Delver Magic: Book 06 - Pure Choice

by Jeff Inlo

  "Read this out loud," the sorcerer demanded. "I want everyone to hear it."

  The elf said nothing at first. He only looked down at the hand written notes. After reading a few lines to himself, he decided to start over at the beginning and read them for all the elves to hear.

  "'Ebony magic directed with a mix toward shadow and alteration has the power to move through the mind as a sponge, a knife, or both. In regards to a sponge, it can absorb thoughts by becoming a shadow of memories. After the spell is given adequate time to seep into the target's mind, the shadow must only be consumed by the caster and the thoughts become apparent. With added alteration, the very same thoughts can be erased from the target's mind. With greater concentration focused upon alteration and less on shadow, the magic can be utilized to seize the thoughts by cutting through the layers of consciousness and creating a silhouette of each broken strand. By themselves, the strands are nothing more than jumbled memories, but the silhouette will seek to reform into an organized image and bring the thoughts back into their original form.'"

  The elf stopped and looked up at the sorcerer who had returned to his desk.

  "I hope the point of that is not lost on any of you," Ansas stated. "I don't need to be congenial. I can simply take what I want from you, but I will ask again—and this is the last time—how did you approach the process of channeling the energy to the casters?"

  It was Scheff who spoke up.

  "One of you answer him."

  Ansas raised an eyebrow.

  "Are you assuming responsibility for them all?"

  "If I have to."

  "That's not quite the elf way."

  "I do not want to see anyone get hurt."

  "What you want is irrelevant. I'm not looking for resignation or even surrender. Surrender means nothing to me in this particular case. I seek information."

  One of the other elves who understood the sinister meaning behind the words from the paper decided to speak up rather than have his mind invaded by magic he knew he could not withstand.

  "I think of buckets."

  Ansas immediately disregarded Scheff and turned to the other elf.

  "Buckets?"

  "Yes, I view the target of the spell as the final receptacle, one large container that has to be constantly filled. I use other buckets to scoop up all the magic within me and then pour it into the receptacle."

  Ansas shook his head and dismissed the consideration with a wave of his hand.

  "Your thought process is inefficient. You created a series of intermittent steps when they are not necessary. What about you?" the sorcerer demanded as he turned to another elf.

  "I think of a flood. The magic has to..."

  "Completely foolish," Ansas interrupted, unwilling to hear anything further. "The principle is reversed. There is no flood. The magic is diminishing. It is the complete opposite."

  "I project a wave," another elf offered.

  "What kind of wave?"

  "Like on the sea. It pulls more magic in from..."

  Ansas waved that elf off as well.

  "More nonsense. All of you seem obsessed with water, but that can't be right. One of you was doing something different. Now I want to know who it was and what guided the process!"

  "Hunger," a young elf whispered.

  Ansas eyed the elf.

  "Say again!"

  "Hunger," the elf repeated, and then expanded on the thought process. "The caster is burning through energy and must be replenished. Hunger."

  "A flame based technique. Very interesting. Do you inherently cast in an orange hue?"

  The elf nodded.

  Ansas had learned what he needed and disregarded the elves around him. He placed a blank sheet of paper on his desk and began to speak. As he did, his words appeared magically on the paper. It was as if his hand completed each stroke of ink, but such mundane tasks were no longer necessary for a sorcerer of such power.

  "Forming links of magic from one caster to another can be accomplished in several manners, with some more efficient than others. Utilizing the concept of hunger can facilitate a substantial transfer of energy, especially if concentrating upon replenishing the energy in a similar fashion that food or fuel is used to sustain fire. In order to utilize ebony power, hunger must be viewed as a transitional state. Expelling magic through incantations leads to a loss of energy, an alteration from a full state toward an empty state. In terms of ebony magic, it is the transition that is key. Hunger is not the process, but the flag, the warning that a state of change has taken place. Change in the other direction is necessary to remove the hunger."

  Ansas stopped and reviewed the writings. He nodded and put the sheet of paper upon another pile. Satisfied, he returned to his chair and sat back down.

  "Is that all you wanted?" Scheff asked.

  "From those six? Yes."

  "And the rest of us?"

  "You, the girl that glows yellow, and the one that casts strong emerald magic are of possible use to me. The three of you have a decision to make."

  "What if we decide we wish to go home?" Scheff pressed, wondering just how much latitude they were being offered.

  "You will only go home if and when I desire it," Ansas responded, but then his nearly disinterested tone swayed slightly into an expression of greater expectation, as if the elf before him was actually worth his attention. "For one moment in your insignificant life, forget the boundaries of your meager aspirations and consider an opportunity that is unlike any other you could possibly receive."

  Scheff shook his head.

  "You refuse already?"

  "It is all so... common. I expected more from you."

  Ansas appeared more surprised than annoyed.

  "You haven't even heard what I have to say."

  "Does it matter? You will offer us some agreement, a choice for us to make. 'Do this for me and I will spare you' or 'Join me and I will give you power' or something similar in nature. It is as old as elflore. That is why you brought us here, and I find it tiring."

  "Interesting, but inaccurate."

  "Truly? You were not going to offer us some choice of aiding you or facing terrible consequences?"

  "You think I require your aid?"

  Scheff considered that for a moment and realized he had perhaps spoken too soon. He wondered what kind of aid he could actually offer a sorcerer of such ability. Still, even sorcerers of great ability often utilized spies and minions.

  "You said we could be of possible use to you. Those were your words, not mine."

  "Yes, but that is not the substance of the issue. You do have a choice. You need to decide if you wish to become more than you could possibly achieve on your own. Your skills are somewhat impressive, but in truth, you are hunting for scraps when you could be reaching for so much more. If you can raise your inner expectations, you have a chance for greatness, but you must be willing to move forward. I have no intention of wasting my time or energy on trying to persuade you."

  Scheff sighed. "So then it is nothing more than a beggar's deal."

  "You consider yourself a beggar?"

  "My low opinion is not of myself, or even you," Scheff added in order not to insult the sorcerer. "It is of the situation you create. You accuse me of holding to low aspirations and then entice me with riches in power I cannot touch."

  "Then you have a small mind indeed."

  "Be that as it may, I have no intention of offering my services, my life... or my spirit to you in exchange for freedom, position, riches, or anything else you intend on offering."

  "I offer absolutely nothing of the kind. I was only interested in whether you wished to be more than you currently are, but not through simply what I offer. Your growth is based on what you can do on your own."

  For the first time, Scheff was intrigued.

  "You have seen what I can do," the elf finally replied. "I cast the power of the storm and in a perfect circle. You believe I can grow further? Cast perhaps in pure white or even a second circle?
"

  "Are those your aspirations?"

  "What else is there?"

  Ansas eyed the elf carefully.

  "There is the purity of your natural hue," the sorcerer announced with growing enthusiasm. "You think you have been true to your inherent ability, but we both know that is not reality. You have allowed other magic to stain your spells. You have dabbled in spells of water and fire."

  "Both are part of violet energy. The storm brings rain and lightning."

  "If you are going to make excuses, then we are already done and you are of no use to me."

  The words actually bit into Scheff's desires. He didn't want the conversation to end just yet. He thought of being more, of growing, of reaching a greater potential. He always thought he might someday expand his abilities and cast a pure white circle. For most spell casters, that was the ultimate ambition, but the sorcerer seemed to offer something else, something uniquely waiting for Scheff, something that he and he alone could grasp.

  "I want to hear more."

  Ansas didn't smile, revealed no satisfaction. In fact, he felt no great joy or gained no sense of victory. He had neither hopes nor expectations for anyone in particular. If Scheff didn't accept his insight, he would eventually find someone, or something, equally talented in violet magic that would dare to be more. He did, however, find greater interest in discussing what was the center of his own ambitions.

  "Understanding magic is more than discovering new spells, increasing your efficiency, or expanding your talents. It's about remaining true to your inner self, finding the quality that separates you from the rest. I admit you are more skilled with magic than the others in your camp, but what does that make you? How are you truly different than every other elf of the forest?"

  "I cast in a perfect circle," Scheff responded almost defensively.

  "Is that what you consider different? Other elves have achieved a circle as well. They have been forgotten, just as you will be someday."

  Scheff found the remark unsettling. He didn't wish to simply fade away into irrelevance. He tried to defend himself, disclose some reason why the sorcerer was wrong, but he couldn't find the words.

  Ansas revealed another fact that disturbed Scheff.

  "The girl next to you casts in a perfect triangle, not quite a circle I grant you, but it has its own advantages. If anything, she is much more memorable than you. Look at how she shines."

  "But she casts in yellow and I hold the power of the storm. If I wished to shine, it would be in the form of lightning and it would destroy this room."

  "Good! Hold to that thought because I want you to understand that taking full hold of your unique talents can make you more than different... it can make you legendary. You can do more than just destroy a single room. I'm talking about casting spells of pure violet fury, storms powerful enough to tear lands apart, to send seas spinning into the sky, leaving nothing behind but dry land. You have that capability within you, but not while you delude yourself into believing you have remained focused on your true inherent ability."

  Suddenly, Scheff found the discussion almost intoxicating, and he knew the growing desire he felt did not come from the sorcerer, but from within.

  "Let us say I accept your presumption," Scheff allowed, "that I have not been as true to my natural hue as you say. What is it that you can do for me that I can not do for myself?"

  "Two things. I can remove the taint of other hues from within you and I can infuse within you the richness of pure ebony power."

  Scheff, however, saw an immediate contradiction.

  "If I accept your ebony magic, that would spoil the purity of my violet energy, would it not?"

  "Of course not." Ansas shook his head, frustrated he had to explain so much. "What will an infusion of black energy do to any natural hue of magic? It will only darken the shade, not change its basic composition. It will remain violet, but it will be more powerful. I watched you. The energy you cast is already a dark violet. Deepening that shade will not diminish your strength. Can't you understand that?"

  "I think so," Scheff revealed as he struggled to grasp the concept. "I think I see what you mean. If I try to attain white magic, I have to gain equal control over all the hues and give up my single inherent power. I become diluted. But if I focus on only the violet energy, there would be no such dilution. Accepting the black magic within me will not alter my energy, it would just darken the shade... sharpen my focus."

  "So you can understand," Ansas nodded. "I wondered if there might be at least one among you intelligent enough to see."

  "You must not listen to him," Haven Wellseed intervened.

  "It isn't me he's listening to," Ansas corrected the elf. "It's himself."

  "Why are you doing this?" Haven asked.

  "What is it you think I'm doing?"

  "Tempting him.. tempting all of us."

  "You think I'm some demon? Grow up. I am doing nothing but offering you an opportunity."

  "You take us against our will to offer us an... opportunity?" Haven asked, aghast by the sorcerer's presumptuous attitude.

  Ansas replied with a dismissive tone of his own.

  "I took you against your will because I can. I offer you an opportunity because I can. Anything you read into it beyond that is your own imagination."

  "Why will you not simply let us go?" Haven implored.

  "I intend to... eventually. I still have one personal matter that needs to be addressed. I need your camp of elves for that one last matter."

  "You will not hurt us?"

  "I doubt that will be necessary, but I make no guarantees. If I must hurt you to gain what I need, then I will, unless you decide to take me up on the same opportunity I offer to your companion. You are powerful with yellow energy. You could become even more powerful."

  "I have not said I would join you... yet," Scheff noted.

  "I realize that, but that has no bearing on my offer to the others." Ansas then pointed to Haven and another elf at her side, the elf that was proficient in emerald energy. "These two have the same potential as you. I will show them how to grow in skill and power."

  "Why?" Haven demanded.

  "Because I was defeated once, not because I was the lesser skilled caster, but because I was unwilling to stain myself with another hue. A simple spell was cast upon me that held me in check, a spell that could have been broken easily if I allowed myself to cast a lesser spell, a spell that was not ebony in nature. I made the correct decision and I held true to myself."

  "But you just said you were defeated."

  "I lost a single battle. What does that mean? Those that can't learn from defeat are as weak as those that never attain victory. I have learned much." Ansas waved to the piles of pages upon the shelves all around them. "I now know I could have defeated the spell without casting another hue. I could have used the ebony power to defeat any spell, for the black magic is not just shadow, or change, or even death. It is the ultimate energy that passes between all things. When we look into the blackness of a hole, we say that we see nothing, but it is beyond that. We can see into infinity... if you know how to look. Blackness can consume anything and everything. That is the strength of my purity."

  "But we do not cast in black," Haven replied.

  "And you never shall, but you can augment your personal hue with its influence."

  "My glow would darken."

  Ansas glared at what he believed was nothing more than short-sightedness.

  "Are you a servant to the magic, or does the magic serve you?"

  Haven had never been questioned in such a way, but still, she responded with total honesty.

  "I believe it might be both."

  "Then you are a fool. You only have two directions you can take. You can either be like everyone else and aspire for nothing more than being an unfulfilled version of your true self, or you could be one of the most powerful spell casters of your race. Why be just another elf, some nameless follower? Be something more."

 
"I do not aspire for that kind of power."

  Ansas simply shrugged.

  "Then I am finished with you." The sorcerer turned to the elf proficient with emerald magic. "The emerald energy that burns within you is the strongest of any elf in your camp. Four of the six elves that I brought here before you made your doomed effort to break my barrier also cast in green, but they are weak compared to you. When I felt your magic against the barrier, I knew you were stronger. You could be stronger even still, more powerful than you can imagine. Do you wish to consider growing into something more, or do you wish to be like her, a foolish child?"

  "I will not become an enemy of my camp," the elf replied."

  "You are more narrow minded than the female. Fine."

  "What have you done with the others," Haven interrupted, "...to the six you took before us?"

  "They are here. In one of the other rooms. I questioned them, but found their powers and their will lacking."

  "You haven't hurt them?"

  "Why would I waste the energy?"

  "Why didn't you return them?" Haven demanded.

  "Again, why would I waste the energy?"

  It was Scheff who started to view the whole situation in a new light.

  "So we actually did help you. You were looking for the most gifted casters in each hue. We separated ourselves for you."

  Ansas nodded with slight appreciation for the observation.

  "You do have it within you to see more than the others. It would be a shame if you wasted that."

  Haven stepped toward Scheff.

  "You must not listen to him. He only wants to corrupt you."

  "Does he?" Scheff wondered. "He talks about making me stronger, making me something I did not consider before this."

  "He just wants to use you."

  Scheff looked toward Ansas, but the sorcerer said nothing.

  "You have nothing to say?" the elf asked. "No response?"

  "None," the sorcerer replied.

  "You see?" Haven pressed. "He will not argue because he knows it is the truth."

  "And yet," Scheff added, "there is something to this. We can be more powerful than we are. We can reach heights we never considered."