First Sorcerer

by Kyle Johnson

  “My name is J…I mean, Aranos,” Jeff quickly corrected himself. “Aranos Evenshade. I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was in your forest…or anyone’s forest, really.”

  “He lies,” a woman’s voice spoke from behind Jeff’s head. “All know that the Forests of Eredain are held by the People. So has it been since before the Feast, and so shall it ever be. Kill him and let us be done with it.”

  As the blade shifted on Jeff’s throat, he yelped and cried out, “I’m a Traveler!” in a panicked voice. “I didn’t know, because I just arrived on Ka! I swear!”

  As Jeff said the word “Traveler”, he saw a visible change passed through the elves around him. The pressure of the sword at his neck eased slightly, and Jeff saw shock pass through the elf’s face for an instant. “A Traveler?” the elf said slowly. “That…would explain much.”

  “How can we believe his words?” the female behind Jeff spoke up again. “Any fool can say they are a Traveler!”

  “Se’thain al’benef te alanor,” the elf above Jeff spoke calmly, looking past the prone Sorcerer. “Enteriel nor saetheir im’bethain.”

  The elf looked back at Jeff, his face unreadable. “This must be decided by those with greater wisdom,” the elf told him. “You will be bound and taken elsewhere, where your fate can be judged. Should you resist or attempt to flee, I will allow Geltheriel to kill you as she desires. Do you understand this, Aleen?”

  Jeff nodded, and the elf stepped back, sheathing his blade. Jeff was grabbed from behind and roughly pulled to his feet. He cried out in pain as his arms were yanked behind him and bound tightly, his broken arm screaming in brief agony at the treatment. I can’t wait for that debuff to wear off, he thought miserably. This is going to be a long trip with a busted arm.

  A third elf stepped up and placed a slim finger in the middle of Jeff’s forehead, murmuring softly under his breath. Jeff’s vision was filled with a white fog, and his ears filled with a strange roaring that blocked out other sounds. “This binding is for your benefit as much as ours,” Jeff heard the elf’s voice murmur over the rushing in his ears. “None may know where we go and live. Should your story prove true, we would be forced to slay the first of the Travelers. Should it prove false, though, you will wish we left you to the beasts of the forest.”

  Jeff swallowed as he was roughly pulled into the forest. The white fog let him see only hazy, dark shapes, and the rushing in his ears seemed to numb him to the passage of time. At some point, his arm stopped aching, so he knew that he had been walking for 10 minutes, but beyond that, he had no clue. The pace the elves set was brutal and impossible for him to maintain. He tripped and stumbled over fallen branches and protruding roots; his Stamina fell precariously low time and again, the elves stopping only briefly whenever he collapsed in exhaustion.

  After what could have been 20 minutes or several hours, the elves slowed their pace to something more comfortable. Jeff stopped stumbling, and his Stamina gradually began to recover. Finally, they stopped, and Jeff was allowed to sit and rest. He sunk gratefully to the ground, noticing as he did that it had changed from forest soil to smooth wood.

  A moment or several minutes later – Jeff had no idea which – the white fog vanished from his sight, and the roaring dropped to a whisper before fading entirely. Jeff blinked and looked around, taking in his new surroundings. As he surmised, he sat upon a floor of honey-colored wood, polished to be as smooth as glass. The room was perfectly circular and maybe 20 feet in diameter, with walls of the same burnished wood that rose into a dome that rested at least 15 feet overhead. The floor was covered with soft-looking mats that appeared to be woven grass. The walls held no adornments but were pierced with four evenly spaced, round windows to let in light.

  “So, he claims to be a Traveler,” a smooth, fluid voice drew Jeff’s attention from his examination of his surroundings. Seated across from him was an elf dressed in a long, flowing, grey robe. His hair was pure white and cascaded down to the floor to spill around him. While his face was smooth and unlined, his green eyes radiated an aura of age and power that took Jeff’s breath away. “And what made you give enough credence to his claim to bring him to me, Dorn’ar’el?”

  Jeff glanced over and saw the elf that had first captured him. Without the sword capturing his attention, Jeff noticed that the elf’s skin had a slight bluish tint to it, his hair was silver streaked with black strands, and his eyes were the same shade of green as the old elf before Jeff.

  “We watched the Aleen travel for some time,” Dorn’ar’el replied slowly, obviously choosing his words with care. “At first, we were concerned if he would be a threat, but we quickly realized that he presented no danger. He drank without care from a stagnant pond, his attempts at tracking and stealth were laughable, and he injured himself repeatedly attempting to climb a tree for some reason I could not fathom. After his last injury, he was stunned, and we chose the moment to confront him. He did not understand the Tongue when we spoke it, which any child of the People learns, and he claimed ignorance of the forests lying under our protection.”

  “All of these would be explained if he were a Traveler,” the old elf admitted, his face expressionless. “Of course, he could also be a cunning assassin playing the role of a buffoon in an attempt to gain entrance into one of our Hidden Realms, could he not?”

  “I’m not an assassin,” Jeff spoke up quickly. “My name is Aranos Evenshade, and I’m a Sorcerer.”

  “Not that any assassin would admit to being such,” the old elf pointed out. “Although claiming to be a Sorcerer would be strange, as one has not walked this land for many generations, even among the People. Yet, this is not evidence that you are what you say you are, is it? How are we to prove such a thing?”

  “It is said the Travelers are deathless,” a familiar female voice spoke up from behind Jeff. He glanced back and saw Geltheriel, the elf who wanted to kill him earlier, glaring at him. “We could kill him and see if he returns. If he does not, then he is punished for his lies. If he does, then his claim is proven.”

  “That method would prove conclusive,” the old elf admitted, making Jeff tense in brief panic. “And yet, that is only if we could control to where the Traveler returns from death. I know of no way to predict such a thing, and if he is a Traveler but awakens in a different land after death, not only will we never know the truth, we will have lost a valuable ally.” Geltheriel scowled briefly but bowed her head in assent.

  “It is well, then,” the old elf continued, “that our ancestors foresaw this day and provided us with a means to tell when a Traveler has arrived.” The other elves glanced at one another, apparently confused by their elder’s words.

  Dorn’ar’el spoke first. “Then I am gratified that I sought greater wisdom,” he said with a hint of relief. “Is there aught that you need from us?”

  “Not immediately,” the old elf waved. “I will speak with the alleged Traveler briefly before we begin his Trial. I will summon you when you are needed.” The two elves touched their chests with their right hands and bowed before slipping silently out a door Jeff had not noticed before.

  The old elf turned back to face Jeff. “Well, well,” he spoke, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Quite a puzzle we find ourselves in, yes, Traveler?” Jeff blinked at the elf’s words, and the old man chuckled. “Oh, yes, I do believe your tale, young one,” he reassured the young man. “It would be foolish in the extreme for someone to claim to be a Traveler if they were not. The one thing that all stories of the Travelers agree on is that death is a fleeting thing for them, and the test Geltheriel proposed would be the first one that any reasonable person would try. It would, in short, be volunteering for death.

  “And yet,” the elf continued, “my beliefs are not what truly matter. The stories tell us that the rise of the Travelers will herald a change in the world, although for good or evil, none can say. Some believe that the Travelers will undo the damage caused by the Feast; others claim they will finish delivering us all
to shadow. And that, young Aleen, is the crux of the problem.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jeff replied slowly. “If you’re worried if I’m good or evil? I guess I would say good, at least mostly.”

  “No, not that,” the elf demurred. “Think for a moment. What, First Sorcerer, is the problem?”

  Jeff sat quietly and analyzed the elf’s words. It seemed like the races had been given prophecies of some kind about the arrival of players, but the prophecies were unclear if the players would be beneficial or harmful. That made sense: not every player wanted to be the hero, and not every player treated NPC’s well. Some took great pleasure in causing mayhem simply because they didn’t fear the consequences, while others saw NPC’s as potential sources of experience and loot. Either way, players were not always kind to NPC’s in these games.

  So, the arrival of a Traveler would be a major event, Jeff mused. If the Traveler was friendly, it would be a cause for joy; if cruel, it would be a reason to fear. I guess the real problem is…

  “Belief,” he said after a moment, nodding at the old elf. “The problem is that half your people are probably hoping I’m a Traveler, while the other half is terrified that I might be. Your word that I am or am not isn’t going to matter much in the face of that sort of belief.”

  “More or less,” the old elf agreed. “I’d like to think my opinion is valued, of course, but it is unwise to let doubts linger. They fester, and should they grow sufficiently, they could provoke someone into rather unwise acts.

  “This is why our forebears designed a test,” the elf explained. “Something that only Travelers could accomplish and would be fatal to all others. Should you complete it, none could doubt that you are what you claim; if you fail, then you are assuredly not a Traveler, and death would be the appropriate punishment.”

  “That seems fair,” Jeff nodded nervously. “What do I need to do?”

  “It’s a simple enough matter,” the old elf assured him. “You will enter the test, make your way to the end, and emerge from the other side. You will, of course, encounter some challenges and obstacles, I am certain, and you will likely face combat, but nothing that a Traveler can’t handle.”

  That sounds like a dungeon of some sort, Jeff thought. “That could be a problem,” he said slowly. “I have no weapons and no armor. I’m not sure I can make it through combat like this.”

  “I would have thought a Sorcerer’s weapons and armor would be their spells,” the old elf pointed out. “And yet, we are told that the Travelers will come to us like newborn babes, and we must instruct them in the ways of Ka. Do you have a preference for weapons or armor?”

  “I’ve trained a bit with a staff,” Jeff replied. “As for armor…I’ve never worn it before. I don’t know what would work best for me.”

  “Your world must be a peaceful place, then,” the elf shook his head. “Here, children learn how to use armor effectively at an early age, for death could come any night. It makes one wonder why Travelers would leave such peace to come to a world such as this…but, no matter. I will arrange for a staff and light armor to be brought.

  “In the meantime,” the elf continued, “I assure you that it is my hope that you succeed. To that end, I would like to know what skills you possess, and what level they are, if you don’t mind telling me?”

  “Umm, I’ve only got one,” Jeff said with a touch of embarrassment. “Mana Insight, and it’s at Novice 1.”

  “As newborn babes,” the old elf sighed. “Well, it does make sense. You possess a nearly forgotten skill for a nearly forgotten class. As I recall, Mana Insight allows you to craft spells with greater power, yes?” When Jeff affirmed, the elf continued, “Then to level it, you will need to create spells and delve into your spell points. There is little I can do to help you with that.”

  “What about Mana Manipulation or Meditation?” Jeff asked hurriedly. “Could you help with those?”

  “Meditation, certainly,” the elf smiled. “In fact, I would be happy to teach it to you. Mana Manipulation is a skill I do not possess, but it Is one I have heard of. My understanding is that, to gain or level it, you must try to directly move and shape your mana – which will be far easier once you learn Meditation.”

  The elf moved around behind Jeff, and the Sorcerer felt the bonds slip from his wrists. He groaned in relief as he rubbed his hands and arms, trying to stretch his battered shoulders and restore circulation to his tingling fingers. “Much better,” the elf said, moving back to sit directly in front of Jeff. “Now, let us teach you Meditation.

  “Meditation allows you to turn your thoughts inward,” the elf began to explain, taking Jeff’s hands in his and staring into the younger man’s eyes. “You will look into the core of yourself, to the place where you are connected to the mana of the world. Doing so places you closer to the source of magic, allowing it to flow into you at an enhanced rate. Now, look into my eyes, and I will show you the path inward.”

  Jeff stared into the old elf’s eyes and felt himself falling into them. They loomed in his vision, blotting out all else, until they appeared as pools of emerald fire he could dive into. Suddenly, Jeff felt pressure in his mind, as if something was trying to enter his thoughts. Instinctively he pushed back against the encroaching force, trying to eject it from his mind, but it felt like he was trying to move a mountain by shoving it. The pressure increased until it was nearly painful, but Jeff continued to fight against the intrusion until, as suddenly as it had appeared, the feeling eased.

  Jeff gasped and jerked away from the elf, his head pounding. “What was that?” he demanded, scooting back rapidly. “Why were you trying to get into my head?” As he spoke, Jeff saw a familiar blue box starting to form in his vision, but he quickly willed it away for later. I’m gonna need to adjust my notification settings, he thought absently. Hey, Veronica, remind me to do that later on, okay?

  “Remarkable,” the elf murmured, allowing Jeff to retreat from him. “You have significant mental defenses, Aranos Evenshade. Normally, such a thing requires extensive training, yet you seem to have an intuitive understanding of it. Quite fascinating, really.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Jeff persisted. “Why did you do that?”

  “I was attempting to guide you into Meditation,” the elf explained patiently. “While anyone can learn the skill by simply sitting quietly and focusing inward, that can take months or even years of practice. With guidance, I can show you the path directly; however, I will not do so if it makes you uncomfortable or anxious. You must be at peace in your mind to achieve Meditation.”

  Jeff eyed the elf mistrustfully for a moment, thinking hard. That was kind of scary, he admitted to himself. I know that Singularity already has access to my mind, but the feeling of something trying to enter it was just wrong. Still, if these people wanted me dead or enslaved, there wouldn’t be much I could do to stop them. It wouldn’t make much sense for him to try and trick me when he could just use force to get what he wants.

  “Okay, we can try again,” Jeff finally said quietly. “I just wasn’t expecting that, is all. Maybe next time, a little warning would be in order?”

  The old elf chuckled. “I shall bear that in mind,” he acknowledged, lowering his head. “Yet, most cannot feel my presence without the training I previously mentioned, young one. To any other, the process would have been smooth and painless.” He shrugged. “That is no matter, though,” he said ruefully. “What is, is. All that is important is that I will try once more, and I ask you to relax your defenses and allow me to guide you.”

  Jeff scooted forward and resumed his spot before the old elf. I really need to ask his name, he thought with a chuckle. I can’t keep thinking of him as ‘old elf’. I’ll bet Phil would have thought to ask already. I’m so bad at this!

  “Now, gaze into my eyes once again,” the elf intoned, taking Jeff’s hands. “Relax your mind and try not to resist me.”

  Jeff again felt himself falling into the verdant pools of the e
lf’s eyes, but this time when the pressure against his mind came, he forced himself to relax. His instincts screamed at him to resist, but he tamped them down forcefully. The elf’s eyes loomed in Jeff’s vision, expanding until all he could see was emerald green. Suddenly, the green winked out, plunging Jeff into darkness, and he felt himself plunging down into the center of himself.

  Light returned, and Jeff found himself standing in a seemingly endless, gray expanse of swirling mists. The surface beneath him felt solid, but he couldn’t make out anything that would constitute ground. A large ball of chaotic, rainbow-hued energy spun in the air above his head, wobbling erratically and bathing the nearby mists in eerie flashes of multi-colored light.

  “You have a significant pool of SP,” a voice spoke to Jeff’s right. He turned his head, not really surprised to see the old elf standing next to him. This was supposed to be a guided tour, after all, he thought.

  “I figured that’s what that was,” Jeff admitted. “It doesn’t seem very stable, though, does it? And why is it flashing all those colors?”

  “The stability is something you must practice yourself,” the elf informed him. “As you master your mana with your will, it will flow more easily, and your spells will be both more effective and more powerful. The trade-off for this is that chaotic mana like this, while harder to control, renews itself faster than mana that is controlled.”

  “Why would that be?” Jeff wondered.

  “Chaos and entropy are always easier than order,” the elf shrugged. “Is it not simpler to fill a chest by haphazardly dumping items into it, rather than carefully placing them within? Of course, that organization makes it much simpler to retrieve what you want when you need it later, but maintaining it requires effort and patience.”

  The elf turned and gestured expansively at the sea of gray around them. “That is not the purpose of our visit today, though,” the elf declared. “Before you can master your mana, you must master your mindscape, young Sorcerer. If you have no control over the self, any control you think you have over others is but illusion.”