The Oblivion Trials (The Astral Wanderer Book 3)

by D'Artagnan Rey

  “Understood.” She approached the anchor and extended her a hand, and a portal opened soon after. “When you are ready, you can depart.”

  Devol adjusted the straps on his backpack while Jazai and Asla picked theirs up and put them on. They looked at one another again, each with a firm expression of determination, and waved goodbye to their fellow Templars before they walked through the portal.

  When the three emerged, they stood inside a forest. Devol looked at the portal in front of a large oak tree. Their friends and mentors waved through the gateway again before it closed and he was able to see the small symbols carved into the bark of the tree.

  “We are in a forest, not a village,” Asla commented and studied two blue birds that nested above them.

  “Well, the Order doesn’t put anchors in the middle of a village, of course. It’s too risky,” Jazai responded and pointed north. “But the village is only about half a mile outside the forest. If we need anything else, we should stop there before we press on to Reverie.”

  “I have everything I want. What about you guys?” Devol asked.

  Asla nodded while Jazai gave it some thought. After a moment, he nodded as well. “I’m good. So should we go straight there?”

  “That sounds good to me.” The swordsman looked up as the birds flew out of the nest and into the sky. “Hey, Jazai. Do you mind taking your majestic out for a second?”

  The apprentice held a hand up and the book appeared in his grasp. “What do you need?”

  “Check and see if anyone is around,” he requested.

  Jazai flipped the book open and his friends crowded close. They watched as words appeared, but they revealed nothing more than their thoughts and some facts about the local wildlife and fauna. “It seems we’re alone for now,” the diviner noted before he closed the book.

  “It looks like it,” Devol whispered and smiled quickly at his friend. “Well, let’s get going.”

  The other boy chuckled as he clasped the tome shut and slid it into the strappings on his waist. “Onward to oblivion then?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As Jazai had expected, it took the three young magi roughly an hour to arrive at the abandoned town of Reverie. Dark clouds hung above and a thin fog had begun to settle but they took a moment to look around the town. Given its abandonment almost a century earlier, it was in remarkable condition.

  That wasn’t to say that the folky style homes and buildings weren’t in disrepair. Many certainly were and there was some growth between the buildings at the edges of the mining town, but Devol had seen abandoned areas that were all but destroyed and fully reclaimed by nature after only a couple of decades.

  “You know, it’s kind of nice,” he remarked with an impressed edge to his tone. He looked at his teammates, who gawked at him in disbelief. “Well, you know…in comparison.”

  “To hovels?” Asla questioned.

  Jazai shook his head and began to enter the town. “I’ll look for shelter while you try to find your next summer home. We may want to wait out the storm if it starts pouring.”

  They wandered down what was probably the main street. Devol imagined the stalls and stores that had once flourished in the area and the bustle of townsfolk and miners as they went about their days. The deeper they went into the village, and the more the fog set in, the more he began to realize his initial thoughts about the village may have been a little too complimentary.

  Asla sniffed the air and her nose wrinkled. “There’s a stench nearby.”

  “That’s probably only the smell of rot,” Jazai replied flatly. “Even I can smell that without enhanced sense.”

  “This is not that. It’s...more recent.” She turned aside to one of the smaller buildings and pushed the front door open. The two boys followed cautiously as she walked up to a tiny chest on the floor of the main room and opened it. She immediately recoiled, covered her nose with one hand, and reached inside with the other to pull out something covered by a cloth. With a grunt of disgust, she dropped it on the floor and her teammates covered their noses at the rancid smell. Molding cheese tumbled out of it.

  “Cheese?” Devol coughed. “How long has that been here?”

  “It’s not completely moldy.” Jazai pointed out some of the areas not overtaken by the mold. “It must be at least somewhat recent.”

  “That means there were people here,” the wildkin stated and straightened with a grimace. “Could it be bandits?”

  “It’s more likely squatters,” the diviner replied and studied the room. “It seems to be picked clean, but I see what looks like a small washcloth and an empty sack behind the chest.”

  “Wouldn’t other magi trying to get to the trials be more likely?” Devol asked. “I doubt they all discovered the location at the same time we did. Maybe at least a few knew about the nocalocs right away and came here. It’s probably better to wait in this village than the cave.”

  They turned to leave, anxious to escape the smell. “Maybe, but we’re only an hour away from a few villages and a couple of hours away from larger cities. If they intended to wait until the day of the trials, why do it in this village when there are way better options relatively close by?”

  Devol pushed the door open. “Maybe they wanted to see who else was coming…” His words faltered and all of them stared, wide-eyed. The fog outside had thickened considerably and made almost all the buildings look like silhouettes despite being a few meters in front of them. “We were in there for only a couple of minutes, right?”

  “At most.” Jazai grunted and scratched his head in bewilderment. “I suppose we are close to both the mountains and the sea, but fog setting in this fast is unreal.”

  The swordsman looked at Asla. “Hey, what about you? Can you see through any of this?”

  She shook her head. “My wildkin traits allow me to see farther and better in darkness than normal humans can, but not clearer. This fog obstructs my vision the same way it does yours.”

  The diviner retrieved his majestic and opened it. “Fortunately, most roads in the town lead to the main entrance of the caves. As long as the fog doesn’t stop you from putting one foot in front of the other, we’ll be fine.” He took a step forward to continue their journey before Asla threw a hand out to stop him. “Eh? What’s wrong?”

  “Do you hear that?” she asked, her voice quiet.

  “Hear wh—” Jazai began but cut himself off as both he and the other boy heard something that sounded human and akin to a wail or moan. Although they could all hear it now, it sounded weak and possibly ill. “I guess there are others here.”

  Devol grasped the hilt of his sword reflexively. “Should we check it out?”

  “Do you think it could be trouble?” the apprentice asked.

  Asla frowned and shook her head. “The sound— the wailing—seems more like someone is in pain.”

  The diviner flipped to another page. “If it is a squatter or another trial candidate, they could catch any number of illnesses staying in a place like this. But I don’t see any new entries in the book.”

  “You know, you should get a name for your majestic,” Devol suggested and surprised the other two. “They are supposed to be an extension of us, right? Simply saying ‘majestic’ or ‘the book’ sounds so impersonal,”

  “Is now honestly the time to bring that up?” the other boy demanded and closed the tome. “You didn’t know yours had a name to begin with. It’s not like the Templars all have names for theirs either.”

  “Vaust’s is—”

  “Besides Vaust,” Jazai interrupted.

  “Wulfsun has one too,” the swordsman told him. “Arah’s Aegis—he told me before we left.”

  This seemed to impress his friend. “Truly? He never mentioned it,”

  “Freki’s is called Primal Song,” Asla commented. “He revealed that to you during the sparring.”

  “What about Zier?” Devol asked. “I haven’t seen his majestic but he has one too, right? I remember him telli
ng me during my initiation.”

  Jazai released his book and let it blink into his pack as he stared silently at him. “He’s never mentioned it.”

  “You’ve never asked, right?” Asla prodded and a small, knowing smile grew on her face.

  “Do you want to search for that voice or not?” he muttered and strode forward. “Let’s go, but if it takes too long, we should head for the cave.”

  The other boy dropped the subject for now as he and Asla followed their teammate. They took a few minutes to move through the streets and check various buildings for any occupants. The diviner was always sure to look constantly in the direction of the caves so they would not get lost and Asla attempted to seek the owner of the voice using her heightened senses of hearing and smell but to no avail.

  When they had no success, they agreed to search for a little longer but by now, everything was silent. They had not even heard a second wail since the first one.

  Devol was about to call it off but something caught his eye. “Hey, guys,” he called and pointed to a bright light at the far end of an alley ahead of them. “Look at this.”

  The trio moved carefully through the alley and closer to the light. Once they reached the other side, they stepped into a small clearing that would have made a good garden or perhaps a patio for a restaurant at one point. The light emitted from a lantern hung on a long pole.

  The swordsman looked around warily. A bedroll was spread on the ground and a few bags were strewn about. What appeared to be a jacket or coat hung on a string tied between the pole a small tree several feet away.

  “Is this a camp?” Asla asked a little disbelievingly.

  “Indeed it is,” a man replied. All three spun as one. Devol grasped the handle of his sword as Jazai pointed his ringed hand toward the sound of the voice and Asla crouched in readiness.

  A tall, slightly portly man with disheveled brown hair flecked with white and a goatee entered the clearing through the fog. He wore white slacks, shoes, and a gray vest and held a hand up to greet them. “I’m sorry to startle you. I couldn’t even see you through all this fog.”

  The young swordsman eased his grasp on his weapon slightly. The man’s voice and smiling face made him believe he was at least not outright vicious. But given the area, he would have to know a little more than that to relax completely. “We’re sorry for intruding. Is this your camp?”

  “Yes—well, for the time being,” the stranger answered and stopped only a few yards away from them. He placed his hand on his chest and bowed. “My name is Merri Giovannini and I’m a traveling healer.”

  “A traveling healer?” Jazai asked and relaxed somewhat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Traveling,” Merri said and chuckled good-naturedly at the joke. “Well, I was traveling through the kingdom. I was on my way after taking care of an older patient in Petoile about a week ago when I helped a magi who was in the area. He was delirious and running a high fever. It turned out he had been poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” Devol asked. “Bandits?”

  “I haven’t come across any,” the man replied. “He said it was another magi but not one he knew and that they were probably someone trying to remove him from the competition for the Oblivion Trials.”

  “You know about the trials?” The swordsman’s question contained real surprise, although he couldn’t think why.

  “Indeed. You learn much by wandering around as long as I have. Plus I like to make conversation while I work.” He walked to one of his bags, opened it, and pulled a large pot out. “After I treated him, he brought me here and told me about the caves where the trials will take place. When he left to return to his village, I decided to stay here for a while and perhaps help any others who might fall victim to…uh, overzealous competitiveness.”

  He retrieved a few pieces of metal and began to set a tripod up to hang the pot on, then turned to Devol and pointed behind him. “Do you mind bringing some of that wood behind you for me?”

  The boy noticed several small bushels of wood and he finally let his hand drop away from his sword as he went to gather some for the man, who took out a large canteen. “Why set up a camp? I’m sure one of these buildings would make a good temporary lodging.”

  Merri laughed. “True, but they are also infested with all manner of critters and insects, not to mention the general rot and decay. I wouldn’t be of any help to anyone if I became sick. While this isn’t the best place to be, I’ve made do quite nicely, I think.”

  Devol brought the wood and set it under the tripod as the man tied the pot to it and poured out the contents of the canteen. It appeared to be broth of some kind at first glance. That done, he placed the canteen beside him and scratched his head as he stood. “Now, where did I put that flint?”

  Jazai sighed and walked forward, bent down, and pointed a finger at the wood. “Immolate,” he incanted and summoned a small flame to ignite the campfire.

  “Oh, thank you kindly,” Merri said gratefully. “Are you a conjurer?”

  “A diviner, technically,” the boy stated as he straightened and dusted his hands off. “But I’ve studied all the schools of magic.”

  “My, you must be quite gifted,” the healer said with another jolly laugh. “I’m a transmuter myself and focus on light magic.”

  “Light magic?” Jazai gaped at him. “That usually doesn’t work all that well with transmutation.”

  “It can be tricky,” the man admitted with a sigh and he seemed to briefly be lost in memories of long ago. “Most of my colleagues focused on nature magic or using pure mana for their healing abilities. But I discovered that being able to transmute with light magic allowed me to heal others in ways that the normal methods could not accomplish. I learned to use light magic to repair damaged nerves, replace skin, and even replace blood by passing the magic of light through it and then transmuting it into whatever was needed. Many of my patients claimed they felt better than they ever had before.”

  “That sounds incredible!” Devol remarked, now not only at ease but astonished at what the man had revealed. “You should be demonstrating this at universities or working in Monleans. Why are you a traveler?”

  Merri retrieved a cutting board and some vegetables from another sack and began to slice them with a small knife he took from a sheath at his waist. “Like your friend said, transmutation and light magic are not the most comfortable of bedfellows. I’m a somewhat unique case because I threw all my life into developing it. And even then, I have not been able to pass on my teachings to many others. It requires a certain knack for the magic to work that most seem to lack.” He raised his thumb and middle finger, snapped them together, and produced a very small flame that almost immediately blew out. “Doing something like your friend did there is beyond me. Most magi can produce a flame strong enough to light a candle. I can barely manage that. Maybe I was wrong to say you need a ‘knack’ for it. Perhaps merely an obsession will do.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Asla began and knelt beside him. “But we wandered into your camp looking for someone. We heard a wailing not too long ago and were trying to see if anyone was around.”

  The healer nodded and sliced into a carrot as his smile faltered and shifted into a frown of concern. “I heard it as well and went looking on my own. But I had no luck either. I only heard it a couple of times, then nothing more than silence until I ran into you. I thought it was simply the dread of the town that had begun to wear on me.”

  “I was going to suggest that,” Jazai admitted. “But I guess we can’t all imagine the same thing.”

  “I hope they wander by. If they are ill, I can treat them, and I decided to make a meal and offer them some if they did exist,” Merri stated and looked at the three friends. “I’d be happy for you to join me. I’ve run into some other magi over the last few days but they seemed more concerned with getting into the caves than a conversation. It would be a pleasure to share some of my stew with you.”

  Devol looked at the others,
who both still seemed bewildered by the situation. He shrugged and nodded. “The trials don’t begin until tomorrow. It would be nice to get one last good meal in before we started.”

  “Splendid!” The man nodded enthusiastically as he added the vegetables to the pot. “I can also give you an examination before you go as well if you like to make sure you have no sicknesses coming on before the big event.”

  “I think we’re good,” Jazai said and answered for his teammates. He looked at the dark clouds above. “Will it be all right to stay out here? It looks like rain is coming in.”

  “Oh, it’ll be fine. The clouds seem to threaten that every day but we haven’t had a drop,” Merri told them and turned toward another of his bags. “But it is good to keep that in mind. After all, you never want to be caught in a storm—one of the most basic tips for health.” He took out a sack of wrapped meat and hid a small vial under it. “It’s the quickest way to catch the death of cold.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You were able to restore her sight?” Devol asked in bewilderment. “That’s incredible.”

  “It was a miracle, even compared to the things I’ve seen,” Merri admitted as he stirred the pot of stew. “It was probably the longest procedure I had ever attempted.”

  “A miracle indeed,” Jazai muttered. “Your ability is exceptional.”

  The man laughed and rested a hand on his bouncing belly. “Thank you. It’s always a good day when I get a compliment from another dedicated to the mana arts. But to be honest, there have been situations where I could have done better.” He sighed as he picked a small spoon up, scooped a little of the stew, and tasted it. “Those will be the ones I always linger on.”

  The swordsman nodded. “We all have those times. It’s important to remember to use them to move forward and strengthen yourself.”

  Merri responded with a warm smile. “Of course. Those are wise words coming from someone of your age.”