I was rudely jolted out of sleep when Tim shook my shoulder. “Jason, wake up!” he said in a muffled voice. “What’s wrong?”, I asked reluctantly. “Don’t know for sure yet, but we should be on guard!” he replied seriously. Did he have a dagger in his hand? I looked around. Bob had also armed himself with a long stick and was peering out the back. The wagon was not moving, the coach was unoccupied.
From outside, I heard the loud voice of Rieg: “Stop there! Who are you and what do you want from us?” I cautiously moved to the front of the wagon and peeked out. The sergeant was standing next to the horses, holding in his hands a cocked crossbow, with which he was aiming at a man about my age standing in the road about 10 yards in front of us. To me, the stranger did not make a threatening impression, he was unarmed, with a half-filled duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. Then I remembered the robbery. Did Rieg fear an ambush?
“I’m up to no evil!” the man shouted. He raised his arms to shoulder height and showed us his empty palms. “I’m just looking for company. May I join you?” The sergeant was apparently not quite convinced yet. His eyes scanned the forest on both sides of the trail for danger. At that moment, there was a brief rustle in the bushes, then Orthok stepped out into the road behind the stranger. “Don’t worry, he’s alone!” Rieg relaxed and lowered his crossbow.
The stranger and Orthok came closer. Hanging from the hunter’s belt were two large birds that he had apparently hunted. He smiled when he noticed my glance, “My contribution to the dinner.” Only now did I notice that it was already dawn. I must have slept for several hours. Life without a clock was totally unfamiliar to me. In our world, time is omnipresent, our daily routine is based on the clock, and we always know what time it is. Not having this information was somehow disconcerting.
Tim and Bob had also gotten out in the meantime and were curiously watching the stranger who had just come to a stop in front of us. He bowed slightly, “I am Nigel Sirthan, apprentice mage, traveling on behalf of my master.” We also gave our names.
“I am pleased to meet you,” Nigel said politely. “Traveling alone is dull and not without danger, thank you for letting me come with you.”
“No problem,” Rieg said, “Are you interested in a career in the military, perhaps? War wizards are held in high regard in the king’s army.”
“Thank you for the offer,” the apprentice replied. “However, I am still in training and bound by contract to my master. As tempting as it sounds, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
“Yeah-yeah,” the sergeant grumbled. “I get it, I was just asking.” He climbed back into the wagon, packed away the crossbow, and took the reins. “We’ve got to get moving before it gets dark.”
“There’s a clearing with a stream a good distance ahead,” Orthok said. “We can make camp there for the night.” Rieg nodded in agreement and spurred the horses.
About half an hour later, we reached the spot described by the hunter. Tim and Bob used the time to pluck the birds Orthok had shot. In the process, they pestered Nigel with their questions, and I listened with interest. It was, after all, the first mage I had met in this world, even if it was only an apprentice. And I was glad that the curious brothers had found another interrogator.
As it turned out in the conversation, Nigel’s master was an alchemist of sorts, at least he made a living by making and selling potions and elixirs from magical ingredients. The source of such ingredients was mainly the Devastation and areas adjacent to it, but the market there was apparently firmly in the hands of middlemen who bought up the stuff and then sold it at horrendous prices to customers like Nigel’s instructor. Competition was not welcome and the stakes were high. That’s why Nigel had to travel to the less productive inland areas in the hope that the suppliers there were more accessible and the prices were lower.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Nigel himself was still in his first year of training, but it was almost over, as he proudly pointed out. He came from a merchant family, and would also have become a merchant if his parents had not tested him for magical abilities and received a positive result. Poor guy, I thought silently, wanted to become a magician and yet had ended up in the role of a merchant. The brothers went into great detail on the subject of the aptitude test, but were disappointed in their expectations. The whole thing was probably quite unspectacular, the examinee had to touch an artifact and then it either lit up or it didn’t, in which case you had no abilities.
The questioning came to an end when we arrived at the clearing and started setting up camp. While Tim took care of the horses, Bob was to gather firewood and I was handed a large dented cooking pot with instructions to fill the same with water from the creek.
The creek had marshy banks, so I had to follow the stream for about fifty yards until I found a spot where I could fill the pot without sinking ankle deep in the mire. I took the opportunity to drink copiously and fill my water bag. By the time I got back to the clearing, the horses were unhitched and grazing on the grass. There was a pile of branches on the ground not far from the wagon, and next to it Bob had piled up the wood for a campfire and was about to start the fire with a striking lighter.
“Let me take over!” said Nigel pompously, positioning himself next to the pile of wood. He’s about to do magic, I realized, setting the cooking pot on the ground and activating Magic Sight so as not to miss a detail. In Magic Sight, a faint reddish glow appeared in the center of the apprentice’s body. Was that his magic core? Nigel extended his arm toward the firewood. A transparent, intricate symbol appeared above the future hearth, floating slightly in the air. “Phi-rer!” the apprentice said. Nothing happened. “Phi-rer!” he repeated in a commanding tone. A thin red line extended from his magic core to the floating symbol, but broke off before it could reach its target. Nigel growled in annoyance. Wait, a minute. Was he trying to speak in the primordial language? Phi-er!" he tried again. This time, the red line reached the mark, its outline glowed red briefly and it disappeared, a fire appearing in the air in its place, leaping onto the wood and setting it ablaze.
“Wow!” exclaimed Bob enthusiastically. “That was cool!”
“Great stuff!” confirmed Tim. “Can you do any other magic?”
Nigel fussed a bit, but then admitted he could throw a fireball, too. Of course, the brothers demanded a demonstration on the spot. The apprentice extended his arm again and pointed in the direction of the forest. This time, two transparent symbols appeared above his palm, the already familiar one (did it stand for fire?) and another. “Phi-er, pfie!” commanded Nigel. The red line appeared, filling the first symbol red, but the second symbol remained transparent. There was no fire to be seen. The apprentice turned a little pale in the face. “Phl-ie!” he exclaimed excitedly. The second symbol was now also glowing red. A flame now appeared above the palm of the outstretched arm, flying staggeringly toward the forest and crashing into a tree after ten meters. It didn’t look like a fireball from a video game, it was more like he had thrown a burning log.
Tim and Bob ran to the tree and examined the hit area. I joined them out of interest. The damage to the tree was not too bad. The bark was singed in a circle about a foot in diameter, and that was all that could be seen. Still, the boys were duly impressed. I for one would have expected more.
“Now stop this nonsense before you set the cart on fire!” the sergeant shouted angrily. “It’s okay, I won’t do anything more!” shouted back Nigel readily. Somehow, he sounded relieved at that. Did he not like to do magic? Somehow, this reminded me of my first driving lessons. At that time, I also hated to get behind the wheel, because I hated to make a fool of myself and also had the feeling that my inability to drive endangered other drivers. As my experience increased, so did my confidence in driving. Did he have too little practice, or was he poorly trained? I decided to keep my distance from him in case he worked his magic again. I had not yet seen a fire extinguisher in this world.