A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (20 page)

Basilard handed Mia the fee he received and she sorted the
coins. “Anything eventful happen?”

“No, just another day with laundry,” Basilard said with a
shake of his head.
How would he know? He was asleep the whole time
. . .
“Is there another job for us?”

Mia hummed a catchy tune as she selected a window and
scrolled. “Nope,” she chirped. “All active requests have been accepted by other
teams.”

“Good,” Basilard said. “Novices, to the training hall.”

“Won't Aaloon want a report?” Nolien asked.

Basilard waved in dismissal. “He can wait for this one.
Let's go.”

Eric didn't think he could train all of them; a battle mage,
a healer, and a swordgirl, but Basilard was a master of all three arts; just
like everyone else in Squad Five. The Senior told them to wait at the Training
Hall while he made a stop at the Squad Two Lounge.

The Training Hall was the lowest level of the guild and the
only accessible by a twisting flight of stairs. Eric suspected the designer to
be a sadist. Wooden training dummies and weights stacked by degree lay at the
borders. Archery targets and big sacks of sand hung from the ceiling. Runes
were carved wherever one looked. The Training Hall gave mages and warriors a
safe place to practice new abilities. If something went wrong, no one else
would get hurt.

Basilard returned with a wooden box. On the front were
latches with runes carved into them. He put it on the ground and said, “Nolien,
inside this cooler is a dead bird. Your task is to find out why he died and propose
a spell that could have saved him. When you're done, we'll practice minor
healing.”

Nolien nodded and picked up the box. However, he showed his
reluctance in the way he dragged his feet and heaved it to a corner. Eric knew
he wanted to work on living subjects-do real healing-but Basilard insisted he
practice on dead things. Nolien chaffed at the restraints.

Next, their mentor pointed to a training dummy. It was
similar in shape and material to the others, but specialized with runes. They
made three circles surrounding Tiza's name.

“Tiza, this training dummy is a special order just for you;
you and your limitless energy. The longer you fight it, the harder and faster
it's going to hit. If you feel it's too much, just step back and it'll shut
down.” Tiza's eyes brightened and Eric sighed. Tiza the Adrenaline Junkie, as
he and Nolien called her, would love to fight a dummy that could fight back. “When
you're done warming up, we'll spar.” Tiza nodded eagerly. Basilard turned to
Eric and waved him toward the targets at the back of the room.

“All right, Eric, today you will learn elemental magecraft.”

“We've been busy, haven't we, Daylra?”

“Yeah, jousts are good for business.”

Eric read all about them at the library. They used to be
solely for the nobility's sport and training, but over time, the rules were
changed so anyone could participate. More joined and thus more were training.
They were so focused on the prize that they didn't notice others making money
off their efforts. While a jouster could win such grand prizes as fair lady's
hand, tracts of land, or cold hard cash, a jouster's assistant was
guaranteed
payment regardless if their jouster won or lost.

It was also a good opportunity for horses to show off, or
for blacksmiths and artists to show their wares. All these people worked on
their craft and didn't have time for things like their laundry. The more Eric
read, the more it reminded him of competitions back on Threa; businesses
sponsored athletes in exchange for endorsements.

Basilard glanced over at Tiza, who was already having a
blast fighting the training dummy. Her stance was firm and she struck with
precision. “Jousts are also the biggest gathering of eligible bachelors all
year,” he said over the sound of steel hitting wood. “A great opportunity for
girls to get a husband.”

Tiza's stance changed and she started hacking. It responded
in kind and hit faster, making her speed up and it responded until Tiza had to
jump away to catch her breath.

“Anyway.” Basilard fidgeted once. “Let's start your lesson.”

“You don't just picture fire or water.” Basilard held out
his hands, palm up, and mana bolts appeared. “Create the bolt, then imagine it
changing into the element you wish.” The one in his right turned red and gave
off heat until it burst into full flame. The one in his left became even bluer
and swirled and suddenly it was water. “It's a two-step process.”

Eric closed his eyes and looked within himself. Gently
drawing mana out, he let it flow through his arms, into his staff, and
concentrate at the end.

“Crimson fire, grant my desire! Fireball!” A spark appeared
at the head of the staff, but snuffed out immediately. Eric felt a weight in
his heart.
Abyss take it! Why does this always happen!?
He
turned
towards his teacher and saw him with a hand to his chin. Basilard told him to
try the water spell.

Eric shrugged off the dark feeling. “Infinite sea, grant
your power to me! Waterball!” A sphere of mist gathered. He focused harder and
chanted the spell a second time. The mist grew thicker and eventually condensed
into water. He fired it and knocked the target over.

“Eric, have you ever tried the fire spell without your
staff?”

“Nolien said lesser mages couldn't do magic without them.”

“It's not impossible; only harder because lesser mages
require the boost the staff provides.” Basilard chuckled. “Apparently it's the
opposite for you.”

Eric felt like his insides were shriveling up. “What's wrong
with me?”

“Nothing,” Basilard said warmly. “The problem is with the
staff. It must have been made from a tree that was suffering drought; it won't
allow fire spells because of its fear. Try again.”

Eric reslung his staff and recited the fire spell once more.
A spark appeared in his cupped palms.

 “Fan it with your mind,” Basilard said. “It's like blowing
a balloon.”

Introduction to Magecraft
was more poetic: “
Imagine
the air going directly into the spark; expanding it; transforming it into true
fire.”
He felt something blaze into life. Floating in his hands was a small
ball of fire. The weight in his heart vanished; melted by the fire he could
suddenly create at will. He smiled at the little flame.

“It goes without saying that you have to be careful with
this kind of magic.”

Don't play with fire . . .
Eric's smile turned into a
smirk
. . . I'm not playing, I'm training
. With that thought, he threw
the fireball at another target and it burst into flames.

“It was, after all, The Trickster himself that taught
sapients the original fire magic. 'Grant my desire'; all the desires of
pre-historic humans could be fulfilled with fire. It banished the darkness,
warded off monsters, cooked meat, defeated enemies.”

Eric spawned a second one. The fire didn't burn him, but the
thought of someone throwing it at him was a scary one. “He wanted to see what
would happen.”

“More or less. He's the type that will give you a disease
and its cure at the same time.”

Eric cast a second spell in his free hand. Like his mentor
before him, he held both fire and water. “Why are you telling me all this,
Daylra?”

“The Trickster has taken an interest in you. I thought you'd
like to know something about him.”

The muttering of “Laughing Medicine” drew their attention to
Nolien. He was examining a light construct of the bird's body and moving parts
as if it were a smart phone. Basilard assigned Eric twenty repetitions of each
spell and checked on the healer. Eric wasn't a med student in college, so he
didn't understand the solution. Then he heard a shout and saw Tiza had been
disarmed by the dummy and she was shouting foul words at it. Eric knew many
from his big brother, but the variety of Tiza's rant impressed him nonetheless.

By the time, the sun traveled to the west Eric could make a
sizable ball of water or fire given a minute to concentrate, Nolien could fix
moderate injuries in the same time span, and Tiza could fight the dummy for
half an hour before it disabled or disarmed her. On their own, they lasted
about five seconds before Basilard “killed” them. As a team, they could last
fifteen seconds.

Basilard sheathed his sword. “We have a lot of work to do,
team. I expect you all back here after dinner for unity drills. Dismissed.”

Tiza returned to her personal dummy. She ignored both of
them when she could. Nolien shouted for a chess opponent and Culmus answered.
The two had some prior history and Nolien spent most of their free time
together. Neither would explain that history despite Eric's persistence. Eric
himself went home. School was long since over and his friends were divided
amongst their own homes so he had nothing else to do. He opened the door out of
the room and bumped into someone.

Aio pulled him up. “Hey, Roomy!”

“Oh, hey, Aio. I haven't seen you in a while.”

Aio shrugged. “Oh, you know how it is. Joust, busy with
missions, that sort of thing.”

“Do you wanna play--”

“Listen carefully, Roomy. I have  information you might want
to hear.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. One of Basilard's general lessons
was never to turn down free information, especially from fellow guild members. “I'm
listening.”

“If I were to be at the Joust, particularly close to the
royal box, I'd keep an eye on the princess.”

“Sure . . .how come?”

Aio was already backing away. “I've said too much already,
Roomy, really I have. Gotta go!”

The albino dashed up the stairs with Eric in pursuit. He
slipped into a room and slammed the door shut behind him. Eric reached for the
knob, when it turned on its own. The person who walked out did not smile with
the harmless mischief of Aio, but the maniacal glee of a certain captain.

“Otherworlder, how
nice
of you to drop by,” Hasina
said. Eric avoided eye contact and backed away, slowly. “I'm supposed to be
answering a house call, but . . .” She advanced with a predator's caution. “I
can spare a minute if you want to talk.“

“Oh n-n-no . . .th-thaat's all right, C-captain. I w-wouldn't
want to k-keep you . . .“

Hasina pinned him to the wall and loomed over him. “I
insist.
”
Her eyes lit up in excitement and her staff responded.
I'm gonna die a lab
rat!

“Captain!” Hasina groaned and Eric sighed. “What are you
doing here!?”

Hasina spun around and with an air of innocence. “Oh . . .Lieutenant
. . .I was just . . .ah . . .” Eric  edged away from the mad healer. “ . . .giving
the Otherworlder chiropractic therapy.” Her arm shot out and snared the
escaping Eric. “Isn't that right, Otherworlder?” Eric didn't want to agree, but
was too scared to contradict his tormentor, so he said nothing. The grip on his
arm tightened painfully.

“Captain, let go. You're hurting him. Besides, you have a
job to do.” Hasina reluctantly released her prey and Eric rubbed his arm to
restore circulation.

“Next time,” she said under her breath.

“What was that, Captain?” Jemas asked.

“Text rhyme!” Hasina said. “Text rhyme, text rhyme, riddle
riddle rhyme!” Jemas rubbed his forehead. Eric had seen that same posture countless
times on Esoil; he felt sorry for them both.

The odd couple left and Eric sighed once more; he escaped
the examining table. When he finally opened the door, he found nothing.
Well,
if he's that determined to avoid me.
He had other friends to—the thought
stopped him cold and he smiled.
I have other friends . . .

The next day, the Joust began and the city was alive with
activity. Given the nature of the city, it could have been metaphorical,
literal or both. Eric was too tired to care.

 The mage hadn't slept well because of all the pounding,
scraping, and thumping on the bridge above his house. He tossed and turned for
hours before sleep came. When he awoke, his alarm clock declared, “You're late!”
In a panic, he jumped out of bed and tripped over all the junk on the floor. On
reflex, he rolled with the fall, got to his feet, and ran out.

He was the last one to arrive. Even Tiza beat him, but she
looked even more dead on her feet than he did. It wasn't the first time he was
glad his roof was a bridge and not a forge. Mia handed her a cup of coffee. She
blushed and awkwardly accepted it.

“An unusual amount of the castle's regular guard is competing
in this year's tournament so they're a little short handed.” She reached above
her head and pulled the mission bill out of thin air. This no longer surprised
Eric, but where she pulled it from did. Two days earlier, she pulled it out of
her own mouth, and before that, his belly. “They want someone to fill in the
gaps.”

“Then why are they hiring us?” Basilard asked. “
I'm
better than ten of their soldiers, of course-”

“Of course.” Mia agreed.

“But my team is made of new novices,” Basilard continued. “Hiring
them is like shouting they're short handed.”

“Yes, that's what I told them, but they insisted,” Mia said.
She put a finger to her chin and tilted her head slightly. “I think they don't
expect any trouble and a novice team is cheaper.”

“Cannon fodder. They want us to buy them time if something
does
happen.”

Mia nodded and her ponytails bopped.
I don't wanna be cannon
fodder!
“But the messenger said Kasile was the one to suggest your team, so
who knows?” She shrugged. Eric blushed as he remembered the beautiful princess.
Suddenly, being cannon fodder didn't seem so bad.

Basilard turned to his students. “What do you think, team?
Do you want to go to the Joust and stand around all day?” Nolien and Tiza
looked uncertain, but Eric saw no reason to hesitate.