The Reign of Magic (Pentamura Book 1)

by Awert, Wolf

  The prince laughed. “I knew I found the right man in you.”

  Nill took every free afternoon as an opportunity for his long marches throughout Ringwall. On these he often visited Growarth. In the afternoons the hall was often empty, the long benches lying deserted in the shadow of the tables. Occasionally a small group of white mages would be huddled in a corner or a few older students easily recognizable by their colorful attire and loud voices.

  The corridor leading there was also the only passage at that level connecting the Earth and Metal quarters. If Nill managed to reach the kitchens he was able to avoid the hall entirely using the hallways the mucklings used to enter the kitchen. But still there were short stretches where Nill found himself entirely visible. He was not afraid of single students, but a group of them was a whole different matter.

  He did not know why he chose to stop there for a moment today. Perhaps it was because the hall was deserted. Even the tables near the windows were unoccupied. One lonesome young man wearing a dark blue tunic and a round-hat adorned with a feather sat on a bench. He was completely silent and engaged in writing something with a brush of Furmouse hairs.

  A naked blade on the table would have surprised Nill less than the graceful motions with which the brush danced. Even while dipping the tip back into the ink it had a playful, tender quality to it. This was an artist, not a warrior. He was leaning into the shadows of a corner where a long table and one of the columns gave him some cover. This posture was rather uncomfortable and Nill had to bend over forwards and steady himself on the table. There was something stuck to it. He looked at his hand and had to smile. He had squashed a few crumbs of dough flat. Apparently the mucklings had not yet found the time to clean the tables. Nill concentrated and thought Bread light, air heavy, and actually managed to loosen the crumbs from the table.

  “That’s one way of doing kitchen duty,” he muttered happily. It was no big leap from kitchen duty to a plan. Nill adopted a servile posture and began to brush away some more imaginary crumbs. So he went from table to table, pretending to clean each table top until he reached the young man. Three more steps and he would be able to peer over his shoulder.

  “You’ve an interesting way of cleaning tables,” the young man said without looking up from his work. “And highly unusual for a muckling to use magic while doing so, or did I miss something? For a moment I thought I detected some magical energy behind that pillar over there. I suppose you’re one of the three strange new students. But if that’s the case, why are you doing kitchen duty?”

  The young man put a finishing stroke on his paper and then turned around to look Nill straight in the face.

  Nill found himself caught and looked somewhat embarrassed. “I’m not really on kitchen duty. I thought I’d try moving something. I’m not exactly what you’d call a powerful neophyte.”

  “Come, sit with me.”

  Although his tone was more commanding than inviting Nill accepted the offer quite happily, as this would grant him vision of what the young man had been doing all this time. He had covered his parchment with large symbols. The whole thing looked like a mixture of empty but beautiful ornaments and mysterious runes and letters. The young man countered Nill’s curious gaze.

  “No, no, it’s not magic,” he answered Nill’s unspoken question. “Or maybe it is? Who knows.” He looked away coltishly.

  “These are important symbols of nature. Base elements that make up many things. I’m compiling them to find out whether they have some hidden meaning, and whether I can use that knowledge. Magical symbols developed too, didn’t they? Unfortunately their story is long and old, and nobody can or wants to give me information on their origin. We learn them to memorize them, but we know nothing of them. I prefer knowing what I’m doing.”

  “Are you a White Mage? You don’t really look like one.”

  “No, I’m a neophyte in my last winter.”

  “But why are you trying to answer questions about the nature of magic? I thought that’s what the white mages do.”

  The blue-clad man gave him a stern look. “Tell me who determines which task is for which sorcerer. Tell me who decides what a sorcerer is to learn and what not. Well?”

  The “well” cracked at Nill like a whip. Nill stayed quiet for a while and frowned. He had always thought these things were given order like clothing, grouping, addressing… He began to doubt that. He shook his head. “Tell me.”

  The answer came from above. “You do. You are solely responsible for all that you learn and all that you do. You can do whatever you want as long as you know what you’re doing. Your teachers will only show you that which they think is most important for everyone. They have it all sequenced out: first you learn the magic of the five elements, then illusions and in the end some choice nuggets about spheres. They say that the sphere magic unites the elemental magics in a specific way. As such it’s not necessarily good to teach to the average neophyte. But I’ll tell you something: your teachers can be wrong, too. Couldn’t it be the other way around? That the elemental magics formed out of the spheres? And who’s to say that a mage must always fight, and that students of magic mustn’t find their own answers to their questions?”

  The dismissive tone in the older student’s voice had disappeared completely. His eyes shone with passion.

  “Tell me, do you have many friends among the students?” Nill asked.

  The young man gave a double-take and burst out in laughter. He pushed his round-cap back so far that the feather touched his back.

  “What a bizarre question to ask! I’m telling you something about the art of learning magic and you ask about my friends? Well, no, as a matter of fact I have barely any friends. I have different wishes and goals from most students here. And if you’ve a different goal there’s not much left to connect you, or to talk about. No, I have no friends, but, and this is important, no enemies either.”

  “All I have are enemies,” Nill said. “Mostly,” he hurried to finish as he thought of Brolok. They were almost friends, and Tiriwi was not an enemy although she was a little strange. And Growarth, he thought, Growarth had helped him.

  “What did you expect? You don’t belong. You’re not a noble like us, and even if you are it’s from an unknown lineage, and that’s worse than being a muckling. And to the mucklings you’re an arcanist which makes you not one of them. You have no past behind you, and nobody knows what to think of you. Nobody feels comfortable around you because nobody knows how to deal with you.” The young man nodded and added: “That’s pretty bad.” His face betrayed no sympathy, however, but rather a cheeky grin. “Make something of it.”

  Nill began to feel annoyed. He didn’t like it when people around him laughed at something he did not understand.

  “What am I to make of it? It’s not a nice feeling, being bashed around, but you know nothing of that.”

  “You’re either a fool or still too young to understand what you’re saying. It’s much the same thing. What do you know about me? I’ll tell you something about being bashed around. That’ll happen your whole life. It’s your choice: either you find a group of people you’d like to join and try to become like them. Or you spend your days roaming around, never feeling at home. Safety and security versus adventure and freedom. Believe me, you’re not the only one to have to make a choice.”

  Freedom. It was what Nill so longed for, but as much if not more he wanted friends. Why in the name of all demons was life so complicated?

  “For now I’d be happy if my magic didn’t always disturb everything and I could do more than just lift breadcrumbs,” Nill said after a long pause.

  “Do you know why your magic disturbs everything?” the young noble asked.

  “Sure,” Nill replied. “I’ve never practiced. Everyone else already knew some magic before they came here, everyone except me.”

  “You’re wrong. Knowing magic beforehand isn’t an advantage, it’s a hindrance. Powerful magic is only possible if it’s understood.
Those who know something already are just using magic with half-knowledge, and the teachers’ primary task is to correct all those mistakes. You may not be able to do anything yet – apart from lifting crumbs, pardon me – but you’re not getting anything wrong, either.”

  “Can you show me something that’ll be less easy to mess up?” Nill asked.

  The hint of a smile flashed across the young man’s face. He made a small gesture and suddenly a shadowy figure was sitting on Nill’s right shoulder. Nill could not see what it was, but a wave of panic crashed over him nonetheless. His heart was vibrating like a well-used anvil; cold sweat ran down his brow and over his eyes. The thing on his shoulder was a small creature with a round back, muscly arms and clawed hands. The hairless head was of commendable ugliness. Although its only motion was a twitching of the head, an aura emanated from it that threatened to swallow Nill whole. Nill tried to cautiously push the thing off of his shoulder, but retracted his hand hastily as a fang-filled mouth opened to greet it.

  “What is it?” he asked fearfully.

  The creature grew a little larger and heavier. Nill’s shoulder was aching under the ever increasing pressure. He gave the thing a strong push but it had struck its claws firmly into his shirt and did not budge an inch. Nill fell to his knees – the weight was too much. As he was about fall over sideways the creature vanished again.

  “What was all that about?” he asked angrily as he got back up.

  “Simple and effective. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? It was a Thorwag, a small demon; harmless, but very useful. I thought up the trick with the growing weight, by the way. It worked quite well and you had no way of stopping it.”

  “How could I have? And what use is that thing, anyway?” Nill’s breath was slowly returning to normal, and his heartbeat had calmed down considerably.

  “I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it yet. Find it out yourself if you want to see what you can use it for.”

  “Is there a counter spell?” Nill asked.

  “Yes, quite a few, actually. Everyone who knows a bit about the Other World’s magic can send a Thorwag back whence he came.”

  “But what’s the whole thing even for?” Nill was torn between the horror that had recently left him and the excitement of being on the verge of a new discovery.

  “Didn’t you notice your own reaction? At first you were scared, then you thought about what options you had, then you tried to get rid of it.”

  “But you said there’s an easy way to do just that.” Nill still did not understand.

  “Of course, but first, there’s something on your shoulder, very close to your exposed neck. It’s hissing with foul breath. You can’t make it out; all of a sudden it attacks in a way you’d not expected. Rather than slashing your throat it takes you down to the floor. While you’re on the floor trying to get rid of the creature I could be doing all sorts of undesirable things to you.”

  Nill looked thoughtful. “So it’s a diversion, a way to buy some time. Yes, it’s quite the clever idea. And how do you fight such a demon?”

  The young mage’s head swayed thoughtfully. “Not with an elemental spell. Perhaps a Water spell, but your best bet is a spell of the Other World.”

  “And could you show me how to summon a Thorwag?” Nill asked hopefully.

  “No, no, that would be far too dangerous for you. That would take a spell of Beyond. You couldn’t control that yet, but I can help you a bit. Pay attention, now.”

  The Thorwag reappeared on Nill’s left shoulder.

  “Just let him sit there. Don’t fear him, but feel his presence.” The young man’s voice was soothing, but Nill felt the panic rising up in him again. He forced himself to look at the Thorwag but it did not help much. The aura was what really threatened him. He had only seen something like that once before. The black that seemed to constantly morph into blood red and back again, never still, and as if it wanted to absorb Nill’s own power, embracing his aura. Nill shut his eyes and tried to force back the black aura when suddenly the creature disappeared with a plop.

  “You didn’t look good. I’m not sure what scares you so about a Thorwag. I sent him away again. He’s not really dangerous at all. Why are you so afraid? You don’t look like a yellow coward to me.”

  “The black-red, overwhelming aura. It’s awful,” Nill whispered.

  The young man gave a low whistle, the cheeky smirk wiped off his face completely. His voice became quieter and he matched Nill’s whisper. “Can you really see demons’ auras? If that’s true, tell nobody of it. Understood? Nobody. Most sorcerers are glad if they can see their counterpart’s aura. You seem to live quite close to the Other World.”

  Nill enjoyed the admiration, but he knew that it was a good idea to change the subject. Auras seemed a bit of a risky one to talk about. “I don’t think I’ve much interest in the magic of Beyond. I prefer animals and plants.” Now he was treading safer ground again.

  “Nobody can do everything,” the older student replied. “Not even the greatest of the mages. There are spells for humans, for spirits and demons, for plants and animals; they are used only for those particular subjects and have little effect on others.”

  “So what if I used a demon spell on a plant, or a plant spell on a person?” Nill asked. He was glad to have finally found someone willing to share his knowledge.

  “It works, sort of. But I found out something far better. Demon spells can sometimes be combined with human or animal spells. It doesn’t work for plants, but humans and animals are fair game. Another thing your teachers will never tell you.”

  Nill was disquieted. Was there really no way to work it on plants? Something was pushing him to retreat to a hidden corner and test these new ideas, but he resisted the temptation; he did not want to leave his new acquaintance so quickly. He made a mental note to try combining plant and demon spells, but first he needed to learn how to even cast spells. Then he would learn combination. He realized that he had not even succeeded in casting a simple fireball and his mind was back in reality.

  “You seem quite experienced in the magic of the Other World,” he said flatteringly.

  “There are only two ways to learn of the Other World’s magic. Either you become a mage and you get help from your brothers, or you have to find out yourself. It’s not without danger, though.” The student’s eyes flashed again. He seemed to relish in the idea of magical adventures. “And then of course the animals. Have you ever used magic on one?” he asked Nill. “The next time you call an animal and it actually comes, try to figure out how you did it. And once you’ve understood how, try it on a human. Be careful with it, and only do it once.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s incredibly rude. And if someone notices that, they’ll get very, very angry with you.” The young man wagged a finger at him and chortled. “But if you’ve nothing but enemies anyway, you’ve not much to lose.” He stood up and took his parchment and brush. “It’s time for me to go now. Our conversation was rather fun. Remember my guidance: try and understand magic before you use it. Even our teachers aren’t all-knowing. And if I happen to be here again, don’t hesitate to sit by me; you needn’t clean the tables first.”

  Nill accepted the offer solemnly and waved after the vanishing figure. The great hall was now completely empty. Nill sat alone at a table, clearly visible for anyone who passed through the corridor. He had forgotten his caution. Words and phrases echoed in his head, reverberating and reforming, breaking apart and flitting away. Every minimal contact of two thoughts sparked a new idea. Thorwag. Demons. Strange auras. You are solely responsible for all that you learn and all that you do. Short impressions that bridged back to long-forgotten sentences. “You seem more permeable than most people.” “You live close to the beyond, my boy.” “What I want of you? You’re the one who’s searching.”

  Although the magic seemed no more obedient than before, Nill knew that he stood upon the doorstep of the realm of magic and needed only ta
ke one small step.

  “If you can summon animals, you can send them away again. Does that work for people, too?”

  Some time later, on his way back to the caves, he looked out through a window and saw a small mocker fly past. He could not resist. He made a few quiet clicking sounds and the mocker approached the window. It leapt from branch to branch, then landed on a diminutive sapling. It was coming steadily closer. Nill clicked a few more times and the mocker hopped about excitedly on the windowsill.

  Nill smiled. He had always liked this kind of thing. He called the birds in their own language – or so he had thought until now. He hesitated. That was, on second thought, impossible. The first sounds he made were too far away for the birds to hear. The last ones, sure; but what brought the birds to him in the first place?

  He closed his eyes and emptied his mind. When he opened his eyes the mocker was back in the air. Nill clicked again. An image formed before his inner eye. It showed the bird approaching inquisitively. There was a short rustling and the bird landed on the sapling again. Nill imagined the bird being dragged towards him by some unyielding force. There was another short rustling and the bird flew away.

  It would not be as easy as he had thought. But Nill was certain he would find out exactly how to do it before long. It had to be effortless. Coming was pleasure, curiosity; there was no force in it. Forcing meant expulsion, which was fright, anger, caution. He would know soon enough. This was a lot more to his liking than practicing his fireballs.

  Nill’s chest felt like it might explode with all the new things he had learned; he wanted nothing more right now than to return to the Hermits’ Caves immediately and tell Brolok and Tiriwi all about his chance meeting with the strange student and his shenanigans with the bird. But he tamed himself; today was not the right moment for that. Tiriwi would not be amused at all. At this thought a veil of sadness fell over Nill’s happiness and suffocated the lightness and motion in him. He felt leaden.