Foundling Wizard (Book 1)

by James Eggebeen

  The monk continued on praising Mu'umba and the Arda'um people. He praised the Wizard of old and the present. He invoked a blessing on Lorit and his quest, finally running down late in the afternoon.

  As they closed the heavy golden doors of the tomb, obscuring the view of the small casket within, Denghau turned to Lorit. “Please, Mighty one. As the Mighty one of the past raised the Plains of Grass to protect and enfold the people of magic. Would you do us the honor of sealing his tomb to protect and enfold this blessed son of Magic?” he asked.

  Lorit looked at Chihon questioningly. “What do you think that means?” he whispered.

  “I think he wants you to seal the doors with magic,” she whispered back.

  “If you would be so kind,” Denghau said. He gestured to the golden doors once again.

  Lorit stood up and raised his staff. He focused his thoughts on the door. He was worried that he would not have the strength or accuracy to do what the monk asked. He reached his hand down to Chihon to help her stand. She took his hand in hers, and Lorit could feel her power flow through him and into his staff.

  He willed the fire in a thin line that reached out from his staff and touched the seam of the massive golden doors. He could feel the metal flowing together under his touch, sealing the tomb of his friend from desecration.

  “As it was, so it will be once again,” Denghau said. “A wizard raises the spell to protect the people of magic.”

  “We’re not mighty ones,” Lorit said to him.

  Denghau smiled at him and said quietly, “Only the mighty ones can stand with the people of magic.”

  Lorit and Chihon were carried back to the temple on the shoulders of the monks. At the temple, there was a huge feast served by the monks. Lorit felt pampered and special to be a part of the celebration.

  Lorit wondered what it all meant.

  The next morning, as they prepared to leave, Chihon said, “That was quite a celebration.”

  “Do you believe that part about the transition to a new body, and returning some day to take this one back?” Lorit asked.

  “Stranger things have happened,” she said.

  “Zhimosom said Mu'umba wouldn’t be of help on our quest,” Lorit reminded her. “Maybe this was what he meant - that he knew Mu'umba was going to die here.”

  “I'm not sure that Zhimosom knows everything, especially about the Arda'um,” she said. “They seem to be outside of the Wizards’ power.”

  Veldwaite

  One evening during the descent into Veldwaite, Chihon felt the call from Rotiaqua. She sat up in her blankets and tried to focus on the Sorceress without the familiar aid of the candle flame. It took her a few tries, but finally the image of the Sorceress appeared in front of her.

  “Child,” she said, “you’re on your way into grave danger. Heed my words.” She leaned on her staff as she spoke. In the background, Chihon could see the faint outlines of an inn and the sleeping form of Chedel.

  “I know Lorit’s going to fight the temple. Is that the danger you’re warning me about?” Chihon said, sitting up.

  “If that were the only danger, that would be enough, but you personally are in danger,” she explained. “You are paired to Lorit now and, like it or not, what happens to him affects you just as deeply.”

  “Do you mean that if he’s killed I will also die?” Chihon asked. She fidgeted nervously with her hair as she spoke.

  “That is true, but there’s a fate worse than death, should he choose the wrong path,” Rotiaqua said.

  “The wrong path? What path does he need to choose?”

  “Lorit is in grave danger. He will face the challenge of the temple. They will not just attack him. They will try to convert him. They will try to get him to take the life and power of his opponent to win, to survive. If he does this, he will become like they are,” she said, looking gravely at Chihon.

  “If that should happen, you will also be possessed by the dark magic. There will be no return for either of you.”

  Chihon felt her stomach churn at the thought. “What do we have to do to prevent this?”

  “I see two possible futures for you both,” the Sorceress said.

  Rotiaqua passed her staff in front of Chihon, slowly circling the jewel at its head around a growing pool of mist. The mist turned a golden color as in its center a pool of liquid light settled out. As Chihon peered into the pool, it calmed down until it was almost as perfect as a mirror.

  In this mirror, a scene of Lorit engaged in a battle with a tall man in black robes appeared. It was a priest with his head shaved. His black robes and gold piping told her that he was a high priest in the temple of Ran.

  The two figures in the mirror threw bolts of fire and lighting at one another for what seemed like days. Each one was deftly deflecting the attacks of the other until Lorit raised his staff one last time. A violet light flared out and touched the priest. The light of that contact flared brighter than the sun, causing Chihon to look away.

  When she looked back, the scene showed a young man and woman standing on the stairs of the temple. The young man was Lorit, and he wore the black robes of the priest with gold piping, and his head was shaved.

  It took a moment for Chihon to identify herself standing next to Lorit in the black robes of the priest, with her head shaved. She gasped and covered her face with her hands. “This must not happen,” she sobbed. “It must not happen.”

  She blinked the tears from her eyes and looked up at the Sorceress. “Is this future certain?”

  “No, child,” Rotiaqua said gently. “But it is probable. That is, unless you act to prevent it.”

  “What must I do to prevent this?”

  “You are paired now. That means you can feel what he feels, and he can feel what you feel. Use that to help guide his actions.” Rotiaqua's image squirmed in her chair, as if looking for a comfortable position.

  “He must choose the right path when he’s afraid and threatened, when he feels there’s no other way out. When things look their darkest, you must provide the light he needs to see his way clearly.”

  “Did you go through this?” Chihon asked.

  “Of course child,” the Sorceress laughed. “Of course we did, only the trial was much worse than what you face. Well… It was worse for us, but each of us has to face a challenge like this someday. It's part of maturing as a Wizard.”

  “How will I know what to do, or when?” Chihon asked.

  “You will know,” Rotiaqua answered.

  “If we succeed?” she asked.

  The Sorceress once again took her staff and created the cloud of mist with the mirrored pool in the center. This time, Chihon saw a series of images depicting her and Lorit. They appeared in the robes of the Wizards, standing side by side in front of a pair of large, ornately carved doors that opened into a courtyard of a castle-like building.

  The scene faded out and was replaced by another. It was the same scene, but this time the two of them were noticeably older. This scene, too, faded. It was soon replaced by yet another, depicting them growing older, through middle aged and on towards ancient.

  “This is us?” Chihon asked.

  “It could be you,” the Sorceress answered. “If you succeed in keeping Lorit from choosing the wrong path.”

  “But, you can’t tell me how to do that?” Chihon asked.

  “I do not know how. All I know is that you have the ability to cause this outcome, if you so choose.”

  Lorit said farewell to Ostai as he left them outside of the city gates. The guide thanked them for their business and wished them well, claiming to have other matters to arrange. They camped outside the city on their first night and approached the gates shortly after they opened in the morning.

  Lorit and Chihon walked up to the gate behind a farmer with a cart load of cabbages. They stood patiently behind the cart until the guard cleared it through, and it was their turn. “What business do you have in Veldwaite?” he asked sharply.

  “We’re
traveling to visit my uncle Owari,” Lorit said. They’d chosen a common enough name as their mythical relative.

  “Where does he live? What business is he engaged in?” the guard demanded.

  “He’s a cooper, and lives near the market,” Lorit lied.

  “Don't know any cooper named Owari,” the guard said.

  Lorit sighed, digging for another lie that would let them pass, when the second guard stepped up. He’d been examining another wagon and had just let the farmer pass.

  “You don't know everyone,” he said to the first guard.

  He turned to Lorit. “Is he the tall guy? Down on broad street? The one with the pretty daughter?”

  “I… I don't know,” Lorit stuttered. “I’ve never met him, myself. My ma told me to look him up when we arrived. That he would help us find our way around.”

  The guard stepped aside and straightened up. “You may pass,” he said. “Good luck in finding your uncle.”

  Veldwaite was a large city compared to anything that Lorit had seen so far. The streets were wide and flanked by two and three story houses made of brick and plaster. According to their guide and the maps they’d studied, the temple was several blocks down from a large park where fairs and other entertainment were hosted.

  Lorit planned to secure a room at an inn near that park, so he could prepare. He wanted a chance to scout out the temple for a day or two as they made their plans.

  They reached the park just as the dew was off the grass. It was empty except for a few people laying out gaily decorated tents in the grass, still wet from the morning dew. Lorit approached a woman who’d just deposited a pile of poles next to one of the flaccid tents.

  “Pardon me ma'am, but can you point us to the Dancing Badger Inn?” he asked.

  The woman stood up and looked him over. She pointed in a north easterly direction and said, “It's over that way.” She waved her hand indicating a left turn. “Take that street until you get to the second intersection. Take a left there and you'll find it half way down the block.”

  “Thank you,” Lorit said, turning in the direction the woman indicated.

  Before they were half way across the park, they could see a man striding quickly and purposefully towards them. He was dressed in black with green piping and had a shaved head.

  “Do you think he’s looking for us?” Chihon asked.

  Lorit shrugged. “How could he? We’ve only just arrived. If we ignore him, he should pass us by.” He continued his leisurely stroll across the park, but adjusted his course to give the priest a wide berth.

  The priest adjusted his own path to intercept Lorit and Chihon once again.

  “I think he’s coming for us,” Chihon said.

  As he drew close to them, the priest raised his hand, palm facing them. “By order of the Temple of Ran, and the Authority of the High Priest, I command you to stand fast,” he shouted.

  Lorit stopped and grasped his staff in his right hand, lifting it slightly in preparation. He felt Chihon grab his left arm and squeeze it gently. “Don't provoke him,” she said softly.

  The priest stopped where he was, arm outstretched. “What are you doing here, Wizard?” he demanded.

  “Wizard?” Lorit asked. “You must have mistaken me for someone else.”

  Lorit barely had time to raise his staff and deflect the sparking ball of fire that came rushing at him. He raised shields around himself and Chihon. He could feel the searing pain in his arm as the fireball brushed him on its way past.

  Lorit looked around to see if there was anything to offer them shelter from the priest's attack, but they were in the middle of the park, without so much as a tree to provide them cover. He would have to stand his ground.

  He raised his staff, searching for a source of power that he could draw upon to drive his counterattack. He felt Chihon next to him. Her power glowed like a bright violet light to his sense.

  He reached farther and felt the priest. Lorit recognized the shield the priest held against him and the power within. He was surrounded in a bright violet glow that was encapsulated in what felt like a solid brick wall. He probed the wall, looking for a weakness.

  Lorit felt that, if he could pierce the shield, he could draw on the priest's own power and use it against him. Another fireball sped their way, this one much larger and more powerful. Lorit could feel the heat rise as the expanding ball of lightning and fire rolled towards them across the intervening air.

  Lorit reached out to Chihon. He drew power from her to deflect the attack, but it still left him stinging. He could smell the faint scent of sulfur burning as the fireball washed against his shield and dissipated. He had to take a step to keep from falling backwards from the force of the attack.

  Again, he probed the shields of the priest. He could feel the intricate layer upon layer of defense, almost as if it were composed of strands of rope, like the spell they’d used on him, only this one worked to keep magic out, rather than trap it in.

  He carefully separated the strands until he had a clear path through the shield. If he could draw on the priest's own power, Lorit felt he could defeat him with ease. He prepared to grasp that violet light and turn it against its owner through the small hole he’d worked in the shields.

  Another fireball flashed their way. This time, Lorit reached out to feel how it was constructed and controlled. He could feel the connection between the fireball and the violet power of the priest. It brushed his arm, burning not only his shirt but scorching the hair from his arm and hand. His skin turned red and blistered.

  As the fire passed, Lorit saw what he had to do. He knew how to direct the priest's own power against him. He prepared to draw the violet power from within the shield and use it as he did his own, to turn it against the priest himself. He focused his attention, widening the hole in the priest's shield until he felt he could step right through.

  He reached inside the intertwined ropes of the shields using Chihon's power to overcome the resistance. He started to draw the violet light towards himself; he could feel the priest's resistance. He increased his effort, drawing more from Chihon and depleting his own reserve, using his staff to focus the energy that now pierced the shield and drew the violet light steadily out of his enemy.

  Lorit could feel that the power was ready to snap away from the priest. He felt him weakening as he drew the power away from him, concentrating it, and preparing for the attack.

  “Lorit! NO!” shouted Chihon. “Not this way.” He could feel her pulling back on her power, barring him from its use.

  Without Chihon, Lorit lost his advantage. The priest renewed his efforts to push him out. Lorit felt the shields slam shut, and the power behind it recede.

  Another fireball headed his way, although this one was nothing like the previous ones had been. He easily deflected it. When he looked up, the priest was gone.

  “What happened?” Lorit asked, looking in surprise at Chihon.

  “You were going to kill him. I could feel you drawing his power out of him, trying to absorb it.” She faced him, fists closed on her hips.

  “I was just going to use it against him,” Lorit answered plaintively.

  “You would have killed him.”

  “The priests killed my sister.”

  “That doesn’t justify killing someone else,” she insisted.

  Lorit reached down and picked up the pack he’d shed at the start of the fight. He slung it onto his shoulder and leaned on his staff. The jewel in the head glowed with a light gold radiance, as if still hot from the activity. “He was trying to kill us.”

  “I know he was,” Chihon said. “I could feel the fire, too.”

  “Yet you don't believe he deserved to die?” Lorit said. He reached down, picked up Chihon’s pack, and held it out to her.

  Chihon took the pack and slung it over her shoulder as Lorit had. He was relieved to see her relax somewhat from her previous angry stance. “Not that way,” she said.

  Lorit turned to continue on the p
ath that they’d started before the priest appeared. He made it several paces before he realized that Chihon was not following behind him. He stopped and turned back to see her standing in the same place, looking dejected.

  “What is it?” he called back to her.

  “You really were going to take his power,” she said. “Weren't you?”

  “No. I was just going to use it against him.”

  Chihon started towards him. “Let's get to the inn and get settled. I need to tell you what Rotiaqua showed me.” She walked near Lorit, but kept her distance.

  They booked a room at the Dancing Badger Inn, off the side street, just where the woman had described it. The inn was run down, but the dining area was warm inside. Lorit was glad of the warmth after the trek over the mountains; he chose a seat near the hearth.

  Lorit sat facing the fire, and made room for Chihon, who sat next to him, still keeping her distance. “Are you still mad about the priest?” he asked her.

  “Yes, I am,” she said. “You don't know how much of a risk you took back there.” She balled her hand into a fist and pounded on the table for emphasis. “For both of us.”

  “What risk was I taking? I was protecting us from that priest.”

  “You could have become like they are.”

  “Like them?” Lorit asked. “How could I have become like them?”

  “If you take their power into yourself, if you use it like your own, you are just like them,” she said.

  “There was no danger of that,” he said defiantly.

  “Oh yes, there was,” came a voice from behind him. Lorit turned to look up into the face of Rotiaqua the Sorceress. “There most certainly was, and there still is.” She stood there, looking down at Lorit.

  Lorit was speechless. He was not expecting her, and certainly did not know how to answer her accusation.

  “Aren't you going to invite and old woman to sit?” she asked, pulling the bench out across from Lorit. She sat heavily and smoothed out her long amber robes.

  Lorit looked around for her charge, but didn’t see the boy. “Do you still have Chedel with you?” he asked. Lorit was concerned. He still felt responsible for Chedel since he’d rescued him from the priests. It seemed like years ago.