Mage Hunter (Lost Tales of Power Book 8)

by Vincent Trigili

  Grandmaster Vydor turned toward Shea. “Shea, what do you think?”

  “It’s hard to say without evaluating him in person, but it might work if we start with weekly checks instead of monthly ones,” she said.

  He looked at me. “And you? What do you think?”

  “Master, I’m willing to try it.”

  “Do you think Saraphym will agree?” he asked.

  Spectra laughed out loud. “If you take Greymere, you’d have a hard time leaving her behind.”

  Grandmaster Vydor smiled broadly, but his expression was serious as he faced Master Dusty. “Dusty, these are your people. I will not take them if you dislike the plan.”

  Master Dusty frowned. “Master, I hate this plan as it is will cost me two excellent soldiers and good friends, but Lyshell needs them.” He rose, walked over to one of the fake windows and looked out into space. Everyone was quiet while he gathered his thoughts. “Not that long ago, Master Shadow found me and rescued me. Since then I have found others who needed to be rescued. I think it’s time to let Greymere and Saraphym do the same.”

  It struck me then that I would be leaving again, just as I always had. I had finally found a home and had to leave it.

  Master Raquel walked over to Master Dusty. “This is what family does; we help each other. When Lyshell is stable, Greymere and Saraphym can come back here.”

  No, it wasn’t like it had always been; this time Saraphym would be with me, and I’d still have a home to return to. “Really, Saraphym needs this, maybe as much as Lyshell.”

  Everyone turned towards me. “Nemesis is too safe for her. She needs to be challenged and pushed so that she can learn her limits. Master Spectra, you have said that the secret to the Spirit Realm is a strong self-identity. Saraphym doesn’t have that because she doesn’t understand yet what she really is. Here on Nemesis she still acts and thinks like a human most of the time. There is nothing to push her beyond that. Working with Lyshell, helping him to learn what he is capable of while on a dangerous mission may induce her to confront those same questions herself.”

  Master Dusty nodded. “That makes sense.”

  Master Spectra looked at me and said, “You’ll have to watch her very closely and contact me the moment anything seems wrong.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Master. I still have the ring Master Dusty gave me in the Spirit Realm.”

  “Then it seems the best path forward for everyone is to assign Greymere and Saraphym to Sub-Master Raquel, temporarily,” said Master Dusty.

  34

  07-04-0065 — Lyshell

  Everything hurt. Even opening my eyes brought pain; not a sharp pain, but a dull ache throughout my entire body. I slowly swung my legs over the side of my bed and tried not to fall when I stood up. It was an unfounded fear, as I had been standing on my own all week, but I still felt weak and unstable. The floor felt as if it were covered in tiny shards of ice-cold glass. Every step sent unpleasant sensations up through the soles of my feet into my legs and throughout my body.

  A white wizard’s robe had been given to me when I’d first woken after surgery. Apparently it was the official uniform for student-level wizards. I sighed deeply as I pulled it on. Not only did my whole body hurt, but I was back at the bottom of the ladder again.

  “Why did I ever agree to this?” I asked the empty room, as I did most days.

  “Because you want to be great,” came a firm, female voice.

  I almost fell back into the bed in surprise. The hospital room had never answered me before. Before I could fall my training took over and I spun into a defensive stance, facing the direction of the voice. Pain and soreness receded, and my mind cleared as I searched the room for danger.

  Before me stood a tall woman with yellow eyes and pointed ears. Her white hair fell just below her shoulders. She was wearing body-fitting purple battle armor, an armored backpack, and two swords strapped to her back. Everything about her screamed, ‘Dangerous!’

  “So you can move perfectly well when you stop thinking about it,” she said.

  “Who are you?”

  “Sub-Master Raquel Ravenwood, your new commander,” she said.

  Grandmaster Vydor had told me that I was being assigned to her, but I hadn’t realized it would be so soon; I could barely walk as yet. I slowly relaxed my stance and stood to attention. Soreness slowly made its way back to my body as I came to terms with the absence of danger.

  She turned to leave and said, “Follow.”

  She led me out of the room to the nurses station. There they dealt with my discharge papers, signed by Master Kellyn herself, placing me under Master Raquel’s care.

  We left the hospital and she brought me through the complex to a large row of apartments. They looked brand-new and unoccupied, or seemed that way from the outside. There was no foot traffic in the hall and no decorations on any of the doors.

  Master Raquel gestured down the hall and said, “Number thirteen is yours. It is already keyed to your biometrics, and all your possessions were delivered there this morning.”

  All my possessions. That amounted to essentially nothing.

  I started to walk towards it, but she turned and said, “This way.”

  I followed her down to an ancillary library that I hadn’t seen before. Every step hurt, and I had to move faster than was comfortable to keep up with her long stride. It seemed that recovery time was over.

  This room was much smaller than the main library I had been using. There were several rows of bookcases, each holding what looked like bundles of books instead of individual volumes. The labeling system was different to that in the main library, so I couldn’t make out what might be on each shelf. Master Raquel took one of the bundles and handed it to me.

  “These are yours. They are your first set of spell books. I expect you to memorize them,” she said.

  The bundle contained three books, but the writing on the covers and bindings was in a language I didn’t understand. I wanted to ask her about that, but she was already walking out of the room. I assumed I should follow and caught up with her.

  As we traveled deeper into the Academy complex I noticed that all other wizards, staff and students quickly gave way to her, many bowing slightly as she passed. I fervently hoped that didn’t mean she was a strict disciplinarian. Some of them gave me an odd look, but Master Raquel caught their eye, and they quickly turned away.

  Most of the hallways through which we traveled after leaving the hospital and living areas were carved out of the rough stone. It felt like being in a cave system instead of a massive modern facility. We passed through a door guarded by some of the infamous Dark Knights, an elite organization of Zalionians with pure black scales as opposed to the more common green.

  They saluted Master Raquel as we passed, and she paused and saluted them in return. They didn’t look away as did most of the wizards we saw; instead they stood tall and proud. From the stories I had heard about them, I doubted if anything could scare them.

  She looked at one of them, who appeared to be the ranking officer on duty. “This is my newest team member, Lyshell. He is to be allowed through these doors unescorted until further notice.”

  “Yes, Master. I’ll let the other teams know,” responded the Dark Knight.

  “Thank you,” she said and passed through the door into another set of tunnels.

  As we walked, Raquel said, “Students are not normally allowed here unescorted. I am making an exception for you, but you may be questioned about your presence back here. If anyone stops you, do not challenge them; just inform them that you are following my orders. If they still insist that you leave after that, then obey and contact me. Do not argue with anyone. I will deal with the matter.”

  We came to a junction of many tunnels, where wizards in green and red robes came and went. Those heading down into the tunnels looked fresh and energetic; those coming out looked haggard. As with the wizards elsewhere, they all showed Master Raquel deference, almost too much so. There seem
ed to be an undercurrent of wariness in her vicinity.

  A wizard approached; he wore purple robes and had short, sandy hair and a deep voice. He said, “Master Raquel, we received your request that a room be reserved, but we don’t usually do that. Our standard policy is ‘first come, first served’.”

  “Your standard policy also gives preference to higher-ranking wizards if rooms are full; correct?”

  “Yes, Master, but in your case that is hardly an issue.”

  “Not for me, perhaps, but the reservation is for Lyshell,” she said, jerking a thumb back towards me. “I want him here every day to practice, and I want no one to stop him. Understood?”

  He looked at me and pressed his lips into a thin line. “I see.”

  Looking back at her, he was silent for a moment. “Very well, Master. We will, of course, accommodate your request. This way, please.”

  We followed him down one of the many corridors, which led into a circular room with numerous doors. Raquel gestured to the doors. “Each of these doors leads to a practice chamber. Those with a red light showing are in use, and it would be extremely foolish to enter one of those, but those with a white light are empty.”

  I looked around and noted that all of them except one had a red light on.

  The wizard who had met us in the hall led us to the door with the white light. “We are constantly adding practice chambers, but the demand for them remains high. This one will be yours for the time being. If you should ever arrive when this light is red, don’t go in.”

  “If that happens, contact me immediately,” cut in Master Raquel.

  I could see that the purple-robed wizard was uncomfortable with that remark. Master Raquel was presumably known to have little tolerance for mistakes. The wizard showed me how to operate the door and then took his leave.

  Walking into the practice chamber was like climbing inside a hollow rock ball. The walls were curved up, forming a dome overhead, the floor forming the only flat space in the room. The rock walls were rough with many bumps and ridges. The room was bathed in a comfortable, warm light, the source of which was undetectable.

  Master Raquel turned to me and said, “This room is shielded and repairs itself. Here you may practice any spell you learn without fear of causing damage to anyone but yourself.”

  I nodded. It made sense that there would be rooms like this. It wasn’t very different from having a target range for learning to use firearms. A place in which to practice potentially lethal arts was a requirement if you were going to learn them.

  “Now, I know you did some studying before your surgery. Did your studies cover what we call the basic powers?” asked Master Raquel.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. You will find they come naturally, with little effort. Let us work through those first.”

  We spent the rest of the day working on them to no avail. After several hours had passed, I said, “I’m sorry. I must be too weak still — ”

  Her hand shot out toward my face. Instinctively, I blocked the backhand and spun away. Before I could think, several more blows came at me. She was highly trained and fast. I could barely keep up, but years of training paid off. My body knew what to do, even without the implants. My arms moved and my body twisted, each part of me moving like a finely-oiled machine.

  Then, as suddenly as the attack had started, she backed off. “Do you understand yet?”

  Baffled, I looked at her and said, “Understand what?”

  “Your body is completely healed. There is no weakness in it, no stiffness; it works perfectly, as you have just demonstrated.”

  I looked down at my arms, which had performed perfectly when called upon with all the strength and speed needed for my movements; my legs had done the same, so why was I limping?

  I straightened up and looked at the pile of books on the floor, mentally commanding them to rise, and they did.

  35

  07-04-0065 — Lyshell

  The books floated there, a few feet off the floor, as steady as if they had been on a table. I could feel their weight, which made no sense as I wasn’t touching them, but I knew there would be a limit to the length of time I could hold them up. I drew them to myself, and they came to my hands.

  “But how? Why?” I asked. I had tried that a dozen times before and it hadn’t worked.

  “Magic is about willpower and belief. If you don’t believe you can do it, you never will.”

  I looked again at the books in my hands, and by reaching out with my mind I was able to open the book on top of the stack. “That really is incredible.”

  She smiled. “Come, there is more to show you.”

  We left the practice chambers and moved through more corridors until we came to a gym. There were many different species of wizard exercising, using free weights and various machines. I was surprised to note that most of them wore green or red robes.

  She gestured towards them. “Physical condition is important for a magus. Besides the obvious health benefits, your physical condition affects the strength of your spells. For example, the weight you can lift with telekinesis is a fraction of the amount you can lift with your hands; the stronger your body, the more you can lift.”

  Master Raquel led me through the training room to a section that contained sparring rings. Pairs and small groups of wizards were either fighting or practicing various combat moves. I didn’t recognize any particular style, but the basics were the same in each case: punches, kicks and stances performed over and over in order to ingrain them into muscle memory.

  She led me over to a ring where two Dark Knights were sparring. As we approached they broke off their fight, bowed, and one of them walked away. The other turned to Raquel and bowed.

  Raquel slammed her fist into her hand and held her arms in front of her, her right fist firmly planted in her left hand. Her hand was stiff and her elbows out as she returned his bow.

  When she stood up, she relaxed her arms and said, “Lythiran, this is Lyshell, about whom we spoke.”

  “Ah! Good to meet you!” said Lythiran.

  Raquel turned to me. “Lyshell, you will spend your mornings in the practice chambers, pause for lunch, and then come here to train with Lythiran. I have business which must be attended to, but I shall return in a week or two to evaluate your progress.”

  “Yes, Master,” I said. From what I had seen of her so far, I was sure it would be advisable to have made significant progress by the time she returned.

  She turned back to the Dark Knight. “Lythiran, I would have liked to spend more time here, but I must see to the rest of my team.”

  “Of course, Master. I hope we can spar sometime soon.”

  She smiled. It was the warmest expression I had seen on her face so far.

  “Perhaps on a day when life is less busy. Until then, may nature’s blessings be upon you.” She bowed again, gave me a smile and a nod, then left.

  “Now, Lyshell, I hear you have had some training already,” he said.

  I guessed that he was referring to hand-to-hand combat, since that was what everyone else in the room was doing. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Step into the ring and let’s see what we have to work with,” he said.

  I stepped up into the ring and fell into a defensive stance. He was a Dark Knight, which meant that even for a Zalionian he was strong and fast. More than that, he was apparently a trainer of Dark Knights, which meant his skill would be exceptional and he’d know all the standard forms, counters and counter-counters.

  In short, I was in way over my head.

  I settled back into Smoke Stance and waited.

  He smiled at me and it almost froze the blood in my veins. There was something about a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that didn’t convey joy when it grinned; hunger was a more appropriate description.

  Moving with the speed and grace of a cat, his left hand flew towards my head; it would have been a fatal blow in a real fight, but I was ready with Smoke. As the hand came in, I s
tepped back to one side while redirecting his arm across his body, blocking his right hand that was primed to follow up.

  He was a Zalionian, though, which meant he had a tail, and that came up as he allowed the momentum of his redirected blow to carry him around. I sprang back clear and fell back into Smoke Stance to wait. The fight form of Smoke was all about dodging and moving; just as you can’t hit smoke with your hand, the practitioner of Smoke could avoid being harmed. It was the perfect form to use against someone who was stronger with greater reach and superior skill.

  He pressed a second attack, and I faded and fell away; then a third and fourth. I continued to faded and fell back, being careful not to end up trapped in a corner.

  Attack and fade away, over and over we danced around the ring. He was careful not to overcommit, and I was careful not to be hit. Several times I saw an opening to break out of Smoke and strike, but I always hesitated just long enough to miss the opportunity. I didn’t trust my speed and strength without my implants. If he had been merely human I might have risked an attack, but he was Zalionian.

  I was getting comfortable in the pattern of attack and fade when he changed tactics. He yelled once and charged, moving far faster than any human. Before I could think, his foot was flying towards my face. My training saved me from that kick; I spun inside the leg, right into his outstretched fist. He tapped me on the side of the head. Had this been a real fight, I would have taken a blow from a Dark Knight directly in the temple. It would probably have been fatal.

  Dropping out of my stance, I backed away and started to bow as I had been taught; hands tight to the side, eyes down toward the ground.

  “Stop! Never bow like that. Maintain eye contact at all times,” he barked.

  “Yes, sir!” I corrected my bow and made a mental note.