Chapter 1
My name is Archwizard Kerijon Falazar, but I have been known by many names.
The Hooded One, The Man With the Burning Eyes, The Staff of Ios, The Salvation of Memphis, He Who Walks Between. These, and countless more are my names. My deeds. I expect you’ll want an explanation. Very well then. I suppose I ought to begin where you expect me to.
Namely, the beginning.
For the sake of expediency, we will skip my conception, birth and the early years of my life.
Suffice it to say that my childhood was a happy one, at least from my perspective, though I will admit to some personal bias on the matter.
Things became strained in my tenth ralastide or I suppose when you would call me a ten year old. Yes, I have been to your world. No, I won’t be giving my opinions on it. You’d get offended.
It was in my tenth year, that my mother passed away. Though we were a moderately successful merchant company, my father wasn’t able to find any way to cure her. We stayed with her in her last few moments, the physiker giving her poppy extract to ease the pain.
I was a rather bookish young boy before her passing, but afterwards I retreated deeply into my own mind rarely going out and talking to people even less often, with perhaps one real exception.
Though I don’t lay any blame on him, my father did little to help. He regressed in his own way. He dove into his work with a burning intensity, determined to make his dream a reality.
He yearned to become a noble, so his family would have access to the best physikers and alchemists and healers, perhaps so he would never lose anyone else again.
Nevertheless I continued to withdraw for the next 6 years learning everything I could, and consuming everything from fiction to poetry to engineering to philosophy. It was a few days in fact, after my 16th name day that our story really begins.
I woke up that morning looking forward to finishing a book on romantic philosophy by Tekran the Younger. I had stayed up late the previous night trying to finish it, but hadn’t managed to. As Master Tekran states “Once your goal is in sight, all you can do is pursue it relentlessly”.
I felt it was good advice and was considering trying to complete it now, when I heard a loud banging coming from the door to the house. While not too big our house is slightly better than average, a nice wood frame and cobblestone base to keep out the damp.
The banging was mildly muffled as I lived in the attic but I was fairly certain I knew who it was. I quickly threw on a shirt and pants not bothered with leggings as it was Ralastide (the 3 months in which Ral was the hottest of the Four Great Continents). Just before I could get to the door however, a shout penetrated the stout oak door with incredible volume.
“Jon, for Maker’s sake you promised you’d be out at noon and I’ll shout until you get out here or this blasted house falls down around you.” It was Maht, a local boy of average height, blonde hair and green eyes, one year my senior and of a fairly athletic build as his father was a leatherworker. When not forced to assist his father, he spent his time in taverns and chatting enthusiastically with girls, mostly unsuccessfully.
I had promised to help him with his numbers, as he wanted to impress a girl with his wily charm and chiselled good looks, wherever he was hiding those. But she appeared to be uninterested with his most cunning romantics, and asked yours truly for help.
I sighed as I opened the door, the old oak creaking on its hinges, and stepped out into the warm Ralastide sun. I appeared to have stepped out as he was about to shout again and caught him with his mouth gaping like the fish I had caught with Dad when I was nine.
The memory put a smile on my face before I spoke. ”Calm down Mahteo or Dad will tan both our hides.“
I said, less believably than I normally would, still basking in the glow of the long forgotten memory. ”Yeah, whatever” He retorted,” Hurry up and let’s get to the tavern before Amelie gets there”.
We both walked rather quickly to the tavern waving only brief greetings to my neighbours. Imat was a bustling port city, and everyone else was in much the same kind of hurry, sailors hurrying back to the docks in the hopes their ships hadn’t left without them, layabouts and drunkards searching for the next tavern who would still take credit and stall owners and trades people hurrying to be fed so they could get back to work.
I was familiar with the upper class tavern he was bringing us to, The Hammer’s Handle, a highly successful business in the centre of the craftsman and merchants district, it had entirely cobblestone walls with perfectly maintained thatched roofing. We had gotten to the tavern and Maht had opened the door before I realised what he had said, mere minutes before.
“What do you mean before she gets here?” I asked, perturbed,” Well I figured I would do you a solid for your name day and introduce you to a girl. Decent of me, eh?”
I froze, being dragged into the tavern by the arm as I tried to parse what Maht, lying bastard that he was, had just said. Master Tekran also says that while you should watch your enemies, you should keep closer watch on your companions. It seemed that Master Tekran was proven wise once again.
Having no choice but to go along with my erstwhile companion, I soon realized that I would have to get Maht back for this obvious setup, and to my shame that was the thought that allowed me to stay calm as my impending doom approached.
Perhaps five minutes later, though it felt like days, the tavern opened to the sight of a petite girl of about 15 wearing a corset and large round spectacles. She wore her hair at shoulder length, a soft hazelnut colour that matched her eyes.
She approached our table and sat looking downwards, small hands resting on one knee. “Good afternoon” she murmured, her voice sweet and graceful.
”I-Its nice t-to meet you, Amelie” I stammered hoping to the Maker I wasn’t making a fool of myself. Mahteo winked at me and said he was going to get something for us to drink.
She spoke up, “Master Mahteo tells me you are something of a scholar”.
I paused, considering what to say. “Well”, I finally admitted,” Maht exaggerates a lot, but I do enjoy books”. “Really?” she inquired, “What are you reading now?” I debated whether or not to tell the truth, before deciding I wasn’t sure if I could make the lie believable.
“Well, it’s one of Master Tekran’s classics, Philosophie of the Romantik.” I tentatively explained. She looked me in the eye for the first time, delight evident on her face “Oh you must let me borrow it when you’ve finished it” she exclaimed. “Um, sure, I’ve nearly finished i- “,”Its perfect, what say I come around to your house tomorrow for tea and the book. It’s the one across from Beth’s General Goods isn’t it?” she interrupted while I gave a small nod.
“Okay, I have to go and rescue my sister from chapel school, so I’ll see you tomorrow”. And like lightning she was gone as quick as she had come, with the thunderclap that was my reeling mind the only sign of her passing.
Maht came back to the table with three drinks, looking around for Amelie. “What, you chase her off already?” he smirked. Still stunned, I replied that she had invited herself to my house tomorrow. He waggled his eyebrows at me. I glared at him. Then we both chuckled and had a few drinks.
I found it ironic, I went to that inn to tutor him in mathematics, and I was staying for him to tutor me in women. However, based on his success rate, I found myself deciding to forego most of his advice.I finally stood to leave a few hours later, having heard all I could stomach of Maht’s many supposed romantic conquests, which I found highly dubious to say the least.
Maht stood as well and we walked out together. It was ironic then, that almost exactly like this morning, I heard a loud noise just before I got the door open. Except this time, it was a scream.
Maht and I looked at each other, before bursting through the door, to the chaos outside. A quick glance told us everything we needed to know. Buildings were burning, people were running haphazardly to safety and those few individuals brave or armed enough to believe they stood a chance were gathered in the square across from the inn.
It was after seeing the direction all the determined defenders were facing that we understood what was happening to the town. That’s when we saw them. A cluster of four foot high, vile little creatures, perhaps 30 in total. Then it dawned on me.
We were being attacked by the goblins. These appeared to be undead goblins. Goblins, sure, whatever, I could deal with it, mentally at least. Undead goblins unfortunately meet my fear threshold and I started running the other way, desperate to get to my house and lock and bolt my door. “Help me!” I heard a voice scream. A suspiciously familiar voice.
Fuck.
It was Amelie. I rounded a corner to see her on the dirt in the alley between the local bank and a house, a creature shambling towards her as she edged away on the ground, tears in her eyes and look of horror on her face. I started to look for something to throw at the undead husk, when Maht, who I was unaware had followed me, sprinted towards it, letting out a wordless cry as he tackled it to the ground.
Realising I could do little to help in the fight, I ran to Amelie’s side, hoping she was uninjured. Fortunately, she looked unharmed and I helped her to her feet looking to see how Maht was doing. As I turned he was hefting a large rock above his head and slam it down on the creature’s head.
Over and over, before finally stopping, out of breath. As he stood and turned, I saw his face and torso were covered in blackish pulp and gore. Somehow getting over the urge to be violently sick, I avoided looking at the destroyed remains, in case my stomach decided to rebel harder against my current conviction.
Maht started to clean his face as we tentatively crept out of the alleyway, hoping to avoid any further encounters. As we cleared the corner, a large force of goblins coming towards us from the direction of the inn appeared. It was the first time I had gotten a good look at the things and I could see black necrotized flesh, a sickly dark green skin, vacant yellow eyes and in some cases, bone was visible.
The shambling horde started towards us, bits of loose flesh sloughing off as they increased their pace. Looking for somewhere to run, it seemed that the temporary militia had retreated in the direction I had started running and we were now stuck between the goblins and the defenders.
We ran towards the motley group who called out as we approached. ”HURRY UP AND GET BEHIND US.” the apparent leader shouted, splaying his arm behind him as his men opened a path through. “RUN!
He bellowed “THEY’RE GAINING ON YOU!”. Amelie was the first to make it as her smaller form shot ahead through the gap. I was close behind when I heard a screech and a loud thud behind me. As I turned, I saw what I was dreading. One of the faster undead had leapt onto Maht and brought him to the ground.
Time seemed to slow as he raised his to look at me with fear in his eyes. The creature’s vacant eyes unmoving as it dragged a claw across Maht’s neck. As his head fell one final time, I froze once more, my entire body numb, I couldn’t do anyth-
No. Not now. Not today. No more uselessness. No. As the goblin stood, it’s comrades mere metres away, I delved into the depths of my mind latching onto the horror of what was seeing. The dead citizens in the streets lying mere metres from me, the screams of terror from Beth, a local shopkeeper and my neighbour, as two of the undead pack broke off to attack her.
The fires tha- Fire. Something about fire appealed to me, and my thoughts began to swirl in a disorienting pattern, my need for retribution fuelling a build-up I could feel in my head as my heart started hammering. As the alien pattern thoughts seemed to fade, I had the sense that something was complete, though I wasn’t sure what.
Finally my thoughts seemed to catch up to reality and I raised my arms to try and fend off the goblin that had just killed what amounted to my only friend, the furious feeling of hatred in my head seemed to broil over. The last thing I remember is feeling heat and seeing a torrent of red, orange and yellow, before blackness took me.
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I awoke as though from a dream, without hurt or worry. This lasted until I finally registered a pain so profound l felt as though my head would be split asunder. Luckily, my howls of pain alerted the physiker that was tending to me that I had awoken, and I felt a cool liquid being poured down my throat through the haze of pain.
As the pain faded, I looked to the physician, who I recognised as the grandfatherly Mikayl, who had tended to my mother, and regularly tended to my sister Kelisa, who had difficulty breathing. “..Maht..” I croaked, desperate to know whether he had survived.
Mik wouldn’t look me in the eye, confirming my fears. “I need to get your father, he asked to speak with you as soon as you awoke.” Mikayl whispered gently. That gave me time to wipe away the now free flowing tears, as I propped myself up in the bed.
Looking around, I realised I was in my father’s bed, the best and largest in the house. He entered a few moments later, a look on his face I hadn’t seen in some time. There was concern, which I was overly familiar with, but with a jolt that sobered me far more than the medicine, I realised my father was looking at me with pride.
“What do you remember?” He asked softly. I paused, struggling to recall the events before I blacked out. “Maht was….There was a goblin, undead, and it…” My father raised a hand, letting me know he understood, that I didn’t have to go any further. “I felt so angry, and then I started thinking…. I don’t know…..weirdly.” I attempted to explain, “And then, I don’t know, I just felt like I had ‘boiled over’ I suppose, and then I just saw light and felt really hot.”
My father inhaled deeply, like he always does when explaining things. “You used magic to conjure a massive flame, killing the undead” He said abruptly.
“Do you know what this means?”
“No, not really. I’m a wizard?”
He laughed “Yes that’s obvious, unless you’ve been chatting to the gods without letting me know. No, it means our dream can finally become real”,
“What do you mean, you need imperial blessing to become a noble house?”
He smiled a wolfish grin, the look I was so familiar with from seeing him getting the better of another merchant in a deal. “You’re absolutely right, Jon”, he started, “Unless of course….” He trailed off, glancing at me to see if I was hooked.
I was, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. “Unless of course, you have an accredited Wizard in your line.” He finished looking me straight in the eyes. I paused for a moment, the connection becoming clear in my head. I finally grinned right back at him, some joy leaking back into the black haze left over from Maht's death. I was going to be a wizard, and we were going to be nobles.
“One problem, I don’t know anything about magic” I began, only to yelp in surprise as a figure appeared in the armchair opposite the bed.
“I can fix that.” He said, twiddling a finely groomed moustache. He appeared to be in his fourth decade, pale eyes that seemed to gaze through you, short dark hair with salt and pepper sideburns. “My name is Moro, Court Wizard to the Imperator of Imat and you, young man, have the potential to be a great wizard.”
My father hurried to kneel, before Moro stopped him with a contemptuous wave. “That won’t be necessary.” He said condescendingly, “For I will be leaving in but a moment. Here are my terms. I shall teach the fundamentals of the arcane arts to your son for the next year, and if he proves himself worthy, I shall then send him with a letter of recommendation to The Lyceum in the Imperial Capital, of which I am an alumnus.
Come to my abode in three days at noon and we will begin your education.” With a final smirk and a loud *Bamf*, he was gone.
My father fell to his knees, a look of absolute awe on his face. It was about at this point that I blacked out again.
Blacked out. Not fainted. Fainting is for the weak of heart I merely blacked out due to the high stress environment and the returning headache. Definitely.
- 3 days later -
Jon stumbled over an uneven cobblestone, this part of the city unfamiliar to him. Wearing his best clothes and a satchel on his side, he hoped he wouldn’t be targeted by the thieves’ guild. Though the merchants and craftsmen quarter was near to the palace and more specifically, the court wizard’s tower, Jon had never ventured this close before. Jon, recovering from the near fall, looked up to see his destination.
The wizard’s tower was unlike any other building in Imat, rising at least 5 stories tall and made of a dark grey stone, with the doors at ground level. Jon approached the large set of iron-bound oak doors, tentatively knocking on them.
The door swung open slowly to reveal Moro standing with a mischievous look on his face. “Come in, come in, before I die of old age” Moro joked. After closing the door behind him, Jon attempted to bow towards his new master but was interrupted.
“Oh don’t bother with that bowing nonsense, I couldn’t care less. Speaking of which, sorry about the snob act while I was in your home, people expect wizards to act…… imperious, I suppose. Especially court wizards.” He scoffed. Not knowing what to say, I simply nodded.
Can you blame me, a Court Wizard just apologised to my face? I’m fairly certain he could turn me into a frohg and no one could say anything. Frohgs, for those who don’t know are like regular frogs, except their size may vary from that of a small dog, to that of a house.
Moro beckoned me over and as he did so I got a chance to look around the room. Aside from the single seat he was sitting in, there appeared to be nothing else in the room. Except for four chains which reached downwards from the ceiling in the centre of the room, and a vaguely rectangular depression in one corner.
I was at a loss, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. As I got to the centre of the room Moro also stood, and walked to meet me. “Look more closely at the floor.” He suggested.
Glancing down again I saw that there was a thin line forming a circle with the four chains on its edge. I saw there was something carved across the face of the circle, but every time I tried to look at it, I got a headache before being forced to look away.
Determined not to give up, I consciously fought the strange urge to look away, and was able to discern that it was some kind of geometric design, but one I couldn’t fathom. “Stop!” He ordered, arriving beside me and with a sudden abruptness conjuring a tissue from nothing.
I was about to ask why he did so only to feel blood across my upper lip. “You did well, but this enchantment is far beyond you, and your mind couldn’t handle it.” He explained, wiping away the blood.
“Now tell me what you saw”
“It was some kind of geometry”
“Good work, now before we continue, let’s find somewhere better to get started, shall we?”
And with that he said a word under his breath, and all of a sudden we started rising towards the roof and I feared we would be crushed by the ceiling, but we passed through the seemingly solid stone, one, then two, then finally three floors up, each room flashing by in a haze of colours as the stone disk, because I now knew that is what I was, rose, pulled upwards by the dark metal chains.
We arrived on the fourth floor and the disk slowed to a stop, so I could finally take in at least one of the floors. This room appeared to be the entire floor, like all the others, and was filled with a menagerie of various curios and strange items.
There was a basket of sticks, several preserved body parts floating in glass containers, multi-coloured vials and beakers on shelves and, in one corner a single desk with a seat, as well as a blackboard beside another larger chair. “Take a seat” Moro commanded, and I walked over to the desk and sit as he had asked.
As I sat, he walked over to a shelf I hadn’t noticed, which was covered in books of every size, all incredibly thick. Selecting a book about a hand and a half in length, and about a hand in width, he muttered something and waved his hand and the book floated from the shelf and landed gently on my desk. As it approached I could see the silvery outline of a hand, which I had to look twice at, to ensure I wasn’t hallucinating.
“This, will be your spell book. At least, your first.” He sat into his own chair as I examined the book before me. It was beautiful, blue hide wit golden clasps, and a gemstone set in the front cover. “Now pay attention, because what I’m about to tell you will change the rest of your life, presumably for the better, though no guarantees.” He half joked.
“Listen well, Apprentice”, all seriousness, “The art of magic is one as old as time, and though we wizards are capable of great things we are but specks of dust in comparison to those who came before."
"Magic is the practice of pulling in energy, from the Aether, also known as The Weave, which surrounds us at all times. We shape that energy by using spellforms which are symbolic geometric designs, like the one you saw on the disk that raised us up here, though that being an enchantment, means it is slightly different."
"For your basic education, we will focus on cantrips, quick spells which you could cast repeatedly without exhausting yourself, for with more complex spells there is a limit on how much the body can handle, as well as more esoteric and difficult breakthroughs required to reach them.”
He inhaled deeply, and continued with his speech, “The human mind cannot simply produce these complex forms mentally, so we use hand motions and words of an ancient language, whose original users we believe to be the ones that introduced arcane magic to Feldor. These gestures and words make the spellform in your head, which you must keep stable while gathering the Weave. For example.”
He drew a circle within a triangle on the blackboard, and then he moved his hand and spoke a word, and a bolt of flame appeared in his hand, which he flung at a target on the wall, splintering it and turning it black.
“This spellform, the triangle surrounding the circle, is a commonly used combination to produce a fire bolt. I touched my thumb to my middle finger like so, evoking a circle, which gave the bolt the form of an orb, and then spoke the ancient word for fire, ‘Verak’, which is symbolically triangular. Questions?”
Though I was absorbing a large amount of new information, I was always quick on the uptake.
“What if I just said the word for fire, without the circle?”
“Try it.”
I focused all my attention on the first two fingers of my left hand and said “Verak” a triangle briefly appeared in my head before winking out and a small amount curdling from my fingertips.
Disappointed I started to try again when Master Moro interjected “Stop, there isn’t a point in practising that one, you need to build mental fortitude. Before you ask me how, its simple.”
He said drawing another rune on the board. It looked like a sideways eight with a line running through the middle vertically.
“This, is the mind rune, one of the eight common elements, as they are known, however used less than most of the others. I will now list them and you had better take them down. Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Dark, Light, Life, and Mind. You will become intimately familiar with these eight runes, as they form the basis for every cantrip, as well as a significant portion of stronger spells."
"Now I will show you the use of just the mind rune, Menas.”
After saying the final word, a cup appeared in his hands, and he flipped coins from nowhere into the air, only for them to vanish into nothing once again before hitting the ground. “This cantrip, is colloquially known as legerdemain, and its effects are simple."
"However much energy you gather from the aether and feed into the spellform, you have that much energy with which to create or alter whatever your mind can imagine, with strict limitations such as nothing you create can be larger than your hand, and you can’t affect living creatures, that kind of thing.”
“How long do the things you create last?” I asked, seeing some incredible opportunities.
He placed an hourglass on the table and replied, “Up to an hour. And one final thing, apprentice. I’m leaving for an hour on an errand for the imperator. If you can’t reliably cast the spell by the time I get back, then I’ll stop teaching you. Have a nice day.”
He said with a smirk, oblivious to the heart attack he had just given me.