by Simon Archer
After a delightful dinner, I bid farewell to my companions and made my way across the training grounds to the library that I had been using for my own private studies. It was small, far smaller than any of the other libraries I’d seen, and was full of spell scrolls for the most advanced spells known to the kingdom elves. The walls were painted a deep, bright blue which matched the color of my mage’s robes.
Portraits of the realm’s nine previous ultimate magi adorned the walls. I was told that one of me would be making an appearance soon, as the royal family was currently in the process of selecting an artist for the task. I was privately glad it hadn’t been made yet. Studying under a giant painting of myself would just be weird.
I settled down at a small, old wooden desk adorned with ornate carvings around its sides. The carvings appeared to be representations of popular spells, long tendrils of what I assumed to be the familiar golden light etched into the wood. I pulled some scrolls out of the desk’s interior that I had left there before my trip back to the royal castle, along with a long white quill and a small flask of ink, and got back to work on my custom spells.
I hummed as I worked, and small flashes of golden light appeared around my head, adding some character to the small room. I was even happier now that I was able to create my own spells, and I felt a lot freer. Being able to make my own music however I liked appealed to the artist in me. Through a combination of my understanding of music theory and the intention I had for each given spell, my custom spells had turned out pretty well so far, as evidenced by the forges’ successful implementation of them.
Once I’d finished my first draft of the spell I was working on, I studied it for several moments to commit it to memory, and then rose to stand on one end of a small mage’s circle next to my desk. The circle was illuminated only by the candlelight from my desktop, giving the area a cozy quality. Once in position in the mage’s circle, I closed my eyes, held out my hands, and felt my magical golden cello materialize in my left hand, with the bow appearing alongside it in my right hand. I sat down, knowing that the air beneath me would have solidified by now, placed my bow to the string, and began to play.
Given my advanced knowledge of music theory, I made a point of making my own spells more complex and interesting than the others that had been written before I came along. I did make sure not to make the spells for the forges too complicated, given that the elves working there needed to be able to use them quickly and easily. With these new spells for the forest elves, I knew I would be the only one using them for now, so I went all out. My hope was that, by the time kids like Cosmo were grown up, they would be able to learn and even create these more complex spells. I also was hopeful that creating more complex spells would enable me to use magic for more complex tasks, and that I would be able to do more than one thing with any given spell.
As I played, a large ball of golden light appeared in the mage’s circle in front of me, rotating as if on an axis. I focused intently on the light, willing it to shape in the way I wanted it to. Slowly, the ball shifted into various shapes: arms, a hammer and other tools, large sheets of light. I rotated through them until I decided upon a form, several pairs of arms carrying various tools to create treehouses for the forest elves. I played through the spell a few more times until I was confident that the magic understood what I wanted and would associate this particular form with this particular musical piece, which was a bright, cheerful song in the key of C Major.
By the time I was finished, I was exhausted. Though I never felt exhausted while I was practicing magic or creating spells, when I was done, the fatigue would wash over me, tiring all of my muscles and causing my eyelids to droop. It was a surefire way to fall asleep when I wanted to, and it was kind of a satisfying feeling, like how you feel after finishing a really intense workout.
I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow before I even got a chance to take off my robes, or maybe even sooner, and slept straight through the night.
7
The next morning, I met my friends in the dining hall for a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sugary syrup, and bacon and eggs. I piled my plate high with the pancakes, still drained of energy from the night before. Creating spells took even more out of me than practicing spells others had written, but I woke up feeling refreshed, but hungry, from a great night’s sleep. I sat down between Godfried and Bernsten.
“How went your studies last night, my friend?” Bernsten asked, greeting me with a customary clap between the shoulder blades.
“Pretty well,” I said through a mouthful of sweet, delicious pancakes covered in powdered sugar. Then, when I’d swallowed and wiped my mouth with a golden cloth napkin, “I created a spell for making treehouses in the forest. I’ll try it out when we get there.”
“That is excellent news,” Marinka said. “I am certain this will be a great help to them.”
“How do you create your own spells?” Godfried asked curiously.
“Well, I use my knowledge of music theory to create my own pieces of music. Then, I play the piece and am able to select what I want the magic to do when it recognizes that specific piece of music,” I explained, relating the process I had gone through in the library the previous evening.
“How do you decide what music to use?” Godfried asked, reaching out to dab some pepper on his eggs.
“Well, I just kind of pick what feels right,” I said, trying to find the words to describe it. “Like for this spell, I knew I was trying to do something important and good for the forest elves, so I picked a cheerful key signature and set of chords.”
“Is that why the combat spells sound a bit sadder?” Bernsten asked, undoubtedly thinking of the harmonic and diatonic scales associated with the intermediate offensive combat spells.
“Probably,” I said. “The combat spells are mostly in minor key signatures and have kind of weird chords, while spells for doing other things like cooking and building stuff tend to be more cheerful. It’s fitting in a way, I guess.” My companions nodded in understanding.
“What will you work on next?” Godfried asked.
“I’ll probably do one for hollowing out the trees to make shelter since that’s kind of similar to making the treehouses,” I said, moving on from my pancakes to my bacon and eggs. “Then I’ll probably do some hunting and gathering stuff. And when we get to the mountains, I’ll work on spells to help us survive there.”
“That is an excellent idea,” Godfried said, nodding. “It gives me comfort to know that you have such skills to help us on this journey into uncharted territory.” I looked at him with surprise. This was high praise coming from Godfried.
“I agree,” Marinka said, smiling. “I am much more confident knowing that you will be with us, Leo.”
“Indeed,” Nadeine agreed. “If there is any mage who would be prepared to journey into the mountains, it is you.”
“And if there is any team prepared to go with him, it is us,” Bernsten boasted, taking a swig of his orange juice as if it were beer.
“I agree,” I grinned, laughing at Bernsten. “I’m glad you guys will be there with me.” We finished our meal in a jovial conversation.
“Well, Godfried,” Nadeine said when she rose to head to training, shooting the younger elf a pointed look. “Are you ready for this morning?”
“I believe so,” Godfried sighed.
“Apology?” I asked, leaning into Marinka.
“Indeed,” she said dryly. “We shall see how he fares.”
“Well, let me know how it goes,” I chuckled as I headed off to the main magi training room for the kids’ session.
The kids did even better today, and they were able to perform all kinds of basic spells masterfully. Now that they’d advanced to the point of using their magic on actual objects, it wouldn’t be long until they were learning new spells left and right and casting them almost immediately after memorization.
“Great job today, guys,” I said when we were finished for the day. “Now I don’t kn
ow if I’ll be back tomorrow, or when I’ll be back after that, but you guys need to promise me to keep practicing, okay?” I met each kid’s eyes in turn, and they nodded.
“Are you going to be okay, Leo?” Cosmo asked, his bottom lip quivering slightly.
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine, Cosmo,” I said, giving the little boy a warm smile. Then, leaning down to meet him at eye level, “Just make sure you practice, okay? Dangerous stuff is happening, as you know. It’s important that you know how to defend yourselves.”
“Okay, Leo,” Cosmo said, but he still looked scared.
“Don’t worry, though,” I said, standing to address the whole group again. “You’re all going to be fine. So are your families. My team and I are going to find this guy and destroy him. He’ll never make it here if I can help it.” On that note, the kids dispersed, and I ran a weary hand through my hair before turning to rejoin my companions in the dining hall.
“How much do they know?” I asked Siara as she, Anil, and I made our way to lunch.
“The children?” Siara asked, and I nodded. “Too much. Children are very intuitive creatures, far more so than their adult counterparts. Even if no one has told them specifically of your quest, they will have picked up on it by now.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, running a hand through my hair again.
“Will you and your companions be leaving tomorrow, Leo Hayden?” Anil asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said thoughtfully. “It depends, I guess, on how well they do in practice today. I know they want to have at least a decent grasp on offensive combat spells before we leave.”
“I am certain they will do well today under your instruction,” Siara said kindly before she and Anil broke off to go eat with the children again.
“I believe they could use some supervision at this time,” Anil said as they turned to go, and I nodded in agreement. I walked over to join my companions, who were brooding at our usual table. Not a good sign. We’d been getting along better that morning, but based on my friends’ body language, things had not gone well in the military’s morning practice.
“Uh-oh, what happened?” I asked as I approached them after grabbing a steak sandwich and some potatoes from the buffet. I sat down between Nadeine and Bernsten. Godfried was leaning over the table with his head in his hands, and Marinka had a comforting hand around his shoulders.
“He did very well,” Marinka said, not taking her eyes off her cousin.
“Then why so dour?” I asked, glancing at Godfried’s pained expression.
“I am afraid the other soldiers did not take our young friend’s apology as sincere,” Bernsten explained, looking at Godfried with concern.
“Oh,” was all I could muster.
“They all hate me,” Godfried muttered, his tone lacking its usual confidence.
“That is… not true,” Marinka said hesitantly, looking around at the rest of us with a panicked expression on her face. Of course, we all knew they probably did hate him.
“Yes, it is,” Godfried said. “I have experienced it my whole life. They are jealous of my abilities.”
“I… would not draw that conclusion, Godfried,” Marinka said, her tone stern now. “They are frustrated with your behavior. You need to take ownership of that.”
“I thought that I did just that this morning,” Godfried said, still not raising his head from his hands.
“And so you did,” Marinka said slowly, searching carefully for the right words. “And your apology was excellent. But as their reaction demonstrates, it was not enough. You must earn back their trust and loyalty with your actions, not your words. That is how a true leader responds to such circumstances.” Godfried nodded.
“I understand,” he said. “But how do I do that?” Marinka didn’t seem to have an answer.
“You fall in line and do as they tell you, with deference to their abilities and superior experience,” Nadeine said. “Refrain from offering your opinion for now. You will earn back their respect. Your family and your title will ensure as much.”
“Very well,” Godfried said, raising his head finally and picking at his potatoes with his fork. “It appears I still have much to learn after all.”
“That is not unusual given your age,” Bernsten said, trying to help. Then, noticing Godfried’s expression, “Not that you are too young to be here. You have earned your place with your skills.”
“I believe what Sir Bernsten means to say is that we are never done learning, cousin,” Marinka said, giving his shoulders one last squeeze before returning to her own lunch. “And you are no exception. Perhaps you have even more to learn because of your advanced skills, not in spite of it. Your responsibilities will always be greater.”
“I suppose this is true,” Godfried said, but where I had expected that reminder of his superiority to cheer him up, his shoulders sagged, and he grimaced noticeably. I was reminded once again of the child prodigies I’d known back on Earth who had grown to hate music. Maybe Godfried secretly felt the same way. His father certainly put a lot of pressure on him.
“So, how was your practice otherwise?” I asked, almost afraid to ask.
“Good,” Nadeine said. “We worked on memorizing those offensive combat spells for this afternoon. I believe we are ready.”
“That’s good,” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich, which was growing cold.
“How was your practice?” she asked.
“Okay,” I said. “The kids are getting nervous about everything.”
“Indeed,” Nadeine said, nodding solemnly. “As well they should be.”
“I don’t know, they’re just kids,” I said. “I hate to see them all freaked out.”
“The hope is that their fear will spur them to develop their abilities more quickly and learn to defend themselves and their families,” Marinka said. I nodded.
“That’s what I told them to do,” I said. “And I think they will. They’re good kids.”
“I only wish more of our people had traveled here to work with you, Leo,” Marinka said. “Now, we will be leaving soon, and they will not have the opportunity to advance as quickly.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t have a monopoly on understanding music theory anymore. The kids I’ve worked with will go home and teach the other kids they know and help the older elves work on their magic. It’ll have a chain effect throughout the kingdom.”
“This is how it is supposed to work,” Nadeine said, nodding. “Our people are better equipped to defend themselves now than they perhaps have ever been before. And they still have their swords.”
“And it will be no matter,” Bernsten added. “For our quest will be successful and our enemy destroyed.”
“I will raise my glass to that,” Nadeine said, and then, she did so. We toasted to that sentiment and headed off to the main magi training room for our afternoon practice.
“I hear you’ve been working on your offensive combat spells,” I said when all of my adult students, plus Siara and Anil, had gathered in the room. “Ready to try them out?”
They nodded in response and took their positions in the mage’s circles throughout the room.
“Alright, whenever you’re ready,” I instructed when everyone was in position. “Just make sure not to step in anyone else’s circle if you don’t want your head chopped off.” There were some laughs at that, and then the sound of over a hundred elves humming filled the room.
The offensive combat spells, as Bernsten had noted the previous evening, sounded a bit darker and eerier than the other spells. I had started helping these students learn them weeks ago, but it had taken quite some time for them to get the hang of the different notation and tune.
Slowly, the forms of giant weapons made out of golden light appeared in the mage’s circles. Many of them sputtered in and out of existence as the elves struggled to concentrate and keep them fully formed. Nadeine managed to keep hers alive for several moments until it disappeared in a puff of golden
smoke.
Many of the weapons were also strange, distorted versions of what they should be. There was a mace with only one spike, a sword that had a hilt bigger than its blade, and even a series of daggers all facing different directions, meaning that when they tried to attack their unknown enemy, they ended up attacking each other instead. It was a strange scene, and many of the elves stopped singing before the spell was over.
“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands together to get everyone’s attention once all of the weapons were gone, leaving only a few trails of golden smoke in their wake. “I know that wasn’t what you all probably wanted to happen, but it was actually really good. Most of you were able to make something happen. These spells are really hard, by far the hardest ones we’ve done so far. It’ll take some time. Let’s break for a few minutes, get some water, and then try again.”
“This was not an encouraging experience,” Nadeine said as she and my other companions walked up to me during the break.
“I know, but I meant what I said,” I replied, grabbing a bottle of water from a stack nearby. “It wasn’t so bad. And you did really, really well. You almost got it, and your sword looked just like it was supposed to.”
“That is kind of you, Leo,” Nadeine said, reaching for a bottle of her own. “But while it may have looked as it should, it did not last very long.”
“You’ll get there,” I said. “Just have to keep trying.”
“What about me?” Bernsten asked, grinning mischievously. “I am on my way to becoming an ultimate mage myself, no?” We all laughed at that. Bernsten’s sword had been the size of a matchbox and had been facing the wrong direction to boot.
“Maybe in a few hundred years,” I chuckled.
“I will take that,” Bernsten shrugged.
“Alright, let’s get back at it,” I called after a few more moments, clapping my hands together again to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s try again. See if we can make better weapons that last longer this time. It doesn’t have to be perfect yet.”
