Mage Hunter (Lost Tales of Power Book 8)

by Vincent Trigili

  She paused and took a drink of her mead. “Lyshell, you might recall from your history study that the magi of Korshalemia were baffled by Master Kellyn’s power of healing, since no wizard in all of their history had possessed this power. That is also true of this realm; until Master Kellyn came along, there was no such thing as a healing wizard. It should be impossible, just as it should have been impossible for Dusty to be proficient in both ice and concealment.”

  “Ice? But Master Dusty is a spiritualist?” I said.

  Master Dusty smiled. “I am now, which for a long time was a great mystery. When I joined Alpha Academy ice was my secondary line, but now I’m a spiritualist.”

  Lyshell looked as confused as I felt. “How is that possible?”

  “Spectra and I were in the Spirit Realm when the second tear was closed. Both of us were knocked out and almost killed in the struggle to close it; more importantly, we were right on top of it. When it sealed, reality snapped and I was caught directly in the blast.”

  Master Raquel nodded. “At the time when magic was natural, it was impossible to have powers from more than one sphere. Spirit-craft includes concealment and those whom we call spiritualists, but not ice. When reality, as Dusty put it, snapped back closer to its normal state, he was forced back into the standard mode.”

  Dusty said, “At the time, none of us understood what had happened or why. With Master Raquel’s information, we were able to put the pieces together.”

  “Did everyone’s magic change, then?” asked Lyshell.

  Master Raquel shook her head. “No, the sorcerers hiding in the Spirit Realm managed to channel the effects for their own use. No one on this side of the tear noticed much difference.”

  “The third tear was completely different,” said Master Dusty. “The remaining sorcerers had gone into hiding, so the full power of the effect was released.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Grandmaster Vydor and most of the high-ranking wizards almost died, for one thing,” noted Master Spectra.

  “What?” Lyshell and I asked at once.

  Master Raquel nodded. “That is what led to the assumption that it was the last tear. When reality snapped on that occasion the many magi were affected. The more powerful the magi, the harder they were hit.”

  Lyshell nodded slowly. “Just like when the spell was first cast ten thousand years ago.”

  Grandmaster Vydor nodded. “Exactly, so we assumed that the spell was undone.”

  I could see the logic in that. “That makes sense, but that wasn’t the case?”

  Grandmaster Vydor shrugged. “A skilled historian by the name of Darius made it his life’s work after the Great War to understand what had happened. He became the foremost expert in the field, though few knew it at the time. He theorized that there would be five tears, one for each of the five master wizards who had cast the spell. We found only three, and we suspect that one of those was cast by a sorcerer and did not feature in the original plan.”

  Lyshell’s expression was distant as he spoke. “Magic is still broken. The dead zones, chaos zones and this matter of spheres prove that. Therefore there may be at least one more tear out there, maybe more.”

  Grandmaster Vydor smiled. “That is one working theory, though I am not sure I accept it. We are proceeding as if it were true and searching in every way we can for the other tears, but no one knows how to look for them.”

  “Why close the tear? Won’t that make you all weaker?” asked Lyshell.

  “It might very well kill us, but let me ask you this: if you were far from help and your arm bore a deep gash, would you suffer the pain of cleaning and stitching it or would you ignore it?”

  “Obviously I would have to care for it, or it would become infected and far more damage would be done. Are you saying that’s what will happen with the tears?” asked Lyshell.

  Master Raquel replied, “No one knows for certain, but that is what we believe.”

  I stopped to gather my thoughts. “But it might kill you?”

  Grandmaster Vydor nodded silently.

  While I digested that, Lyshell spoke up. “It does not have to, though.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  He looked at Master Raquel and asked, “You survived the first casting by fleeing the realm; why can’t that work again?”

  Master Raquel looked at Lyshell for a long moment before she answered. “That might work, if we evacuate those magi most at risk before we close the next tear. That should protect them, as it did Narcion and myself.”

  “Of course, there is a key problem with that plan,” objected Master Dusty. He looked at Grandmaster Vydor and continued. “Those most able to close the tear are the same ones who would need to shelter in another realm.”

  Master Raquel nodded. “That is exactly why the Council of Sorcerers survived the first casting and the wizards did not.”

  “But - ” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. “What if it is not a tear but a ripple?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Master Dusty.

  I took a bowl and poured some water in it. “This water represents the ether…”

  “Ether?” asked Lyshell.

  “Sorry, ether is the stuff that space-time is made of. When ships, planets, stars or anything else travel through space, they are actually moving through the ether, like this.” I took a spoon and dragged it across the bowl of water. “As you can see, the ether is pushed back around it, making a wake. Over time that wake settles out and the ether is smooth again.”

  I stopped dragging my spoon and let the water settle. “Masters, you described the closing of the last tear as something snapping shut. So, instead of a spoon calmly passing through you have something more like this.” I took the spoon and stirred the water violently, spilling some over the side.

  “The waves are much bigger and could swamp any boats in the water; they’ll also take longer to settle.”

  Grandmaster Vydor nodded. “I had considered that also. We have noticed that all new magi coming up are falling in line with their spheres, but those who preceded the healing of the tear have not reverted. It may be that what is so remains so, and that which is to come will fall under the new rules.”

  Master Raquel took a drink and nodded. “Perhaps it is just that. Those waves would affect time as well as space, so it may be that we find ourselves in a transitional phase.”

  I watched as the water in the bowl settled back into place. “Like this water, the ether will eventually regain its natural balance. A good way to test that would be to monitor all the aberrations and see if they decrease with time. If they do, that supports my theory; if not, there may still be a tear to find, or something else.”

  40

  07-13-0065 — Lyshell

  I really didn’t want to get up. The visit to the forest world, the dinner on Nemesis and meeting my new team had all been wonderful, but I hadn’t returned until very late. However, I was meeting Master Raquel this morning for my new training orders and I dared not be late for that.

  As I stumbled around my quarters, my mind drifted back to the conversation with the priestess. I suspected she was really a psychologist or something similar, but she said she was a high priestess of Light. Whatever she was, it was apparent that they’d sent her to evaluate my mental state. I suppose some people might have been offended by that, but I was used to it. The entire time I’d been in the service as a mage hunter I’d had semi-weekly psychiatric evaluations, but none of the doctors were nearly as nice as Shea. I’d always had the feeling that they were just ticking off a box on their to-do list, while Shea actually seemed to care.

  She had asked me if I’d thought to look up Joan. I hadn’t, but I couldn’t explain why. She suggested that Joan was probably worried about me, wondering how the surgery had gone. Shea hinted strongly that she thought I should contact her, and I had to agree. Joan had been a big part of my life before becoming a wizard, possibly even before becoming a mage hunter. The
time before my implants was still fuzzy, but I felt there must have been something between us in the past.

  I put in my contacts and activated the interface to my tablet. It didn’t take long to locate the public directory of the hospital station and find her listed as a head nurse on the second shift. I had to smile. That’s what she’d wanted to do, to get out of the agency and be a full-time nurse. She had found her dream.

  I hadn’t much time, so instead of calling I sent her a message. “Hey, Joan, this is Lyshell. Just thought I’d drop you a note and let you know I’m not dead. I’ve completed my first week of training and have been assigned to a team. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and see how you’re getting along out there. Contact me when you can.”

  There, I had followed the priestess’s orders, or at least her strong suggestion. That should keep both of them happy. I sighed deeply, took my contacts out and put them away. Master Raquel didn’t want me using them while I was training. Well, she really wanted me to return them to the store, but had only ordered me to remove them while training.

  As I walked to the practice rooms, I thought about what they said last night about the tears. On one hand, it made sense to try to close them and undo the damage that had been done all those millennia ago, but the cost seemed too high a price to pay.

  I was running late, so I took my breakfast with me and ate as I walked down to the practice rooms. There was a strict rule against teleportation or other means of magical travel throughout the academy complex. If you needed to get anywhere, you had to walk. After a lifetime on the capital planet where I’d constantly had to squeeze into various forms of overcrowded public transport, walking the comparatively uncrowded halls of the Academy was a relief, though I knew many saw it differently.

  When I reached the practice room I had been using I found the door open, which I took to mean that Master Raquel was inside waiting for me. I steeled myself for a lecture about being late, which I wasn’t, and entered the room.

  Inside was a Battle Wizard I hadn’t seen before. He was wearing standard issue Battle Wizard armor with the numeral ‘two’ emblazoned on his left shoulder, marking him as a second-rank wizard, roughly the equivalent of a rear-admiral in the Imperial navy. On his other shoulder he bore the symbol of the Wizard Kingdom, a large shield standing in front of a big red beast. The shield was adorned with a scene of a space station orbiting a planet; it looked familiar, but I suspected that most stations look similar.

  He was a little overweight and still young, probably less than a century old. Around him was a collection of boxes and bags that appeared to have been dropped randomly. Despite wearing battle armor that resized itself to fit perfectly, he somehow managed to look a little disheveled.

  He was juggling fireballs, and Master Raquel was nowhere to be seen.

  I instinctively snapped to attention and said, “Sorry, sir; I didn’t know you’d be using this room today.”

  I was not sure I was permitted to speak to one of his rank. I expected he would have access to Grandmaster Vydor, and probably reported directly to Master Shadow.

  “Oh, relax,” he said without breaking his juggle. “and just call me Phoenix.”

  Phoenix: I knew that name, as probably everyone in the Kingdom did. That number on his shoulder gave no real indication of his rank and influence. He had more than direct access to Master Shadow; he was part of the core leadership of the whole military force. I would need to walk very carefully around him.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  He chuckled. “No, seriously, drop the ‘sir’ stuff.” He let go of the fireballs, which continued on their circular path without him. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here in your practice chamber. Raquel asked me if I’d be willing to train you, and I’ve agreed.”

  “But, sir, you’re not known - I mean - ”

  He sighed dramatically. “I know what you’re trying to say. I’m known for my fancy barbeque recipes and not so much my spell-slinging.”

  Had I just insulted him? “No, that’s not — ”

  His laughter cut me off. “Relax, you’re way too uptight. Yes, I’m a pyromancer, but there are three good reasons why Master Raquel asked me to train you. First, the basics of all schools of magic are essentially the same. Your defense spells and my wards spells have considerable overlap. Your source of power and some of the finer details are different, but the essentials are the same. Second, in the end, all magic really comes down to the same thing.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “All magic is converting the potential energy of reality into matter or another form of energy.” He picked up a bottle of water from the floor and focused his attention on it. It started to boil. “See, the water boils because I have added energy to it. If an ice elementalist used their power to take energy from it, it would freeze. All the concepts are the same; they just work in different directions.”

  That made a certain amount of sense. Thinking of the spells as fire and ice made them seem quite different from one another, but phrased in this manner it was easy to see the connection. “That makes sense, but you said three things?”

  He smiled broadly. “I really do make a great barbeque, and if you’re good you might get to try it some day!”

  I smiled at that, and at the fact that the fireballs were still doing their thing as if there were an invisible juggler continuing to throw and catch them.

  “Now, we’ll start with the most important spell in your arsenal, your bolt.” He must have read the skepticism on my face. “Seriously, I doubt you’ll ever be in any serious fight without casting it many times over.”

  “Isn’t that the most basic of all spells?”

  He nodded. “If you were heading into combat wouldn’t you bring a sidearm with you, regardless of any other firepower you had to call on?”

  He had a point there. “Sure, but only as a back-up.”

  “Right, and of course you never use it because all plans work out perfectly on the battlefield?”

  Another point for him. “So a mage bolt is like that blaster?” I asked.

  He paused for a moment and opened one of the boxes. “Give me a hand with this,” he said as he pulled out some standard holographic targets. As we were setting them up a wizard entered, wearing the red robes of an apprentice.

  “Ah, there you are,” said Phoenix.

  “How can I help, Master?” asked the apprentice.

  “Lyshell here is a new magus. If you wouldn’t mind, could you demonstrate the speed and power of the ice bolt?”

  “Certainly, Master,” he said and turned toward the targets. With a fluid speed that I wasn’t used to seeing in a primitive, he cast ice bolts towards the targets with deadly accuracy. Within the blink of an eye he’d scored a direct hit on each of the targets’ vital areas. Being holograms, they weren’t hurt by his bolts but the wall behind them was not immune. Large chunks of rock were blasted off the wall where each ice bolt had struck.

  “Wow,” was all I could say. The difference between this trained wizard and the untrained rogue magi I had previously fought was like night and day.

  Master Phoenix chuckled. “You see, it’s not so basic after all. All the offensive lines have a bolt spell, and it’s an essential tool.” He turned to the apprentice. “Thank you for that demonstration.”

  The apprentice bowed and left.

  The wall which the ice bolts had struck was covered in frost, which was slowly turning back into water. There were six impact craters, so that meant the apprentice had cast those ice bolts at almost the same speed at which my cyborg-enhanced previous self could have aimed and fired a blaster. And they considered him to be a mere apprentice!

  I looked at Master Phoenix and said, “Teach me.”

  41

  10-13-0065 — Lyshell

  After training for a few months, I finally got my uniform. As uniforms went, this one was very practical. It was a full suit of body armor, complete with environmental protection so that it could be
used in a vacuum. It adjusted itself to the perfect size when I put it on, in the same manner as the robes.

  It was mostly matt black, but green bands of power ran over it in certain places. It was form-fitting, flexible and very light. It was easy to forget you were wearing it, after a while. It had no logo or insignia other than a green numeral seven on the shoulder. This marked me as a Seventh Rank Battle Wizard, and the color reflected my assignment to Master Raquel’s division.

  She gave it to me just as I finished my training with Lythiran, and told me that she wanted me to wear it at all times. Leaving me with instructions on how to care for it, she disappeared again, presumably on some official duty. I saw little of her and then only briefly, like this visit. I wondered what she was up to, as being her direct report, I’d likely soon be mixed up in whatever it was.

  The armor had a pack built into the back, so I stowed my robes in that and went to dinner. Master Phoenix had already gone, so I said goodbye to Lythiran and walked out into the hallway. The difference between when I’d walked in and when I went out was so startling that I almost turned around to go back in.

  When I’d moved through the halls of the Academy before now, no one paid me much attention. I was just another lowly student making his way through the crowd. Almost everyone outranked me, so I just kept my head down and went about my business. Now, when I walked along people moved out of my way. There was a level of respect or even fear that had not been there before.

  I squared my shoulders and made my way to the cafeteria. Crowds parted to let me by, and no one tried to jump in front of me in the line at the mess hall. As I walked to my table, I scanned the room and saw I was the only Battle Wizard there, or at least the only one in armor. I thought back to my time in the Academy and couldn’t remember more than a couple others walking around in armor. That probably explained the way I was being treated.