The Forgotten Magic

by Kelly Peasgood

  Prichard turned his frown on her. He glanced across the field to King Stefan, then brought his gaze back to Emily.

  "Will you swear on your life, on his, that what you attempt will bring no harm to the kingdom?"

  Emily held his dark regard with equanimity.

  "I do swear it."

  Prichard studied her a moment longer, then met Destiny's resolve, and finally Norbert's reassuring nod. With a deep sigh, he inclined his head.

  "It seems I ought to go make a report to the King then, lest he mistake your next actions."

  Without another word, he rose to his feet and strode away.

  "Where do you want me?" Ambrose asked as he knelt next to Emily, his arm gently supporting her.

  "Best if you step away," Norbert said. "But only far enough to ensure no interruptions. I suspect that, once we're done, we might need some assistance."

  "And a very long nap," Destiny added under her breath. Norbert chuckled.

  After the wizards had bolstered their strength with the last of Norbert's rations, the small group settled themselves as comfortably as the grass of the open field allowed. Norbert drew in a deep breath and regarded his companions.

  "Shall we begin?" he asked of both women.

  With Emily's firm nod, each wizard placed a hand on her shoulders, Destiny on the left and Norbert on the right. And then, following the enhanced sight and memory of a very unique individual, the wizards spoke a language not seen in Dalasham for 186 years, modifying a Great Magic meant to restore the land's forgotten magical heritage.

  Epilogue

  It had taken Destiny nearly a week to fully recover from the incredible drain on magic and stamina from implementing the change to Constance's construct. For the first two days, Emily had shared her confinement in the chambers set aside for the pair, the librarian looking pale and drawn. The following three days, Emily had lingered often in between Council meetings and time spent in the library, usually accompanied by Ambrose who, it seemed, had finally made his interest in the young librarian known. Chief Librarian Darien, too, had kept Destiny company, and even Lord Prichard had stopped by to monitor her progress. She had heard that Norbert had dragged himself from his bedside early on the third day to reassure himself of the secure confinement of Nathan in the wizard cell next to Marcus', then had promptly crawled back into bed for another solid day. She herself hadn't given much thought to the wizards locked up below beyond determining that neither could harm her or those she had so recently helped to protect.

  Another week amid a flurry of wedding preparations which Destiny greatly appreciated having no part in passed where she found herself an unexpected voice in the King's latest project. Stefan planned to resurrect a plethora of disciplines at the University at Dalasmar, reinstating classes on all manner of surprising subjects, including the instruction of magic. He currently had workers converting an old warehouse to temporarily house this influx of alternate studies until he could have a new wing added to the University on the outskirts of Riverbend. Destiny had walked through that University at the southern edge of the city where the river curved around to give the capital its name two days ago with an architect named Hestern. She had identified a few rooms which had likely served as training rooms for young magicians given their unique shielding, currently serving as classrooms or storage areas. Hestern had made copious notes and drawings to determine how best to design the new wing with magical requirements in mind. They had then sat down together with Norbert in the sitting room they had so often used so that the Administrator of the Frontier School could add his insights and suggestions based on the construction and uses of the Schools of Wizardry. Hestern had left that meeting with an eager bounce to his step and fire in his soul to design the finest facility for wizards, something he hoped to rival, or even surpass, those of other countries.

  Norbert had made his farewells soon after, taking Nathan and Marcus back to Bakaana to answer for their blatant disregard of the Peace Accords. Destiny had found herself profoundly grateful that she had escaped the Enforcer's retribution―she had known Norbert had secrets, but his role as an Enforcer hadn't crossed her mind―through her actions and remorse for her part in Whillim's scheme. That she hadn't acted against a non-magical country in the hopes of asserting undue influence simply for her own gain, but rather as an attempt to find freedom in exchange for a service rendered went a long way in her favour. Still, his judgement of extenuating circumstances mitigated thereafter by safeguarding those she had harmed left her breathless at such generosity. She knew neither Nathan nor Marcus could expect such leniency. Both men had sneered their contempt of Norbert as the King's men had unceremoniously hoisted the wizards atop horses and sent them, shackled both physically and magically, on their way west. Somehow, she didn't think she'd have to worry about her brother or his companion ever again, not with Norbert to see to their punishment. She could find contentment knowing that Norbert had care of those who had tormented her.

  She had realised on the Fields of Erinnerung, while she strove so hard to reach the little boy she had once known as her brother, that the Nathan she wanted to rescue had died long ago. The man left in his place had few, if any, redeeming qualities, and no interest in resurrecting the ghost of who he might have become. That Norbert would take charge of the cruel and petty tyrant Wizard Shelton had created took a weight off her chest.

  As did the presence of her companion today, a woman who, in large part, made it possible for Destiny to stand here now. Without Emily's surprising trust and acceptance, Destiny would not have survived past her trial, nor found herself in a position where, given time, they might both find a place in the world that didn't hold them hostage to their sex while ignoring their abilities. Moreover, she wouldn't have discovered a land that made her feel welcome, for now that Constance's spell no longer pressured wizards to avoid the capital, Destiny found herself enjoying her surroundings.

  "I still can't quite believe we're here," Emily said as she looked around at all the construction. The two stood near the entrance to the warehouse that would soon hold its first classes in strange and wondrous subjects―a phrase Lord Prichard had coined to spark the interest of both nobles and commoners. It would take some time before the knowledge of Lesser Magics and their great prevalence sat comfortably with the people of Dalasham, but King Stefan intended to make the transition into the world of magic as easy and acceptable as possible for his citizens. To that end, Prichard had designed various ways to make the notion more palatable, including such comforting and amusing phrases, with stunning success. Already, people had come seeking assurances that what they now sensed flowing within them would not harm them or their loved ones.

  Stefan had scheduled classes on basic control to begin next week, classes which Destiny had agreed to lead after a little persuasion from Lord Prichard and reassurances from Chief Librarian Darien. Knowing each man had unconsciously exerted his Lesser Magic on her―or perhaps not so unconsciously on Darien's part―had amused the lady wizard. She looked forward to explaining how to shield against such intrusions, but until then, she let each man think they had truly swayed her thinking with their charming arguments. Lessons on the ethical use of power would quickly follow the learning of control, the irony of such a concept taught by a scion of Wizard Shelton not lost on Destiny.

  She caught Emily's eye.

  "I can hardly believe you're willing to stand at the front of a class," Destiny teased. "You know you'll have to talk to strangers, right?" If someone had told her a year ago that she would find such a fierce companion, or have the audacity to banter with someone like Emily with no gain beyond the sheer enjoyment of her company, she would have called them a fool. Much had changed.

  "It's just history," Emily murmured, though the slight quiver in her voice gave away her nerves. "Darien will have a harder time explaining the political ramifications of the last couple of centuries in his classes." Until they could recruit more teachers and wizards willing to come to Dalasmar―Norbert
intended to spread the word at the Frontier School for volunteers―they had a limited number of people available to fill the University in the capacity of instructors. Which left the Librarians as likely sources of knowledge with the ability to pass on their information. "For me," Emily continued, "I intend to pretend I'm just talking to you or Darien instead of a room full of people who have believed a lie for 186 years. How much trouble can I get in with that?"

  Destiny stared at her a moment, then broke into a laugh when she saw Emily's quick grin. It felt good to laugh.

  "Look out Dalasham," she said. "You have no idea what's coming." And then, because she couldn't help the jibe, she peered sideways at her friend, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "You do realise most of the Council will sit in on your first lessons, right? Not just strangers, but people like Lords Alphonse, Byndorf, Castel ..."

  Emily paled, a hand to her stomach. Destiny grinned.

  "And they'll have to listen to every word you say," the wizard added smugly. Emily gave a little start, then managed a weak grin that grew stronger as she contemplated the implications of the powerful men of the realm taking instruction from a woman. Looking around at the morphing construction site that would soon see waves of people wanting to learn, both women knew they would have challenges and successes aplenty. Emily would teach folks forgotten history, Destiny would guide them in forgotten magic, and Dalasham would once again change. Destiny found herself eager to see the future of her new country.

  ***

  They had ridden for two days with little break. The harsh pace irked Marcus, but not as much as the humiliation of finding himself forced to trail after an officious little administrator from a country not his own who thought he had some authority over him. Over Nathan. Ridiculous!

  But Norbert had kept Nathan bound with restraints that mirrored Marcus' own, and a strange amulet besides. While Marcus didn't know the properties of that amulet, he suspected it served a similar purpose as the magic-inhibiting bracelets, showing that Norbert at least had some appreciation for Nathan's strength. It wouldn't help the Bakaana wizard much once Nathan figured out how to free himself from his fetters. In the meantime, Norbert had kept his captives silent with a simple spell. It didn't stop the glares, but Norbert ignored the hatred aimed his way.

  Suddenly Norbert shivered and glanced around. After another few paces, he nodded, glancing back at his unwilling guests. He narrowed his gaze, eyes dark yet cold. Marcus felt a brief stab of alarm at the lack of humanity in that inky stare, then forced the feeling away. He would not quiver before an office clerk.

  Norbert searched his surroundings, found a place to his liking, and led Marcus and Nathan off the road into a clearing. He dismounted, stared at his recalcitrant companions, and raised his arms. Marcus felt a band of air wrap around his middle, lifting him from the saddle, then drop him to the ground. Nathan landed beside him with a grunt. Norbert stood staring down at them, his face giving away nothing of his thoughts.

  "You entered Dalasham, a country under the protection of the Peace Accords, with the intent of causing mischief," Norbert said, no trace of accent or inflection in his voice. His eyes bore into Nathan's. "Do you deny this?"

  "I came to find a murderess and free a companion wrongfully imprisoned," Nathan spat, freed from his spell of silence.

  "With an army at your back?"

  "Diversion."

  Norbert's eyebrows rose.

  "A diversion augmented by magic, intended to sweep away all resistance."

  Nathan grinned, his deep blue eyes wild.

  "Any advantage to gaining what's mine," he said.

  "You are aware that the Peace Accords forbid such a use of magic?" Norbert asked in a deceptively soft tone.

  "Bah, it wouldn't have caused lasting harm."

  "No lasting harm?" Norbert repeated incredulously. "You invaded a foreign land, killing many of its defenders who had no experience battling against magic, and you think it didn't cause lasting harm?"

  "They mean nothing to me," Nathan shrugged. "Pissants in the way of reaching my goal."

  "And you would do so again," stated Norbert.

  Nathan glared at him.

  "No one stands in my way," he growled.

  Norbert nodded once, then turned away from Nathan to face Marcus.

  "And you would have gifted a kingdom to this man," he said.

  Marcus drew himself up proudly.

  "If he had wanted it," he replied. "And no, I wouldn't change what happened save to eliminate that wretched little librarian first. Without her meddling, we wouldn't find ourselves here now."

  Norbert nodded again. He looked back the way they had come, and considered a moment. Finally he turned back to the two men sneering at him.

  "We have crossed Destiny's ward. As far as she knows, her brother will continue on to face punishment for breaking the Peace Accords. Thus ends my obligation to a wizard who in the end helped uphold what I have sworn to protect. She will know no guilt for the judgement I have pronounced upon you."

  "Judgement?" Nathan hissed. "You have no authority over a Level Five Prime Wizard."

  "Oh, but I do," Norbert's stare turned intense. "I have every authority to Enforce the Peace Accords, especially against the likes of you."

  Marcus felt his innards churn as he finally recognised their peril, but he could do nothing as Norbert turned a ruthless eye on Nathan.

  Nathan suddenly stopped breathing, his beautiful face turning purple, then blue, his hands scrabbling uselessly against an invisible force. Marcus watched in horror as Nathan fell, eyes distending in a gross parody of stupefaction, the light and life fled from the face of the only person he had ever cared about. He turned in fury on the man who had so casually killed his companion, but then his blood turned cold as he found himself facing not an unctuous Administrator, but an Enforcer. Without so much as altering his vacant expression, Norbert raised his hand.

  "No," Marcus choked out, trying to back away.

  "Yes," the Enforcer pronounced, passing judgement and retribution. Marcus felt his throat constrict, his air passage blocked as thoroughly as his magic by an unseen hand of power. He clawed at his neck, the accursed shackles binding his wrists mocking him in his impotence as he gurgled in panic. Blood vessels popped in bulging eyes, introducing their own level of agony as Marcus fell heavily to his knees, then slowly toppled to his side until he joined Nathan in death.

  No one saw Norbert set the bodies aflame, erasing any physical evidence of their fate and scattering their names on the wind, writ large for any who thought to follow their course: So suffer all who would challenge the Peace Accords.

  The small wizard stepped forward a short time later to retrieve the magical bindings from the ashes that had held Dalasham's enemies quiescent, then turned away from the scene, his task complete. He swung up onto the back of his mount, tied the spare horses to his saddle, and nudged the beasts into a gentle walk as the sun lowered on its journey to kiss a blush onto the horizon ahead of him. He had a long way to travel before he reached Bakaana.