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Authors: J. M. Fosberg

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BOOK: Rising of a Mage
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“Anything interesting happen in the market?” Master Gibbins asked.

“Actually, sir, I learned that Master Gabriel is taking an apprentice.” “Really? He has not spoken to me of it. Are you quite sure?”

“Yes, sir. He is a farmer. I saw him talking with Master Gabriel and watched him make a blue flame dance in his palm. He is to arrive tomorrow.”

“It seems the young ones continue to know everything before we do, doesn’t it, Phil?”

“I hear you will be leaving the city for the night, Mariah.”

“Yes, sir. I was going to go for a hunt and begin my practice of campfire cooking, a skill I have no aptitude for yet, and I would see that when I leave this city one day my travels are not a torture of gut-wrenching meals. I shall return in the morn if this is still acceptable.”

“It is. Just be careful. I have no doubt in your abilities, but just keep to mind the woods are not a safe place.”

“Yes sir, thank you, sir.”

When she was gone Master Phillips looked at Guild Master Gibbins. “That one worries me. I fear she will find her death before it comes for her.”

That night Mariah went into the woods. She took a flint, her bow and quiver, her sword, a tin cup, and her cloak. She would find everything else in the woods or she would not eat. She stacked branches against a tree and covered it with pine bows for a shelter. With her shelter complete, she began her hunt. The sun was low in the sky when she saw her meal; a rabbit nearly fifty paces from her paused and looked around. Arrow already nocked, she drew the string to her cheek. The rabbit took its first bounce; she led an equal distance ahead of it and released. As the rabbit landed on its second bounce, the arrow took it and pinned it to the ground. She inspected her catch. The rabbit was still convulsing, which pulled at her heart. She took her sword out and ran it along the animal’s throat, ending its pain, and allowed the blood to drain. She inspected the arrow, which was undamaged; she pulled it out, wiped the arrow and her sword in the grass, dug a hole and buried the bloodied dirt. No need to attract any unfriendly predator. On her way back, she noticed some small wild onions. She picked a few and took them back to her camp. She started a small fire with her flint and then skinned the rabbit and placed it on a spit, burying the onions in a slit in its flesh. She filled her cup with some water from the stream then dropped a handful of pine needles in it and set it at the edge of the coals to boil. Pine needle tea is not the most tasty tea, but it adds some flavor and a small amount of nutrients. She had no seasonings, as she wanted this to be as much like a long journey meal as she could create. The onions added a little kick to the meat and, all in all, it wasn’t a bad meal. She rinsed her cup in the creek and burned what was left of the rabbit in the fire. The fur she kept; she couldn’t do much with the hide, but with a couple of them she could make warm clothing or a blanket, so she began to rub the fat and veins off the hide until it was cleaned, and then set it near the fire so the smoke would kill any bacteria and preserve it. When she looked up, her heart jumped nearly out of her chest as she locked eyes with a large wolf. She could not look away to locate her bow; she knew it was near her shelter and the wolf would close the distance faster then she could get to it. The wolf was standing not more than twenty paces from her. At her first movement to her sword, the beast was moving. Sword in hand, she oriented it toward the animal and, as it leaped for her throat, she lunged forward and went down on one knee. Her blade sank deep into the beast’s soft underbelly and the momentum of the animal pulled her back to the ground. As they went to the ground together, the wolf kicked its back legs, tearing a gash in her left arm. She was on her feet in an instant and drove her blade into the animal’s eye. It kicked a few more times, its body still fighting, not yet knowing it was dead. As she stood staring down at the wolf she had killed, she heard a low guttural growl and instantly it came to mind that wolves never travelled alone. She turned but too late, and she felt the weight of the beast as it hit her in the back. They went to the ground together but, as she rolled and try to get her weapon between them, she realized the beast was no longer moving and she stood, seeing that it lay on the ground dead. She turned and looked and there he was—the boy from the market.

“Anwar? . . . you—you saved me, thank you.”

“SHIT!” he said.

I shouldn’t have said his name, she thought, but maybe he didn’t notice. He looks very intense right now. What is he looking at?

“There’s another one,” he said.

She ran for her bow. As she nocked an arrow, she saw the wolf closing the distance with Anwar; he just stood there. He doesn’t look scared at all, she thought. She aimed but the angle was all wrong she could have just as easily hit him. Then a green light shot from his staff and took the wolf in the face. It dropped to the ground—dead. She looked from the animal to the man who had just saved her life. Their eyes met. Anwar looked into those sparkling brown eyes. She has beautiful eyes, he thought. It’s as if she’s looking into my soul. Then the world spun away from him, everything went blurry, and the last thought he had before he lost consciousness was: “How did she know my name?” Mariah was looking into the eyes of the rugged, but beautiful, boy and then he slowly dropped to the ground. His knees hit the ground and she ran to catch him but he was a good thirty paces from him and she watched as he collapsed on the ground. She got to him and he was breathing; he seemed fine, just as if he was just sleeping? She nocked an arrow and looked around. She saw no sign of any more wolves but that did not mean there were none. She saw movement and drew her bow. She could barely hold the string taut as she felt the pain from her shoulder flood into her and was relieved the movement was… a horse? The horse was not tied to anything; it was well trained and just stood there. It must be Anwar’s horse but what had he been doing here? She took the horse by the reins, brought it to Anwar and lifted him onto it. She didn’t know how she was able to, as he was so heavy and she nearly collapsed from the pain, but she got him onto the horse. She got on behind him, holding him in place, and rode to the city. She had to get him to the guild. Someone there could do something for him. They had to; he had saved her life. She rode hard, and every jolt of the horse was like a hammer to her torn shoulder until she saw the city gate. The last thing she saw was the guards at the gate and then her consciousness left here.

 

Chapter Three

Recovery

M
ariah awoke in a bed. She looked around and immediately established that she was back in the guild. She could feel the soreness in her shoulder, but she rotated it and the pain was gone. She smiled. I knew being a priest was a good idea, she thought. Then the memory of what had happened flooded back to her. She sat up and the sheet that was covering her fell away. She was nude. Now she was a little embarrassed. A priestess walked in. “Oh, great! You are awake. How do you feel?”

“Miss Amanda, where are my clothes?”

“Oh, of course! I will get you some. In the meantime, how are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. What about Anwar—is he here? Is he ok?”

“Yes, Anwar is down the hall. The headmasters are going to have some questions for you.”

Mariah thought about her answer. She had deflected her question as to his condition. “So it is serious?”

“We believe he will recover, but we will be able to help him better once you have answered a few questions.” She left and returned with a bundle of clothing. “Here, these should fit you. Put them on while I let the headmasters know you have recovered.” And then she was alone. Putting on the clothes she thought of Anwar. OH, beautiful Anwar, you must be ok. You cannot fall to harm because of me. And then she wondered why she had thought of him as ‘beautiful’ Anwar. He was beautiful but she would leave those thoughts for another time: she had a task before her. She finished dressing and, soon after, Miss Amanda stuck her head in the door.

“You are dressed? Good! The headmasters would like a word.” As Miss Amanda stepped into the room, opening the door for the others, she thought, Miss Amanda would never be considered beautiful. Master Gabriel and Master Gibbins walked into the room and stood at the end of the bed she was standing near. Master Gibbins spoke first. “Well, Mariah, how are you? It seems we have been seeing a lot of each other of late.”

“And you at least have been seeing a lot of me,” Master Gabriel said with a wink. Mariah was embarrassed. She felt the heat in her face and knew that it must be red. “Well, my dear, how are you?” Master Gabriel asked.

“I am fine. How is Anwar?”

“He will survive. Can you tell us what happened?”

Mariah realized that Master Gabriel would be doing all the talking. “Yes, sir.” She knew they didn’t want to hear the whole story, just the events that lead them here now, so she started with the attack of the first wolf, her fight with it, the death of the second wolf which she could not explain other then it was something Anwar had done, and then what had happened with the third and the green light that had killed it. She left out what had gone through her head when she looked into his eyes, of course. They needn’t know that. Then she told of putting him on the horse and how the last thing she remembered was the face of the guard at the gate.

They explained that she had passed out due to loss of blood. She was angry at herself for acting in such haste; she should have bandaged her wound before moving.

“Did you bring Anwar’s staff with you or did you leave it when you put him on the horse?”

Now she was confused. “No, sir. I hooked it into his saddle and over his legs to help me keep him in place. It was with us when I got to the gate.” “You did well, Mariah. You can rest now. Thank you.” Master Gibbins told her.

“Sir? I would like to see him if that’s ok?”

He looked at her and then he smiled. “That would be fine, but be aware that he is still unconscious. So, don’t expect too much yet.” After that the two Guild Masters left.

“You were right. She is very bright, and to have brought the staff! So we were right to have summoned the guard from the gate; he should be here shortly, if he is not already here,” Gabriel said.

“Yes, but how is it that he could have done what she is saying he has done.”

“I am not sure. I knew he was attuned to magic but this, with so little exposure, should have killed him instantly. We should know more when he wakes. These two are promising indeed. It will be interesting to see what becomes of each of them.”

“That is if they don’t get themselves killed first!” Gibbins replied. A student came running up to them. He nodded to each in turn and then faced Gabriel. “Sir, a city guard is here. He says he was summoned; he is waiting in your office.”

“Thank you Alex. You may go.” With that, she was running away from them.

Gabriel returned to his office alone; the missing staff was an issue for the wizards guild alone. When he entered his office the guard stood. “Good morning, sir. How may I be of service, sir?”

And now I know you did indeed take the staff, thought Gabriel. The man was very nervous and his guilt was practically written in his eyes. “The two youths that you found at the gate early this morning. They had a staff in their possession.”

“Oh… ah, yes sir, we did not know it belonged to you, sir. Ah… ah… we thought it was a simple walking staff, sir… ah ah… we left it there on the side of the road, sir.”

“Bring it to me—with all haste, mind you. It is very important to me.”

“Ah yes, sir. Ah, of course, sir.” And with that he was gone—no doubt to wherever he had stored the staff. Twenty minutes later, the guard returned with the staff.

Mariah sat in the room next to Anwar, who lay in a bed like the one she woken up in. Although he was not unclothed like she had been, he was wearing no shirt and she could see every chiselled muscle. His body was beautiful. He was, however, wearing pants, and she caught herself wishing he was unclad like she had been; she was curious to see him. she sat there for many minutes just admiring the tightness and bulge of his muscles. This was not the typical frail body of a mage who spent his days closed in with his studies; he could be a warrior. As she studied him, she noticed that his forehead was flatter and wider then was normal. You could miss it, if you weren’t looking for it, but it rounded his head late and the edges of his head bulged with tiny muscles. These were the traits of a giant, she thought. Probably many generations past, someone in his family had been taken by a giant.

“Anwar,” she whispered, “you are just full of surprises.” Then she put her mouth next to his ear, slid her hand into his and whispered, “Thank you, Anwar. You saved me.” Then she sat in the chair next to his bed, still holding his hand in hers, and drifted into sleep.

Mariah awoke to find Anwar’s family around his bed, specifically his mother, standing on the other side of his bed crying. She rose from her seat and moved out of the way as his mother bent over him and held him. At this point, both Master Gabriel and Master Gibbins walked into the room.

BOOK: Rising of a Mage
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