Magnus smiled at them for the last time, took the first turn and disappeared.
After a short pause, Eagle turned to Jackal, “By the way, you're not over thirty, you're over forty,” he said calmly.
“Really?” Jackal said with a sign of disappointment in his voice, as though he was making sure that Eagle meant what he had said. “I thought it was less!”
“Hmm, I'd still like to know how he survived in the wilderness,” said Eagle thoughtfully, staring at the place where he saw Magnus for the last time.
Jackal was obviously interested in things other than his guard duties. “Doesn't matter! He'll play Magiker, finally sumthin' will happen! Quick! Show me how the permit of such a famous Magiker player looks!” he screamed, jumping around merrily. Then he suddenly stopped, “I shoulda asked for a signature!”
“Would you stop?” muttered Eagle and rolled his eyes. But he was interested in that himself, so he slowly pulled down the satin ribbon and opened the scroll.
His face changed colours at least five times in one second.
“What's inside? Show me! Show me!” Jackal was jumping around him.
Eagle took a deep breath, “Surely he has a lot of papers on him, but BLANK! GET HIM!” Bellowed Eagle and his face turned so red that even Jackal was scared of him. He scooted after Magnus like a hawk after a pigeon and it took a while for Jackal to catch up with him. But he couldn't turn the whole of Ragna upside down to find a little boy who was several minutes ahead, and so he needed a trained dog, Jackal's ranger abilities to be precise. They didn't meet him again that day, but Magnus hoped he wouldn't meet them again in his life. They must have been really angry — he completely ruined their lunch break!
II. The House Of Wonders
The narrow streets which were paved with cobblestones seemed like a maze to Magnus. He was afraid he would get lost at any time now and he would bump into the angered Eagle and Jackal. His big shoes were clacking on the stones more loudly than would be wise but he didn't have a choice. He couldn't stop.
Magnus was running for quite a while, banging around walls, unable to slow down before reaching them. When he thought he would finally take a rest, he stepped on the wrong spot and tripped on a gap in the stone pavement.
BAM!
Magnus flew forwards and fell flat on the ground like a frog. His black hat, now grey from all the dust fell onto his nose as he hit the floor.
It took a while for him to get up and sweep the dust off him with his aching hands. He was lucky that he softened the fall, otherwise it could have ended much worse. Barely standing on his feet, he raised his hat and his eyes popped in amazement.
He wasn't in the empty corridor labyrinth any more. There was much more to see than just stone walls resembling a ghost town. He found himself in a huge plaza.
The first thing Magnus noticed was a tall tower at the end of the plaza with a giant round clock showing the exact time. Beneath it there was a painting shaped like a nine-pointed star, which he didn't understand at all. Therefore he focused on the clock above which was showing that it was almost noon.
In the centre of the plaza there were many kiosks but Magnus was unable to recognise what they were selling from the distance. More customers were in his way than would suffice to keep the sellers' purses filled. Magnus was glad he could finally see the inhabitants of Ragna who were not trying to catch him or put him under a lock. He smiled contently and slipped into the crowd at the marketplace.
A lot of interesting items caught his attention: weapons, food and clothes of beautiful colours. He caught a glimpse of two Ragnan warriors nearby, dressed in a traditional leather armour. Their faces were covered in symbols, which should help them get glory in battle. Gleaming swords in leather scabbards were hanging from their belts and their heavy shoes stomping on the ground were much louder than Magnus'.
“Wow,” a thought slipped on Magnus' tongue and if his stomach had not growled again, he would have completely forgotten his hunger. He soon lost sight of the warriors and lords and ladies in colourful outfits took their place instead. When they mixed, they looked like a walking rainbow. Magnus noticed that depending on the various kinds of robes he could see there were people of varied status.
The sun rays fell on the top of the tower at the end of the plaza and the big clock chimed twelve. A little wooden figure crawled out from a small door at the side of the tower. It should have probably been a mage even though hardly anyone would recognise it. From a door on the other side something like a dragon crept out, spitting wooden flames. The creator of these figures was, upon looking, not the best in his trade. Magnus was standing below the tower, gazing at the two wooden figures in amazement as they were getting closer to each other. He didn't know why, but he favoured the dragon immediately, even though Magnus himself could have probably made him look better. Before the figures could change places and go back into the tower, the mage stopped, cast a wooden “ice-ball” and the dragon crumbled into pieces. Magnus gasped. There were only splints left of the dragon. The mage bowed and entered the tower again.
Magnus stood rooted to the spot as he looked at the splintered remnants of the dragon which fell down to his feet, while the townsfolk of Ragna were standing around him, clapping enthusiastically for the mage's victory.
*
The rays of sun were falling on the roofs of all houses without an exception, even on the police station which was situated in the left corner of the town, near the guarded city gate enclosed by tall walls from both sides. The watchtower of the police station was much higher than the walls, so there was a great view of the everyday battle between the dragon and the mage on the tower.
“I still think it's not right,” said a man in an early middle age, looking out of the window. “The mage always wins. I'm afraid it might influence the citizens of Ragna; everyone will want to become a mage. And that's not good. There are few enough of our Magi Policemen to keep an eye on them. Moreover, it puts stupid thoughts into people's heads. There is no such thing as dragons,” he said and let down the curtain which instantly covered the view of the city. The room went dim.
No one else was standing on the other side of the room but Eagle and Jackal, this time sweating even more than usual because the general of the Magi Police himself was right in front of them and they were about to tell him some news he might not like.
The general returned to his table, placing his hands on the desk. Not only was the table standing between him and the guards now but also columns of thick, heavy books, mostly pertaining to laws for using magick in the city. There were so many of these laws that it was easy for the inhabitants of Ragna to remember just one thing: magick of any sort executed by an unauthorised person was prohibited.
He didn't make the situation any easier for Eagle and Jackal with his piercing stare. This man, feared far and wide for his lack of compromise had short black hair coming together on the sides of his head like two horns. You could see a few grey strands on one of them already. He was wearing a black uniform and a strong coat embroidered with a golden-red border. His nose was straight as a plank and his eyes as dark as the deepest pit. Yes, the Dark Pit. That was the place where he sent anyone who crossed the law. His presence meant the end of all hope for every delinquent. If someone was scared of Eagle and Jackal, after seeing General Xanthar, he would run for his life.
“Come on you two, I don't have the whole day for you. Will you finally spit it out?” said the general impatiently. It was clear from his expression that he had asked this question more than once.
Eagle and Jackal could not stop elbowing each other in the ribs. “You say it! You're always the guinea pig,” Eagle whispered to Jackal, poking him inconspicuously.
“Nah, you say it!” said Jackal fearfully as he was defending himself from Eagle's pokes.
“I still have a chance to make a career, there's nothing that could go wrong for you on the other hand. You say it!” said Eagle fiercely, a little more audible this time.
“Meh? Why does it always have ta be meh? You say it! After all, you let 'im disappear! I at least asked 'im for the permit, even though it was fake an' -” Jackal slipped. They completely forgot about the general's presence in the room.
A moment of silence ensued.
“Well well well,” said Xanthar with an unpleasant sneer on his face. “I think I get what's happening now.”
The sound of Xanthar's voice sent a shiver down Eagle's and Jackal's spines. They were entirely aware of the fact that they didn't complete their duties as they should have and both of them let their guards down after imagining a dramatic Magiker match.
Strangely enough, general Xanthar had not sent them to the jail yet. He slowly sat on his padded armchair behind the table, taking a deep breath.
“You're lucky that I'm in a good mood today,” he said calmly, then cast another piercing gaze at Eagle and Jackal. “I want to see his report. If you even made one, that is.”
The guards could finally say that they did something right. Silence came in that moment but unfortunately for them, Jackal's brain short-circuited.
“But of course we did, sir,” said Jackal with a faint, dumb smile on his face. “What kind of guards would we be if we hadn't-” the next word didn't come out of his mouth because he felt another sharp poke in his ribs.
“Jackal! Be quiet!” Eagle hammered at him, realising what unfortunate words Jackal had chosen. In that moment, they both felt the rigid stare of the general and they had a feeling that he had already counted every offence they had made.
“If you don't give me the record right now I will write one for you instead,” said Xanthar impatiently. By the time he could take another breath, the scroll was already lying on his table.
Jackal felt the sweat trickling down his forehead as he made a long step back.
The general unfolded the scroll in one fierce move, it was a miracle he didn't rip it apart. His eyes quickly slid over the contents.
“Hmm, Magnus, ten years, origin unknown,” Xanthar was reading aloud, frowning more and more. “A child ran away from you?” he said as he shook his head in disbelief. “Baggy clothes, a big dark hat, shoes stolen from a giant. Look for a scarecrow and you'll definitely find Magnus-” the general didn't continue anymore. Even a few words were enough for him to understand that reading on would be a total waste of time. He rolled the scroll back in seconds and threw it towards Eagle who almost didn't catch it, juggling with it like a hot potato.
Jackal pulled his shirt so that he let a bit of fresh air under it.
Xanthar looked at Jackal, his face slightly contorted with disgust. “I recommend you to find your scarecrow as soon as possible,” he said, toying with a big quill feather. “When you find him, call me. I'll take care of him myself.” The general raised his eyes again, but this time there was something darkly sinister in them.
Before you could count to five, the guards were already gone.
Now that they had finally departed, Xanthar pulled out a box similar to the black one of Eagle's and Jackal's keeping. But this one was, upon looking, much more expensive. It was gilded and decorated with a snake relief and blood-red rubies. This model didn't require him to place it on his temple; only a touch was needed for the transfer of thoughts to be possible.
When he heard a familiar female voice in his mind, he could share his thoughts with someone at last.
“Korin, bring me an air freshener. You still have it, right?” he said swiftly, hoping to hear a positive answer as he leaped to his feet to open all of the large windows.
*
When the performance on the tower was over, Magnus finally started noticing his surroundings again. The houses were built around the plaza tightly like a domino. The wonderful smell of the fresh bakery was lingering under his nose but just as he decided to follow it, a building among tens of others caught his attention. It seemed special to him because there was a huge sign above its heavy wooden door, with big lettering that read: “PATHICO”. That was the word he had seen on the strange box of wonders! He surely wanted to take a look at that.
When Magnus came closer to this building, he had noticed even more differences from other houses in its vicinity. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find the tiniest window on any of its walls. It seemed that the owner of this house was really fond of his privacy.
Magnus narrowed his eyes and fixed his hat. He was determined to get the answers to his questions about the mysterious black box and so he walked up the small stairs in front of the door. He took a deep breath as he reached for the metal knocker on the door. He barely touched it with his fingertips, but its lightness really surprised him. Standing on his toes, he knocked three times. From the height at which the knocker was fixed, Magnus deduced that children were probably not very frequent visitors here. It also looked like there was nobody inside because no one was answering.
Just as Magnus thought that he would turn around and finally buy himself something tasty to eat, he shrieked suddenly and had to catch his breath. He saw a terrible monster! Until he realized it was only a carving on the door of this spooky house, he flinched back from the door and staggered on the stairs. He gazed at the door again with a feeling that he could see a demon's face on it.
They really know how to make visitors comfortable, Magnus thought, when his breath finally slowed down a little. Until then, he wasn't able to form a single thought in his mind.
The door creaked immediately afterwards and opened lazily, as though someone was inviting him inside. Or would it be more appropriate to say “something”?
Magnus jumped again and his heart, which could not be calmed easily, started hammering crazily once more. In that moment, he froze like a statue. This building has no windows, what if it's a jail? Full of dangerous criminals, Magnus thought frantically. Who knows what was awaiting him in this town? A horrible feeling flushed him; perhaps he should be somewhere else, doing something else, but he still couldn't remember. After a while, his curiosity got the better of him. Who knows, maybe his memory would finally recover while finding out what the black box of the guards' keeping was. He cautiously pushed the door open and peeked inside, but it didn't seem like anyone was standing there. Magnus thought that someone was playing tricks on him. Or was it the house itself?
He then slowly squeezed himself inside. The interior was very dark and the sun ray coming through the door seemed weak and defenceless in this engulfing darkness. He made another step and then-
BAM!
As the door swung closed behind him, the room went completely black. For a second, Magnus didn't realise what had happened. He groped at the handle with his hand, but the door was locked.
The only exit from this weird place and with it, the only ray of light were gone. In this kind of darkness, a blind man would be equal with him who can see. Magnus tried to focus his sight in vain, the darkness seemed deeper and deeper with every passing second. It made him feel that he was falling into it.
“Hello? Anybody here...?“ said Magnus carefully in the hopes of hearing a reply. And someone human, if possible. Nobody answered but Magnus still had an unpleasant feeling that something would attack him. The longer he stood there, the more he was shaking.
So much for my curiosity, thought Magnus, seemingly lost in that place forever. That feeling was even worse than the thought of his memory forever lost. But he would not have dreamed of this thought being the first nudge to improve his situation. And not only that, it helped him get even more, much more.
Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air.
"Curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back," a voice rolled unexpectedly.
Was it only his imagination or had someone just answered his thought? Indeed, Magnus was so confused already he wasn't sure if he hadn't said it aloud. “Excuse me...?” asked Magnus cautiously, as though he was making sure that he really heard something.
“Yes, you heard me right. And I heard you fine too. So we both heard e
ach other perfectly.”
Judging from what this man had said, he surely liked to preach at others. From his voice, Magnus could make out that he was probably older, located not far away from where Magnus was standing. In the next moment, he realised a few facts which helped him calm down a bit. First, the owner of this house was a human being. Second, he did not seem to be hostile. And third, he finally had hope of someone lighting up the room.
Magnus stepped forward but he immediately tripped over something. He didn't even have to see the surroundings to know that “order” was a word unknown in this place.
“S-sorry,“ said Magnus shyly. “Could I please get some light here?”
In that moment, just like snapping your fingers, more than two dozens of white candles of different lengths lighted up. But not much more had to be done for Magnus to get a heart attack.
An old man was towering like a mountain before him whose white beard was so long that its owner was almost sweeping the floor with it. His emerald green eyes suited his heavy green robe which made him look like a majestic, powerful mage. Only the glasses of a university professor were missing on his long, straight nose. Hair as white as snow was resting on his shoulders, reaching to the level of his shoulder blades.
The long white hair, the long white beard, even the long robe made him look like a classic mage of Ragna. But something was strange about him. It was his hat – its tip was not pointing straight up, as usually was the case. It was folded down. But Magnus didn't stop to ponder about this fact at the time. He didn't even know how a Ragnan mage should look.
“BOO!“ rolled the mage's voice again.
Even though the room was already well-lit and even though Magnus could see the owner of the house, he still jumped in shock.
The old mage chuckled and walked slowly to a massive table on the other side of the room, which was full of various junk.
Drakonika (Book 1) Page 2
