The man also decided to spend some time explaining how white magic worked, and how the connection between a magg and a protector allowed her to transform his rage and give him power. Even if Emily wasn’t present, Kezthrem felt the knowledge he could pass on could help them save some time when he began to train the magg and her protector together. So, one morning, the two settled in in the middle of the training room, with the sliding panels opened wide to let in the crisp morning air. They sat facing the road that approached the house, with their backs to the garden.
“What do you know about white magic?” began Kezthrem.
The young man stopped to think back on everything he’d learned in the past few months before speaking.
“I know that only maggs can use it,” he began. “It lets them heal wounds and protect others, or at least that is what Gwenn and Emily know how to do.”
“That’s true. It’s called ‘white’ magic, as opposed to so-called ‘black’ magic which includes anything that can injure, such as fire, ice, and other elements. However, those kinds of magic aren’t necessarily bad, as the name might suggest. They are simply used to injure instead of heal.”
“Necromancers... Do they use a kind of black magic?” asked the boy, thinking back on the mysterious creatures.
“It’s possible, but it is more likely that they have some other method of using the flux at their disposition. It is said that they can raise the dead and command ghosts. But I cannot say what is true and what is mythical in those stories. The necromancers are not the only ones with those capabilities, however. Vampires, which you can find in the Desolate Plains, are also adept at using powerful but mysterious and dangerous types of magic.” Glaide waited to learn more, but Kezthrem didn’t continue on that subject. “Whatever the case, the magic of maggs is a healing magic,” he continued. “It is useful for healing fractures, cuts, and any other injury of the flesh. Even poison cannot stand against it. It is even possible for them to heal the mind.”
“The mind? Do you mean a magg can heal someone who has been traumatized?”
“That depends on the severity of the shock and the powers of the magician, but if your friends have been working on their skills, they’ll have certainly noticed that they can soothe others with a glance, and bring comfort with a simple touch on the hand or the arm. It is for that reason that they are so admired and loved.”
“I remember that when I was injured by one of the orks that attacked us in the Forest of the Worlds, I could hardly stand the pain. But when Emily used white magic, a comforting warmth filled me. Is it the same for mental trauma?”
“More or less. Magic doesn’t take on a physical form. It is a subtle and invisible process, but its effects are impressive. I remember one day when Elowen and I came across a caravan of refugees.” Glaide could hardly believe it, but he realized that his master was speaking about his past, something he’d almost never done up until then. Captivated, he listened carefully to what was to come. “They had fled their village,” continued the man, “because scouts had announced the imminent arrival of an army. To avoid a massacre, they’d had no choice but to leave their homes. We spent several days with them, and Elowen took the time to speak with each of the travelers. They shared their fears and their sorrows with her, and in exchange, she shared her magic.”
“And what happened?”
“It was amazing, like I said. By the time we left them, the inhabitants had all regained their will to go on. It would have been impossible to erase their pain, but they at least felt ready to build new lives for themselves. Before we’d met them, they weren’t even sure why they were bothering to go. They felt as though they had lost their futures along with their homes. When we left, their past had been relegated to their memories, and their main objective was to reach another village to get provisions, then construct a new village somewhere else.” The adolescent let out an admiring sigh. One magg alone had given hope back to dozens of people. “However,” continued the man, “the negative side of all of that is that they must sometimes listen to horrific tales. You know how when a magg invokes protection, each blow weakens them? It is the same when they choose to use their power to comfort those around them. Through the words of those they want to help, they take on some of the wounds.”
“And they have to live with that.” Glaide realized then that his friends might have to confront some difficult situations, and he hoped that that had not already happened, otherwise he would feel guilty about having left them. “The faster I find them the better,” he thought to himself. Kezthrem continued, then.
“Maggs are appreciated and respected among men, but also among the other races, because historically, it was not rare for them to bring aid to the dwarves, barbarians, or elves.”
“But where did they come from? And why do they exist among humans, but none come from the other peoples?”
“Maggs have existed from the time the human race appeared here. As far as why they come from this race... That is for you to discover.” Glaide chose not to comment, and continued to listen. “Their powers come from Galadria itself, and it is completely possible that Aras has nothing to do with it. After all, men walked this Earth before the gods became as powerful as they are today.”
“And maggs existed that whole time?” Glaide exclaimed.
“From all indications, yes.”
“But what is their purpose in the end? During the battle against Baras, they played a minor role. They simply continued to bring aid wherever they went. It’s almost as if...” The adolescent stopped to look for the right words. “As if they’re... outside of time,” he said at last. “The era doesn’t matter. They are the only ones to have access to white magic, and they use it to do as much good as possible around them. Sometimes there is more for them to do, like now, and at other times, when things are going well, there is less for them to do.”
“That’s true. Does their status remind you of that of any others?” The young man racked his brain, but he couldn’t find anything else that was similar. Finally, his master answered for him. “The necromancers, perhaps?” At that, Glaide’s eyes widened in surprise, but after a few moments of reflection, he had to conclude that the diabolical sorcerers and maggs actually had many points in common. They both had access to strange and strong powers, their existence went back millennia, and, even though the dwarves, elves, and dragons had been some of the first to people Galadria, men remained the most numerous, and their history filled with more action.
“Can the two really be connected?” murmured the boy. “The two in perfect opposition to each other. No, that’s inconceivable! Iretane is based in white magic, and it was created recently while necromancers have existed since the beginning of time!”
“Our school simply makes use of an ancient phenomenon. Just as Baras made use of one of those cursed sorcerers, so the man who created our technique, and who taught Dzen to exploit the power of the maggs, did so to make use of white magic during the struggle of his time. It is important that you understand that Iretane is a recent invention, much like the sword that you carry, while the magician that you protect, even if she comes from another world, uses a force that is as old as this earth. We don’t know what is to come, but we can believe that Aras and Baras are not eternal. If, like I think, the apocalypse will come from the inhabitants of the Desolate Plains in several millennia’s time, then it seems that the maggs will be the only hope of salvation for the people, while neither Iretane nor the Destroyer would mean anything any longer, because all that will matter will be those primitive powers that are the magic of life and of death.”
“You’re talking about an era of nightmares,” replied the young man with a shiver.
“It’s true,” agreed Kezthrem, “and it’s pointless to worry about that. However, I’m telling you that so that you realize what Emily and Gwenn are capable of. While they and those like them have accomplished no extraordinary feats in the past, like Dzen or other celebrated heroes, they have always been there,
and they will still be there when everything else has changed. Perhaps it is because human lives are short, constantly changing, and always capable of adapting to the world around them. Perhaps that is why the maggs come from our race. After all, aren’t the humans the only ones still fighting today, despite the darkness of the times?”
Glaide nodded, thinking that whoever decided that—if anyone or anything decided that—had taken a terrible risk. When the young man thought about it, humans seemed like such mortal beings, afraid of so many things, with their hearts constantly pulled between good and evil, and with their minds tortured by questions and concepts that were beyond them. However, he had to admit that they had an incredible will to continue existing, and their ingenuity and ability to adapt were unequalled among creatures. So, yes, perhaps that was why the maggs were humans. “And to think, Gwenn and Emily belong to that group,” he whispered admiringly. “Now that I know that, I’ll never again be able to consider them my equals. Compared to them and those like them, the Destroyer is nothing more than an eddy in the river of time!”
With a smile, Kezthrem replied, “An eddy that—for all of us—promises a future. If you fail, the maggs will die. Even if everything appears ridiculous and short lived compared to eternity, the fact remains that that eternity is built one day at a time...”
“And only in that way can it have any sense,” finished Glaide. The man nodded.
“So, back to the issue at hand: how to employ white magic with a weapon.” The adolescent settled back, ready for a long, complicated explanation, but was disappointed by what his master said next.
“Truth be told, there isn’t much to say. You already know most of it. However, listen carefully. When you’ve rejoined Emily, don’t hesitate to try to invoke the Blade of Light, as you saw Tyv and Ydref do.”
“Right, so on that count... Without going into details, can you tell me if there are other things than the Blade of Light that I can do with the help of a magg?”
“Before I answer your question, let me point out that, as far as attacks go, white magicians can use telekinesis, like Paeh did. However, that takes a huge amount of energy, because so much of the flux is thrown without being molded, as it is when they create shields. But back to your question, with the swords that we have, the Blade of Light is the only possibility.”
“You mean that other weapons can do other things?”
“Not others, my dear disciple. Only the one other: the katana of Dzen. Like Ralon told you, it can store up more magic, so it has more uses.”
“Right.” Kezthrem stared into the distance for a little while before continuing.
“If you find that weapon, we will see what we can do. For now, let me explain the Blade of Light. As you already know, Emily’s role is to transform your rage into white magic, then infuse the blade of your sword with it. That is an operation that requires no resources in particular, because you provide her with everything she needs.”
“You mean that it isn’t necessary to make use of the strength she has stored up, or the magic of Galadria in the process?”
“More or less. To transform your anger, she has to call on the flux. But only a miniscule amount of the flux is actually used. Maggs have said that in general, at that stage, they can feel the blades of their protectors calling for the power. More than once, I’ve heard magicians say that the blade is ravenous in its desire for white magic.”
“So it simply needs to be satiated. But tell me, how do I transmit my feelings to Emily, for her to transform them?”
“That part is more difficult, and it is also the part that I can’t teach you about. When the two of you are reunited, I’ll help you invoke the Blade of Light, but it will take some time. It would be out of the question to try it during combat. We will do that during a period of calm. For the technique to be of any use in battle, it is imperative that you master it perfectly. There is no place for an unsuccessful attempt then.” Glaide found himself confused by that.
“But you said I should try it the instant I’m reunited with Emily!” he exclaimed.
“I did, and I meant what I said. You can try, but do not focus on it. If it doesn’t work, you need to realize that immediately, and stop to fight without it. And once you have succeeded for the first time, do not try again during a confrontation. The technique that I use will show results, certainly, but will take time. It is better adapted to training, but is too dangerous to use in battle right at the start. You have to be patient and work on what I teach you until the point when you are strong enough to use it in a real battle.”
Glaide sighed, but nodded. The idea of having to train for so long, yet again, wasn’t exactly thrilling, but at least that would mean that for the time being, he’d have plenty of opportunities to put what he’d already learned into practice. After all, he had no idea how long it would take to find his friends, and once they were reunited, they’d still need to meet up with Kezthrem again. So, it seemed the Blade of Light would just have to wait.
Chapter 33
AND so passed a rather tranquil week. The boy took advantage of the calm, fully appreciating the quietness of this place where, for once, they were bothered by neither unexpected fights nor visits. However, Glaide waited impatiently for the end of the week, and their visit to the village. Finally, on the morning of the last day of February, the master and his disciple headed down the path that led to the village. The young man traveled at a good pace, despite the enormous sacks that he carried, as always, and that contained all of the clothing they needed washed, the shakuhachis to sell, and a list of supplies to buy. Today, for a change, Kezthrem had offered his own aid, and the two traveled with the load evenly shared among them.
The road hadn’t changed much. From time to time, though, they spotted benches placed here and there to give travelers a chance to rest, and to remind them that civilization was near. In other places, the road had been smoothed out or widened to make it easier for carts or travelers to pass through. The road was still not paved, though, and didn’t seem to be very well-frequented. The adolescent wondered if that would change one day. Would the new village become important enough to appear on maps? Or would it be destroyed long before then?
Finally, the two spotted the hill that looked out over the village, and Glaide hurried to the summit to set his eyes on what, in a way, he had helped to build. Imagine his disappointment when he saw that little had changed! When he and his master had left a month earlier, the wall had already been put up, and no changes had been made to it since. Perhaps there were more soldiers on it, but the adolescent really couldn’t say. The layout of the houses still appeared just as chaotic; constructed wherever or however the owner wished, there were no straight roads, and no logic seemed to have been applied to their planning. Only the city center, with its shops, tavern, and the house of the leader, gave any impression of organization or planning.
Glaide stayed there for a moment, looking out on the village that unfolded before his eyes. He finally decided that the only real change was in the number of fully constructed houses. No building sites remained; all of the buildings were finished. The shops ought to all have the proper provisions by now, and it was likely that some travelers had already discovered the birth of a new and quite large town.
After a moment, the young man remembered that just five and a half months earlier, he had found his way to this plain, in the company of a group of travelers who wanted to build a new home. At the time, he’d been looking for the master of Iretane, and these people had been looking for a place to start a new life. The circle of caravans they’d had, and the campfire they’d lit before serving their soup, had little in common with the village he saw now. That realization made him feel almost dizzy.
“How time passes,” he murmured, a tinge of melancholy invading his voice. The realization came to him, then, that the months that had passed away from his friends might have a greater effect on their reunion than he’d imagined. “Will they, like this village, have changed so much
?” he wondered. “I don’t know what they’ve been doing, what they’ve become, or even if they want to see me again or not. Yet, I wish to see them so badly...” He reminded himself that his memory of them was now old, and probably showed them as they no longer were.
“There are many things they’ll have had to come to accept, and I doubt that they are still looking for a way to return home. Their knowledge must have grown, as mine has, and perhaps they’ve even made new friends...” The thoughts brought a measure of sadness to the boy, as he realized that his friends may have relegated him to the status of just someone they used to know. “I told them to start new lives, and perhaps they did exactly that.” One thing reassured him, though. “Whatever their current situation,” he whispered, “and however they see me, all four of us came from another place, and we will always have that in common. Our adventure began with the four of us, and what we experienced will always connect us.” With that comforting thought, he fell into step behind his master, who was already beginning to descend the hill once again. They waved to the guard at the gate as they approached the town, and as they moved to head inside, he delayed them.
Chronicles of Galadria III - Lessons Page 24
