Author: bftowe

One by one the young sorcerers descended the amphitheater steps and took a levitating amulet. Jethro, Bo, and Dean tarried in their seats. Mayard motioned for the threesome to approach. They were the last three to accept the prizes.

The wandering Sorcerer Mayard Klarje addressed Jethro, “Jethro, do you have a problem with the red mark on my face?”

Jethro stammered, “Uh…no, Sorcerer Mayard. Why would anyone have a problem with the greatest sorcerer in the history of Magick! Is it true you have the power to turn people into toads?”

Mayard said, “It’s been known to happen, but only if they really deserved it. Why do you tease Rhiann?”

Jethro dejectedly said, “I’ll start learning to croak so I can be a better toad than sorcerer.”

Mayard fought back laughter and struggled to keep a straight face and followed, “That may not be necessary, Jethro. Touch the red mark of my face.”

Jethro stammered, “Uh… why, Teacher?”

Mayard calmly replied, “Touch it. It won’t hurt you.”

Jethro gingerly extended his right index finger and touched the red mark. He youth sighed with relief when nothing happened.

Mayard continued, “Now touch Rhiann’s mark.”

Jethro hesitated briefly and then did so.

Mayard followed, “Now touch your face.”

Once again young Jethro did as the sorcerer asked.

Mayard asked, “What did you feel when you touched our faces?”

Jethro answered. “Just skin, teacher.”

Mayard answered, “Did you feel any difference in the red skin on Rhiann’s and my face?”

Jethro replied, “No, Teacher, it just felt like skin.”

Mayard Klarje said, “Jethro. If someone looks different, it doesn’t mean they are less important and lack feelings. Magick is not to be used frivolously, young sorcerers. Think about the consequences of your actions. Always let your hearts guide your deeds.”

Mayard said, “There’s a few more of you than I expected. Not to fear. It’s nothing a Rock to Mud, Enlarge, and Stone Shape Spell won’t remedy. Mayard said then, “I’ll be right back.” The old sorcerer briefly exited and returned with an irregular rock from the courtyard. He used a small piece of clay and a bit of water, uttered a gruff conjuration, and softened the rock. He then took a pinch of powdered iron, uttered another incantation, and cast an Enlarge Spell, He followed with a Stone Shape Spell and formed seventy-five small objects, the exact number of students watching the class. Mayard took a piece of string from his rucksack and replicated it. He made odd motions with his hands, uttered more odd phrases, and moved his hands over the little pieces of clay. The old sorcerer then said a single word, “red.” Now seventy-five little red objects rested in front of him. Mayard said, “Join.” The strings combined with the little red objects. Mayard said “rise” and seventy-five amulets slowly rose from the stone floor and levitated about three feet above the floor. Mayard said, “A memento of my visit! There should be one for each of you. Rhiann, take one please.”

Rhiann stood and approached his uncle. Mayard said, “Don’t be shy. It won’t hurt you. In fact, it’s an amulet of protection. It’ll serve you as long as you stay true to Magick and use it thoughtfully. Look closely, Rhiann.”

Rhiann took and held the near weightless object. The little cherry-red, heart-shaped stone was precisely the size, shape, and color of the birthmarks on Rhiann and Mayard’s chins. Mayard’s tale asserted the mark graced the chin of the first sorcerer of Sagain Cydney Klarje.

Mayard said again, “One for everyone. Tomorrow I’ll tell you of Cydney Klarje’s first spells.”

Mayard pursued and subdued highwaymen Big Boy and Tiny and brought them to Gnome-town to the waiting and grateful hands of Burgomaster Altus Stillwater Darktop. Altus had nineteen given names to go with his family name Stillwater. Gnomes added monikers relating to their accomplishments and adventures. His unusually dark hair had earned him the moniker Darktop. Burgomaster Stillwater now added “Big Boy” as his twentieth given name. The grateful burgomaster had granted Mayard a room in his manor. Mayard had mixed feelings about the reward. The comfortable bedding, brew master’s wonderful ale, and wonderful feast prepared by the burgomaster’s spouse Enid were offset by relentless pestering by the burgomaster’s incorrigible son Norman. If the Gnome-kin didn’t get his way, he pitched a veritable fit. His father Altus Twenty-names Big Boy Stillwater termed the outbursts “Norman storms.” Mayard Klarje dubbed the little Gnome Storming Norman and the moniker stuck. The little bloke shared his father’s dark hair. Storming Norman Darktop now had three names.

Burgomaster Storming Norman Twenty-four names Darktop judged, “The Klarjes are either gone or were never here. Whatever the case we are fresh out of sorcerers. We will have to get Longbeard and Dibbit to Thynna to have the spells removed from them. Promotions are in order. Donovan, you are now Donovan twelve-names, with wagon-driver and dragon-wrestler now added. Longbeard is Longbeard twenty-names with ‘stone-face’ as his new moniker.”

Dry Creek, reinforced by a thousand Gnome soldiers, remained on high alert.

 

*****

 

The Man in Black felt a pinch to his left leg and jumped up in alarm. He was lying in the dirt in the woods in front of the porch of his hidden cabin in the woods. A young Copper Dragon had a firm grip on his left leg. The highwayman took a deep breath and readied for the worst when the small dragon released his leg and abruptly flew away. Two griffons and another dragon were depositing the still sleeping Red-headed Stranger, Waymore, and Straight Arrow on the ground nearby. These beasts also simply snorted and flew away. The last thing the highwaymen’s leader remembered was melodious sound filling the air. The Man in Black went to his colleagues and awakened them with difficulty. He used Storming Norman’s technique of repeated face slaps. The Fearsome Foursome suffered headaches and disorientation, but the quartet managed to make their way into the cabin. The man in Black collapsed in his chair and rubbed his sore leg. Straight Arrow peered out the window. None of their underling rogues had returned. and notably Jack Taylor was no longer tied to the tree. Straight Arrow gripped his rapier and watched intently. However, the winged beasts did not return. The Kobolds and Bailiwick were nowhere to be seen.

The Man in Black unleashed a chain of expletives and growled, “Cursed Old Ones! Cost me my chance to even things with that ****** Mayard Klarje!

Burgomaster Storming Norman Twenty-four names Darktop stamped the ground in Dry Creek’s quadrangle. His large force was strategically deployed and ready for an attack. His legion used their digging abilities and constructed redoubts composed of semicircles of raised dirt thirty paces in front of the east and western gates of Dry Creek. Reinforcements swarmed over wall walk and guard towers. Scouting parties had risked entering the woods to look for Kobolds and found little sign that their adversaries had been here. Nonetheless ambush parties were set up in the woods. The folk of Dry Creek busily repaired the damages fraught by the Kobolds’ earlier attack. The Burgomaster and Madam Darktop finished preparations as afternoon headed into night. Several hours passed uneventfully. Then at dusk a watcher in the tower shouted, “Winged creatures approach! Dragons!”

Storming Norman Twenty-four names charged up the wall stairs and shouted, “Not to worry! Hold your fire! It’s only a gaggle of Copper Dragons! Get some copper ore ready!”

The guard in the tower shouted, “One is much bigger! They bear burdens!”

Storming Norman shouted, “Wait! That’s not a dragon! It’s a Manticore! It carries…my stars! Longbeard Nineteen-names!

The sentry yelled, “They are getting closer! They all carry Gnomes, and the Gnomes are not moving! Shall I fire?”

Norman hesitated. Then five dragons and the Manticore landed about fifty paces from the palisade, unloaded their motionless cargo, and flew upward. A sixth dragon landed, and the Gnome it carried began shouting, stood, and whacked the dragon up the side of its head with his hammer. The dragon staggered backward, shook its head in bewilderment, and then swung its tail mightily and knocked the Gnome down. The Gnome jumped up and grabbed the dragon’s tail.

Storming Norman shouted, “That’s Donovan Eleven-names! I’m adding dragon-buster to his titles! Those in the eastern redoubt! Go help him!”

The young copper dragon shook free. The Manticore and five other dragons circled overhead. Gnomes in the hastily constructed fortification rushed toward the dragon and Donovan. The Manticore growled a command to the young dragon on the ground that was engaging the Gnome, but the beast ignored him. The Gnome Donovan was holding his own and easily dodged the young inexperienced dragon’s attempts to bite. Donovan Eleven-names expertly delivered three blows in succession with his hammer. The dragon recoiled and puffed out its chest. Norman’s troops neared the fray. From the allure Norman shouted, “It’s going to breathe!” Before the copper dragon exhaled, Donovan walloped it up the side of the head and redirected its gooey spittle to the ground near him. The acidic breath weapon merely befouled some grass and dissolved the tip of Donovan’s boot. The dragon thought better of further action and flew away toward the Copper Mountains to the west. The Manticore and other five copper dragons flew northwest and away from Dry Creek and toward Jack’s Refuge.

Donovan Eleven-names shouted, “You’ve ruined my boot! Come back and fight, you shameless wyrm!”

Rhiann asked, “What of the sorcerer?”

Venla Faxxine replied, “Let sleeping sorcerers lie. I didn’t want to wake him up.”

Rhiann said, “You likely saved the lot of us. I was hard pressed to counteract Bailiwick’s spells, and we were so outnumbered.”

Venla sighed, “Yes, and in so doing, we violated unwritten rules of neutrality. I… we have new enemies.”

Iyaca asked, “What happened to the Kobolds?”

Maranna curiously asked, “What does that concern you? They were going to kill you.”

Iyaca shrugged.

The Manticore continued, “They were too many. We left them sleeping in the woods and on the field. The dragons may have eaten a few once Maranna’s charming song wore off. Gnomes… I carried. Kobolds… not so much. They’ll wake up with only each other to fight.”

Maranna answered, “We saved Rhiann… and you, Iyaca. I didn’t want either the Kobolds or Gnomes to gain advantage because of my interference. So Venla and the others moved the Gnomes. After hearing Venla’s tale of the wagon-driver Donovan, I’m thinking we may have saved the thousand Kobolds. It’s hard to tell who’ll wake up first after hearing a siren’s lullaby.”

Serena twirled a strand of her green hair and smugly said, “Some never wake up.”

Maranna snipped, “Sister, that’s not usually our intent. Iyaca, eventually the Kobolds and Gnomes we separated on the field today are going to fight. No action on our part will change their enmity toward one another. If a predator stumbled upon the disabled sorcerer that stood with the kobolds and highwaymen, so be it.”

The Manticore Venla’s deep voice contrasted with the Siren’s melodic tone. The massive Old One always sounded impatient. Venla Faxxine said, “Well, after you and Serena left with Rhiann and Iyaca for Cragmore. I took charge in the woods near Dry Creek. Everything went smoothly for the most part. The six Copper Dragons remained under your Charming Song. I grabbed the Gnomish Captain Longbeard, who remained under the effect of the wizard’s Hold Spell and awake.”

Young Iyaca interrupted, “He wasn’t asleep! Why?”

Rhiann explained, “It’s Magick. The Hold Spell kept Longbeard from doing anything else, including fall asleep. The spell’s duration depends on the level, the power, of the sorcerer who cast it. So Longbeard saw and heard everything.”

Venla Faxxine gruffly cleared his throat and said, “If I might continue. Yes, he was truly ‘held.’ I grabbed this Longbeard bloke and ordered Copper Dragons to carry Gnomes to Dry Creek. One grabbed the archer Dibbit. An unlucky dragon grabbed the wagon driver.”

Iyaca blurted, “Donovan Eleven-names! The wizard placed a Hold Spell on him, too.”

The Manticore grunted, “The blighter faked being held. Suppose he wanted to surprise the attackers. But he did fall asleep. The young copper dragon pinched him a bit too hard and woke him up. He played ‘possum’ and pretended to be asleep whilst the dragon carried him. When the dragon landed, the Gnome shouted, ‘No beast is going to get away with carrying Donovan Eleven-names like a sack of feed.’ The Dragon initially just tried to get away, but the Gnome fought him on the field in front of the Dry Creek stockade, beaned the dragon with his hammer, and broke the effect of your Charming Song. Then they really had a go. The other five dragons didn’t know whether to **** or go blind. Your charm commanded them to carry the combatants to their respective lairs, but they saw a colleague embroiled in conflict with a tenacious Gnome. Bottom line was the power of your charm overpowered the dragons’ instincts and they stayed out of it and just watched. It was the meanest Gnome any of us had seen. To be honest I got caught up in watching the fight. Gnomes were charging out of the gate to help their comrade. After receiving three or four knocks to the head, the copper dragon beat a hasty retreat. The wagon-driver Gnome directed his friends to gather their sleepy colleagues and started dragging them inside the walls.

My nephew, Sagain has many great reassures and traditions, many of which predated the Dawn of Magick. Our Seven Wonders must be preserved, and if they cannot be preserved, they must not be forgotten. I’d have liked to share them with other worlds, other civilizations. I’ve dreamed of many. I challenge you to finish my work, to accomplish hat I could not. I have dreamed of a Source of Magick. Within this source there is a means to travel between worlds and times. I never found the source.

My nephew, seek the source of Magick.

Hold true to the spirit of Grayness at all times.

Guard well and preserve Sagain’s treasures. If you cannot save them, find a means to carry them away.

Try to be a voice of reason in Thynna, but don’t exhaust your energies in the city of Magick. Therein may have been my greatest mistake. Your mother Caye and father Kurth are good people, but they are too embroiled in the affairs of Thynna. Expect no help from them; in fact, they’ll resist your efforts. Likewise, the Three Sisters and most Old Ones mistrust Magick and resent everything that is Thynna. Like the two toughest kids on the playground, eventually Thynna and the Hanging Gardens are going to fight. The warring peoples of the north… I don’t know what direction they’ll follow. But you have a reliable resource in Maranna. She professes neutrality in most affairs of the world. Try not to get involved in the affairs of the north. Gnomes and Kobolds will always hate each other, and Dwarves will always do anything for a profit. I thank you for retrieving the treasure from the mines. The spirit of the sword is a true sister of Grayness. She has a role… I… don’t understand it. Burgomaster Storming Norman gifted me the odd ore. It had a connection to the Source of Magick. I started dreaming of the source when the ore came into my possession. In fact, the heartstone came to me after a dream. The sword will be a companion to you. I have left journals detailing my travels in the Veldt. I’ve looked in all the Seven Wonders for the Source of Magick. Time is near… I’m sorry to burden you with my unfulfilled task. My body is dying, but my love for you lives on, and my love of Magick and Sagain lives on in you.

 

Most fondly,

Your Uncle Mayard

MK

 

Ǿ ∞ Ǿ

The glowing runes persisted for thirteen heartbeats and faded.

Rhiann wiped away a tear and began to read…

 

Rhiann,

 

It’s important to preserve rarities, Rhiann. Once we lose plants or animals to extinction, we cannot get them back. After the Dawn of Magick, little dragon-like beasts called shypokes flourished. Unfortunately, they were rather defenseless and easy to catch. Compound this by the facts that they tasted good and their bones and eggshells were valued as spell material components, the little blighters were driven to extinction. Sagain lost many species as a result of the cataclysm that awakened Magick. However, we gained others. Greedy and short-sighted folks have led to our losing many again. Plants, trees, animals, and the defenseless need our protection.

Our world is changing. Nona, Mors, and Decima’s influence fades. The sorcerers and leaders of Thynna evermore abandon reason. Voices in the Council praise even the scoundrel Bailiwick and call for his return. This would be a baneful thing for Magick. I’m sure your travels with my Shapechanger friend Lennard acquainted you with the conflicts and intolerances of the north. I regretted sending you, but I trusted no one else. If you are reading this letter, then Maranna found and brought you to safety and I’m certain has presented you my heirlooms. I leave our world with many worries. Sorcerers are tapping into unexplored realms of Magick. I’ve cautioned, but my words fell on deaf ears. Arcane forces take advantage of foolhardy spell casting, enter, and threaten our world from without, while Thynna’s arrogance threatens Sagain from within. The Three Sisters and their folk in the Hanging Gardens refuse to capitulate to Thynna’s demands. After you and Lennard left the Hanging Gardens, calls went out to all the wonders of the Veldt and other Old Ones sanctuaries. General Chiron now commands a great army. His centaur brethren organize the defenses of the Gardens. I had many sessions with Chiron and the Three Sisters, but I grew weaker. I use my last energies to compose this epistle.

Rhiann scratched his head and said, “Déjà vu… all over again. I feel like I should have known that already. But the sword, Exeter, told me to get back to The Hanging Gardens to see him again. She said he was sick.”

Maranna answered, “The spirit of the blade gave you the best and most honest answer she could. She knew only of his infirmity, not the extent of it.”

Rhiann said, “He told me about the battle with the bewildebeest but never talked about a serious wound. I know he was wounded by an amazon’s arrow. He told me to give it to the Burgomaster of Gnome-town.”

Maranna said, “The Amazon’s arrow hurt only his backside and pride. The bewildebeest was about to kill or maim Nona. Mayard saved her, but the animal hit him across the scalp and partially tore his life strand, the gift from the Spinner. Once that happened, Mayard’s days were numbered. He has left his possessions and legacy to you. He told me to give these to you.”

Maranna opened the old tattered bag and removed rune covered journals and spell books. The bag contained untold quantity of spell components and artifacts from around Sagain. Maranna said, “Your Uncle Mayard has entrusted Magick’s safekeeping to you, Rhiann Klarje. This is difficult… this epistle… Nona gave it to me. It bears his seal. I am to give it to you.”

The Siren tucked her wings behind her, tried to control her bushy tail, and placed her soft hand on Rhiann’s shoulder. She rethought kissing him for she feared her kiss’s effect, given his youth. She gave Rhiann a rolled parchment, which was sealed with hardened wax. Mayard’s seal was imprinted in the wax. Maranna stepped back. Iyaca Vassi returned to the chamber and stood by Maranna. The Siren wrapped her right wing around the youth. Iyaca’s knees buckled, but he caught himself before falling. Rhiann broke the seal. Three runes formed in the air between Rhiann and Maranna.

 

Ǿ ∞ Ǿ

 

The glowing runes persisted for thirteen heartbeats and faded.

Rhiann wiped away a tear and began to read…