The Spell Realm (5 page)

“Yes. You probably know them as the Western Woods. You might have passed them on the way here. It’s not a good place to be.”

At that moment, the women came out of the tent, and Blaise decided against pursuing the subject further, in order to avoid scaring Maya and Esther.

Maya waved in their direction. “Hey Kostya,” she yelled. “Do you want us to cook? We can make something for you.”

Kostya’s face brightened at the prospect. “Yes,” he yelled back, and walked over to Maya to help her set up.

Leaving Maya and Esther to cook, Gala approached Blaise. When she was next to him, she sat down on the grass, hugging her knees, and looked up at the sky. Blaise sat down next to her, wanting her company.

For a moment they just sat there in silence, but then Blaise reached out and took Gala’s hand. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight, her hair like a silvery veil streaming down her back. With the main camp some distance away, it was as though they were alone, with just the starry sky above their heads.

Gala’s thoughts seemed to be along the same lines. “I remember reading in your books about the stars,” she said, her gaze locked on the sky. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yes,” Blaise said. “They are like our sun, only far away.”

“That’s what the books said.” Gala glanced at him. “How the stars are giant furnaces of unimaginable power, and how they are part of bigger arrangements called galaxies, which are part of an even bigger collection that is the universe.”

“I was never into astronomy,” Blaise admitted, “but you make it sound rather poetic.”

“Do you think the universe is infinite, the way Lenard the Great believed?”

“It’s hard to grasp something like that—the concept of true infinity,” Blaise said honestly, “but I can’t imagine an end to the universe, a true nothing.”

“I can,” Gala said, turning her attention back to the night sky. “‘Nothing’ is the best way I can describe how my mind felt in the Spell Realm, before I had that first glimpse of awareness.”

Blaise caught his breath. Sometimes he almost forgot that Gala had experienced unimaginable things. For a few moments, he tried to picture this nothingness, but then his thoughts turned back to their original discussion. “I would rather think that the universe out there is limitless,” he said. “It seems . . . more pleasant that way.”

“If it is limitless, then it would mean that, statistically, there are other worlds just like this one out there, even an infinite amount of them, with a Blaise and Gala like us,” she said thoughtfully. “Perhaps even with a Blaise and Gala who are having this conversation.”

That was an idea Blaise had never considered. His mind boggled at the thought. “In that case, I hope the universe is finite,” he said after pondering that radical concept for a minute. “I don’t like the idea of having other versions of me out there . . . because then there might be a version that had not made
you
.”

Gala smiled at him. “Well, as long as this version made me, I’m content,” she said softly. “Either way, even if the universe is finite, it’s probably unimaginably immense.” And falling silent, she looked up at the stars again.

“I am not surprised you enjoy thinking about these questions,” Blaise said after a while. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her closer. “If anyone’s mind can grasp this immensity, it would be yours.”

She leaned into his embrace. “Do you think the Spell Realm is part of this universe?”

“I don’t know,” Blaise said slowly. “The sorcerers of the Enlightenment theorized that the Spell Realm is truly different, not connected to our world in any way. That it exists independently, and that if it ceased to exist, our universe would remain untouched. We would just lose our ability to do sorcery. The way Lenard put it, it’s a dimension other than length, width, and depth—but that’s a difficult concept to grasp, just like nothingness.”

“Do you think there are planets next to the stars out there?” Gala seemed to be still focused on celestial matters. “Maybe even life, like there is here? Not copies of us on some identical world, but beings who are very different?”

“I hope so,” Blaise said earnestly. “I like the idea of intelligent beings out there—beings who are not necessarily human.”

Gala beamed at him, and he realized that his wish was already reality—such a being was sitting next to him right now. Grinning, he pressed her closer, her slender body warm against his side.

Her smile widened. “If those beings had discovered the Spell Realm, would it be the same one I was born in?” she asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Blaise said. “Lenard the Great himself was interested in the very questions you are asking. He didn’t think there was only one Spell Realm, but an infinite number of them. To tell you the truth, my head hurts just thinking about that.”

“I like thinking about it,” Gala said. “The possibilities are fascinating—infinite Spell Realms, life on other planets . . .”

“Yes,” Blaise agreed. “It is fascinating. You know, it’s not written about often, but there is a legend among my peers that Lenard didn’t simply disappear—that he actually invented a spell that took him to explore the stars.”

Gala looked at him intently. “I’d like to believe that. If I could, I would go up there myself—”

“Come get dinner,” Esther yelled, interrupting Gala mid-sentence.

“We better go,” Blaise said ruefully, rising to his feet and pulling Gala up as well. Esther refused to accept the fact that he did not need to eat food in a conventional way. He was not sure if Gala did. She did look excited at the offer, though, so Blaise decided to join everyone for the meal.

As they consumed roast fowl and the stew that Esther prepared, the hunters told them a little bit about life in Alania. What Blaise found most extraordinary was that this fairly large village did not engage in farming of any sort. Women gathered fruits, mushrooms, and other edible plants in the forest, while younger men frequently went out hunting. Older men helped by fishing in the local lakes and rivers. Of course, this was not rigid, and there were exceptions like Ara, who hunted with the men. To Blaise, it seemed like a simple but peaceful life.

When the meal was done, Maya and Esther turned in for the night. Gala stayed a little longer, but when the hunters began talking about their expeditions and describing the animals they killed, Blaise noticed that she was getting upset. Shortly thereafter, she said good night to everyone and joined the other women in their tent. Given her attachment to the lions, he guessed that she felt bad for the animals in these stories. It seemed like his powerful creation was quite soft-hearted and felt empathy toward all manner of creatures.

“We’re going to have to set a night watch,” Kostya told him after the meal was over.

“I would be glad to take the first watch,” Blaise offered, suppressing a yawn. He was tired, but he wanted to contribute in some way, to thank these people for their hospitality.

Kostya hesitated. “We usually like to have two men on watch—”

“I’ll do it. I’ll keep watch with Blaise,” Ara volunteered, coming up to them.

Blaise gave her a smile. Out of the entire camp, the girl seemed to be the only one who didn’t mind that he was a sorcerer.

“That’ll work,” Kostya said. “Just remember, wake us up if anything happens.”

Ara nodded in agreement, and Kostya left, heading for his tent. Shram, who had been sitting by the fire and listening to the conversation, walked off as well, mumbling something under his breath about trusting a little girl and a sorcerer with their lives. Blaise noticed that he didn’t volunteer for the watch, however.

Amused, Blaise found a comfortable spot next to a tree trunk and prepared to keep watch. Ara sat down next to him, placing her bow and arrows on the ground.

“Why do your people dislike sorcery so much?” Blaise asked Ara after a few minutes. “I understand that they don’t like sorcerers for their treatment of the peasants, but why such distrust of sorcery itself?”

“Because it’s been used against some of them,” Ara said quietly. “Shram, for instance. A group of acolytes from the Tower were passing through his village and thought it would be fun to do some experiments with Shram’s livestock. When Shram tried to object, saying that his family would go hungry if anything happened to the pigs, they paralyzed him with a spell and took the pigs anyway. Shram’s wife and son tried to stop them, so they locked them in the house, and then one of the spells they were using on the pigs went wrong . . .” She swallowed, looking down at the ground.

“What happened with the spell?” Blaise asked, getting a sick feeling in his stomach. He knew all about spells going wrong, as his own mother died in a sorcery accident. There was nothing more dangerous than a spell containing errors.

“The shed where they were experimenting with the pigs exploded, and Shram’s house went up in flames, along with his wife and son,” Ara said, her voice low and thick. “They died while Shram watched, paralyzed from the spell. A burning ember from the house fell on him, giving him that scar you see today.”

Blaise stayed silent, not knowing what to say, and after a few moments, Ara continued her story. “That’s why Shram came here, you know,” she said, staring into the darkness of the forest. “Because he ultimately found and killed the acolyte responsible for casting that spell—the only acolyte who survived that explosion.”

Blaise felt like a heavy fist was squeezing his heart. “I see,” he said softly. He couldn’t blame Shram for exacting his revenge. He would’ve done the same in his place. “And what about you, Ara? Why are you here?”

To his surprise, Ara’s lips curved in a faint smile. “Oh, my story is not nearly as tragic. I was simply fed up with Davish, Kelvin’s overseer, trying to force me into his bed. Well, that and constantly being hungry. So one day, I just packed up my things and decided to take my chances with the Western Woods.” She paused, then grinned at him impishly. “As you can see, it worked out.”

* * *

For the next couple of hours, Ara told Blaise more stories about Alania and its people. It seemed that everyone had different motivations for being there. Some came because they desired greater freedom, while others wanted to escape poverty and starvation. Many had run-ins of one kind or another with the authorities, and almost all of them desired a fresh start away from the oppressive structure of the territories. Hearing these stories, Blaise couldn’t help but admire these people’s stoicism and determination. These were individuals who took their fate into their own hands, rather than meekly accepting their station in life.

When everybody in the camp was finally asleep, Blaise decided to do a few spells to help himself with the responsibility he took on. “You don’t mind if I perform a little sorcery, do you?” he asked Ara, not wanting to be inconsiderate after hearing Shram’s story.

“No, I don’t mind,” she said. “I told you before, I’m not afraid. What spells are you going to do?”

“Well, I am about to make myself see in the dark and over much greater distances,” Blaise explained. “I’m also going to improve my hearing and prepare a basic fireball spell.”

“Oh.” She appeared nonplussed. “Why?”

“If I am expected to raise an alarm in case of danger, I want to be able to see and hear as well as I can. And the fireball is because I don’t have your bow and arrows.”

She grinned. “I see. Do you mind if I watch you write this?”

“Not at all.”

The next hour passed quietly. Blaise worked on his spells, while Ara sat still, seemingly content to be watching him. There was a curious look in her eyes, and Blaise realized he might have a volunteer if he ever wanted to teach the basics of magic to these people—if they ever wanted to learn it, that is.

Loading the vision and hearing spells into the Stone, Blaise felt the effects of them immediately. Despite the darkness, everything looked sharp and distinct, as though in daylight, only with the colors somewhat muted. The sounds, however, were overwhelming, and it took him a few moments to adjust. He could hear insects crawling on the forest floor and Maya lightly snoring in the tent.

“Did you do it?” Ara asked in a whisper, and he nodded, his brain starting to get used to the new stimuli.

It was at that moment that a new sound caught his attention.

It was a low growl in the distance.

Chapter 7: Barson

Barson was traveling for several hours when he stopped by a small river to let his horse drink and graze for a bit. Up ahead, he could see a small group of armed men. They looked like mercenaries—men who hadn’t been good enough to make it onto the elite force of the Sorcerer Guard, but who still made a living by hiring out their sword.

Ignoring them, he led his horse to the river, taking out a piece of cured meat to chew on the way.

“Hey, you got more of that?”

One of the strangers had approached him, stopping a few feet away with an arrogant expression on his face.

Barson frowned in annoyance. “No,” he retorted. “Just have enough for myself.” Then, remembering that he was trying to blend in and avoid attention, he added, “I passed an inn not too far back, though. They might have some food for you.”