The Sorcerer's Return (The Sorcerer's Path)

by Brock Deskins

  “It would appear the duchies vote to stay our present course,” Lord Preston announced smugly.

  The doors to the meeting hall opened and a shrill voice sounded clearly over the muttering assembly. “Brightridge does not abstain!”

  Jarvin smiled at the handsome young man who would one day be the Duke of Brightridge. “Thomas, what an unexpected surprise.”

  Thomas strode toward the King and bent his knee. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I thought this decision too important to be left to a proxy.” Thomas Everingham stood and looked boldly at the crowd of adults. “Brightridge will arm and defend itself and the kingdom with every ounce of its gold, breath, and blood!”

  Lord Preston laughed loudly. “The boy gets his first black and curly betwixt his legs and thinks he’s ready to make a man’s decision!”

  Thomas’s eyes locked with those of Lord Preston, silencing the nobleman and the entire room. “You have offended me, Lord Preston. Mark your calendar three years, nine months, and eleven days from today. On that day I claim my throne and my manhood, and you will answer for your insult with steel.”

  No one laughed at the boy now. Thomas had taken to his sword studies with a fervor the likes of which few had ever seen after the assassination of his father. He could probably take Lord Preston in a duel now if it were not against kingdom law for a boy to demand satisfaction by blade.

  “Thomas—Lord Everingham—I misspoke,” Lord Preston said nervously. “I simply wished to alleviate the tension of the room.”

  “And I intend to alleviate the tension your over-sized head places upon your fat neck.”

  “Your Majesty, surely you will not allow young Thomas to make such a reckless declaration. I am certain that when he matures he will see how inappropriate such a reaction was.”

  Jarvin looked at the angry boy. “Thomas, I look forward to your birthday and coronation.”

  Headmaster Florent stood. “If we are through with the entertainment, may we return to the issue at hand? Let The Academy break the stalemate by voting for reason and not rash militarization.”

  “Let the Magus Academy speak for themselves,” Commandant Reese boomed over the crowd. “The Martial Academy will not turn a blind eye to a possible threat, no matter how improbable. I have read Lord Giles’ ideas on training and have already begun to enact them. My cadets will be ready to teach these new standards on a wide scale to the common army within a year.”

  “Then we are at an impasse once more!” Magus Florent shouted.

  “We are not,” Jarvin spoke calmly. “As the lord of Brelland, I vote we support Lord Giles and his plan fully. As King, I demand it of you all as well. Expect visits from my auditors within the month to all major noble houses so that they may be assessed their war tax. Let me be perfectly clear. If my auditors discover anyone withholding information regarding their financial assets, I will view it as treason and you will swing in the plaza.”

  Several amongst the assembly looked as though they wished to speak out, but the King’s voice made it clear he would entertain no more argument on the matter. Jarvin ordered the room cleared and the nobles and representatives filed out.

  “Thank you for backing me, Jarvin,” Azerick said when the room finally emptied.

  “I was afraid not to,” the king replied dryly. “Besides, I believe what you say, and I cannot allow us to fall into complacency. You do understand this is going to place an enormous strain on the kingdom’s resources?”

  “I do, and I plan to use my wealth and resources to their fullest.”

  “Do not expect too many others to follow your example. The people are not going to welcome the idea of mass conscription either. To be honest, that is a greater fear than keeping my nobles in line.”

  “Send criers out with news of Bruneford’s Mill. Employ some artists to paint accurate pictures of the attack and post them around the towns. I find fear one of the more powerful motivators,” Azerick said.

  Jarvin gave a slight nod. “My spies tell me Sumara is conscripting and arming on a large scale. My advisors tell me that could only mean they plan on invading.”

  “My former master was Devlin Sabaht, brother to King Sabaht. I gave him the same information and suggestions I gave here. I asked him to convince his brother to prepare and come to our aid when the Scions invade. Whether they will come or stay to defend their homeland I cannot say.”

  “The war was not so long ago, Azerick. Sumarans on Valerian soil could result in a war on two fronts. You say they may come to help, but many would see it as an invasion of opportunity.”

  “It seems to me that would only strengthen my argument for military preparedness.”

  “Or as an unnecessary distraction. Preparing for the wrong war could be as bad, or worse, than not preparing at all.”

  “I do not care what they think as long as they act. Sumara does not want a war with Valeria, and we will all be too busy fighting for our existence to worry about politics or expansion. When the time comes, even the stupidest, most self-serving of your people will understand that. I just hope the realization does not come too late.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Raijaun and Daebian squared off across from each other seated at Daebian’s chess board. Although Daebian had just begun teaching his little brother how to play, it was their fifth game that day and Raijaun already played at a respectable level.

  Raijaun watched Daebian move his rook to put pressure on his king. “Father is home.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can feel his presence when he is close.”

  “Then we should go welcome him back,” Daebian said and stood up.

  Raijaun smiled. “You just want to go because I was going to beat you this time.”

  “You were going to lose in three moves.”

  “You are bluffing. I was about to take your rook and put your king into check.”

  “Yes you were. You were going to take my rook with your knight. That would clear a path for my bishop. You were then going to put your bishop in my path, but that left an opening for my other bishop to move and trap your king between it and my other rook. Had you left your knight in place, you could have delayed your loss by four more moves, but you were too focused on the quick kill. You see, little brother, these eyes of mine may be weird, but they see ten steps ahead of everything you are going to do.”

  “They are not that weird, certainly not as weird as me.” Raijaun sighed. “At least you look human. I do not fit in anywhere.”

  “Nonsense. You have all kinds of magical power. With that, you fit in here more than I do, especially with Father.”

  “No I don’t. I’m elf, demon, and dragon. What does that make me?” Raijaun asked plaintively.

  “Three different kinds of ugly?” Daebian replied with a smile. “Stop moping. Father is back, and you and he can disappear under the tower just like before.”

  Daebian listened intently as they neared the top of the stairs and heard his parents speaking as they entered the big living room.

  “I think you need to take the time to get to know Daebian,” Miranda was saying. “He is desperate for your attention. I know I need to spend time with Raijaun so I can get to know him better. Technically, I am only his step mother and he is very…different. It would be easier for me if I spent more time with him.”

  “All right, Miranda, but Raijaun and I both have things we must do. I will do my best to make him available to you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Raijaun, catch me,” Daebian said as he turned his back to the top of the stairs and leaned away.

  Raijaun’s eyes flew wide, reached out with surprising speed and strength, and caught the front of Daebian’s shirt. Although he was much smaller than his brother, Raijaun had no problem arresting Daebian’s fall.

  “What are you doing?” Raijaun demanded frightfully.

  “Solving a problem,” Daebian replied as he stabbed Raijaun’s wrist with one of Miranda’s knitting needles.


  Caught by the suddenness of his brother’s attack, Raijaun let slip his grip and watched helplessly as Daebian teetered backward.

  “Raijaun, no don’t!” Daebian cried out as he fell.

  Azerick and Miranda looked up just in time to see Raijaun release his grip. Daebian toppled over and tumbled down the long flight of stairs. Azerick and Miranda raced over and reached him just as he rolled to a stop, holding is left arm and wailing.

  “What is going on?” Miranda demanded as she knelt and held her son.

  “Raijaun pushed me down the stairs!” Daebian cried out, sobbing. “I think my arm is broken!”

  “Raijaun, come down here,” Azerick ordered.

  Raijaun broke out of his spell of bewilderment and slowly descended the stairs. He stopped a few steps up from where his brother laid bawling.

  “Father, I did not push him.”

  “Yes he did, Mother!”

  “Daebian, why would he push you down the stairs?” Miranda asked.

  “He said he was a dragon, elf, and demon and I said that made him three kinds of ugly. He got mad and pushed me. I was just joking!”

  Miranda glared up at Raijaun. “Raijaun, you cannot do this over words! What Daebian said was not right, but you could have seriously hurt him.”

  “But I did not push him. He calls me ugly all the time. It does not bother me much.”

  “I saw you with your hand on him, Raijaun. Do not lie to me.”

  “I was trying to stop him from falling. He stabbed me with a needle,” Raijaun tried to explain.

  “Are you telling me he made himself fall? For what reason? Who would do that?”

  “I do not know why he did it.”

  “I have a healing potion in my lab. I will go get it,” Azerick said.

  Miranda turned her angry eyes on Azerick. “Do not bother. Just take Raijaun with you. I will have Brother Thomas tend to Daebian.”

  Miranda helped her son to his feet and walked toward the door. Azerick laid a hand on Raijaun’s shoulder and guided him toward the basement stairs. He paused and looked back at his departing brother. Daebian looked back at him and smiled, still sobbing.

  “Father, I did not push him, I swear,” Raijaun said as they reached the lab.

  “I know.”

  “We were playing chess all morning and getting along fine. Why would he do that?”

  “There is something off about your brother, Raijaun. I think it best if you stay clear of him as much as possible.”

  “Miranda does not like me. Especially now.”

  “She does not understand you is all. She saw her son hurt by you and is doing as a mother does.”

  “She saw him hurt by a monster,” Raijaun said softly.

  Azerick knelt next to Raijaun and gripped his shoulder tightly. “If there are any monsters around here, it is not you. There is a kindness and gentleness about you I envy. No matter what anyone says or does, never let their stupidities make you feel less about yourself.”

  “Not even Miranda?”

  “Not even me. I have a lot to do here. Why don’t you go find Ellyssa and practice with her and the other students?”

  “Okay, Father.”

  Raijaun pulled his hood over his head as he stepped out of the tower, hiding his face within its deep pocket. His looks made people uncomfortable, which made him uncomfortable. Ellyssa should be at the eastern training field with most of the arcane students. Only the novices continued to study and practice in the classrooms. Everyone else was on the mock battlefield raining down destruction and erecting shields day in and day out.

  Today was full action day. The students formed battle lines and fought hordes of illusory ravagers until they broke. Tomorrow would be a rest day to allow the mages to recuperate. It was not a day off, however. They came to the training ground and studied different scenarios, practiced movement formations, and listened to lectures on how best to use the least amount of magic to affect the greatest return for defensive and offensive actions. Older students helped the younger ones improve their weaves so they did not waste power on inefficient castings.

  It was just after lunch, and a stream of students were filing through the eastern sally gate on their way back to the training ground. Raijaun hung back as the mages began piling up at the gate. Only when the last one passed through did he fall in behind them and followed the mass onto the field.

  Ellyssa, Roger, Joshua, Rusty, and three other full wizards waited patiently as their students formed into six platoons of fifty. Compared to the precision of the martial students, their ranks left much to be desired, but they were learning. Ellyssa spotted Raijaun trailing behind the rest and called him over.

  “Raijaun, how are you doing?”

  “I am okay. Father wanted me to practice with the others today.”

  “Okay. You are probably the strongest caster here, so I will put you in the center. Do you know what we are doing here?”

  “I do. I have watched you from the walls.”

  “Good. The platoon leaders and I will be conjuring illusions of ravagers. There are going to be a lot of them, but just remember, they are only illusions. You aren’t meant to win, only to fight until they break through. Then we talk about how to do better next time.”

  “Okay.”

  “Fall in to third platoon’s first rank. Remember, these are just illusions,” Ellyssa reminded him, concerned about how he had reacted in Bruneford’s Mill.

  Raijaun nodded and shuffled over to the third platoon. The closest students to him shied away, making him an island in a sea of people.

  “Who told you to break ranks?” Ellyssa shouted. “Roger, control your platoon!”

  Roger flicked a glance at Ellyssa. “Form back up, people. Raijaun is no different than any other student here.”

  The ranks closed back up marginally but still with a noticeable gap. Unkind whispers and a few scoffed mutterings passed between ranks until Roger ordered them to silence.

  “Swords to the fore,” Ellyssa shouted, her voice magically amplified for all to hear. “Shields form to the rear.”

  The strongest students marched forward to provide the offensive magic used to slay the invaders while the less adept mages stayed several yards back to provide wards against any enemy who made it through the hail of destruction. The training field already displayed the abuse the mages had wrought upon it. Acres of churned and scorched ground lay fallow and would take years to recover before anything would likely grow upon it.

  Ellyssa and her fellow instructors spread out to the far corners and began conjuring their enemy. It took them almost a week of practice to create illusory ravagers who moved with the speed and power of what Ellyssa saw in Bruneford’s Mill. Few would mistake them for anything except an illusion, however. They had to sacrifice visual quality to create the numbers they needed to press so many students. As the mages got better, they would need more wizards to create enough illusions to continue challenging the students.

  A thousand ravagers materialized a quarter mile away from the leading ranks of mages and quickly ate up the ground between them. The students designated as shields were the first to act, erecting wards and barriers of raised earth and stone to slow the charging ravagers and to stop any who might get through the sword’s spells long enough to strike them down.

  Raijaun watched as the first spells began to fly and decimate the onrushing ravagers. Most students hurled fireballs, lightning, and bright balls or rays of arcane magic, which Raijaun emulated as well. As the number of ravagers increased, Raijaun saw their spells were becoming less effective. The horde spread out and even the large blasts of fire struck only a few at a time. More and more were getting through the onslaught to crash against the wards created by the shields.

  Raijaun shifted his focus to the ground and raised a wall of earth ten feet high and a hundred yards long. Several students cried out as it blocked their view of the battlefield. Raijaun ignored them and sent power into the wall, breaking it apart into thousands
of earthen spears hovering for moment in the air before launching as swiftly as arrows into the tide of enemy. Although the spell was devastating to the illusions, he quickly realized that this spell would be far less effective against creatures with real mass.

  Diaphanous bubbles floated from the ground and into the air by the dozens. When the sun struck the orbs, intense beams of concentrated sunlight lanced down into the ranks of ravagers. Raijaun saw his spell was insufficient to deal with the overwhelming threat, but instead of conjuring more bubbles, he shaped them into prisms. The prisms split the beams of light into multiple rays, rotating and dancing across the battlefield, destroying scores of enemy.

  “That is a very interesting spell,” Rusty said to Ellyssa.

  “It certainly is. We will have to see if we can adapt it for the wizards to use. What is more impressive is his aura. Look, he is not coming close to using his full potential.”

  Rusty shifted is sight and saw Ellyssa was correct. Although the power Raijaun channeled was remarkable, especially considering he looked the equivalent of a six-year-old, both wizards could tell he was not straining himself.

  “Let’s see if we can push him a bit.”

  Ellyssa signaled the other instructors and increased the tide of invaders. More ravagers slammed against the shields’ wards as the swords fought desperately to slay them. Raijaun sensed their impending defeat and sent his arcane senses out into the ether. A massive well of power lay just beyond his “fingertips”, but he could not make himself grab hold of it. The energy loomed like a giant, a giant that would break his bones and crush them all flat if he dared disturb it. He withdrew his grasping tendrils of magic, quaking inside from fear of the pain he knew would come and the uncontrolled destruction it could cause.

  It did not take long before wards began to fail and ravagers descended on the humans. Just before the creatures would have cut into the wizards, they vanished. Raijaun stared at the ground, ashamed of himself for knowing he could have destroyed the ravagers but chose not to out of fear.

  “Fall in!” Ellyssa shouted over the tumult of voices. “You are all dead. Why?”