Phillip
Phillip fell to his knees. Static electricity snapped from his hands, lashing out at anyone who approached him. He was breathing as if he had just run a mile against the wind. His hands clenched tight from the lingering electricity that zapped between his fingers. With their escape finally confirmed, Phillip let out a deep sigh of relief.
Don trembled at the sight of what he just witnessed. “You are a magician! A damn powerful one at that!”
“Hardly.” Phillip fell to a kneel. “Those two spells took everything I had in my current state.”
Don was the only one courageous enough to approach to help Phillip up. With his hands wrapped in the fabric of his tunic, he was able to touch him without the static snapping him.
“Thank you, Don.”
“Thank me? I should be worshiping the ground you walk upon!”
“I hope you’re happy now, Librarian,” Captain Roki badgered. “Now, I can never returning to Lood! The second we get you to Boukua, our debt is clear, ya?”
“Completely clear, Captain,” Phillip grunted as Don helped him sit.
“Librarian? Is that some kind of sailor slang?” Don asked.
“Not exactly,” Phillip sighed. He didn’t wish to reveal himself. The fewer people who knew his identity, the better.
“Shalnark looked horrid when he flipped onto the deck. I’m going to check on him.”
“I’ll join you. I think I should be able to limp my way over there well enough.” His leg still ached from his injury in the woods. The stairs that led below deck were challenging but doable. Shalnark was taken below by the ship’s doctor. The crew laid him down in a cot on the floor. His breaths were shallow and wheezing but consistent.
Don kneeled over him while Phillip sat on a crate and the ship’s surgeon finished checking his status. “Is he all right?”
“I’ve done all I can for the wounds on his leg and arm. He lost a considerable amount of blood, but so long as he rests, he may just make it through the night. To be honest, it’s hard to tell. I’ve never treated a nymph before.”
“A nymph?” Don chuckled. “I assure you, Doctor, he is no—” The surgeon lifted the blanket that covered Shalnark’s torso to reveal large gills along his ribs. “. . . nymph.”
“How is that possible?” Phillip asked. “I thought nymphs were strictly female.”
“They are,” Don said, holding his chin. “Shalnark here is a changeling. From the looks of it, his power is growing.”
“Those sound familiar, but I cannot recall what they are.”
“Essentially, changelings are fair-folk that can shapeshift into other humanoid forms. When we first met, he could only shapeshift on a surface level. It appears my companion here is slowly learning to shapeshift on a much deeper level as well.”
Phillip adjusted his glasses and tilted his head. “Incredible. That easily explains how he was able to swim fast enough to catch up to the ship.”
“Should we place him in the water?” the surgeon asked. “Can he breathe up here?”
“Nymphs can breathe above and below water,” Don stated. “As long as his gills can close, he should be fine.”
“Very well, I shall leave him in your care then,” the surgeon said.
A full day passed as the ship sailed down the Gulf of Avelorn. Phillip awoke to the sound of a panicked scream coming from Shalnark’s cot.
“What in the Seven Hells happened to me?” Shalnark panicked. “My body is ripped to pieces!”
Phillip rushed over as quick as he could on his injured leg. Don tried to hold down a thrashing Shalnark.
“Calm down, my friend. You’re safely sailing aboard the Loyal Serpent.”
“How did I get here? Why is my torso sliced open?”
“Relax! This is just one of your transformations. You’ve grown yourself some gills and webbed limbs.”
“What?” Shalnark ran his fingers over his gills and shuddered. “I’ve only ever been able to change my skin and my face. How did I manage to do this to myself?”
“What is the last thing you remember?” Phillip asked.
“I remember jumping off the dock and nearly drowning. It’s all a bit hazy from there.”
“It seems you still have meager control over your power,” Don said. “Your instincts must have kicked in and forced you into a form that could save you.”
“Well, my instincts need to kick back in and change me back. These gills feel terrible.” Shalnark struggled to grasp a knife. “And these webbed hands are worthless.”
“Can you not change back on your own?” Phillip asked.
Shalnark looked down at his hands, and the tone of his skin began to shift back to the form he met Don in. His hands returned to normal, but the gills remained.
“It’s no use. Changing my skin and face has always felt as easy as changing my tunic. I’m not sure where to begin with changing my organs.”
“I have some books and scrolls that detail similar organic transmutation spells that might help. You might not be a true transmutor, but I am sure there is some convergence between how your supernatural powers work and how similar spells are cast.”
“It’s worth a look, I suppose,” Shalnark said with a frown. He turned to Don. “Are we still en route to the Festival of the Azure Moon?”
“Absolutely! Thanks to Phillip here, we should make it to Boukua without being harassed by the church again.”
Shalnark raised an eyebrow toward Phillip. “Is that so?”
“Oh, Shalnark, you should have seen it! Phillip singlehandedly disabled an entire navy ship!”
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“What? How?” Shalnark prodded.
Phillip smirked. “I used a spell called Lightning Reckoning. If I can muster up enough quintessence in a single spot, I can create the perfect conditions for a lightning strike. Two of those to their masts was enough to disable the entire ship.”
“So, not only did you not tell us you were a magician, but you also neglected to mention that you could summon lightning from the damn sky?”
“I’ve seen him do more than that!” Captain Roki said, walking down the stairs. “He saving me life when I was still a young merchant. This man here took on nearly twenty armed brigands that intended to murder us and take our goods. There is a reason even the mighty church has come to fear the Librarian.”
Phillip threw a sharp look toward Roki and gritted his teeth. That was twice now Roki revealed that forsaken title. Don dismissed it as nothing, but Shalnark clearly took notice.
“Wait . . .” Shalnark sat up. “You are the gods-damned Librarian? Shit, Don, we’ve been traveling with one of the most wanted men in the empire!”
Don raised his brows, but his face spelled confusion.
“There are many things I haven’t told you yet,” Phillip said, backing away. “But in my defense, I am a highly wanted man that the church will stop at nothing to eliminate. Divulging my identity to just anyone could lead to unfortunate consequences to my health.”
“You had no way of knowing we were outlaws as well,” Shalnark said. “I guess I can’t blame you for keeping something like that a secret.”
Don stared blankly back and forth between Shalnark and Phillip with his typical smile. “I thought it was quite obvious he was a librarian. Have you not seen his extensive collection of books and scrolls?”
“He’s not just some typical book salesman, Don. He is the Librarian, one of the most dangerous and feared outlaw magicians west of the Titanic River.”
“Feared though I may be”—Phillip peered down the long bridge of his nose—“I assure you I am not dangerous.”
“Tell that to the navy,” Shalnark quipped.
“He saved our lives,” Don said. “If he meant us harm, I’m sure we would have known by now.”
“If I told you why the church fears me so much, would that put your mind at ease?”
“My trust is not so easily bought, but knowing exactly how dangerous you really are would be a good start.”
“Follow me to my carriage. I have a delectable bottle of Evintian wine that is best enjoyed with good company. I’ve been dying to try it, but it has been far too long since I have had such company.”
Don helped Shalnark to Phillip’s carriage, which was loaded into the tween deck with its wheels removed. The inside of the carriage felt cramped with all of its contents tied down or stored in crates with no particular order to it. To others, Phillip must have appeared terribly disorganized and messy, but this was an illusion. In truth, he knew exactly where everything was, and it was always within arm’s reach of where it would be used. Phillip believed in efficiency over aesthetics. He pulled a bottle of old wine from one of the chests next to his desk. Don and Shalnark took seats on crates while Phillip poured each of them a glass.
Phillip smelled his wine before sipping. The Evintians were famous for pioneering many fields of science, and wine crafting deserved to be among their significant accomplishments. The smell alone made the wine worth the wait.
“Sniff your wine later, wizard,” Shalnark cut in. “I’m eager to hear the truth behind the legend.”
“Tell me what you’ve heard about me first. It’s been a while since I’ve listened to the bloated tales the people have been spreading.”
Shalnark stared at the ceiling and thought for a moment. He snapped his fingers and said, “I heard in Riverhill that you were a dealer in demonic heretical books. That you travel the land spreading misinformation meant to turn people away from the grace of the Gods.”
“A classic story, but it is nothing but pure slander. What you see in this carriage is my entire collection of books of scrolls. Are they heretical? Perhaps from the perspective of a closed-minded zealot who believes that only the Holy Trinity are worthy of high praise. Are they demonic? Some give information about demons and devils, but they certainly are not authored by them. Do I spread misinformation? Absolutely not. I have devoted my entire life to attaining and sharing knowledge with those who seek it. I would never intentionally misinform anyone.”
“So why does the church seem to fear you so much if all you are is a traveling book peddler?” Don asked.
“They fear me because the books I peddle contain forbidden knowledge they wished to keep from the good people of the empire. They contain powerful spells from both the New Magic and the Old Magic. In addition, there are texts detailing various studies into the true nature of the Great Beyond outside of the convenient stories priests preach about each week. These books question the teachings of the church, and there is nothing more threatening to their power than a curious nation.”
“I heard you attained all this forbidden knowledge from demons.” Shalnark chuckled. “I’m going to assume that is another lie?”
“Indeed, it is. The vast majority of these tomes come from foreign lands or were written by my own hand from texts I stole from monasteries. I am highly fascinated by both magic and the Great Beyond, so I travel the entire continent in search of any information I can find about both, immortalize them in text, and disperse them to like-minded peers around the empire.”
“How noble,” Don said.
“Sharing knowledge is all well and good, but I’ve also heard you do far more than just travel and write. I’ve seen the aftermath of a failed attempt to capture you. Nearly two dozen city guards wounded or killed in the streets of Rorfeld. How do you explain that?”
Phillip frowned. He had tried his best to forget that day. Every time his mind began to paint a picture of the incident, his stomach twisted. It was his greatest failure. The silence dug itself deep into the carriage as the rock and creek of the ship grew too loud to bear.
“There is no good way to explain that.” Phillip’s head hung low. “I thought I had control over my power when I clearly did not, and those men paid the eternal price for it. I am unsure how, but the Sentinel that has been hunting me for years tracked me down to Rorfeld. Her and an entire unit of Rorfeld City Guard ambushed me in the alley I was hiding in. I panicked and . . .” Phillip’s glass trembled in his hand. He was not an emotional person, but that memory was horrific enough to break even a stoic man such as he.
“Are you all right?” Don asked.
“My apologies . . . I panicked and lashed out with an electrokinetic spell that I had not yet fully grasped. I have devoted every day since then to practicing my gift to assure that I have each and every one of my spells mastered so that I never lose control again.”
“When we found you under that tree, it appeared as if it was struck by lightning,” Don pondered. “It was quite an odd sight considering there was no storm that night. You were practicing your Lightning Reckoning spell, weren’t you?”
Phillip ground his jaws. “Yes . . . I must admit that spell has proven quite difficult to master. If you had not arrived, I would have certainly died out there in the wilderness.”
Keeping his gaze down, waiting for his new companions to respond, Phillip wondered if telling them the whole truth was a good idea. He wished to earn Don’s trust in particular. He was the first magician Phillip had ever met who was both a proficient transporter as well as a practiced summoner. There was so much he could learn from him.
“Listen, Phillip.” Shalnark finished his wine in one gulp. “I’m not one to judge anyone for killing guards. I’ve killed my fair share. Maybe not twelve at once, but you get my point. You seem genuine enough, but like I said before, my trust is not easily bought. Just don’t fry us alive, and you’ll be all right by me.”
“Thank you, Shalnark. I will be sure to remember that,” Phillip said.
Don just sat there leaning on both his fists with his eyes squinted.
“Don? Do you have any more questions for me?” Phillip asked. The serious expression on Don’s face worried him.
“Only one,” Don stated sternly, “but you must promise to answer truthfully.”
Phillip gulped. “Ask away.”
Don’s eyes squinted further. “What is that glass you wear on your face?”
The question was so absurd, Phillip almost didn’t understand it.
“You mean . . . my spectacles?” Phillip said, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“Spectacles, hmm? They make your eyes look bigger.”
Glasses were not exactly rare in this day and age. Considering how educated Don clearly was, surely he was aware of the existence of corrective lenses. Phillip looked toward Shalnark for an explanation.
“Don’t look at me. Sometimes he’s a genius, and sometimes he’s an idiot.”
Beginning to question his initial judgment of Don, Phillip handed his glasses over to him with a furrowed brow, waiting to hear the punch line to the joke he must have been telling. No such line came.
“How can you see through these? Everything looks as if I have drunk an alehouse dry.”
Don seemed unfazed by Phillip’s past and unafraid of the consequences of what transpired at Port Lood. It was as if they were never running for their lives. He was a child that inhabited the body of an adult. Though Phillip knew he could never understand him, he hoped he would be able to learn what he needed from him, and if they became friends along the way, that would be agreeable as well.