Unless you have the proper training to protect yourself.’
‘So, what are you suggesting that I learn in order to fight it? Pray to some forgotten god in the hopes that it will protect me from evil?’
‘Don’t be silly. Gods do not act on any mortal’s behalf. I’ve had discussions with a few of them, and they are a surly group of individuals. What I am saying is that you should learn the use of the arcane arts, the use of magic. We might have to brush up on your other skills as well.’ He finally released his grip on my body, and allowed me to stand up.
‘Show me your swordplay, Jacques. Try your best to strike me.’ Though he had annoyed me, I did not like the thought of swinging a blade wildly at him. He seemed to notice, and reassured me.
‘It’ll be fine. I’m a wizard you know.’ Shrugging, I raised my sword above my head and brought it down swiftly where he was standing. He casually stepped out of the way, and my sword sank into the wooden chair.
‘Poorest form I have seen yet. It’s different when you aren’t inside a bloody skirmish and chaos, isn’t it?’ Even more irritated with the little man, I struggled to pull the sword out of the chair. When the sword budged, its hilt hit me on the chin. Snickering quietly to himself, the Wizard mocked me again as I was rubbing my sore jaw.
‘What, you can’t even pull the blade out of wood without hurting yourself? That is most disappointing, Jacques.’ Swinging my sword in his direction, he ducked under it with no effort at all, and it made a loud clang as it hit the stony wall.
‘You’re going to blunt it if you keep doing that!’ And so it continued. No matter what way I tried to strike him, he always dodged it with no effort at all, and soon I could not raise my sword for another strike. Triumphant, the wizard made his assessment of my skills.
‘You said that you taught yourself how to use that sword. And it shows, Jacques.’ Walking toward a grand wooden door, he beckoned me to follow him.
‘We will begin your lessons now. I hope you are a good learner.’
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‘Well, Jacques, your other option is to leave here and let that thing crack your mind like a porcelain vase again. You seem smart enough, so I think you know what the better choice would be. Anyway, before we get to that, I want to hear more about your adventures. Tell me.’ So, I sat there for sometime, I don’t know how long. I recalled what had happened up until then much in the same manner that I am recalling it with you in this chronicle. He didn’t seem to express much emotion, all he did was keep that same little smirk he had the entire time I had been in the room with him. It irritated me, but I thought to myself that I wasn’t exactly in a position to tell him to stop doing that. He seemed to be observing me as I spoke, trying to understand me a bit better. Soon, when I had finished telling him all that had happened, he gave a nod.
‘You carry a powerful destiny, Jacques. I know it has not occurred to you, but think about it. Don’t you think you have been extremely blessed by luck throughout your life?’
‘What do you mean “lucky”? Raiders turned my house into a pile of ash and my life into chaos. I encounter a living darkness which probably would’ve twisted my soul into some unspeakable horror...’
‘Yes, but always at the right moment, the situation turned in your favour. Don’t you think that’s unusual? I mean, what are the odds that you just so happen to run into the right tunnel to reflect the sunlight straight into that entity?’ He had an excellent point. There and then, I began learning my first real lesson in magic. He taught me the same concept that I have taught you. Powerful users of magic are lucky, because their magic influences the world around them. I often find it hard to believe that a force that originates within a single person can have such an incredible impact on their lives. But it can, and it most certainly has throughout my life. When the lesson ended, the wizard seemed most satisfied with his work.
‘You are a capable learner. I believe you will transcend all of my expectations.’ And, that’s how it was for the time I spent there. He had vast libraries hidden beneath those strange sands, great and plentiful knowledge about the art of magic. There were books on mind control and as such, and I did not wish to learn what wisdom they had to offer. However, the wizard insisted that if I were to resist outside forces influencing my mind in the future, I had to understand how this kind of magic worked. That is a reasonable conclusion. But, I still believe that only evil can come of being able to control someone on such a level.