The Magic, Warped (The MagicWarper Trilogy Book 1)

by Rick Field

  Currently, Liane was on the ground, on all fours, smoke rising from her body. Thankfully, she had gotten to the point where her magic no longer ripped her clothes off when she blocked a spell, but that did not mean it hurt any less. Drawing a deep breath, she pushed herself upright, before getting off her knees and back onto her feet. In her chest, her magic whimpered, as if echoing the pain in her body.

  “Death Magic requires focus, My Lady,” Milor went on when he was right in front of her. “I don't know how you control your elements, but it seems to be very different from Death Magic.”

  Recognizing the implied question, Liane started to explain. “Elemental Manipulation requires control, My Lord. One uses one's magic to control the element one wishes to shape, then manipulate the element into the proper shape and size.”

  Her friend nodded. “That sounds like domination, My Lady,” he said, sounding thoughtful.

  Liane thought for a few seconds. “It could be construed as such, My Lord. Although domination would imply a level of mastery that only the very best Mages have, it is accurate enough a description.”

  Milor nodded. “Death Magic cannot be dominated, My Lady. It cannot even be controlled in the strictest sense of the word. Death Magic requires a union with one's magic, a symbiotic relationship that allows a Warlock to set a goal, then allow the magic to complete said goal. One cannot force Death, nor can one dominate it. Should you push too hard, you will find the spell destabilizing and exploding, as your every attempt has shown.”

  Liane's face twitched for just a second. Short, but not short enough, as Milor noticed it. “It may mean I cannot use this branch of magic, My Lord,” she finally spoke. “As my... unique... constitution requires a level of control over my magic at all times, it may mean that Death Magic may be beyond me.”

  “That is... most unfortunate, My Lady,” Milor said after a few seconds of silence. “However, before we declare this lost, we should make sure.” He stepped back to his previous position, on the other side of the medium-sized open-space laboratory on the top floor of the laboratory building. It was used regularly for spell research, as evidenced by the many runes visible to Liane's magic sight.

  She had spent hours working on this, the most basic of the Warlock's Death Magic spells, deconstructing the theory behind it and rebuilding it to be used with her unstable magical abilities. And even though the theory was one hundred percent sound, the spell still exploded when she tried to cast it. It was maddening and infuriating.

  Closing her eyes, she started to shape her magic, feeling it sift and move under her control as she called upon the spell Milor had demonstrated dozens of times. Words rolled off her lips as her mind and magic took shape, forming a ball of blackened light in her right hand, wavering and spitting as it did so.

  Taking a deep breath, Liane tried to let go of the drive to control her magic, the domination she had been trying to establish since the first day of her training at the Academy. Trying to let her magic shape things for itself was new to her, something she resisted with all of her strength. The power in her chest felt as if it roared, a caged animal suddenly receiving freedom.

  Her magic was unstable, it was powerful, and it was dangerous. Her own magic scared her even as she used it day in and day out. Feeling her control starting to slip, she resisted the urge to grab control over her magic once more, and the wavering ball of blackness forming in her hand started to stabilize.

  Her magic whistled like high-speed winds as it formed the required spell on its own, and for a fleeting moment, Liane thought that she would actually crack the problem.

  Her freed magic slipped through her grasp, bent on its freedom, and coming to the sudden realization that it had absolutely no clue on what to do with said freedom. Something in her chest gave way like a tearing muscle, and the spell detonated, throwing her back against the wall, pain lashing through her. Her very mind and body felt as if they were put ablaze, and a scream of pain made its way past her unresisting lips.

  The blackness receded as fast as it had come, and she blinked the spots away from her vision, finding herself in control over her body fast enough to prevent herself from completely falling to the floor. Instead, she sagged slowly, not wanting, nor caring, to look at herself smoking with the remnants of a failed spell being blocked by her ever-shifting magic.

  She was grateful that, as long as she had magic left, it would protect her, even if it caused her pain and drained her. “It seems that experiment went better, My Lady,” Milor said, lowering himself in front of her so she could look at him without having to lift her head. She was grateful for the consideration, as she wasn't even sure she could lift her head if she had wanted to do so.

  “It still... malfunctioned, My Lord,” Liane whispered, her lungs burning painfully, reminding her of having run herself to exhaustion in her first life, the life she had before coming to the Academy. She was truly dry now, her last magic gone in an effort to shield her from her own backfiring spell. “And I am completely empty now.”

  “After five failed spells, I am not surprised, My Lady,” Milor replied gently. “Truth compels me to note that I did not expect you to get up after your first spell failed. Had such a spell failed in such a manner for anyone else, they would have required a stay in the hospital. It appears that you are able to protect yourself – even if only for a limited time and with limited alternatives.”

  Liane nodded, trying to catch her breath – and get rid of the pain flashing through her body. “It hurts like nothing I have ever felt, My Lord. However, my magic seems to be able to... divert... if I may use that word... damage away from me. It is getting better at it, too, as the first time ripped my clothes off.”

  Milor blinked, and flushed slightly at the memory of her second year. He had witnessed the battle between herself and the Lord Fylian Earthworker, which had resulted in her hospitalized, and her magic ripping off one of her sleeves in order to stop a Death Magic finishing spell. He remembered her bared arm. In a society which kept everything below the neck covered up, a bared arm had been... tantalizing.

  “My apologies, My Lady,” he apologized, as if trying to ask forgiveness for his inappropriate thoughts.

  “My Lord?” she asked, not really understanding what he was apologizing for.

  “I have witnessed you in an inappropriate moment. It felt prudent to apologize once more, My Lady,” he replied with a faint smile.

  She almost pulled her right hand into her sleeve. Almost, but not quite. There was a twitch, though, and it was not lost on Liane nor Milor. “I shall forgive you, My Lord,” she finally said. “Under the condition that you do not indulge your perversions in the future,” she finished with a mild teasing toward her friend.

  Milor lifted an eyebrow, yet said nothing, causing Liane to glare slightly at him. “And if I may remind My Lord, he has yet to teach me how to lift one eyebrow.”

  “One merely lifts one eyebrow, My Lady,” he replied by way of explanation. “May I enquire as to what courses you will be taking?”

  She sighed audibly and visibly. “One day, you will teach me that, My Lord,” she answered. “May I enquire about your choices?”

  Milor smiled faintly. “If I may remind My Lady, I asked first.”

  “I do not feel like answering your question until you have answered mine, My Lord. After all, you have never taught me how to lift one eyebrow.”

  “As I have said on multiple occasions, one merely lifts one eyebrow, My Lady,” he replied with a faint trace of amusement, demonstrating the theory. It was a nice little game between them, a reminder of their friendship that they could joke even while under the confines of the Decorum. “As to your inquiry, I will be taking the Warlock Combat Arts, as they are mandatory and I have no intention of leaving the Academy as of yet. I will also be taking General Applications.”

  Liane blinked, then kept staring at him. As the silence built, Milor fidgeted slightly. “I will probably take Hexes and Curses as well, My Lady.”

&nbs
p; She rubbed her eyes at the lack of response she got from her friend. “Allow me to explain the courses I will be taking, My Lord. Firstly, there is Elemental Magic, the Mages' mandatory course. In addition, I will be taking Transmutation & Alchemy, General Applications, and Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols for my fourth and fifth years. Then I will take Rituals & Ceremonies and Blood Magic for my sixth year. As soon as Blood Magic and Rituals & Ceremonies are completed, I will go for Deep Secrets & Ancient Lore for my seventh and eighth year.”

  Milor's mouth snapped closed with a sharp note as his teeth clapped together. “That is... an impressive list, My Lady. One I do not think many students will follow you in.”

  “There will be at least one, My Lord. I am planning on taking an Assistant during Year Six.”

  Milor remained silent as he thought about what she had said. “Allow me to recapitulate, My Lady. You are planning on making an effort to learn the most potent and restricted magic known to us.”

  “That is correct, My Lord.”

  “And you are planning on taking an Assistant during said courses, My Lady,” he added on a calm tone.

  “Once more, that is correct, My Lord.”

  “That is a very... ambitious plan, My Lady,” he said, obviously judging his words. “May I ask whether you are certain about your level of success? There is, after all, no failure on individual subjects. Should you fail even one course, you will fail them all, and you will not be able to graduate to the next level.”

  Liane was silent, resting her head against the wall propping up her back. “My former Proctor has taught me well, My Lord,” she finally answered, still staring at the ceiling. “For instance, I do not believe I have slept more than an average of four hours a night since my second year. She was determined to make me the best Mage at this Academy. I have too much respect for her and her hard work not to aim for the highest peaks.”

  Milor nodding, taking a few seconds to think about the various statements. “Allow me to wish you luck, My Lady. Should you ever be in need of assistance in your endeavors, please do not hesitate to ask. I have the impression that, one day, it will be a great honor for me to be able to say that I was once of assistance to you.”

  Liane fought down the blush that threatened to creep up on her cheeks. “Thank you, My Lord. Your generous offer will not be forgotten.”

  Milor hopped to his feet, and held out a hand in a gesture to help her up. “We should go announce our decisions, My Lady.”

  Liane placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. With four hours of combat training a day, Milor had developed a lot of physical strength in his body. “We should, My Lord. Although I do believe I will shower first, if for no other reason but to get rid of the smell of sweat – and failed spell-residue.”

  Milor gave a single chuckle. “I do believe that is a good plan, My Lady. Shall we meet in front of the administrative building in, let's say, twenty minutes?”

  Liane thought it over for a few moments, then nodded. “I believe I will be able to make myself presentable in twenty minutes, My Lord,” she answered, finding it somewhat odd that he would want to meet up before going to announce their decisions for their elective courses to the administration. She decided not to ask, chalking it up to the strange things friends did, and departed from him without a further word, making her way to her own, single, room. She needed to shower. Badly.

  After her shower, and a five-minute indulgence with her automatic hairbrush, Liane changed robes, before dumping her old ones in the hamper. It blurred, and vanished, only to reappear, empty. She paid it no attention, used to the workings of magic around her. She only needed to pay attention when something didn't happen, for that usually meant the item in question had used up its charge, and she needed to replace the power token to have it in working condition once more.

  Crossing the courtyard to the administrative building, Liane thought back to her earlier conversation with her friend, and a small frown appeared on her forehead. She really didn't like the lack of courses he would be taking. She remembered how Cassandra had once told her that only few Nobles choose to put in added effort. Her friend didn't seem to be an exception, and Liane didn't like it. She wanted him to do better.

  She didn't really know why she wanted him to do better, either.

  Seeing him wait next to the entrance to the administrative building she was aiming for, she squared her shoulders, and made up her mind.

  He was too polite to note that she was late. “Shall we go in, My Lady?” he asked politely.

  She motioned instead to the beautiful silver fountain in the middle of the grassy courtyard. “If it would please My Lord, may we resume our conversation from this morning before we go and announce our decisions?”

  He lifted an eyebrow, that infuriating motion she still couldn't perform despite countless hours spent in front of a mirror. “It seems you have something important you want to discuss, My Lady,” he said, looking intently at her, before shifting his attention to the fountain in question. It was another beautiful day at the Academy – thanks to the Sun Charm, it always was.

  “I think it is of some importance, yes, My Lord,” she told him.

  “We do have until four pm to make our decisions known,” he finally said, more to himself than to her. As they reached the fountain, he motioned. “What is so important, My Lady?” he asked.

  “Thank you, My Lord,” she said, starting to walk to one of the benches that lined the fountain, allowing them to sit and admire the unidentified sculpture. Made by an unknown mage of earlier times, there really wasn't a single line or figure that could be discounted in it. According to the plaque that identified it, the sculpture was supposed to signify 'magic to the wielder', and everyone was supposed to see something else in it. To Liane, it looked like a mess. Beautiful, but a mess.

  “You wished to discuss something, My Lady?” Milor asked after they had stared at the sculpture in silence. They were not the only ones to do so – contemplating the fountain in silence was a reputable way of resolving difficult magical problems at the Academy.

  “I wish to ask something, My Lord,” Liane said. “However, I do not wish for it to cause misconceptions between us.”

  Milor was silent, and contemplated the sculpted fountain. For a moment, Liane wondered what he saw, when he replied, “Then the only advice I can give you is to think of your question, and move forward, My Lady. The only losing move is not to play. Make your decision on whether or not to pose your question, then stick to it.”

  She nodded when he went on, “However, judging from the fact that you have asked me to join you, it seems to me that you have already made your decision, My Lady.”

  Liane let out her breath. “My Lord, may I ask what guided you to your decision regarding your future courses?”

  Milor's lips twitched. “Part of me should have known this would be your question, My Lady,” he answered. “However, as we are not allowed to discuss our backgrounds, I don't think I can give you an answer that would be satisfactory to you.” He turned to face her. “My only concern is to graduate as a Master Warlock, My Lady. The courses I take do not really matter for my future, and that is, unfortunately, all I can say about it. Please do not ask me further.”

  Liane nodded, thinking about his answer. She focused her attention back on the sculpted fountain. It looked like a swan right now, before she lost the outline her mind had just spun, and it looked like a mess once more. This time, the mess was ugly, rather than beautiful. “I understand, My Lord, and thank you for telling me as much as you have.”

  “You are welcome, My Lady,” he replied levelly. “However, I do not think that answer was satisfactory to you.”

  She shrugged faintly. “You have explained your reasoning as well as you are allowed to, My Lord. However, I find it... disappointing... that you would choose the easy path.”

  Milor remained silent, and contemplated the statue in front of them for a few moments. “May I ask in what way, M
y Lady? All that is required of me is to graduate as a Master Warlock. Why should I risk the remainder of my future by taking more subjects, subjects I can fail, which would jeopardize said future?”

  Liane leaned back against the bench they were sitting on, and stared straight up, to the charmed blue sky and the charmed sun. “In the years I have been here, My Lord, I have seen wonders, and miracles, and feats of magic that boggle the mind, and I find myself wishing to be able to duplicate those feats. I do not know your future nor your background, My Lord, but whatever your future holds; do you not think it would be beneficial to know more than the mere basics?”

  Milor remained silent. “That is a difficult question, My Lady, one I do not think I could answer without discussing more of my background,” he finally said after a lengthy contemplation.

  Liane motioned to the sky. “Do you ever wonder, My Lord, how the sky can remain blue, and the sun can remain bright, when all the other magical appliances at the Academy require the use of power tokens?” She lifted her arm displaying the animated fire on her robes. “Or why my robes are animated while at the Academy and static outside of it?”

  He frowned slightly, and looked up at the sky. “No, I have never wondered, My Lady. However, now that you have mentioned it, I find myself curious.”

  “I know the answer from the lessons taken with my Proctor, My Lord,” Liane replied levelly. “If you wish to know, please join me in Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols.”

  Milor was silent, then turned to face her. “You, My Lady, are an evil and manipulative Mage,” he said; his face calm but a curiously amused undertone in his voice.

  “Thank you, My Lord.”

  He chuckled. “Very well. I shall join you in that one course, My Lady.” Before she could say anything, he lifted one finger, and spoke, “BUT! That is the only course I will take in addition to the ones I had already planned on taking, and I will expect you to assist me during those two years so that I will pass. I will not risk my future because you have the notion that I should take more courses.”