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

by Brock Deskins

  His remark earned him a few more kicks before they left him lying in a darkened alcove. It was hard to keep away from such places, as there were a lot of darkened halls and alcoves. The Academy was huge, but it boasted only a few hundred students. He read in one of the history archives that it once had an attendance of well over a thousand several centuries ago, but for the last few hundred years, fewer people were being born with the talent to become wizards, and sorcerers were nearly extinct in the northern lands. He picked himself up and limped back to his room.

  “Got you again, huh?” Rusty observed.

  “Yeah, I have to give them credit, they are getting better. I think Hugo would even let them tag along with him and his pals.”

  “This can’t go on, you know. Something has to be done to end this.”

  “It will. When one of is dead it will be over. In fact, Travis said this was the year I could leave on my own before he would kill me.”

  “You have to go to the Headmaster and have him put a stop to this. Travis will kill you if he gets the chance. You know he will get away with it too!”

  “I will just have to make sure I don’t give him the chance then,” Azerick said confidently.

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “It will be a lot harder for him to kill me without this,” Azerick replied and pulled Travis’ wand from his sleeve.

  “How did you get that?”

  “I swiped it when they jumped me.”

  “When he finds out you took his wand he will kill you for sure,”

  “He won’t find out, I’m going to make sure he gets it back.”

  “If you’re going to give it back why did you bother taking it in the first place?”

  “Remember his chair leg?” Azerick asked as he began casting his sundering spell on it.

  “Do you think it will work?” asked Rusty.

  “I think so, although it is harder to set on a magical item. I can feel it resisting me. Ah there, got it. Well, time to go put this back where I found it.”

  With his work done, he limped back down The Academy halls until he found the site of his most recent fight and carefully placed the wand behind a pedestal supporting a bust of some long-forgotten wizard.

  “Where is my wand?” Travis demanded the next morning at breakfast.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about, Travis,” Azerick replied.

  “I know you took it. you must have taken it when I was pummeling you yesterday.”

  “Did you try looking for it there? Maybe you dropped it.”

  “You better hope I find it, peasant, or I swear you will not live out the week,” Travis promised before stalking off toward the site of their latest battle.

  Winter festival came and went with almost an undeclared cease-fire. Azerick had to wonder whether Travis had given up trying to drive him off or if this was the lull before the storm.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Azerick, did you hear?” Rusty asked excitedly.

  “Hear what?”

  “We’re going to have a big ball before the summer break! I’m going to bring Colleen so you can meet her.”

  “That sounds great, Rusty. It sounds like fun.”

  “You don’t sound too excited. What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t have anything to wear to something like that. It will show that I don’t really belong here even more than I do already.”

  “I have lots of clothes. You can borrow some of mine. You’re not as tall as I am, but they should be fine with a bit of hemming,” Rusty offered.

  “Thanks, Rusty, but I insist on wearing my own underwear. I’ve seen what you do to yours.”

  “Very funny, maybe you should just go in your underwear then!”

  Azerick and Travis rarely crossed paths before summer’s start, but instead of appreciating the relative peace, their seeming reduction of hostilities only set Azerick’s nerves more on edge. He tried to forget about his anxiety as the day of the ball was upon them. Rusty gave Azerick a white, silk shirt with a crimson, crushed velvet doublet and black trews with a red embroidered pattern down the outside of each leg. Rusty wore a brilliant yellow shirt with lace cuffs under a royal blue doublet and a pair of blue trews with gold thread embroidery.

  “Wow, you almost look like a gentleman,” Rusty teased.

  “Be careful, I have a reputation to protect.”

  They made their way to the formal banquet hall where The Academy set up for the ball. Rusty went to find Colleen amongst the huge crowd of girls invited to attend from an all girl’s school. The ball was open to all three branches of The Academy, which made for a rather good mix.

  Azerick went to the long table covered by dozens of trays of small finger foods and two massive crystal punch bowls. He reached for a glass and the large, glass ladle resting in the crystal bowl at the same time another hand grasped for the handle.

  “Oh, pardon me, sir,” begged a delicate feminine voice as the hand withdrew.

  “No please, it I who must beg pardon from a fair maiden,” Azerick replied using charm he did not know he possessed. “Please, allow me to get that for you.”

  “Thank you kindly, my gallant sir,” the young woman replied with a giggle.

  Azerick filled the proffered glass with the soft, red beverage before filling his own.

  “My name is Azerick, by the way.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Azerick, I’m Loranna,” the lovely blond girl answered and offered her hand.

  Azerick gently took her hand by the fingertips, bent at the waist, and brought his lips to within a whispers brush of contact.

  “Which school do you attend here, Sir Azerick?”

  “I am in the Magus Academy, Lady Loranna.”

  “Oh pooh, let’s drop the formals shall we, Azerick, I find it so tedious. I hope you don’t think me too presumptuous.”

  “Not at all, Loranna, I thank you for your forthrightness. Formalities are something I am definitely not used to.”

  “So you are a wizard then?”

  “Basically. I’m actually a sorcerer.”

  “A sorcerer, what does that mean?”

  Before he could answer, the sudden appearance of the last person Azerick wanted to see tonight interrupted them both.

  “Forgive me for my tardiness, Lady Loranna, but there are so many people here. Fortunately, your beauty glows like a star amongst the blackness even in this crowded room. Let us be away from here. You are far too noble to be conversing with a peasant,” Travis said with a viperous tongue.

  “Sir Azerick was very much the gentleman, I assure you, Sir Travis.”

  “I once saw a play where a man played a very convincing King Thomas, but I assure you he was no royal. A commoner in velvet is still a commoner,” Travis explained in his most pompous voice, guiding Loranna away with a small push to the small of her back.

  She glanced briefly over her shoulder with a look of apology on her face.

  “How dare you presume to speak to my date, peasant?” Travis hissed once Loranna was out of earshot.

  “We were just talking, Travis, let it go.”

  “Insult me again with your presence at your own peril. Remember what I told you at the beginning of the year. Time is almost up.”

  “Yes, you have been promising my death for quite some time now, haven’t you? It seems to me you are all threat, or you would have done something more than a few childish pranks and weak drubbings,” Azerick shot back, sounding bored with all of the blustering.

  “You will regret this night, peasant, I promise you!” Travis hissed then stalked off after his date.

  Azerick knew he should not have pressed him, but he was tired of putting up with the constant threats. Besides, Master Devlin had declared that his skills allowed him to advance to the rank of journeyman, and Azerick was confident he could defend himself against Travis and maybe even his friends too.

  “Hey Azerick, this is Colleen. Colleen, this is my best friend, Azerick.
”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Azerick,” Colleen greeted and performed a small curtsy.

  “The pleasure is mine. Rusty talks about you all the time. You are very lucky. Rusty is a good man.”

  “Oh, I’m the lucky one, Azerick, believe me,” Rusty insisted.

  “I know; I was just trying to be polite. She is far too pretty for you.”

  “Very funny, true, but funny.”

  “We’re going to go dance, you should find someone to dance with too,” his friend suggested.

  “I will. I may even steal Colleen from you for a dance or two,” Azerick promised as Rusty led his girl away.

  Azerick did manage a few dances but mostly he just walked around, speaking briefly to a few people who had heard of the sorcerer and were curious about him. He thought about his studies and Travis’ threats. He knew this was not the place for him, but he needed to continue his studies under Master Devlin.

  He decided to get away from the noise and the crowd by taking a walk in the enormous garden behind the Magus Academy’s main building. He was enjoying the cool evening air when a muffled cry a short distance away broke the tranquility of the garden. Azerick threaded his way through the maze of hedgerows until reached a small clearing. Even in the wan moonlight, he could clearly see the look of surprise on Travis and his friends’ faces.

  Azerick quickly took in the scene and deduced what was happening. He saw Loranna pinned under Travis’ weight with his hand covering her mouth, her dress torn, and tears streaming down her face. Travis’ friends were a short distance away, whether as voyeurs, lookouts, or simply waiting their turn he knew not and cared even less.

  Fury, like the fierce rage he had felt that day in class when he had nearly killed Travis, inundated his body.

  “Get him!” Travis commanded.

  The three young men charged the interloper. Azerick raised his hand, and in the blink of an eye, sent three magic bolts flying from his fingertips, one lancing into each of the attackers.

  Azerick took advantage of their shock and pain of being hit by the bolts to cast a couple defensive spells on himself. The familiar shimmer of magical armor surrounded him while the second spell produced a near invisible globe of defensive energy to block or reduce the damage from lesser spells.

  He heard Travis command Loranna not to move. The weight of the threat, as well as her own terror, kept her pinned in place. All she could manage to do was sit up and scoot backward until her back pressed against a hedge, her wide eyes looking on in terror. Travis joined the fight just as his friends regained their feet.

  “You have no chance, peasant. Leave now, say nothing of what you saw, or I will kill you. I may even be generous enough to allow you to stay in this school,” Travis offered.

  “If you were really certain of your chances of beating me, you would not bother to try and make deals. It is not in your character to deal when you can just take. What’s the matter, Travis, did you not study your little recipe book today? I guess you figured you were man enough to rape a girl with just your scumbag friends to help you that you didn’t need to prepare,” Azerick deduced. “Here’s a deal for you. Go tell the Headmaster what you did and tried to do, leave this school, and never return.”

  “Are you joking? Do you know who my father is? I can do anything I want, take anything I want, and no one can do anything about it. Like I told her, no one is going to believe anyone over my word, especially when I have three witnesses who will corroborate anything I say.”

  “You’re wrong. I can, and I will do something about it if no one else will.”

  “Then you can die here,” he snarled and began casting.

  Azerick saw Travis and all three of his friends reach into a pocket, pull out what he could only assume was a reagent of some kind, and began casting. He prepared a retaliatory strike of his own. Travis completed his spell first, and Azerick braced himself for the impacts of the magical bolts.

  His shield stripped the magical projectiles of much of their power, but what got through was still excruciatingly painful. He maintained his focus and completed his spell an instant before the other three student mages. He sent another spread of bolts to strike each one again. Being unshielded, they took the full force of each bolt. Coupled with the pain of the first salvo Azerick struck them with, their concentration was broken, and each one lost control of their pending spells, and the gathered energy dissipated harmlessly into the air.

  This new source of agony was too much for them, and they toppled to the ground, writhing in pain. Travis was already partway through another casting when Azerick started to prepare his next spell. He knew Travis would launch his next assault before he could finish. Azerick spared part of his focus to try to ascertain what spell his foe would hit him with next.

  He recognized the weave before Travis was halfway through finishing it. Azerick braced himself for Travis’ second salvo, knowing that he could not dodge the attack. He was struck by two more bolts, feeling fortunate once again that he had the foresight to cast his ward no matter how minimal the protection. He bore through the pain again and advanced on his nemesis, hand outstretched before him. Travis knew he could not prepare another spell in time even if he had one ready, which he did not, so he drew his wand, ready to release its fury.

  “Give it up, Travis, stop now. You will not even be able to utter the command word to trigger your wand you think makes you so powerful. Your friends took two bolts each and look at them. I have three ready to release on you with a thought, and you are unprotected. You might live, but you might not. I nearly killed you before; don’t make me do it again,” urged the young sorcerer.

  “The only reason you beat me was because I wasn’t prepared. If I had known I would have to fight you tonight, I would have beaten you!” Travis seethed, his face flushing a deep crimson.

  “You mean all four of you may have. That is the only way you have ever beaten me. It takes four of you so-called nobles to take on one peasant.”

  “I can beat you! Meet me tomorrow night when I am ready if you are not a coward. You can even have her,” he sneered, looking at the weeping Loranna.

  “You want to duel? Fine, then it is over. If I win, you leave me alone forever. If you win, I’ll leave the school.”

  “Fine, meet me behind the wooded hill at the far side of the Martial Academy’s maneuver training ground,” Travis challenged.

  Travis pulled and kicked his friends to their feet and stalked off defeated. Azerick went over to Loranna and helped her stand. She fell into his arms, clutched the front of his doublet, and buried her face into the crushed velvet, sobbing.

  “It’s all right, they’re gone. They can’t hurt you now.”

  “I don’t understand, he was so polite and such a gentleman. He was a noble. Why would he do that?” she sobbed.

  “A person is not born with true nobility. I have seen more nobility in a man without the coin to buy bread than I have seen in some of the wealthiest and highest born people of this city.”

  “Thank you for saving me. He called you a peasant and that your mother was a, was a…, but you are the gallant one. He is just a pig dressed in silk and velvet!”

  “Come, I will walk you back to the Ball.”

  Azerick walked her back to the main hall and left Loranna with friends while he went to contemplate what to do next. Thankfully, he did not run into Travis or his group while walking the halls. He decided he would talk to Master Devlin about what had happened. He climbed the familiar stairs to his Master’s rooms in the tower, rehearsing in his mind what he would say.

  He reached the top of the stairs and was about to knock on the door when he heard voices coming from the other side. He paused, not intentionally eavesdropping but trying to decide whether he should interrupt or not. What he heard from the snatches of conversation he picked up made him hesitate and listen.

  “And of course your assistance in helping my patron locate and possibly retrieve these artifacts would be greatly appreciated,
” an unfamiliar voice said from beyond the door.

  “It is my understanding that trafficking in artifacts of power is highly illegal in your kingdom, is it not?” he heard Devlin ask.

  “The King is bastard born and unfit to sit the throne. Your kingdom has a rich history and a proud lineage in its leader, and we ask for nothing less.”

  “What you say is true. I assume compensation for such a risk is equally great?”

  “My patron is very generous in rewarding those who are successful, but very intolerant of those who are not.”

  Azerick could not believe what he was hearing. His own master was betraying the King, betraying him, and to the same people he was certain were tied to his father’s murder. He fled down the stairs as fast as he could go, his mind reeling from the implications of what he just heard.

  Azerick stopped at the foot of the stairs as anger pushed away the surprise and hurt of betrayal. I will go back up the stairs and kill them both or die trying! he thought and turned around to mount the stairs once more.

  He paused and forced himself to focus just as his traitorous master had taught him when casting spells. Losing his focus now would get him killed as sure as a lightning bolt to the head, and that is what he would get, or worse, if he tried to challenge Devlin. He knew he would never be able to overcome or even surprise the powerful sorcerer.

  Maybe I should flee The Academy. No, I will learn everything I can from Master Devlin. I will watch him, and maybe I can get some answers from him. But could he still study under him knowing he was linked to the people he wanted dead? He decided to wait and give it more thought. Acting rashly would only hasten defeat. Besides, he had a duel tomorrow, and he would not let Travis say he was a coward by not showing.

  He went back to his room. Rusty was had not returned yet, and Azerick figured he was probably canoodling with Colleen somewhere. He lay down on his bed and went over everything in his mind before falling asleep.

  Azerick woke up at the sound of the morning bell calling everyone to break their fast. Rusty was on top of his bed, snoring away, the smell of Colleen’s perfume still clinging to him. Azerick was hungry, but instead of eating with the rest of the students, he snuck through the kitchens and pilfered a couple rounds of bread, cheese, and smoked meat. He was sure Rusty would appreciate something to eat when he woke up and found he had missed morning meal call. It was still more than either of them could eat, but he felt the need to be prepared.