Warcraft: Duskwood

Year 25, Day 2

When I’d first started going through the theory books that Mazen Mac'Nadir the librarian had recommended to me, I’d been rather delighted. Arcane magic––the primary form of magic used by the local wizards who called themselves mages––was powerful, versatile, and absolutely fascinating. In some ways it even seemed superior to the wand magic I was most familiar with, and certainly more wieldy than the skills I’d learned from Ozpin.

The local wizards divided magic into eight schools: abjuration, conjuration, divination, enchantment, illusion, transmutation, evocation, and necromancy. All spells fell into one or more of the schools, though some of the categorizations I’d come across seemed…dubious. For instance, the local version of Apparition was apparently classified as transmutation, as was magic that affected time. In fact, the entire system seemed to be hotly debated. Some books claimed there were actually nine schools, though none seemed to have a complete list. Others confidently stated that necromancy wasn’t actually a type of arcane magic, and, looking at their evidence, I was leaning towards that being true.

In any case, arcane magic was amazingly flexible and incredibly powerful. It could seemingly do the majority of what wand magic could do, and even got around a number of common limitations. They even had a number of spells that conjured edible food from nothing, and one that made you smarter! I had no idea how that second one worked, but I wanted it.

Arcane magic also wasn’t the only type of magic available on this plane. Looking deeper, I’d found a book with an interesting diagram that showed the various forms of energy that could be used to cast spells. There were six of them, three pairs that each opposed the other. Order and Disorder, Light and Shadow, and Life and Death. Arcane magic was order magic, though clearly of a sort different than what Kent had been teaching me.

Each type of magic had its own issues and advantages, with Arcane being the most flexible of the group but also requiring the most effort and study to use. Most of the books I’d borrowed were about Arcane magic because that was what the school and library both specialized in, but the librarian had also left me two books that discussed the other types at length.

I’d initially thought little of these other forms of magic––after all, the local wizards specialized in one of them for a reason––but reading further, I’d quickly changed my mind. Light mages could raise the dead. Not as undead, but as themselves. That sort of magic was highly limited, only worked in a short window of time, and required years to master, but what did that matter when it could resurrect people? Light mages were also expert healers and could cast all sorts of powerful protective spells.

I wanted it. No, I needed it. It would take years, perhaps even decades, for me to grow adept enough with the Light to cast those spells, and I wanted that safety net right now. Getting a land bound was still a higher priority––since it meant I could leave this plane and return at my leisure––but only barely compared to hunting down someone capable of using that magic and creating a Blueprint of them.

Putting that aside for the moment, I’d been very excited to try my hand at using arcane magic, or really any of the local magical disciplines. There were few things that excited me more than new spells, and I was greatly looking forward to dipping my toes into a whole new Plane worth of magical lore and secrets.

Fortunately however, I’d kept reading before I made a terrible mistake. Because, as I continued to read through all the books I’d duplicated from the library, I’d come to a horrible realization. I hadn’t been certain at first, needing to reread several sections just to confirm things for myself, but by the time I’d finished going through all the books and scrolls I’d been given, I was confident in my conclusion.

The local magic was powerful, but that power came at a price. It was all corruptive. Actively, insidiously corruptive, like certain forms of the dark arts from back home. Even the notorious House of Black shied away from certain forms of magic, knowing that only bad things came from overutilization such arts.

Some of it was obvious. There were dozens of warnings in the books about trying to use Disorder and Death energies. Fel magic––the result of harnessing disorder––slowly turned you into a demon, first warping your body and then your soul until you were something totally unrecognizable.

Similarly, necromancy literally killed you as you used it, aging and withering your body until only bones remained. Most of the most powerful necromancers the books mentioned were liches or other forms of sentient undead––and wasn’t that an interesting concept––because if you weren’t one already when you started learning the art, you eventually became one, gave up, or died.

Then there was shadow magic. That seemed a little bit safer, particularly if you balanced it out with the powerful healing of light magic, but the consequences of overusing it were catastrophic and irreversible. Those who delved too deeply were driven mad, one book describing it as being ‘hollowed out from the inside by the touch of the void’. Nope. Not touching that. I’d already inherited the Black madness––the result of unfortunate forays into the blackest of dark arts––and absolutely did not need any more of that in my life and mind.

The other three were slightly less bad, but I knew how to connect the dots. The books on arcane magic outright stated that practicing it could be dangerous. They were tucked away or not given much credence, but several of the books I’d read quoted the four laws of magic, three of which made me rather skeptical.

First up there was ‘Magic is Powerful’ which, okay, that one makes sense. But then what about ‘Magic is Corrupting’, ‘Magic is Addicting’, and ‘Magic draws the denizens of the Twisting Nether to those who wield the arcane’. I probably didn’t have to worry about that last one since demons seemed to be a local problem and I planned to leave soon, but the first two…yeah. Casting arcane magic made you want to cast more arcane magic and corrupted your soul. I needed my soul. My soul was what made me me and also housed my Spark.

Then there were the magics that used Light and Life to power them. None of the books went out and said it outright, but Light magic seemed to depend heavily on faith and perception. In fact, most of its wielders were priests and paladins, members of a religious order that worshiped this power. I had no doubts that overuse of Light magic probably resulted in all sorts of mental damage. The self-reinforcing kind that drove those who used too much dark magic without the proper precautions deeper and deeper into its clutches.

Finally, there was Life magic. This was the one I was least certain of, since only two of the books touched on it and rather briefly at that. However, the one example of such mages that the books gave already sounded rather problematic. Druids apparently spend decades or even centuries at a time sleeping as they ‘communed with nature’. Many of them also possessed various animal features like claws or antlers.

Not only did that first part sound like something of an issue, but the latter reminded me of the warnings about Fel magic. I suspected that perhaps Life magic first damaged the soul and then moved on to altering the body. Catatonia and long comas were a dangerous symptom of severe soul damage like what had happened to Amber.

“Hydrys.”

All that was to say that my enthusiasm for learning the local magics had quickly died down into a scant few embers compared to the bonfire it had been yesterday. As much as I wanted the abilities promised by such a powerful system of spellcasting, I wasn’t sure that the cost was worth the outcome. Not when I had so many other options to explore.

Particularly since I could potentially get all the benefits without any of the cost. I just needed to find some experts, create blueprints, and voila! Access to all the powerful and unique abilities of life, light, void, disorder, order, and death magics without risk of going insane, turning into some sort of twisted magical creature, damaging my soul, or anything else I’d missed. Finding such experts would be challenging, but I would have needed to do so anyway if I wanted to learn from the best of the best, so it wasn’t that big of an issue.

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I flipped open one of my duplicated books to the back, where there was an intricately illustrated diagram of the fundamental forces and their associated magics. Six circles were arranged in an elongated oval, with a number of smaller circles within the larger oval. At the top of the oval was the light, then disorder, death, shadow, order, and then finally life. It was an interesting way of arranging things. I wondered if there was something similar in my original homeworld, something that wizards had never discovered. I didn’t think so, but it was a novel idea to consider.

“Hydrys!”

My finger paused as I traced over the circle representing disorder. There was a smaller circle beside it labeled ‘The Burning Legion’. I'd heard that name come up several times now. It was some sort of demonic organization that had invaded this world, Azeroth, several times in the past. They were attracted to Arcane magic, feeding on it in some way near as I could tell, and were the ‘denizens of the twisted nether’ that the fourth rule warned about.

I was curious how that worked. I didn’t think they were planeswalkers. The idea of Fel magic turning someone into a Planeswalker sounded…wrong. But at the same time, it seemed as though the Plane contained a number of different worlds. The Burning Legion was said to have consumed a number of those already, and was constantly searching for more.

My working theory was that instead of planes, this referred to planets. The Burning Legion could not directly travel through the cold, dead void of space, but they could use portals and magic to bridge the gap. That didn’t fully explain everything, but it was the most reasonable explanation I could come up with. That, or perhaps this plane was in some way like an expanded trunk with multiple compartments. I’d landed on Azeroth, but I could have also ended up on one of numerous other ‘worlds’ that made up the overall plane.

“Hydrys!”

I flinched as a hand landed on my shoulder, shaking me out of my reverie. The book in my lap slipped and fell several feet before Glynda caught it with her semblance and levitated it back into my waiting hands. I quickly realized that she’d been trying to get my attention for several seconds now, but I’d been too engrossed in my thoughts and books to notice.

I turned to Glynda, smiling as though nothing had happened. “Yes? Do you need something,”

Glynda gave me a rather flat look, then sighed and shook her head, “We’re almost there. You said to notify you when we drew close to Duskwood.”

I blinked. “Already?” Wasn’t Duskwood supposed to be rather far from Stormwind? It had certainly looked like a rather significant distance on the maps.”

Glynda sighed heavily. “Hydrys, we’ve been flying for most of the day.”

Kent laughed. “Ah, I remember the days I could lose an entire weekend in the library. Now, it seems like I can barely pick up a book before I feel nature’s call beckoning me away.”

It can’t have been that long, right?” I mindlessly tucked the book I’d been reading back into my expanded bag and drew my wand. “Tempus,” I mumbled softly.

It was well into the afternoon, early evening even. We’d left the Gilded Rose around nine.

“Oh.” My stomach rumbled and Kent laughed again.

“Oh, indeed! Those must be some mighty fine books!”

“Definitely…informative. I assume everything is going alright?”

“So far so good,” Glynda reported. “We had to stop a few times so Kent could adjust our path, particularly when the road vanished into the trees, but I believe we should be well on our way to Darkshire Village. Your illusion has held up well––I don’t believe we’ve been noticed by anyone.”

“Excellent.” We were flying inside of one of Kent’s Order magic constructs, and had decided that a giant golden sphere zooming through the air wouldn’t be particularly subtle and could attract enemies and other interested parties. Thus, I’d sheathed the entire thing in something like a disillusionment charm reinforced with Blue mana, and it seemed like it had managed to last throughout the day.

I looked around with interest, peering at the trees flickering past beneath us. It was rather dark, unnaturally so given the time, but that had been expected. This forest had once been called Brightwood but then a powerful curse had permanently darkened the sky and caused all sorts of dangerous magical creatures and undead to start appearing in the area.

I could see bits and pieces of that curse lingering in the air. Pockets of something that looked very much like the dark magic I was used to drifted through the sky like clouds, reminding me somewhat of Gotham and Slaughter Swamp.

In front of and to our right, I could see a line of small mountains, or perhaps just rocky hills, emerging from the dense, dark forest. Judging from the road I could just barely make out through the trees beneath us, that was probably the mountainous circle that surrounded the Great Tree of Duskwood.

Turning around, I could just barely make out the banks of the Nazferiti river, which marked the boundary between Duskwood and Elwynn forest. It was a strange sight, particularly since I could see the line of trees where the canopies turned from dark and twisted to a bright, leafy green. One side of the river was clearly brighter than the other, making for a rather odd visual dichotomy.

I turned to look at Kent, who was floating at the center of the sphere with his hands folded behind his back, his cane, a large map, and the atlas I’d duplicated suspended in the air in front of him. He looked surprisingly cheerful for having been flying for so long, his smile at odds with our gloomy surroundings.

“How are you holding up, Kent?” I asked, “Do you know how much longer till we reach that village?” We’d decided it would be best to have a base of operations to work from while exploring the forest for good locations and interesting Blueprints, and it was better to co opt existing infrastructure than create it from scratch.

Kent hummed thoughtfully. “I’m alright. Don’t you worry about me. In terms of time, well. It's hard to say. The maps here, they’re not really up to the standards I’m used to these days. I’ve been having to compare a half-dozen different ones to one another and they’re all at least somewhat wrong. Perhaps…half an hour at the most? Fifteen minutes? It's hard to say for certain until we actually see the village in the distance. At the very least, I’m pretty sure this is the right road, so we can avoid having to backtrack for a third time.”

My stomach grumbled again and I sighed in annoyance. Reaching into my bag, I withdrew a trio of sandwiches wrapped in plastic and charmed to stay fresh for weeks. I passed one each over to Glynda and Kent, then unwrapped my own and bit into it hungrily. Apparently I hadn’t eaten for quite some time and my preoccupation with my books was coming back to bite me.

Mhm, delicious. Glynda had discovered a delightful muggle sandwich shop called The Falcon Slab that had an excellent selection. They only took cash and didn’t have a seating area so it wasn’t really somewhere I could take Zatanna, but Glynda stopped by from time to time to pick up a large order. Whenever we had some left over, I simply cast a preservative spell on them and put them away for a day like today. It hadn’t even been two full days yet, but it was good to have such a filling reminder of my new home.

True to Kent’s predictions, we reached the village of Darkshire about fifteen minutes later. Instead of flying directly into the village, we landed a few minutes walk away and proceeded on foot. Unlike in Kent and Zatanna’s world, flight did not seem to be a particularly common ability here, outside of certain magical creatures like dragons and gryphons.

The road we’d been following by air was ancient and slowly falling into disrepair. Lanterns lit the path at infrequent intervals, leaving most of it shrouded in gloom, and there were patches of rickety fencing in places, along with many more where fencing had once been but was long gone now.

We were met just outside the town by a jumpy-looking young man in cheap-looking armor, a hammer held in one hand and a torch in the other. He stepped out into the path, looking like he would prefer to be anywhere else, and called out, “H-halt in the name of the Night Watch! W-who g-goes there?”

We stopped, more out of politeness and not wanting to start any trouble than anything else. After a moment, Glynda stepped forward, “We’re adventurers hailing from Stormwind. We were hoping to stay here for a time while we explore the area.”

“A-adventurers?” the apparent guard exclaimed, “Oh, thank the Light! Things have been getting really bad around here ever since the army pulled out. Are you here to help us?” Before any of us could say anything, he stepped out of the way and gestured down the road. “You should go talk to Commander Althea Ebonlocke. She’s been in charge of protecting the town since all the soldiers left.” He sagged against the trunk of an ancient, withered-looking tree with a look of hope on his face.

The three of us exchanged looks and I shrugged. “She probably has the most up to date information about what’s going on around here. I don’t know how current our maps are at this point.”

Glynda nodded in agreement. “We’ll do that. Thank you, young man. Could you point us towards her location, and perhaps the local inn?”

“Oh, right, uh,” he straightened and brandished his torch. “She’s somewhere in the town. Any member of the Night Watch should be able to point you to her. And the only inn we’ve got is Scarlet Raven Tavern. It's just down the road, you can’t miss it.”

Glynda smiled softly at him. “Thank you.”

He weakly smiled back. It didn’t seem as though he’d had much to smile about recently. “Welcome to Darkshire.”