The Sorcerer's Path Box Set: Book 1-4

by Brock Deskins

  A brilliant rainbow of colors erupted from his fingertips straight into the faces of the three hoodlums. Carrot stood motionless, his eyes rolling back up into his head until only the whites were showing, Rolly dropped to the ground and lay motionless.

  “My eyes! What did you do to my eyes? I can’t see!” Hugo cried out in alarm and ineffectually lashed out with his knife.

  Hugo blinked rapidly and lunged at Azerick just as Carrot came out of his momentary stupor. Azerick grabbed Hugo by the wrist as the thug blindly flailed at him with the knife. Hugo cried out once again, and the knife fell from his nerveless fingers and dropped to the ground as Azerick sent an electric jolt coursing down his attacker’s arm much like Allister had done to him when they first met, only to a lesser degree.

  The moment Hugo resumed his attack, Carrot’s eyes rolled back down as he shook off his stupor and charged at Rusty. Rusty brought his hands up, shouting out arcane words, and fire leapt from his fingertips into the top of Carrot’s head. Carrot let out a screech of terror so high-pitched only girls under the age of ten could usually hit such a note as his wooly hat and red hair burst into flames.

  Hugo clamored halfway to his feet, grabbed the wakening Rolly under one arm, and tore off out of the alley in a lurching, shambling stumble after the fleeing, flaming Carrot. The crowd parted almost like magic when the screeching Carrot broke out of the end of the side street. Many onlookers pointed and clapped thinking it was part of the show. Azerick and Rusty ran out of the other end and back into the street, the crowd of people thankfully thinning now as most had already made their way to the docks. The two companions slowed once they were free of the crowds and caught their collective breaths.

  “By the god’s, Azerick, I can’t believe that just happened!” Rusty shouted as they came to halt, his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

  “You did well, Rusty. I’ve been fighting those three for years.”

  “I set a guy’s head on fire!”

  “Yes you did. Congratulations, Rusty, you fought off your first bad guy using magic.”

  “Wow, my dad’s never gonna believe this.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The next day, Azerick sat in the classroom with his much younger classmates. A tension of anxiety filled the air as the children looked from one to the other. They did not wait long before the source of their anxiety made its appearance. Travis and his friends strolled into the classroom wearing contemptuous sneers on their faces.

  “All right, kiddies, time to give it up. Let’s have it,” Travis demanded.

  Azerick had gone over this with the kids. They all agreed that if they were going to stand up to their tormentors, they would have to initiate the rebellion themselves and not rely upon him to defend them.

  “We’re not giving you anything. It’s ours, so leave us alone,” Gerard stood and said defiantly.

  Travis and his friends laughed at the young boy who glared at them so boldly. Azerick looked around the room at the frightened faces of the other children and knew he would have to provide a little motivator to get them to back the brave boy.

  “You heard him, Travis. They’re not going to let you push them around anymore, so why don’t you leave them alone?”

  “Do you think he can protect you, is that it? Even if his casting ability wasn’t pathetic, he’s still outnumbered by four to one. Now give us the candy, or you know what’s going to happen," Travis warned ominously.

  From somewhere across the room a girl stood and said no. Immediately, another child stood as well with a cry of no, followed by a chorus of standing children all shouting ‘NO’ with anger gleaming in their defiant eyes.

  “It looks like you are the ones who are outnumbered now, Travis.”

  “Do you really think a bunch of novices can take us on? You’re going to pay for this, peasant,” Travis threatened and looked around the room, glaring at the children who dared to defy him. “Then you will all pay, worse than before.”

  “Do it,” Azerick said in quiet but firm voice.

  The shouts and chanting of young voices filled the room, and brilliant lights erupted into the faces of Travis and his fellow extortionists. Small balls of electrical energy stung them from a dozen different sources. Azerick added his own spell to those of his diminutive allies, and the floor beneath the bullies’ feet was suddenly too slippery to stand on. All four bullies' fell to the ground when they tried to escape the numerous stinging attacks.

  Azerick shoved a writing desk at Travis. It slid across the slick floor and slammed into him, knocking him back down as he tried to get to his feet. Other children started hurling books, quill and scroll cases, and anything else they could get their tiny hands on to enact their revenge against the boys who had tormented them for the last two years.

  Azerick and his miniature minions broke off their attack and bolted from the room en masse; heading for the stairs before Travis and his cohorts could regain their composure.

  “Get up and go after them, you idiots,” Travis commanded, slipping and crawling toward the door. They managed to make it out of the classroom, gained the hallway, and bolted after the fleeing novices as Azerick and the younger students bounded down the stairs.

  The fleeing squad of children ducked into a room at the bottom of the steps as Azerick drew upon the last bit of arcane power he could muster. He repeated the same spell that had caused Travis and his gang to lose their footing in the classroom and waited at the bottom of the steps. He could hear the pounding footsteps coming down the stairs in pursuit and watched as the four poured out onto the landing above.

  “You’re dead, gutter filth!” Travis shouted at him as the boys surged down the stairs after their quarry.

  The charge turned into a tumult as they stepped upon the sabotaged steps below and tumbled into a heap at Azerick's feet.

  “Now!” Azerick shouted at his troops.

  The children came running from the room and fell upon their attackers with a vengeance. Tiny feet kicked out at the struggling, tangled mass of bodies while others bombarded the prone forms with opened bottles of ink.

  “Stop this, stop this at once! Break it up!” came the command of Magus Allison Bauer, Azerick and the children’s instructor.

  She waded into the chaotic mass of children, pulling and pushing the younger children off the bruised, ink-stained, and humiliated group lying on the floor. She dispelled the slippery effect coating the stairs with a simple command and gesture, grabbed Travis and Azerick by the upper arm, and proceeded to frog march them upstairs.

  “The rest of you follow me to the classroom so I can get this sorted out,” She ordered the students.

  She dropped the arms of the two apprehended boys as she surveyed the damage to her classroom, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “What have you all done to my class?”

  “They attacked us, all of them, on his command!” shouted Travis.

  “They came here to bully and extort the younger students. I just told them to defend themselves.”

  “Nonsense, Travis is from a very influential family and would never have to stoop to something so far beneath him. Let us go see the Headmaster and see what he thinks of your slander,” Magus Bauer said. “The rest of you children are to clean up this mess before I return.”

  Once again, Azerick found himself before Headmaster Dondrian. However, this time he was not alone. Seated to the right of the Headmaster sat Magus Allister, a severe and disapproving look upon his countenance. Magus Bauer stood behind the miscreants as they awaited judgment.

  “Now tell us exactly what happened,” Headmaster Dondrian said.

  Travis stepped forward before Azerick had a chance to explain and began to speak. “Sir, my friends and I had gone to see the younger pupils to see how they enjoyed the festival and if they all saw the men on stilts passing out candy. We also thought to offer them some tutoring, but when we asked he attacked us. I guess the younger kids got caught up in the excitement. Maybe they thought it was a game or so
mething, and started casting cantrips and throwing things at us.”

  “Azerick, did you incite the younger pupils to attack Travis and his friends?” the Headmaster asked.

  “Yes, sir, but…”

  “Did you cast an offensive spell at them?”

  “Yes, sir, but…”

  “Did Travis or any of his friends attempt to take anything from the other students?”

  “They were going to.”

  “Are you an augurist, Azerick?”

  “No, sir, but…”

  “Then you cannot tell me what they were going to do. So, on your command you incited several students to attack another student without provocation.” Headmaster Dondrian looked at Travis. “Did you or any of your friends cast an offensive spell or attack any of the other students in any way?”

  “No, sir, we didn’t cast any spells or hit any of them. They’re just little kids, and Azerick was hiding behind them where we couldn’t get to him to try and make him stop,” Travis said, once more using half-truths.

  “Headmaster, they told the kids to make sure they all brought in their candy a few days before the festival, or else.”

  “I was just telling them to look for the stilt walkers because they give out candy, and I didn’t want them to miss it,” Travis readily replied.

  “Ask the other students, they’ll tell you they were bullying them and taking things from them,” Azerick insisted.

  “Of course they will. Azerick is older and they are very impressionable. They look up to him and he uses that to confuse them into mistaking our intentions so that he can remain in control. He’s a dictator and he’s drunk on power. He saw us as a threat to his position. That’s why he attacked us.”

  “I’ve heard enough,” Headmaster Dondrian said. “Azerick, you will be moved to an age appropriate class immediately. You will just have to make an effort on your own to catch up. You will also clean the stables every day after class for the next month. Travis, you and your friends are not go into the novice’s classroom or living area again. Is that understood?”

  All of the boys replied it was and were marched out of the Headmaster’s office. Azerick paused outside the door to collect his thoughts while Travis and his friends went on their way and Magus Bauer returned to her students.

  Azerick started wondering if this was all worth it. Life was almost easier on the streets. He was answerable to no one there; all he had to do was survive. But was surviving living? He loved the feeling of the magic coursing through him and from him when he cast even his meager spells. How much more exciting would it be once he learned to channel even greater power? Would he ever learn how? He loved magic, but the way they were teaching him just felt unnatural to him, like trying to write with his offhand. He heard snickering coming from behind the headmaster’s closed door.

  “I’ll be honest with you, Dondrian, I rather enjoyed seeing that brat, Travis, put in his place. And by a group of first and second year novices at that,” Azerick heard Magus Allister chuckle.

  “The boy certainly has leadership skills and the ability to use what he knows to its maximum potential. However, I am concerned as to his progress.”

  “I think the boy has made terrific progress considering the short length of time he has studied.”

  "Normally I would agree, but when put into perspective your description of his abilities and the speed at which he learned what he knows now, there just does not seem to be any further progression of a measurable quality.”

  “I’m sure it is just temporary. Many students get hung up until they discover their own rhythm and method and not just the mechanics of casting we teach them.” Magus Allister wished he felt as confident as he sounded. In truth, he was completely stumped at his young protégé's lack of improvement.

  “I hope you are right. My reputation is on the line every bit as much as yours, you know. And if he keeps causing trouble with the powerful families of the students, it is going to be very hard to continue to shelter him without good reason,” the Headmaster said dejectedly.

  “Give him more time. We will put him in class with his friend and other students his own age. Perhaps that will help him come along. By the way, did you hear about the incident young Azerick and Franklin got into during the festival?" the Magus asked, a small grin spreading across his wrinkled face.

  “With the street thugs?” Headmaster Dondrian asked.

  “Indeed, a nice bit of magic use there I should say.”

  “Is it true Franklin set a man’s head on fire?”

  “That’s what I heard. Fire always was his forte, you know. It’s surprising he was able to compose himself enough to cast it successfully. Like the novices, it would seem his friend’s presence was enough to give him the confidence he needed.”

  “A born leader,” Headmaster Dondrian mused. “If he ever does come fully into his power, he will certainly be a force to be reckoned with."

  Azerick slowly made his way back to his room, pondering the words of Magus Allister and the Headmaster. He decided to take his punishment and continue his studies. He would work harder and study more to learn everything he could. Learning had always come easy to him, and he would not buckle under pressure the first time a subject actually challenged him.

  Rusty was brewing up some concoction in his alchemic set when he walked into the room. Azerick had told him he could help himself to it as long as he was careful not to damage it.

  “What are working on?” Azerick asked his friend.

  “Well, I was working on the pain potion you made before, but I couldn’t get it right, so I’m making cocoa instead. Want some?”

  “Thanks, I could use it.”

  “You look a bit out of sorts. Is everything okay?"

  “Remember what I told you Travis and his friends were going to do?”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot. What happened?”

  Rusty was rolling on the floor laughing when Azerick described the pandemonium that ensued and how the novices dominated their older and more experienced foes.

  “Now I have to muck out the stables every day after class, but on the bright side they’re moving me to the apprentice’s class so you can help me.”

  “That’s great! I’m sure together we can get you past this block and have you casting new spells in no time.”

  Rusty showed Azerick to his new class the next morning. All of the students were around his age, which made him feel a bit more comfortable until Travis and his friends walked in the room. They shot hate-filled glares at Azerick from their desks a few rows over.

  The teacher came in and started his lecture on magic fundamentals. Azerick was able to comprehend most of what the teacher was talking about and felt comfortable with his new class. However, his next class was in applied magic where he would actually have to practice and cast his spells.

  No matter how the Magus explained it to him, he just could not seem to apply what the mages taught him. Travis laughed at him as many of his spells went awry or just fizzled out to no effect at all.

  He had far better results in his next class. His face lit up the moment he entered the classroom full of glass beakers, stone mortar and pestles, and alchemic glassware of every kind. Azerick already knew most of what the Magus was teaching, so this time it was Azerick helping Rusty with his coursework and laughing at Travis' mistakes.

  Today’s project was to make a thick red smoke used to obscure movements in battle, signal others, or just for putting on displays. Azerick and Rusty burst into a laughing fit when the Magus had to clear the classroom because Travis used skunk moss instead of red creeping moss and filled the room with a noxious green cloud.

  “This, boys and girls, is why it is important to know your ingredients by sight, smell, touch, and taste instead of just relying on the bottle's label,” Magus Morgarum instructed.

  Azerick liked Magus Morgarum, his alchemic instructor, from the start. He was a short pudgy man who always wore a friendly smile. It was obvious he had a passion for alchem
y and enjoyed passing his knowledge on to his students.

  Azerick continued his day attending history, writing, and mathematics classes, all of which he excelled in. Only the applied magic course was holding him back, but that was the most important class to him, and his incomprehension bothered him. He was embarrassed at every failed spell and mistake he made. He dwelled on this as he made his way to stables to start working off his punishment.

  The stables were just as he remembered them, although the first time he was here he had not bothered to notice how much waste the horses produced. One of the stable hands who had been told to expect him and gave Azerick a shovel, showed him where to start shoveling, and where to dump the wheelbarrow when it was full. He could hear the other stable hands working at the far end of the stables and started scooping the horse dung into the wheelbarrow.

  Azerick was pushing his fourth load toward the huge pile behind the stables when his wheelbarrow shifted and spilled out onto the stable corridor floor. With a sigh, he righted the cart and bent down to shovel up the mess.

  As he leaned over his shovel, the entire pile exploded upwards, pummeling him with the semi-hard dung balls. He turned toward the sound of great fits of laughter and saw Travis and his friends pounding their knees and pointing at him. Azerick impotently hurled a horse apple at the group as they walked off still laughing but to no effect. Azerick was glad to be finished for the day and headed back to his room.

  “Oh pew!” Rusty cried out as the dung-spattered Azerick walked in. “What happened? Did you haul the dung in your arms or what?”

  “It was Travis. He did something to make my wheelbarrow tip, and when I bent over to scoop it up the whole pile blew up in my face.”

  “Oh man, I wish I could have seen that!” Rusty said, bursting out into laughter. “That’s a good one.”

  “Hey! Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours of course, but you have to admit it was pretty funny.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Azerick chuckled. “I just hope they’re happy with their revenge and leave me alone now."