by Robert York
Magic is more or less the same. Now, I’m not going to waste more words along with blank pages to explain the magical arts. That’d take up more time, which we don’t have and would possibly be extremely boring to you the reader. Probably more boring than this book is possibly all ready. If you diehards are interested in learning about the magical arts they’ll be covered in later editions of this narrative. All you really need to know now is that a Wizard is someone wired at the genetic level to manipulate the energy within our universe, which contains a lot of it. Wizards can accumulate the energy that exists around us storing it like a battery then use it as needed. Most of the time people that have a bit of magic ability in them don’t absorb energy consciously it just happens naturally like breathing. They take in small amounts without knowing it. Others like myself are true Wizards; we can absorb more energy using it in more complex ways.
There are varying degrees of people in the world with this ability. Just like there are a few great baseball players out there, like Babe Ruth or Roberto Clemente. When you get the chance to watch them play ball you’re in awe that they’re that good at what they do. Then there are the other players that play on the same teams with these all stars that suck to varying degrees, which is painful to watch at times. A trained Wizard in the magical arts can take the energy that he or she has absorbed releasing it in a manner that depends largely on the spell employed. Our minds visualize, shaping the desired spell we wish to unleash and having a vivid imagination, concentration, knowledge about a variety of subjects as well as a determined will are the key. The words that a Wizard says or thinks binds the mind and energy together, but we need an object to focus that power, otherwise the energy dissipates becoming useless. A wooden staff was the first focus item used in magic or that is what many magic scholars believe. Staffs are still widely used today. Certain woods are better to utilize than others. Then one day long ago, a lazy Wizard that got tired of lugging a heavy piece of wood around decided to use just a tiny branch discovering it worked almost as well as the staff. He or she called it a “wand” just to be different. Then over the years Wizards found that certain metals worked even better, which led to a larger variety of focuses to be created. Some Wizards use canes, bracelets or rings as their “wands”.
As I may have said already, most everyone in the world has some sort of latent magical ability. Just look around. There are people that are good at gambling, some are good at business, a few are good at sports or can find lost objects, and some can see things about to happen or cook fabulous meals. The list of minor magical abilities goes on, but it’s a rare thing indeed to find someone that can actually wave a wand and make something happen. It’d probably surprise you that out of the world’s population today less than a few hundred thousand people scattered around the inhabited continents can actually wield magic to a devastating degree. Now having said all of that, I can “zap” or shift myself from one place to another with ease.
What you may or may not have realized or taken into consideration is that the location we’re in has magical spells and defensive wards laid down all over the place. All of them specifically to prevent Normal’s, from stumbling into the valley or to keep Wizards with less than honorable intentions from popping in unannounced. The only reason we were able to shift here in the first place was the tethered circles. The first circle located inside Blackmane’s Magic Shoppe, the other being the snow covered stone glyph that we shifted onto when we arrived. So that means my faithful, yet occasional surly reader, we have to walk through the knee-high snow, in the cold.
The spiral path that led to Bialek’s compound wound its way up to the top of a heavily wooded hill roughly three hundred feet in height. One had to be careful because there were false paths, pitfalls and magical defenses every step of the way. Luckily for our group, Barnabas knew where many of the defenses were, because he helped create them. Otherwise, our group would’ve been minus one Werewolf named Race, who enjoyed “marking” things.
For those defenses Barnabas didn’t know, he was able to reveal or detect them with a magic spell although with a few it took some time to figure out the correct disarming spell. As we reached the summit, Bialek’s compound lay roughly fifty yards ahead of us concealed by a first class wall of magical energy, invisible to the naked eye yet very powerful. The bad thing about it, if there were a downside to such a cool display of magic was that the wall masked everything behind it. All an observer could see was the surrounding forest, there wasn’t any indication that a human had made their mark on this place nor were there any signs that a disturbance had taken place.
We remained outside the wall for nearly three hours waiting for Barnabas to disengage it so that we could proceed. This particular defensive spell stumped him blunting all his attempts to take it down. To say that he was not in a good mood would’ve been an understatement. Tilly sat next to me on his pack fidgeting with a button sewn to his coat. I sat on my pack eating some beef jerky. Race lay curled up in a ball under a nearby tree recovering from his “accident”. Wilmar rested on a log reading one of the books he’d gotten from me, Captain Blood by Rafael Sabatini I think. Bart was breaking logs in half with an index finger. I’d wager watching the intensity at how he dispatched those defenseless logs that he pulled the wings off of flies in his youth, behavior many experts believe leads to the wearing and or eating of human skin and body parts. Adrianna sat cross-legged on a large flat rock in the shade of a group of dense trees. Her eyes closed, a smile of serene contentment shown upon her face as if in deep meditation. Being a curious young man and a Wizard, I wondered what thoughts might be on her mind.
Now, I’ve never been one to buy into the myth that Vampires read minds, but a curious thing happened. Adrianna languidly opened one eye focusing it in my direction the corners of her mouth quirking up into an amused smile. That doesn’t prove anything I know, she could’ve just had a reaction similar to a predator prey response. I’m not in any way saying that I’m a predator, but everyone’s had that feeling they’re being watched at least once in their lives if not more often. She puckered her lips sending me a kiss over the distance between us closing her eye once more. Tilly touched my arm getting my attention as well as drawing my eyes away from Adrianna.
“Master,” he said in a hushed voice.
“Hmmm,” I said chewing a mouthful of jerky sounding a bit put off.
“Would Master Barnabas be cross with me if I offered some assistance?”
As if on cue, a ball of white-hot fire issued forth from Barnabas’s open palm incinerating three large trees to his right.
“Jumping Butterballs!!! Save me from Kings and Idiots!” Barnabas yelled in frustration.
Barnabas doesn’t say any of the good profane words. That list of specific words that get your mouth washed out with a bar of soap for using. He chooses instead to use such vulgar disdainful language that was in constant practice roughly a little over a century ago when Teddy Roosevelt was President.
“No not at all,” I said around a mouthful of jerky, a smile on my face.
Tilly cringed moving closer to me, shifting away from Barnabas for protection.
“Look,” I said finally after swallowing. “If you know something that’ll help us get to the compound then tell him. He won’t be upset with you, only with himself because he cannot figure it out.”
Tilly looked up at me then over to Barnabas giving a quick nod, obviously deciding his course of action. The little Elf got up, brushed off his pants then trudged over to a very old, very upset Wizard.
“Master Barnabas,” Tilly said timidly.
Barnabas closed his eyes taking a deep calming breath as he turned to look down at Tilly.
“What is it Tilly,” he asked, obvious frustration in his voice.
Tilly cringed at Barnabas’s tone and glowering expression, but I have to give the little guy credit, he stood his ground pressing on.
“Well Sir,” he began. “My Master... that is my former Master, made a pass k
ey of sorts in order for me to move through the defensive wall should the need arise, because as you may or may not have realized there is no way to take down the wall unless Master Bialek deactivates it himself...” His words caught on something he was going to say; instead a pained expression appeared on his face before he continued.
“We know he can no longer do that.” Tilly finished his voice cracking.
Barnabas stared down at the Cob Elf for a long silent moment and then he knelt in front of him placing an understanding hand gently on Tilly’s shoulder.
“Where is this passkey?” Barnabas asked.
Tilly gestured at the area of his neck.
“Since this will be attached to me for the foreseeable future, Master Bialek enchanted it for the purpose of being a passkey.” Tilly said in a just between us tone even though we could all hear him.
Barnabas pondered this revelation carefully then asked.
“I assume that only you might be able to pass through the barrier,”
Tilly nodded enthusiastically,
Barnabas gave a thankful though disappointed pat to Tilly’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry Tilly, unless we can bring down the wall so that all of us may pass through the barrier, the passkey unfortunately is of no use to us,”
Barnabas gave Tilly a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder.
“Thank you Tilly.”
Then he stood turning back to ponder the wall.
“Master Barnabas,” Tilly said tentatively.
Barnabas continued to ponder vexed at the wall.
“I was also shown how to take down the wall should I need to return with help.”
At that revelation I think I perked up considerably. Though I was fairly surprised that it took as long as it did for Tilly’s words to register in Barnabas’s brain. He must’ve had a serious case of tunnel vision going on there
Barnabas’s head turned in the direction of Tilly like an old great horned owl’s zeroing in on its prey.
“Well, why the devil didn’t you say so in the first place,” he said, frustration giving way to exhalation. “Right, off you go!”
Barnabas hooked a finger in the direction of the invisible wall.
Tilly started in a way that might lead an observer to believe he wasn’t too keen on the idea or that he hadn’t thought completely about helping or factoring in the consequences of such a rash decision. His hand rose to his face absentmindedly, fingertips resting on his lips in a contemplative gesture.
We got to our feet gathering up our belongings. I grabbed Tilly’s backpack, astounded at how much such a tiny thing weighed. It was only a third of the size of mine. What did he have in this thing, bricks? Then it dawned on me, I hadn’t seen Race’s backpack since we arrived. Tilly’s pack must be some sort of Ambry Bag. An Ambry bag is an enchanted bag for storing things. The bags can open to accommodate large objects or a large number of larger objects. The bag’s storage space is limited by the type of spell it has upon it. I’ve heard from various individuals that Cob Elves utilized Ambry bags more than anyone in the magical community. This however was the first time I think that I’ve ever seen one up close.
Barnabas gazed down at Tilly, his right eyebrow cocked in a disapproving arch.
“Well,” he said, restraint in his voice.
Tilly started nervously at Barnabas’s tone. Turning, he rushed headlong into the wall of energy without thinking twice about whatever might be on the other side. I wasn’t sure if he was more scared of the unknown or Barnabas’s angry temper. Over the years I’ve learned to loathe Barnbas’s temper. Given the choice between a sternly worded lecture from Barnabas or being eaten by a rock scaled dragon known to be the meanest and most vicious breed of that species, I would take the lecture. Come on, do you honestly think that I would willingly be eaten by a dragon?
Tilly passed through the barrier easily. All that happened was a rippling effect appearing at the place where he entered, like a pebble tossed into a still pond. The wait for him to shut off the wall of energy took a minute maybe two, but it felt like an eternity. I think I could’ve spoken for everyone present - except Bart of course - that we were all worried about Tilly with varying degrees of concern. The thought he may have confronted something dangerous crossed my mind a few times. Ultimately Tilly accomplished his task. What was revealed to us when the wall vanished like a wisp of smoke made me shudder.
Tilly stood fifteen or so yards away and about as many yards to the left from the point he entered the barrier, his hand pressed loosely against a tree that had been sheared off three feet from the ground. In fact, all the trees had been violently culled in the same manner. As though a great explosion had occurred in the center of the protective shield leveling everything in its destructive path. Bialek’s stone compound which he called home for hundreds of years simply wasn’t there, stone debris encircling a blackened crater fifteen feet deep were all that remained.
Judging by the amount of debris it was a good-sized structure. Two twelve foot wooden pikes stood on either side of a mostly snow covered stone path that led to what was until recently the entrance to the compound, bodies rode on the sharpened points like mangled insects on display in a gruesome menagerie. Scattered around the area of destruction were some body parts from creatures I couldn’t identify, though there were a few bubbling remains I did recognize, those of Vampires. I was amazed that the Vampire remains were still here and that the suns rays hadn’t obliterated them. Perhaps the wall of energy somehow preserved them. Whatever the reason, the battle that took place here was ferocious and bloody. Bialek had apparently taken many of his attackers with him.
Barnabas moved carefully over to Tilly following the path the little guy made in the snow. I followed Barnabas’s lead not wanting to blunder into any booby traps. Barnabas knelt beside Tilly, placing a hand on the Elf’s left shoulder consolingly. Tilly’s reaction to Barnabas’s gesture was slow. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the scene of destruction focusing his numb disbelieving gaze on Barnabas’s eyes. Tears streamed down his face. He opened his mouth in a vain attempt to say something, but the emotions he was experiencing choked them off. He closed his mouth as his eyes returned to the destruction.
I approached Tilly from the other side kneeling next to him just as Barnabas had done. I was about to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder when he turned burying his face in the soft material of my coat sobbing uncontrollably. I patted his back gently attempting to console him. The others moved in around us tense and wary. Wilmar along with Barnabas moved over to a blackened blob of what until recently was some sort of living creature.
Barnabas poked at the blob with the inquisitive nature of a cat using the end of his staff. Wilmar knelt close to the blob thrust two fingers into the mass, rubbing the substance between his thumb and forefingers, before - and this is disgusting - he smelled and tasted it. I nearly vomited up the beef jerky watching.
“Mid-Realm beast,” Wilmar said, disgust in his tone. “I’d stake my life on it.”
“Yes,” Barnabas said agreeing with Wilmar’s assessment. “The question is, which beast. Judging by the number of remains...” He trailed off considering. “There were many such creatures.”
Wilmar stood scanning about as Adrianna and Bart began examining the Vampire corpses or rather what remained of them. Race moved silently around investigating the outer area of the carnage.
“There were at least fifty of these Mid-Realm creatures along with twenty vampires by my count,” Wilmar said moving to the corpse Adrianna was examining.
“This Vampire was from the Alverez clan,” Adrianna said standing.
She moved to the next pile of Vampire remains that was about ten yards away kneeling beside them.
“Alverez Clan,” She said standing, moving to the next.
She paused on these remains, pain mixed with betrayal filling her expression. When she spoke she choked back what sounded like tears or anger, I simply wasn’t sure.
“Thorne cla
n... This one was one of my family.”
She stood glaring at the remains, her expression unreadable. She moved over to an uprooted tree sitting down upon the trunk.
“These over here are Menconi and Thorne,” Bart said.
Tilly composed himself removing his face from the newly formed saucer sized tear stained wet spot on my coat. I stood observing Adrianna as Tilly took out one of his fancy handkerchiefs to dab away the tears under his swollen eyes. I placed his pack beside him before making my way over to Adrianna. I had no idea what she was feeling. Betrayal is an ugly thing to experience. It gnaws at you like no other feeling can, because it involves both love and trust. I’m a firm believer you can’t give someone your trust without first loving them. In my short life I’d yet to feel betrayal anywhere near the level that Adrianna was experiencing it at the moment. I’d been hurt sure, but I’ve never had my trust violently ripped from me. My trust has been bruised somewhat over the years - this little adventure being the worst in that regard - just like most people in the world at one time or another.
Her people, her clan was of her blood, literally. The blood that coursed within their veins came directly from her. For lack of a better phrase, all the Vampires she created were essentially her children. Just like human infants after someone is turned they need to be cared for as well as protected until they’re strong enough. The newly turned are also taught how to be a Vampire. There are some though, familiars that are educated in becoming a Vampire long before they are turned. Sort of a Vampire in training if you will. Adrianna and her people invest time, patience, resources and yes even love in rearing their Vampire children.
