~
And so I trained. My days, or sleep cycles, began to blend together and I completely lost track of time. I became lost in the magic, trying new things every day. I stuck with only using wind magic until one day, after I had been training for many days without having the ache in my mind, I wanted to try something different. I could call forth a strong gale, strong enough to knock a person over. I could push aside the swing of an oncoming sword, though that was a more focused wind stream. The more I experimented with wind, the more I thought of the other elements. I thought it would be handy if I could start a fire with just a simple thought, so that was what I focused on doing.
My first attempt was the worst. I was sitting down cross legged once again when I attempted to light a small branch on fire. I visualized that branch in flames and pushed my magic onto the image. The branch lit up, flames covering the length of the stick I had lain on some dirt. I did it!
But then I felt the pain. I grasped my head with both hands, the fire now forgotten. The mind ache returned, stronger than ever before. I also felt my magic had weakened considerably, and I usually only felt that when I had been using wind magic for long periods of time. I winced as the pain surged again in my mind. I crawled into the tiny hut and collapsed on the floor. The last thing I thought before I passed out was that this could be good training for my attempt to remove the curse.
Following my attempt at fire magic, I realized why mages stuck to their attuned element. It was much harder to use and train magic from another element outside of your own. Two good things came from my attempt, though. The first was that it gave me a way to train myself for the pain I would experience while removing the curse. I wasn’t sure if it would be as extreme as using fire magic had been, but I didn’t want to let this opportunity slip by.
The second good thing that came about from my experiment was that it brought to mind a memory from the past. It was when I was a small boy, playing outside all day. I had returned home to find my face burning with heat, though not from the sun.
I asked my mother what was wrong, and she had smiled at me while saying, “Ah, you are slightly windburned is all. It’s nothing to worry about and should clear up soon enough.”
I had no reason to doubt her and, true to my mother’s words, it only lasted a few days before it cleared up. The good thing that came from the memory was that the wind could burn. This gave me the idea that I could use my wind magic to start a fire. So, each day, I began to experiment starting fires with wind magic in between bouts of using actual fire magic for pain training.
It took me many failures before I finally had a success. I finally realized that the wind needed to be squeezed or wrapped tightly and that it needed to be rotating at the highest speed I could get it. Once I accomplished that, I took the rotating, compressed wind and had it connect with the branch. It only took a few moments for a tendril of smoke to begin rising and then a flame appeared. I had actually used wind magic to create a fire!
This success made me want to see what other things I could do with wind magic, and so I experimented even more. Time was passing, but learning new magic and training through the pain everyday made it pass quickly. Another use of magic that I learned was that if I compressed wind magic enough, I could use it as a blade. I formed a windblade from magic and attempted to hit a tree with it. At first, it dissipated on contact, but after enough trial and error I had succeeded in making a windblade that could cut and withstand an impact.
Relentlessly, I practiced my wind magic. Day after day, I honed it to perfection until I could make a windblade with but a thought or create a strong gust of wind in the blink of an eye. I now realized what the master had meant, when Amara had taken me to be tested. He had said my magic capacity was low. I found this to be true as I could carry a windblade in my hand for hours, yet I could only hold a ten foot wall of wind for seconds before I had to rest and recover.
Since I practiced with it everyday as well, my mind began to get used to casting little flames of fire magic. Though they still drained my magic pool faster than wind, the ache was nearly gone. I had to switch to another element to get the full effect from the pain. This time I tried water, thinking that being able to make water would be extremely useful. Using one of Sentovos’ small cups, I used the magic to create water within the cup. After only a handful of water drops, I felt the full effect of the mind ache. As I was used to the pain, I didn’t falter until I had filled the wooden cup to the brim.
On and on I practiced, day after day until finally I realized that I had to make a decision. I was putting it off, though I knew that I couldn’t prepare myself any more for the ritual to remove the curse. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since I had entered this cursed forest, but I had used my wind magic to cut my hair more than a few times. As part elf, I didn’t grow facial hair. Even so, it had to have been months, maybe longer. I couldn’t prepare myself any more than I already had. It was time for me to attempt the ritual.
Chapter 8
The very next day I awoke and simply lay there. Would I die today? Would some other traveller wander into these woods and find my bones as I had found Sentovos’? Shaking off such dark thoughts, I focused on the task before me. The ritual. I rose from the bed and went through my morning routine as I always did. After a small breakfast, I finally sat down in front of the journal and reread the entry on the ritual for perhaps the thousandth time.
Date: Unknown
I have come up with a ritual on how to remove the curse from Foxthorn Forest. It is quite a simple ritual, but the main problem lies elsewhere. The curse is actually a sort of taint that hovers over the forest and all things in it. To remove the curse, one needs to draw in the tainted magic to their core, clean the taint from the magic, and then proceed to expel the clean magic back into the land. Seems simple enough at first glance, yet it is anything but. The problem with such a task is that one would be taking on the taint, which causes immense pain to one’s mind. The taint itself, once acquired, could potentially fade over time, though since the forest is quite large the caster would most likely die of old age before the taint is completely faded. The pain is the more immediate issue.
Trying to remove the curse from the entire forest is a feat in and of itself, yet attempting to do so while under constant, unending pain is near impossible. For if one makes a mistake while they are handling so much magic it would certainly mean death. There are numerous ways in which this might occur, such as one’s magic capacity becoming overfull and bursting, or emptying said magic capacity and forcing your life energy out, or… but I digress. It all comes down to if one can complete the ritual, regardless of the immense pain, without faltering in the slightest. The time to complete the ritual wholly depends on how fast the mage can bring in the magic, strip it of the taint, and expel the cleansed magic. If one takes too long, there is always the chance of the body simply passing out from lack of sleep. In any case, I have tried all other ways out of this cursed forest, yet this appears to be my last recourse. I shall attempt the ritual in three sleep cycles.
I sighed, well at least it would all be over soon, one way or the other. I wasn’t afraid of death. I had been in too many life threatening situations to fear death any longer. For perhaps the last time, I closed Sentovos’ journal. I stood, leaving the mage’s cloak draped across the chair. I departed from the small confines of the wooden hut and made my way over to the little clearing where I usually practiced magic.
Sitting cross legged, I breathed deeply and readied myself for what was to come. I connected to my magic, and emptied around half of it by creating a gentle breeze. Once that was done, I was ready to begin. Mentally, I reached out for the magic of the curse and began to draw it to me. As it entered, I could feel the taint on it. It felt… wrong, old, dark. I pulled the taint to myself, pushing the now-clean magic back into the forest. Then I started to feel the pain.
Intense and unending, it pressed upon my consciousness with vigor but I held fast. I didn’t let
it interrupt the ritual. Luckily, the pain wasn’t nearly as excruciating as the slave collars could be, and I knew that I could withstand it. The question was for how long? Now that I was connected to it, I could feel the mass of tainted magic covering the land. The enormity of my task suddenly hit me, but I held firm once again. There was no turning back now.
I kept taking the tainted magic in, pulling the taint to myself, and then returning the untainted magic back into the forest. I never stopped the flow of incoming or outgoing magic, merely continued to strip the taint from the magic. The pain seemed to build as time went on, though it was hard to say if it was actually getting worse or merely felt as much from its constant presence. Time seemed non-existent in the unending currents of magic flowing through me.
I began to lose focus, not remembering why I was doing this. Perhaps I should stop? No! I must not falter! I couldn’t recall why I had to keep going, only that it was of utmost importance that I finished the task. How long had I been at this? Days? Weeks? Once more my memory failed me, and I was left alone with the magic. On and on, it flowed through me as I pulled at the taint.
And then it changed. Suddenly, I became aware that there was no more taint left to cleanse. Afraid that I had failed, I tried to pull more of the tainted magic into myself only to find that I couldn’t. Was it over? Looking at my magical reservoir, I found it much changed. The dark, aged taint clung to my magic residing there and it made me wonder what it would do. I could sense and feel the taint, as I had earlier on the forest. It wasn’t exactly pleasant.
Slowly, carefully, I disconnected from my magic. As soon as the magic withdrew, my body collapsed with weakness. I couldn’t ever recall feeling so truly exhausted in my entire life. I was also starving and dying of thirst. Not even during my time as a slave had I felt so weak, hungry, and thirsty. Prying my eyelids open took some work, but I did it. I barely noted the forests change around me when I spotted the river. The water beckoned to me and I tried my best to answer, using all my strength to crawl hand over hand towards the life giving liquid.
Finally I reached it, plunging my head into the water and drinking deeply. Slowly, my body began to feel better though I still needed food and sleep. So hungry and so very tired. Once I had my fill, I was able to stumble along, mostly on two feet, towards the berry bush. After eating I didn’t even make it to the hut before I passed out on the grass. My last thoughts were that I had done it. I had cleansed the curse from the forest.
~
Waking to the sound of a chirping bird startled me. For a moment I thought I was back in the small elven village with my parents before I remembered what had happened.The forest, the ritual, the taint... now my taint. Once again, I was hungry and thirsty, though it did not feel quite as life threatening as I had felt immediately after the ritual. I stood up to find food when I took a look around the forest. A long, wondering look.
The muted, dull, and dim forest was gone. In its place was a lush and vibrant woodland, with the bright light of the sun shining down through the branches. Birds perched here and there, albeit only a few, but there were birds! A gentle breeze stirred my clothes and hair, where before the still and calm had seemed so unnatural. Even the trees appeared less gnarled and twisted, though I suspected that some changes may take longer than others. I had a feeling that catching fish would be a bit harder from now on, though with the curse lifted I didn’t plan to linger here much longer.
Filling myself on berries, which also seemed to taste better, I yearned to leave the forest behind me. I wasted no time in preparing for the journey, though I did manage to go through my morning routine. It was much more difficult than it usually was, reminding me of my earlier days as a slave. The ritual had truly taken a lot out of me physically. I washed my clothes as best I could but, as they had been my only clothes for the entirety of my stay in the forest, they were well worn. No doubt I appeared not much more than a beggar. Hopefully, Sentovos’ cloak, or rather my cloak now, would help my appearance a bit.
Soon enough I was ready to depart. It hadn’t taken long as the only things I was taking was the cloak and journal. I took one last look at the changed scenery around me. If only I could have spent my time here in such a forest, instead of the cursed one that was nearly lifeless. Either way, I wanted to be away from this place. I once again said a silent thanks to Sentovos and used the position of the now visible sun to find my way and headed south.
I followed the river as best I could, wanting to keep a source of water within sight. I had to rest early the first few days I travelled as my body was still recovering from the ritual. I wondered how long I had actually been channeling magic for. Two days? Three? I supposed it mattered little as I had succeeded and was finally on my way again. Then I began to wonder how long had I spent in the forest altogether. I had no way of knowing, outside of having to occasionally cut my hair. I would have to find a way to ask without seeming too strange. Perhaps finding Amara or someone else who knew me.
Five days of following the river and I finally left the forest behind. There were still trees here and there but they weren’t the gnarled and twisted ones of the forest. I also spotted the ridge that I thought I had fallen from, though I had to travel another two days through the valley I was in before I found a way onto the road that lead to Greypoint.
The chillness of the wind and the near bareness of the trees suggested the fall season to be nearly into winter. Which raised yet another thought as the forest I had just left hadn’t looked the same. Those trees had looked as if it were summer, even with the twisting of the branches. Perhaps the forest needed time to adjust to no longer being cursed. My thoughts continued as I walked the road.
The first traveller I came upon seemed to be welcoming enough, until I approached him. Then he screamed and ran off, yelling of a faceless demon. Confused, it took me a few moments to remember one of Sentovos’ journal entries that spoke of his cloak. In addition to being enchanted from wear and weather, it also shrouded the wearer’s face in shadow while the hood was up. In the future I would have to be careful of that. I continued on down the road but I didn’t see any other travellers. It wasn’t until nearly nightfall when I stumbled upon a large merchant caravan that had stopped to make camp for the night. One of their sentries spotted my approach.
“Who goes there!” Hailed the sentry, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
I removed my hood and raised my hands in a peaceful gesture, inwardly deciding what I should tell the man. I decided to go with partial truth, “A lone traveller, I was separated from my group when we were attacked by orcs.”
The guard softened when he heard my news, seeing my poor state. He did raise an eye at my apparently untouched cloak. The sentry took pity on me, inviting me to sit with a few of the other guards over their campfire. A few asked to hear my story in exchange for a bowl of soup. I obliged them and told of how my group had been attacked. How we had fought them off, but I had been separated in my attempt to save the young boy.
Afterwards, the guard captain handed me a bowl and a hunk of bread. He nodded at me, “That was a brave thing you did, saving that boy. You can rest here tonight and travel with us in the morning. We should reach Greypoint by tomorrow, if there isn’t any trouble.”
Having something to eat that wasn’t fish or berries was wonderful. I ate my meal and listened to the other guards talk. Some spoke of their personal lives while others spoke of the larger happenings in the world. Those were the ones I paid the most attention to.
“Blasted orcs, they’ve been getting steadily worse in the last year. Them’s nobles refuse to send a force to deal with ‘em though. And the mages, for wanting all their stuff delivered to them, don’t do anything ‘bout it either.” A brown-haired guard complained, sipping at his flask.
A darker skinned man scoffed, “The war in Zecresh has used up most of the soldiers with only the City Guard left. The nobles are too cowardly to send them out. And the only mages left are either teachers or students. Res
t are off to war as well.”
The guard captain spoke up, “I wouldn’t speak of them so harshly. It is a tough decision, to leave the capital city undefended and send aid to the northern region. I do not envy their position.”
The brown haired man laughed, drinking from his flask yet again. “They ain’t the ones having to trek into this orc-infested land over and over.”
A few of the guards agreed, though just as many stayed silent. A guard I couldn’t see voiced his opinion, “At least the Keepers are doing something.”
At this, I spoke up, “Keepers?” I asked the guard captain.
He raised a brow, “It’s surprising you haven’t heard of them before now. The Keeper’s of Turinval. Their story’s a long one, though I like to think of them as a guild for adventurers or mercenaries. With enough coin, people can request aid or service by posting to the Keeper’s board. Those more willing and able can attempt to complete the requests.”
I thought this over for a moment. “So anyone can post a request?”
The captain took a swig of his water pouch, “Aye, if their coin is good.”
“And anyone can attempt these requests?” I asked.
This time the captain shook his head, “Well, the Keepers are divided into ranks. Once you register with them, they give you a rank. Only by completing requests can you improve your rank. Each request is also given a rank by the Keeper of the House. The Keeper of the House is the one in charge of that specific Keeper’s house. Only those with the same rank or higher than a request’s rank can take it on.” The captain tugged at his bearded chin. “Well, I suppose you could take on any request but the Keepers wouldn’t pay out the reward unless you were properly ranked.”
Chains of the Forest (Chronicles of Ruvaen Book 1) Page 8
