The Magic, Warped (The MagicWarper Trilogy Book 1)

by Rick Field

  Liane blinked, not having expected that sort of response. Especially the title confused her, and it took her a few long moments to regain her mental composure. “My Ladies, I require your aid. I have great need to return myself and my two companions to the capital as quickly as possible, and there are none faster than the winds that circle the planet,” she finally said, deciding that, since the spirit referred to itself as plural, she would play along.

  The winds were still there, she realized, just circling in an endless circle that did not touch her. Only the rushing of the winds could be heard for quite a few long seconds, seconds the winds took to decide on her plight. “We are aware of speed, Liane of the Magical Currents. We, however, do not have neither time nor inclination to agree to this request ourselves. A large storm is being formed over the Pacific Ocean, and we need our attention there. Balance must be maintained.”

  The winds remained silent then, yet Liane did not return to reality, and hoped that she still had a chance to convince the Air Spirit otherwise. “Of course you are quite busy, My Ladies,” she said, attempting to placate the powerful force surrounding her. “I would not require your time or attention, I merely would ask for the transport and the power it requires.”

  Once more, Omkiel was silent. “Kneel, Liane of Magical Currents,” the thousand voices finally said.

  Liane blinked. She was a Noble of Kiria; the first lesson that had been drilled into her head was that a Noble only ever kneeled to the Lord Emperor.

  She hesitated.

  “KNEEL!” The voices, respectful and many until now, became one and foreboding. Power lashed around Liane, and breath did not come. She gasped, knelt, did as was requested.

  “We shall aid you, Liane of the Magical Currents. In return for six months of your lifespan, we shall aid you. Agree to this bargain, and you shall walk from here, Envoy of Air, with command over the Trade Winds, mastery over hurricane and tornado, and power over the element of air... until you have delivered your friend to his destination or until a period of twelve hours has expired. Agree to these terms, Liane of the Magical Currents, and for that time, you shall be one of the most powerful mortals to walk the Earth.”

  Liane swallowed. Envoy of Air? Ercharthaetuli had taken command of her body to smite her enemy, Haturori had merely boosted her body and left her alone, but Omkiel would actually place a large portion of her power under Liane's direct control and send her on her way to perform her task in any way or fashion she chose?

  And all it would cost is half a year of her life.

  She drew breath. “By the power of threefold three,” she intoned ritualistically, “I, Liane, the MagicWarper, consent to the deal, accept the obligation, and comply with your demands, Lady Omkiel. I sign the contract made, offer my vow on the bargain struck, and embrace the power you offer. I will admit to your requests and welcome your influence. My name is Liane, known as the MagicWarper, and I agree to pay the price you have set forth.”

  The winds laughed, a thousand different tinkling voices bombarding her senses. “Then rise, Liane of the Magical Currents! Rise as the Envoy of Air, and fulfill your obligation!”

  Liane stood, and the no-time and pseudo-reality shattered, leaving her standing right where she had been. Air's power quivered over her skin, and she drew a breath.

  The air sang to her lungs, filled with traces of scent and hints of gasses. It felt glorious and intoxicating, and she drew another deep breath, just to savor the feeling once more. The dark night no longer felt dark or oppressive, it was merely another time of day, a simple concept that no longer mattered to her. Air was everywhere and anywhere, air filled cracks, rose over mountains and descended into caves.

  “My Lady?” Milor asked.

  “We shall go, My Lord,” she replied, surprised when her voice quivered and sounded like multiples of herself, the air that surrounded her picking up on her speech and reverberating with it. Milor blinked, took a good look at her, and blinked again.

  “As Envoy of Air, I shall transport us, My Lord,” she whispered, her voice expanding to full speech regardless. Her arms went up, hands pointing to the skies. Wind picked up, tousling dust and stick. Above them, the night sky darkened when clouds rolled in. The wind picked up speed, small branches and stones rolling across the floor.

  As the wind increased, it started in a circle around them, picking up more and more speed as it went, now picking up stone and stick and branch, sweeping dust and sand into the air. The circle expanded, creating a clear space where Liane and her two companions were unaffected by the storm building around them.

  More winds were added, the clouds above their heads starting to circle, faster and faster. On the ground, Milor and Amy could see the wind dig at the ground, ripping stones out of the soil and sweeping them up in the horrible embrace of the forces building under Liane's direction. The trees bent and groaned, thick branches snapping away and joining the powerful dance of air around them.

  The clouds above rotated faster and faster, a funnel started to form, reaching down to the ground. Liane's two outstretched hands balled into fists, and with an effort that seemed inhumane, wrenched them down. The funnel reached down, connecting to the upward draft building on the ground, obscuring the vision of the three travelers completely.

  “Up,” Liane muttered, her whisper somehow sounding above the howling gales. The winds closed in, and Liane was the only one who was not surprised when the floor vanished from beneath their feet.

  “My Lady?” Milor asked, his voice tinted with terror.

  “We fly, My Lord. The fastest way to get to where we need to go is to fly,” Liane answered his unasked question. The next moment, the upward force canceled when they broke through the cloud cover. Beneath them, the clouds rolled out, above them stood, in crystal clarity, the endless starry expanse of the night sky.

  “I have never seen the stars so clearly,” Amy whispered. Her absolute faith in Liane prevented her from being afraid. Concerned with being off the ground, yes. Afraid, no.

  Liane looked up, and nodded. “We are high off the ground, and my power is shielding us, Assistant,” she replied calmly. Internally, she felt giddy with power and pushing to get the rest of the job done, but she could not and would not just brush off her Assistant. “Let us move,” she said, and it was only then that both Amy and Milor realized that they could look straight down and still see the ground, the tornado still present where it had been patiently waiting as if it were content to stay there until the ends of time if that was what Liane wished of it.

  “Forward,” she intoned, and slowly, they started to move, forward. The acceleration was minute, but it was constant, and the faster they went the more they leaned forward, carried by the forces of the wind under Liane's command.

  Within minutes, they were lying completely flat, driven forward by the very air they breathed, the full power of the trade winds driving them on. The energy broke through the clouds, revealing the ground beneath them, and it was only then that Milor and Amy realized just how fast they were moving.

  They were well past Sevenoaks, well underway to the large capital that loomed in the night. Their altitude was enough to allow them to see both the capital, and the ground they were clearing, and the voyage was both comfortable and short.

  It took them less than an hour to return to the capital using wind's speed, and Liane put them down in the middle of the large square in front of the Academy entrance. The powerful protections around the capital did not impede the power of the element of air, but Liane did gasp when the wards latched onto her painful magical core and exerted their tax.

  She landed perfectly on her feet, while Amy and Milor stumbled. “My apologies,” she said. “This is my first time and I'm afraid the landing was a bit rough.”

  Milor cast his date-time spell. “Amazing, My Lady. Absolutely amazing. We have almost two hours left. You got us here in less than an hour.”

  Liane nodded, feeling the power of the wind hold her up now that two pints of h
er blood had vanished and six months had been deducted from her lifespan. She was glad for it, she wanted her answers and it would not do to be too weak of mind and body to remember the disclosure.

  “I must now do what I must do, My Lady,” Milor said. “This way.”

  Liane had assumed his business would be in the Upper City, and thus had put them down at a central location. Much to her surprise, the walk took a short five minutes.

  They ascended the stairs to the Imperial Palace, and Liane threw her friend a curious look. Milor ignored her and entered through the public doors without hesitation. Liane and Amy followed behind. Air's power was still with Liane, and it was propping her up now. With two pints of blood missing, she would not be able to walk, let alone walk this briskly.

  She just hoped the power would last her until she got her answers.

  Milor kept walking, going deeper and deeper into the palace. Liane and Amy followed silently until they reached an elaborate set of double doors.

  Closed double doors.

  Four guards, two on either side, stood in protection of the passageway “I am required inside,” Milor told the guards, with a tone of utmost confidence and superiority. The four guards looked at Milor, snapped to attention, and pushed the doors open with little to no effort and without speaking a word. Liane's curiosity reached a fever pitch; who was her friend that he was able to command palace guards?

  “May I ask what the delay is, My Lord?” they heard a voice drift from inside.

  Milor took that as his cue, and stepped inside. Liane followed right behind him, and wished that her core hadn't been hurt as badly as it had been when it freed her from the restraints, now hours ago. Water, then Air, had been propping her up, but she knew that was only temporary. She felt naked and vulnerable without magic of her own.

  “My Lords, My Ladies. My most humble apologies for the delay, it seems that someone saw fit to attempt to delay me from this important ceremony,” Milor said, loudly, into the cavernous room they emerged into. His voice immediately drew the attention of everyone present, and Liane felt faint, not because of the lack of blood in her veins, but just who had been gathered into the room.

  “It was only thanks to my good friend, the Lady Liane, the MagicWarper, Prime Student of the Kirian Academy of Magic, that I was able to make it to this ceremony in time and intact,” he went on, stepping further into the room, seemingly not at all concerned by the fact that the entire upper echelon of the Kirian Nobility was focused on him.

  When he said her name, and motioned to her, she could only straighten her spine and set her shoulders while the Lords and Ladies present took her in. During the few moments of allowed silence, she glanced through the room for anyone she knew personally, rather than by name and fame.

  She saw the Lord Master, and dipped her head in his direction. He dipped his head back. To her surprise, she also found that Pertogan was present, together with his master. She focused again on Milor when he resumed speaking. “As is required, I am present here, on the last Christmas Eve before my majority, to undergo the Ritual of Ascension. Lord Father, do I have your permission?”

  Milor's gaze focused on one person, and Liane tracked his vision to a slender man seated upon a large throne at the other end of the room, an area that had been hidden from her view until now. Powerful magic was at play here, but all thoughts of activating her magic sight went out the room when her eyes were caught.

  She looked at the man, seated on his throne. Involuntarily, her eyes flashed to the wall behind him.

  Elija Imperat Kiria, she read, the words written in the ancient Templar tongue. Those three words answered so many questions, yet asked a great many more at the same time.

  Engraved underneath the ancient Templar words were the immortal words of the Imperial House of Kiria. “I maintain, protect, guide, and defend.”

  The Lord Elija of Kiria, better known as Lord Emperor of the Kirian Empire. She realized just who she had been looking at. Liane's eyes looked at Milor. Her friend was... a Prince?

  “My Son, you have my permission,” the Emperor said, and Liane blinked, both at what was being said, and what was not being said. The Emperor had not used an honorific, yet had addressed Milor straight out, accepting him as his son.

  “Thank you, Lord Father,” Milor said gratefully, and stepped to one side of the room, where a nondescript door was present. Liane immediately recognized it.

  It was a door similar to the Arbitrator of Elements. It was the room that had once bestowed the name MagicWarper on her. Why was a similar room here, and what did Milor mean by 'Ritual of Ascension'?

  Her friend stepped to the door, but turned before entering it. “My Lords, My Ladies. As is required, I will now step into this room. Magic will test me, and should it find me worthy, I will emerge as your Crown Prince. Should it find me unworthy, I shall not emerge at all. As is required, I will now bequeath my possessions, should I not return. I am well aware that, habitually, my possessions would return to my Lord Father. However, I feel I must break with this tradition.”

  He looked straight at Liane, and went on, “Because of her friendship and loyalty, I bequeath all my worldly possessions to the Lady Liane, The MagicWarper. She has stood by me, risking her life and a fate worse than death, for my safety, before she ever knew who I was. In the name of the friendship that she showed me when I was but a mere student at the Academy, I wish all my effects to go to her should I not return from this chamber.”

  He looked at the Emperor then, and Liane found herself doing the same. She felt shocked. Shocked and weak, the power of air leaving her now that Milor was close to his goal. The two pints of missing blood was catching up to her, and the surprise of finding out Milor's status was not helping. The revelation of her being his sole heir should he not be found worthy by magic was no better.

  The Emperor looked at his son, yet did not seem to be too terribly upset from what Milor had done, then glanced at her.

  Liane at once realized why this man was the Emperor of Kiria.

  By itself, his magic was powerful. Definitely more powerful than the Warlocks she had fought to free herself and Milor, but not as powerful as the Doctorii at the Academy, and not nearly as powerful as the Lord Master by a long shot. It was not just the Emperor's own magic, however, and her fine senses could detect the entire realm's worth of magical power brimming beneath this man's thoughts and fingers.

  She didn't find him frightening as he studied her, not the way the Lord Master used to frighten her. The Emperor was calm and collected, studying her as she was studying him. He was not out to harm her, she realized, and was merely curious as to what she was, dressed as a Commoner, entering the palace, and being named heir to his son. He seemed to find what he had been looking for, and dipped his head. “My son has made a wise choice,” he declared to the room at large before focusing on Milor. “Go now, and emerge as Crown Prince of Kiria.”

  “Yes, Lord Father,” Milor whispered. He exchanged one last look with Liane, before turning and entering the room. The door closed behind him.

  All focus of the room turned to her, and she resisted the urge to fidget. The power of the envoy had left her completely, and she was barely able to keep standing. She hoped that the attention of the Lords and Ladies present would abate soon, and allow her some time to slip over to Pertogan's side. They had been talking through correspondence only these last few years, and she wanted to talk to him again.

  She focused on remaining upright instead. Without air's power supporting her, her body was growing weaker by the minute. Instead of looking for Pertogan, she was looking for a chair now.

  To her surprise, she suddenly found him right next to her. “My Lady,” he said jovially. “It is good to see you again.” he glanced at her, and she would have blushed if she had the blood for it. “And those clothes do offer an enticing view.”

  She barely manager to offer him a wan smile. The shirt and trousers she was wearing did reveal more shapes and curves than the tradi
tional robes did. “It's good to see you again as well, My Lord,” she whispered.

  “You do not look alright, My Lady,” Pertogan said, concerned. “Are you well?”

  “I was forced to part with two pints of blood, My Lord. It was tribute for a major spell required to allow My Lord Milor to return within time,” she explained, about as well as she could.

  Pertogan nodded business-like. “Necromancy has similar spells, My Lady. Allow me to assist.” He pulled a wooden staff from somewhere. “Please lean on this, My Lady. I'm afraid there are no seats available at this moment.”

  She accepted the implement gratefully, grabbed hold of it with both hands, and did her best to appear as if she were merely holding and admiring it, instead of leaning on it. “I wish I could offer more help, My Lady,” he said, making motions as if he were explaining some of the characteristics of the staff.

  “Perhaps I can be of assistance, My Lord,” Amy whispered lowly. “I have researched a spell that will allow me to transfer blood between two people.”

  Pertogan looked at the younger girl, then at Liane. “My Assistant has done it before, My Lord.”

  He looked at the younger girl once more. “In that case, please do, Assistant. Please do not transfer two pints, however. That would leave me in a similar problem as your Proctor. I will trust you on this.”

  “Thank you for your trust, My Lord,” Amy said, and covertly placed a hand on each of them. Her lips quivered as she muttered her spell, and Liane started feeling better almost immediately. The spell stopped before she felt completely fine, but she felt better than she had been earlier.

  Pertogan shook his head slightly, then smiled when he accepted his staff back. It vanished back from where he had gotten it. “You have a curious Assistant, My Lady. Very impressive.”