Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

by Thompson, J. J.

  “Never, master. I am sworn to your service of my own free will. Betrayal is impossible for me. Even if I was ordered by my lord to do it, I would not. Although disobedience would result in my destruction.”

  “Well, thanks. That's reassuring.” Simon sighed loudly. “But I'll worry about that stuff some other day. Right now, can you at least think of a way for me to mark the buckle myself?”

  “Oh yes, master. That is simplicity itself.”

  “It is? Not to me.”

  “Wait a moment, master and I will fetch what you'll need.”

  Kronk turned and hopped off of the table and quickly tapped his way to the cellar stairs and disappeared below. Simon stared after him for a moment and then shivered. The room was cooling off in the late afternoon. The rain was still falling steadily and the air was damp.

  He got up, grabbed the metal poker and pushed around the embers in the fireplace. Then he carefully added two small logs and watched until they began to burn. The pile of wood was getting low and he made a mental note to add to it from the woodpile out back.

  He sat down again and waited for Kronk.

  The elemental returned after a few minutes holding some things. He hopped up to the tabletop and showed them to Simon, who looked at them curiously.

  “This is a steel spike, master. You have several dozen left over from the tower's construction and I've saved them in case we needed to reinforce some of the beams one day.”

  Simon glanced over his head at the heavy wooden beams that supported the upper floor and nodded silently.

  “And this leather strapping I cut from the bolt of leather that you used to make your rain cloak.”

  Simon took it and stared at the material.

  “Okay. So what am I supposed to do with this stuff?”

  Kronk tilted his head and gave Simon a puzzled look.

  “Wrap the leather around the shaft of the spike and then use your power to heat the metal.”

  Kronk turned the spike over in his hands.

  “This metal can take a lot of heat before warping, master. It should serve as a tool to use on the buckle.”

  Simon took the spike from him and examined it thoughtfully.

  “Um, thanks. But Kronk, I don't think I have a spell to heat metal. Maybe if I just toss it in the fire?” And Simon nodded at the fireplace.

  “Not hot enough,” Kronk answered with a quick head shake. “And you do not need a spell, master. Just use the power as you do to ignite the wood for the fire or the wick of a candle. You will have to hold on to the spike until it is very hot indeed, which is why you will need to use the leather to protect your hand.”

  “Use the power.” Simon said to himself.

  He'd never thought to use raw magic without a spell to shape and guide it. The idea was intriguing.

  He wrapped the leather around the spike, picked up the buckle and stood up.

  “Thanks a lot, my friend. I'll give it a shot and see if I can make it work.”

  “I am sure you will, master,” Kronk told him with certainty.

  Simon grinned at his tone and headed upstairs.

  Back in his study, Simon closed the door and the shutters on the window. If Kronk thought that it was so important to keep the whole thing a secret, then he'd make sure no one could watch him, unlikely as it seemed.

  He lit the candles on the desk and on two of the four holders on the walls and then settled in his chair and examined the steel spike.

  The sharp piece of metal was about six inches long and half an inch thick and came to a point. Simon turned over the buckle and traced his true name invisibly across it with the spike.

  Yup, it would work, if he could heat the metal enough to mark the heavy brass.

  He thought about what Kronk had suggested. Use the power of magic to heat the steel the way he used it to light a candle. Sounded easy but was it? What the heck did that even mean? He didn't even know how he started fires. He'd only begun to do it a few weeks ago and the first time had been a fluke. He chuckled for a moment as he remembered.

  He'd been reading late in the day and the room had become too dark for him to see the writing on the page. Simon forgot what book he'd been deep into, but he had sat back in exasperation at the thought that he'd have to go downstairs and ignite a candle in the fireplace so that he'd have some light. He'd glared at the candle on the desk and suddenly it had burst into flame. He had almost fallen out of his chair.

  And from then on he had been able to light the candles and the kindling in the fireplace. But heating steel? How did that work?

  He wrapped the leather piece around the shaft of the spike and then sat back with a sigh of resignation and stared at it.

  Concentrate, Simon, he thought. Think of it glowing with heat.

  Certain that it would take a long time to warm up, if it did, Simon dropped the spike on the desk as the length of steel instantly became red-hot. A smell of singed wood and leather and a puff of smoke rose from the wooden desktop.

  Holy crap, he thought as he stared at the cooling metal. That was...scary.

  He let the metal cool down and sat staring at the black mark on the desk. Was he becoming more 'magical', whatever that meant? Or just better at channeling the power? Either way, he realized that he now had another way of using magic besides just through spells. He'd have to consider how to use it in everyday life beyond just lighting candles.

  Simon flexed his shoulders and picked up the now-cooled spike and wrapped it with the leather again. He grabbed the buckle in his left hand and prepared to burn his true name into the metal.

  And then he hesitated, Kronk's words echoing in his mind.

  What if, some day in the future, an elemental he summoned did indeed steal the belt from him. That would apparently weaken him. But there was something that Kronk hadn't said, whether on purpose or not.

  If his buckle was stolen and the elemental then read his name, their leader would have power over Simon. Perhaps great power.

  He dropped the spike and the buckle and jumped to his feet. Hadn't he read something about that in passing?

  Simon opened the door and hurried downstairs. Kronk was standing in front of the fire, steaming a bit in the damp air but looking as if he was enjoying the warmth.

  He looked up as Simon clattered down the stairs.

  “Is something wrong, master?” he asked in surprise.

  “Nope. No problem. I just wanted to check something in Daniel's journal.”

  He grabbed it off of the table, gave Kronk a quick smile and hurried back upstairs.

  Back at his desk, Simon flipped through the book. Where had he seen that entry? Finally he found the paragraph that had been poking at his mind. He read through it carefully.

  'Names are tricky things,' he read. 'I can find no definitive reason why knowing someone's true name is so powerful, but the reality is that this knowledge can be fatal in the wrong hands. Legend is rife with tales of wizards whose magic was turned against them to horrible results when their enemies used this knowledge. All I know is that letting others know your true name is very often a death sentence.'

  Simon read it twice and then sat back and considered the implications of what he was doing.

  Kronk would never betray him, of that he was certain. But if he was right, then the leader of the earth elementals already knew that Simon planned to cut his name into the belt buckle. Would that being use it against him? How did he know? But what else could he do?

  He put the journal aside and picked up the spike and buckle again with a sigh. He looked between them, a ghost of an idea forming in his mind. He frowned at the thought and then shrugged and watched as the spike began to glow again.

  About thirty minutes later, Simon came limping down the stairs, cursing under his breath and carrying Daniel's book in his hand.

  Kronk stared at him as he slowly crossed the room, tossed the book carelessly on the kitchen table and filled the kettle with water. He groaned as he walked carefully to the firepla
ce and hung it over the fire.

  “What is it, master?” Kronk asked him as Simon collapsed on to a chair.

  “I stubbed my frigging foot on the door-jam on the way down,” Simon told him, scowling. He looked down at his right foot. “Maybe I should wear shoes around instead of socks. Damn it, this body is clumsy.”

  He watched the kettle slowly heat up with a grumpy expression on his face.

  Kronk tapped over and hopped up on the table.

  “Did you manage to complete your task, master?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I wrote on the buckle,” Simon said with a frown. “I had to wait for the metal to cool down before I could wear it though. Then I realized that I'm going to have to wear the thing or carry it around with me forever. That may end up being a bit inconvenient. Ah well.”

  He stood up painfully, made some tea and collapsed into his chair again.

  “Any word from Aeris yet?”

  “No master, but I'd guess that he will be away for at least a day, perhaps longer. The cleric may want to discuss the attack on the human settlement at length.”

  “Right.” He sipped some tea. “How did things go with the wall?”

  Kronk looked pleased with himself.

  “Very well, master,” he told Simon. “I have deepened the footing all around the perimeter and increased the density of the stone. Not to brag, but I cannot imagine anything that could easily breech the barrier now.”

  “Awesome, my friend. Well done.”

  Kronk glowed with pride at Simon's praise.

  Simon reached over and picked up the journal. He glanced at two of the candles on the table and lit them without a thought. Then he opened the book and started flipping through it.

  “You've become very good at that, master,” Kronk said with some admiration.

  “At what?” Simon asked vaguely as he examined some illustrations.

  “Using the magic to light candles.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Simon replied with a shrug, not looking up from the book.

  “You do realize that that skill can be used as a weapon, do you not?”

  Simon slowly looked up from the book.

  “A weapon? What do you mean?”

  Kronk looked a little exasperated.

  “Come now, master. You can ignite wood with your mind. Imagine what you could do to linen or cloth...or flesh.”

  Simon was aghast at what Kronk was implying.

  “My God, Kronk, you aren't suggesting that I set someone on fire?”

  “I am not suggesting anything, master. I am simply giving you options. Your power would not serve very well in battle. Spells are better when dealing with groups of enemies. But against one or two foes? It could prove to be the difference between life and death.”

  The little guy stared intently at Simon for a moment, then he walked over and laid his small hand on Simon's shoulder.

  “Master, your old world is gone. Your safe life is no more. This is the new world, the New Earth. And you must begin thinking like the wizard you are. If you are attacked, whether by evil forces or evil men, you must use your magic now, not your fists.” He gave a ghost of a smile. “Those who once guarded you, policemen you called them? Yes. They are gone. You must now guard yourself. And you must use every weapon at your disposal to do it.”

  He patted Simon on the shoulder and stepped back.

  Simon finished his tea and stood up to clean his cup. As he puttered, he thought about Kronk's dose of cold reality.

  He was right, of course. No one was going to protect Simon except Simon. He lived alone. The idea of moving down south to join Clara's group wasn't in the least bit attractive to him. He'd never been a very garrulous person and now, in this new body, he seemed to thrive in isolation. Maybe it was part of a wizard's makeup. He didn't know.

  So he asked himself the tough question. Could he use his power on another person? Could he kill? And a small, chilling voice inside him said yes.

  “Thanks, Kronk, for the pep-talk,” he said with a smile. The elemental nodded.

  “My pleasure, master. I'm going out to walk the wall. Are you going to sleep?”

  “Yeah, I think so. My foot is still throbbing. I think putting it up is a good idea. Do me a favor and wake me up early, would you? I need to start practicing my spells. Aeris was right. We may be running out of time.

  The next morning, Simon rolled out of bed before Kronk could wake him up. His foot was still sore but the pain was more bearable and he managed to make his breakfast and get back up to his study with only a little stiffness.

  He read through the spells he had already discovered.

  Fireball. Magic Missile. Stone Skin.

  He frowned. The only time he'd tried that one, his skin had turned a weird shade of gray but it hadn't seemed to do much else. Maybe now that he was connected to his true name, it would be more useful.

  There was the Summoning spell that had brought the elementals into the world. And several spells that seemed to do nothing when he cast them but he felt that they had potential for...something.

  Then he checked out the four runes that Daniel had sent him and tried different combinations, going on guesswork and a gut feeling more than knowledge.

  “What do you get when you combine major fire and earth runes with a minor air rune?” he wondered out loud.

  Well, you'll never know until you try, he thought and jotted it down. Maybe with enough practice he could memorize more than two spells at a time. That would help a lot.

  Simon gathered his spells together, grabbed a pencil and some blank paper and headed downstairs.

  Outside, the day was clear and warm and Simon stopped and just breathed deeply for a few minutes. You couldn't help but feel good on a day like this, he thought.

  Standing in the morning sunshine, the wind blowing through his hair and his sore foot barely bothering him, Simon realized that for the first time since he had Changed, he actually felt young and alive. Life seemed to be filled with possibilities and he realized that he was actually excited to begin living it.

  And the first thing to do is become good at spell-casting, he thought. So let's get on with it.

  The bars moved smoothly on the front gates and he opened them wide and made his way out to the field beyond.

  There was no sign of Kronk and Aeris hadn't returned yet. Simon was alone.

  He looked around and spotted the split tree stump that he had damaged with his Magic Missile spell. It would be a good target.

  Simon sat down in the middle of the field. The grass was a bit damp but most of the morning dew had evaporated and he ignored it. He read through the Stone Skin spell and the new one that incorporated the major earth and fire runes with the minor air rune. He added the word of command to the end of each one and then memorized them.

  Stone Skin first, he thought. If it works then I'll have some protection from the second spell. I hope.

  He stood up, closed his eyes, saw the spell hanging in front of him in a fiery string of symbols and spoke aloud in a firm voice.

  “Invectis!” he barked to invoke the spell and then waited.

  Nothing seemed different and Simon sighed in frustration. And then his skin started to tingle.

  “What?” he said as the tingle became an itch and then he felt like worms were crawling all over his flesh. It wasn't a pleasant sensation.

  Simon looked down at his body. The robes seemed the same, so he raised his hands and stared at them.

  The skin was now gray but it was also pebbled with tiny bumps that covered not only the back of his hands but his palms as well. When he pulled back his sleeves, he saw the same effect all along his arms.

  There was no loss of movement though and he could flex his arms and walk with no difficulty.

  Okay, it worked, he thought. But will it protect me or just make me look like someone with a skin condition?

  He chuckled to himself and then focused on the damaged stump. Now for the other spell.

  As a prec
aution, he moved back until he was about thirty feet from the hunk of wood. Just in case, he told himself. And then he cast the spell.

  “Invectis!” he said, completing the incantation.

  A surge of energy ran through his body and the ground underneath him trembled slightly. The sky darkened, although it remained clear and blue and Simon looked up fearfully, afraid that the dragon had returned.

  And then a loud whistling sound pierced the air and Simon gaped as a bolt of fire appeared out of the clear sky, shot straight down at the split stump and smashed it to pieces.

  Bits of earth and burning wood exploded everywhere and Simon threw himself on the ground and covered his head.

  But the debris didn't fly very far and when he looked around cautiously, Simon found that none of the wood or earth had fallen anywhere near him.

  He stood up and walked over to the smashed tree stump.

  There were several small fires around the area and he made sure he ground them out completely. The last thing he needed was a forest fire raging around his home. Then he examined what remained of the old tree trunk.

  There was a hole where the stump had been, still smoking slightly. A smell of burnt wood and, Simon sniffed curiously, sulfur? It was an unpleasant combination. The stump was gone, completely shattered and the hole was about two feet deep.

  He stood back and stared at the results of his spell.

  Well, he thought, that's impressive. How big would the explosion have been if I'd added the major air rune to the spell instead of the minor one. He shivered at the thought.

  “Well done, Simon,” came a voice from the trees a dozen yards away.

  He turned quickly and stared into the forest toward the hidden speaker. Simon relaxed as Aeris came floating out of the shadows to hover next to him at eye-level.

  “Hey Aeris. Good to see you back. Yeah thanks, it actually worked. Any idea what I should call this one?”

  Aeris looked down at the remnants of the stump.

  “Call it what it was, Simon. A Meteor spell. And a pretty decent one too.”

  “Meteor spell? Is that what it was?” He watched as the last of the smoke from the hole dissipated. “Huh, good name for it.”

  Aeris looked Simon up and down and nodded with seeming approval.