The Nemedian Trilogy: Book 01 - The Wizard's Magic Kingdom

by Jake Adler

  Both Cara and Master Bedwyr halted their incantations and the three companions now leaned back in relief to view the result of their exertions.

  “Congratulations,” sneered a voice from the shadows.

  A figure quickly emerged into the camp to reveal the grinning face of Bindan the ferryman. He had somehow managed to follow them out of Dukar. A brief lick of his lips revealed that the man was enjoying himself.

  Ethan could perceive the vague shapes of others shifting in the shadows. For a moment, both Ethan and Cara looked blankly at each other and then suddenly leapt to their feet, drawing their short swords, their eyes scanning for danger. They now stood either side of Master Bedwyr who had remained seated.

  “How can we help you and your friends Bindan?” Master Bedwyr enquired as he pushed his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

  Unnerved at the calm demeanor of the old man, Bindan paused. Something was wrong.

  After a quick glance into the shadows for reassurance, Bindan snorted. He had travelled too far to leave with nothing. The boy clearly had something of value and he wanted it. Of course, that would mean their deaths to ensure their silence, but he had done such things before. The old man was nothing but a fool who knew a few magic tricks. The girl and boy were no threat at all and besides, he had brought backup. They were as good as dead.

  “Tell me where the money is and I might let you live,” he lied, offering an unconvincing smile. They might have buried their treasure somewhere nearby and he needed to learn where they had hidden it before slitting their throats.

  “We have no money Bindan,” Master Bedwyr replied as he rose slowly to his feet and rolled back his sleeves.

  For the second time, Bindan felt unnerved. For all the years that he had been the ferryman at the port of Milvin he had never seen the old man do anything more than a few magic tricks. Surely he posed no threat?

  “You must all leave now or I will be forced to kill you.” Master Bedwyr announced quietly with a dark expression that made Bindan’s blood freeze.

  “Enough of these wind spitters!” An angry voice growled from the darkness. A dagger whistled closely Ethan’s face and he gasped out loud in fear.

  Suddenly, out of the shadows three heavyset men, dressed in similar scruffy attire to that of Bindan charged the group. Yelling battle cries, the first attacker reached Ethan who managed to jerk his head back just in time to miss the vicious swipe of a blade. Stumbling back in terror, Ethan instinctively raised his short sword to block a second attack aimed at his belly. Ethan gasped the words, “Semper Ignis”, raising his free hand as he fell backwards towards the earth. Nothing happened. In the brief second that his brain had to process the situation, he recalled the need to imagine the object or person actually being on fire.

  “Semp-,” Ethan began to speak again, but was interrupted by the need to roll sharply to his left in order to avoid the downward thrust of a sword.

  He would not get the chance to roll again. The man had leapt on top of him and now had his full body weight on Ethan, pinning him to the ground. He saw the man raise his sword arm for a fourth time, unable to move, Ethan closed his eyes to wait for the inevitable.

  Ethan did not die. To his surprise he felt the weight of the man disappear at the same time as hearing a blood curdling scream. He quickly opened his eyes to see the body of his attacker some ten yards away, the last vestiges of magical power still flickering around his burning corpse.

  Master Bedwyr, eyes as dark as thunder, stood in the centre of the camp site, his arms pointing towards the second attacker, a ring on both of his hands burning with the brightest blue-white light that Ethan had ever seen. Lightening crackled from his fingertips a second time as he attempted to kill yet another assailant. The man deftly avoided the attack with a swift roll to his right.

  Ethan’s eyes darted towards the last place he had seen Cara to see her tackled to the ground. Bindan was nowhere to be seen. Before Ethan could act, the attacker had raised a clenched fist and Ethan could hear the chilling sound of bone on bone as Cara was knocked out cold.

  Rising quickly to his feet off the now unconscious form of Cara, the man quickly turned to join the third assailant as they moved in towards Master Bedwyr. With eyes narrowed, Master Bedwyr pointed his arms towards his attackers, his body shimmering with an intense magical power that now pulsated within him. With a quick nod to one another, the attackers raised their swords and charged.

  Ethan yelled and scrambled to his feet. The men ignored him. Flanking each side of Master Bedwyr they had nearly reached him when out of nowhere, large tree roots burst out of the ground to ensnare their legs. The roots were strong and thick and Ethan could hear the sounds of bending and cracking wood as they curled fluidly around the attackers. With the rings on his hands now glowing brighter than ever, Master Bedwyr waved his arm in a spiral motion, finally halting once the roots had encircled their necks. The two men were now locked in place, clearly frightened, their thoughts of murder forgotten.

  Ethan looked around quickly, and began to speak but Master Bedwyr silenced him with a finger to his lips nod toward the darkness. Sensing the presence of Bindan nearby, the Grand Mage raised both his arms and clasped fingers together to form the shape of a globe. This shape rapidly became a gigantic orb of white light, opening up his palms, the ball of blue-white light then floated above the head of the Grand Master some fifteen feet. Night was transformed into day. The crouching form of a now surprised looking Bindan could be some twenty feet away. The would-be murderer let out a muffled cry and scrambled to his feet, turned his back and ran.

  Master Bedwyr was not done. There would be no escape for Bindan. There could be no return to Dukar for either of them now until one of them was dead.

  Master Bedwyr rapidly raised his arms, flicking forward his two index fingers towards the fleeing figure of Bindan. For the third time that evening, Ethan saw the power of lightening leap out from the hands of the Grand Mage. This time, though, the power was concentrated within two thick streams of blue-white light. The first stream missed Bindan completely but the second one hit him squarely in the back and he fell without a sound.

  Master Bedwyr slowly turned his attentions back to the remaining two men, now whimpering in fear, their eyes wide in terror.

  “What will you do with them?” whispered Ethan as he ran towards Master Bedwyr.

  “I shall send a message to Master Zilvan at the College of Mages of what has happened and tell him of their location. The local authorities can deal with them.” Master Bedwyr shot Ethan a sharp look, “know this young man, I will kill but only when I have to.”

  Master Bedwyr’s nodded towards the motionless form of Cara, “Go to her, I think that she needs you.”

  “Cara –,” Ethan began to speak, suddenly remembering what he had seen.

  With tears welling up in his eyes he ran to her and knelt down. Her face was ghostly white, save for a rather ugly looking purple bruise that had already begun to appear on the left side of face. Her eyes were closed but the steady the rise and fall of her chest informed him that her breathing even and strong.

  Instinctively he touched the right side of her cheek and spoke her name softly. Cara did not stir. Grabbing hold of a nearby blanket laid it on top of her, taking great care to tuck its edges around her body and neck to keep her warm.

  “I’m useless!” he growled, wiping away a bead of sweat on his face.

  Master Bedwyr stared at him wordlessly for a few moments and then spoke.

  “Come walk with me my lad,” he said softly, nodding towards the direction of the tethered horses some fifteen yards away. “We must speak privately,” he glanced sharply at the two entrapped attackers.

  Slowly, Ethan followed Master Bedwyr out of the campsite into the surrounding darkness. The moon and stars had brightened in the night sky and he glanced at Master Bedwyr expectantly.

  For a moment, the Grand Mage remained silent. A deep frown was furrowed across
his brow and Ethan noticed that his right hand gently cupped the edges of the book that he always carried with him in his left breast pocket. Finally he adjusted his spectacles and spoke.

  “There is much that I haven’t told you and much that you must learn before this night is over,” he trailed off momentarily then continued, “tonight you saw the purest of magic. Lightening is not just elemental fire, air, earth or water but a combination elemental and spirit magic.” He moved his right hand towards Ethan and nodded towards the ring on his right index finger.

  “This ring possesses a spirit within it. With this ring, I am able to conjure the most powerful of spells by the use of thought alone.”

  Ethan nodded, “That makes sense as I noticed that you didn’t speak.”

  “Indeed. Such items also serve to keep secret powerful magical incantations,” a small smile touched his lips, “besides careless users of such words may cause great harm in the wrong hands.”

  “Does everyone in Nemedia have magical ability?” asked Ethan.

  The Grand Mage stared at him expressionlessly for a moment then shook his head.

  “No, but not everyone is tested for it. There will be those who will never know that they possess the ability.”

  “You do realise that we all nearly died tonight?” Ethan asked quietly.

  The Grand Mage paused a moment then laid a reassuring hand of Ethan’s shoulder. “Yes I do my boy and that is why I am giving both you and Cara a spirit ring.” Ethan looked up in surprise as the Master Bedwyr continued, “Such items should not normally be in the hands of the inexperienced, but tonight has shown that you both need to converse with one.”

  “Converse with one?” Ethan repeated the words with a look of confusion.

  Master Bedwyr smiled faintly, “Remember that these rings possess within them a spirit”. He reached into his breast pocket, drawing out a small red box containing two golden rings topped with a pure white diamond, “Take one,” he said offering the box to Ethan.

  Gingerly Ethan took one of the rings and placed it on the index finger of his right hand, matching the ring finger he’d seen chosen by the Grand Mage. The ring fitted him perfectly and felt pleasantly warm to the touch. Almost immediately he could sense the presence of another. The presence did not talk with words, but with a flurry of excited images and emotions.

  “It will take you some time to master your connection with one another,” he stated, “however as the days and weeks pass, your bonds of communication with one another will strengthen.” He looked at Ethan in earnest, “You must never let this ring fall into the hands of another and under no circumstances must you reveal any details about it.”

  “And what of it’s magic?” Ethan asked staring at it intently.

  Master Bedwyr scanned the darkened horizon, “In your head, call out the name of your spirit ring. The spirit was once a man. He no longer remembers himself as a man, but still responds to the name Alexon. Inside your mind, speak the word Fulgoris to call for lightning. The ring will hear you.”

  “What other words can you teach me, I must learn as many as possible,” pressed Ethan.

  Master Bedwyr paused momentarily. “I can tell you a few others as it seems that you must learn them far quicker than I had anticipated.” He stroked his chin reflectively, “If you are falling or need to levitate try Volo. To call for ice shards you could try Glacialis. To turn your outer shell into stone to protect yourself from injury you could try Lapis Scutum.”

  “And how do I bring roots from out of the ground?” enquired Ethan, his eyes now closed in deep concentration.

  “That is something that a handful of words cannot achieve my boy.” Master Bedwyr replied as he stared intently at Ethan, “it is something that I do very rarely as it corrupts nature and forces living things into unnatural shapes.” He sighed deeply, with a look of great pain, “I dislike manipulating living things but it was all I could think of at the time to stop those men without killing them.”

  His eyes glinted in the moonlight, “We have spoken long enough this night.” He moved away from Ethan and headed back towards the campsite.

  Ethan watched the receding form of the Grand Mage for a short time, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts. He could detect the definite presence of the spirit at the back of his subconscious. The presence seemed to sense the need for quiet now as Ethan followed the Grand Mage towards the campsite. With a quick glance at Cara, Ethan set his sleeping blanket close to hers and noted with interest that Master Bedwyr was already asleep. The two prisoners seemed entirely subdued. Satisfied that all was well, Ethan closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep.

  Chapter 7

  Over her right shoulder, Ellaminva could see the ominous peaks of Devil’s Ridge. The savage and harsh mountain range ran across the entire backbone of the Eastern edges of the lands of Nemedia and many a tale existed of unwary travelers disappearing within them without trace. Instinctively, Ellaminva tugged on the reins and Vank immediately responded, altering their direction away from the mountains towards the North West. The sun was dipping behind the horizon and dark angry clouds were now gathering above. There was no longer enough daylight remaining for a safe return to Scribillon. Ellaminva realised with a faint smile that she had always planned for this and now had the perfect excuse to stay overnight with Uncle Hallapind who lived in a small village south of Lolivam. He would of course, disapprove when he learned that she had not informed her father of her journey, but this response would be short-lived, as he was always delighted to see his favorite niece.

  Her eyes scanned the horizon and immediately located the distant silhouettes of The Two Ladies of Grace. These two natural landmarks were fabled as once having been two princesses that had turned themselves into stone to protect the land from evil. For the first time, Ellaminva had the opportunity to admire these two landmarks from above, which themselves stood over three hundred feet high. In reality, they were nothing more than two oversized hillocks. However, to an untrained eye, they did vaguely resemble the image of two women with their arms stretching up towards the heavens.

  Ellaminva decided that it was time to update Vank of her plans, “We are going to stay overnight at Uncle Hallapind’s,” she shouted over the loud beating of Vank’s wings.

  “Fabulous!” Vank replied, who sensed that Ellaminva was up to mischief. Vank didn’t mind as he was always received lots of wonderful meals when he visited her uncle.

  Ellaminva grinned in response and leaned forward to point Vank’s gaze towards an ideal landing site. This would be the first time that Ellaminva had visited her uncle while riding Vank. She knew his back garden like the back of her hand and had already decided that the safest place would be just south of his rather sizeable duck pond. The grasses there were very long and springy, which would come in handy if there was need for a cushioned landing.

  Vank raised back his head and narrowed his eyes in concentration as he changed his angle of descent. Flapping his powerful wings furiously he brought forward his hind legs in preparation for touchdown. Ellaminva hung on tight and gripped in her thighs in hard to maintain a proper hold as the forces of gravity and Dragon fought against one another. To both their surprise, he managed a perfect landing. Vank’s powerful hind legs deftly touched the ground and there was little vibration, save for the great gusts of wind generated by his massive wings. With a satisfied smile, he folded in his wings and snorted.

  Slipping quickly out of her riding saddle she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly, “Well done my darling. You are now officially a perfect riding Dragon,” she beamed a smile at him as tears welled up in her eyes.

  He dropped his head and nuzzled her neck affectionately, “I am also a perfectly hungry Dragon!” he chuckled, raising his head to quickly locate Hallapind’s cottage. All that flying with the added weight of a passenger, he’d expended a massive amount of energy and he could feel his stomach rumbling in protest.

  Moving quickly they made their way towards her unc
le’s cottage. The pretty white stone building lay situated towards the Western edge of the village and Ellaminva smiled as viewed in the distance its quirky looking chimney.

  It was now early evening. The night lamps had already been lit and the village was surrounded in a warm golden glow. As they neared the cottage they could hear raised voices originating from the direction of the Town Hall. Curious to learn about the raucous, they pressed forward through the milling crowd.

  “I tell you that the Fairy must be mistaken!” an angry looking Elven man exclaimed.

  “Our brothers in the Fae don’t make mistakes.” Nillapon responded who was the village leader.

  “It makes no sense!” pressed the man, glancing around him in an attempt to gain support from the crowd, “how can we be expected to respond on the say so of just one aberrant Fairy?”

  “This is no aberrant Fairy!” Nillapon snapped. His eyes narrowed and he stabbed a thin finger at the Elf, “Don’t you dare question the integrity of any of the Fae!”

  The Elf, clearly shocked at the uncharacteristic anger of Nillapon swallowed hard and remained silent.

  Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, Nillapon closed his eyes momentarily and then spoke, “What the Fairy says is true. He will tell you again what he has seen when he looked into the waters.”

  The crowd murmured nervously at the appearance of the Fairy from behind Nillapon. He was no taller than the span of a man’s hand. His face and body possessed an androgynous beauty and grace that took Ellaminva’s breath away. His wings seemed to flap so quickly that they almost looked like they stood still and she noticed that his hair and eyes were the colour of the brightest summer skies.

  For a moment the crowd murmured in appreciation at beautiful creature that they saw before them. To this day, the Fairies had remained a secretive race and to see one this far South was extremely unusual.

  “My brothers and sisters,” spoke the Fairy, his voice surprisingly strong and deep given his diminutive stature, “I have looked into the waters of Lake Diabhal and seen a dark prophesy.” At these first words the murmurings of the crowd grew louder, yet still the voice of the Fairy remained heard, “I saw a dark hand rise out from the veil to strangle off the threads of magic that weave life throughout our lands. As the threads became destroyed, I saw the death of all livings things. I saw the shadow spread and the world become a desert.”