Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus) (5 page)

BOOK: Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus)
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Giving an air of superiority as he returned the man’s look with a smirk of his own, Palose replied, “True that an apprentice, who was an actual novice, would hardly have the aptitude to do so; but I am a trained battle mage and you know the rest of my history. As I am a little closer to the magic than most, wouldn’t you say that I have a little more insight than most apprentices? Master Atrouseon believes that I do. Would you like me to go interrupt his important research for the emperor to come here to tell you as much? I am sure he would appreciate such an interruption so that he would have to waste his time to show me the most basic of tomes.

“Like you said, someone with such knowledge knows that there is a definition of basic within each study. As a wizard yourself, you know there are easier spells than others within each field. Now would you like to point me in the direction of my needs or should I go bring Master Atrouseon here?”

The old man paled slightly with the threats. Atrouseon was a big asset for Palose. The man was known for dealing with wastes to his time and other stupidity harshly. He was also much higher up in the hierarchy of Ensolus’ warlocks as he worked directly under the emperor himself as he worked to perfect the substitute body needed by their leader as his health continued to fail. Even knowledge of that made Palose more closely tied to the emperor than Geerloc.

Not appreciating being bullied by a mere apprentice, the wizard gritted his teeth a moment being stubborn. Fear of Atrouseon if he was wrong overcame any stubbornness as the old man acquiesced and said, “Third floor, the two northernmost set of shelves have what you are looking for. Necromancy has a fair amount of research, but only a few truly break down the spells for a walk through for an apprentice. Though I know that much, I can’t say that I can point you to the exact tomes to help.”

Waving a hand nonchalantly before him, Palose stated, “No worries, Atrouseon told me three that should work for now.”

Turning away from the desk, Palose started away confidently. He was glad when he could put the closest bookshelves between him and the wizard, however, as he let out a nervous breath. His bluff and subsequent posturing had been lies. Atrouseon had never specified a change in the curriculum given him a month ago, but the warlock had pretty much left most of his learning to the mage’s devising. Whether the man believed Palose competent to train himself or if he simply didn’t care what the unwanted apprentice did on his own time, had never been clarified, but that left him with the ability to learn what he felt that he needed as well.

  Before Palose could make it to the stairs, the mage felt other eyes following him. In fact, a trio of apprentices about his age had risen as he moved deeper into the library to shadow his movements. When he stopped, the three closed instead of giving him room however.

“Resurrection man,” a brown haired fellow with pointed ears said as he cut off the path towards the door. His two friends proceeded to hem him in from the opposite side cutting off any easy escape from between the two bookcases flanking him.

Starting with a smile in the hopes that such a look might disarm the men to avoid conflict, Palose tilted his head to the side and questioned, “I’m sorry, do I know you, apprentice?”

A frown followed in reply to his smile and the young man retorted, “I am Selvor and these are my friends Malfaes and Turless. We were wondering why a resurrection man would bother coming to the library. I mean aren’t you just a dead man? Does that dead brain of yours even have the ability to learn anything?”

“I doubt it,” the biggest man, a red head that outweighed the mage and had him by a few inches, added looking like he was more trouble than the first apprentice who was actually smaller in stature. Both had more powerful magic auras surrounding them than Palose, however, which meant physical size meant nothing in a world of wizards and warlocks.

“I am no puppet undead,” Palose stated still maintaining a slight smile of politeness. “My skin is still warm. I eat food and my heart beats like anyone. My master simply used a spell to revive me when a simple healer could not. It doesn’t make me brain dead.

“If that is your only question...”

The big red head and the other apprentice behind him, whose brown hair and features reminded him of the first young man save for the pointed ears, each placed a hand on a shoulder to prevent his moving away.

“His skin is warm at least,” the third apprentice said casually. He seemed least hostile and the words almost came off curious to Palose’s ears.

“I wonder if he stills bleeds red like a human or is he made of that black ichor like a
wraith?” Selvor questioned half curiously and half threateningly. “Perhaps we should stick him and find out.”

The smile had dropped from Palose’s lips, but he was calm as he reminded the three, “We’re in the library. I don’t think Geerloc and the other wizards would appreciate you getting blood on the floors or books.”

Tightening his grip significantly to the point of it hurting Palose a bit, the red head, Malfaes replied with a wicked smile to his friend, “You know he’s probably right, Selvor. Maybe we should take him outside. We wouldn’t want the old men to ban us from the library before we become full wizards.”

Selvor grinned with the same evil in his look. “You are so right, Malfaes. Let’s take him outside and continue this discussion.”

Allowing himself to be led and letting the two holding make him walk, Palose followed Selvor to the large doors. He noted a tight smile from Geerloc as he passed and several wizards either smiled or looked away feigning ignorance. In Southwall, wizards and even fellow mages might antagonize each other. Some played pranks and some even escalated to violence between each other, but there were rules and they were enforced preventing too much from ever getting out of hand. Palose had to remember that he was no longer in Southwall.

On the bright side, the mage was no longer the quiet young man who had suffered in silence when bad things happened. There had been apprentice wizards in his past that had liked to bully the cadet, but never to the point of blood shed. He had always taken the high road as much because the falcons would have disciplined him for fighting as the fear of the more powerful wizard apprentices. Until he had
seen Sebastian dismantle a wizard in a battle circle, Palose had always believed that wizards were naturally superior.

The thought of sentencing the man that was once considered a friend bothered him not for the first time. If he had lived, Sebastian might have brought a revolution of thinking to the battle mages of Southwall, though in retrospect if he planned to stay with Ensolus then perhaps shortening his influence was best.

Reaching the doors in a short time, Selvor pushed them open with his free hands for the others. Once outside, Palose heard the doors slip close behind them with a solid thump.

“So why does an apprentice wear a sword to the library?” Malfaes asked as he drew the standard issue weapon from the sheath. “Did you plan to open some letters?” the man laughed at his own joke, while Selvor glanced to the weapon in his friend’s hand and smiled confidently.

Selvor scanned the mage trying to decipher the answer to that same question.

“You know you boys really shouldn’t try tackling someone like me,” Palose stated casually. “Unlike you, I am not a true apprentice. I’d wager that none of you can fight let alone use a sword.”

Raising the sword beneath his neck, Malfaes threatened, “Pretty tough talk for a man with a blade on his neck. Hey, Selvor, did you still want to see whether he can bleed?”

Again the oaf chuckled and Palose matched stares with the smaller man before him. At the apprentice’s nod to the man with his sword, the battle mage decided to end this farce. “Stone skin, reflex,” he uttered the two spells lunging forward against the sword.

Catching the blade as he lowered his head to hold it to his neck, the mage twisted pulling his shoulders free of the surprised young men. In a blink, the sword was back in its sheath and Palose was standing two strides away from the three shocked apprentices.

Malfaes was the first to cry, “Are you crazy?”

Selvor followed up by moving his hands and starting the incantation for a fireball.

“Too slow,” Palose stated. “Spears,” he called an air spear to each hand. Another weapon from the mizard’s arsenal, the battle mage kept each to about four feet long and closed the gap between them.

The staves went behind the largest apprentice’s legs sweeping them out from under him. A simple bump to Selvor’s forearm threw off his spell causing the apprentice to have to restart from the beginning. He knew no other way to cast and Palose had intentionally pushed the arm just to emphasize the point.

Stepping back to his starting point, Palose had returned before Malfaes had finished his fall. With a loud breath escaping the red head’s lungs in a burst, the other two were left looking at the fallen man in stunned silence.

“Now as I said,” Palose began once more as if he was reciting the spell that Selvor had suddenly forgotten, “you three have no concept of how to fight. If you want to go up against me, I can give you all a head start to cast your weak spells and still avoid them to take you out.

“Whether I am a resurrection man, as you called me, or not, I am also a battle mage and we eat wizards like you for breakfast.”

Selvor wasn’t quite done and his hands pointed towards Palose once more as his spell came to a conclusion. Wanting to applaud the apprentice’s tenaciousness, as he had finished his casting even as the battle mage spoke; Palose instead used his speed to step to his left to come in on the caster’s right. The fire ball left Selvor’s hands directed to where the mage had been.

Touching the boy’s nearest sleeve, Palose cast another spell, “Stone skin.”

Willing the tunic to stiffen like stone, Selvor became trapped within his own clothes. Unable to cast, as Palose gave him a little shove, he simply toppled over onto Malfaes still trying to get his breath.

The last apprentice stood still as a statue as if the same spell had been used on him. Obviously a simple follower, Palose ignored him as he used his thumb to raise his sword in its scabbard a moment. Running the tip of his finger against the sharp blade, the man winced at the pain.

Looking at his red blood beginning to seep onto the tip of the digit, Palose almost felt relief lift from his chest. With all the talk of resurrection men, he almost wondered if he was still human as well.

He leaned over and pressed his finger to the forehead of the red head still trying to suck in a breath as he wheezed. His eyes widened in fear, but Palose simply left a bloody finger print in the center of his forehead. “Looks like normal blood to me,” the battle mage stated and walked past the single remaining wizard to reenter the library.

 

 

Chapter 3- Sylvaine

 

Sitting on the floor between the stacks, Palose was beginning to rue the brilliant idea of slicing his finger enough to draw blood. He took a scrap of cloth torn from a towel kept in his satchel and wrapped the offended digit hoping that the wound would seal naturally. With all the talk of resurrection men, the mage really had no idea if he was completely human any longer.

His blood looked normal enough and he had never felt any different, but still there was that kernel of doubt. What spell Atrouseon had used was unknown, but that was why he was sitting on the floor looking through dozens of books and scrolls of dark magic in the hopes of discovering what he was now. If he could find the spell and learn what had been done to him, perhaps then the mage could figure out where he truly stood among the men of Ensolus.

Trying not to get any blood on the books, Palose looked at the titles trying to decide where to start. As a battle mage, reading a wizard’s spell book was still a bit foreign to him even after a month of trying to do so since he had arrived in the city. Atrouseon had given him the slightest direction to his studies and seemed of the mind to let the young man figure it out for himself. Whether this had been his teaching style with his past apprentices was unknown to him, but even so Palose wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.

With autonomy and a free reign on his studies, the mage could delve into this black magic without fear of his teacher’s rebuke. In fact, as long as he stayed out of Atrouseon’s way and maintained his duties like keeping the apartment clean and helping in the laboratory, the warlock seemed content to ignore him. Though it would have been helpful to have a guide, Palose realized that in history there had to have been those who had been the first to discover the spells to write them down to help teach others after them.

Sebastian was one of those rare minds. He found his thoughts returning to the exceptional battle mage and his fellow student almost with a sense of loss. In a matter of a little over a month and as a cadet no less, the mizard had taught Palose at least half a dozen spells and other ways to use the original battle mage magic. His trick with the stone skin spell had been yet another translation of the original core spells conceived of by the man who had yet to see twenty years of life, but that guide to magic was gone. It was up to him to discover how to translate what he found in these books for himself now.

A set of light footsteps interrupted his thoughts as he looked through the first book that sounded promising. Wondering if it was the three apprentices returning for another attempt at him despite his thrashing of the boys, Palose looked up waiting to see who it could be. When a dark haired girl wearing a simple, gray, belted tunic suddenly stepped into view, she was the one who actually looked startled as the apprentice drew up short. Her violet eyes widened and dark pink lips parted with a gasp. The faint scent
of flowers wafted with the hem of her tunic that came to just below her knees. From his place on the floor, Palose noted slim ankles and calves before looking to see what kind of girl this truly was.

BOOK: Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus)
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