Chapter 6: Ledas: Misunderstanding

It was a dirt road flanked by endless golden grain fields under a sky too vast to comprehend. Two figures, cloaked in worn robes with wide-brimmed hats shadowing their faces, ambled towards the next village. Despite the small one's restless movements, the heavy backpacks on both the boy and his father, Zander, did not slow their pace. The wind played with their hair and clothes in a carefree dance.

"What spell will you teach me today, Dad?" the boy buzzed with excitement. "

Hmm…" Zander paused, scratching his temples darkened by the sun. He glanced at the nine-year-old boy, who was smiling from ear to ear.

"You already know how not to thirst or suffer from hunger outside, nor can the cold or hot sun harm you. Weights don't slow you down, and chains cannot bind you. But can you mend your clothes? How about sewing? Magic can't mend clothes, and it's a skill you ought to have."

Zander's clothes bore the testament of numerous patches. "I don't want that! Teach me how you walk on air or disguise yourself!" the child protested, pressing his lips together and folding his arms in defiance.

"Sunshine, magic loves the humble. Plus, your trousers will soon have some holes." Zander took out a box with needles and threads as they halted under the shade of a big oak tree.

"I can do it, dad, it's simple I saw you doing that!" The boy grabbed a needle from his father's hand, trying to prove that he could do it all, only to prick himself. When he pulled his hand back it was covered in blood.

Abruptly, the warmth drained from the air; the sun hid behind dark clouds, and the golden fields vanished, replaced by barren land. The oak providing the shade was gnarly and dry. He was alone on the road as a chilling mist enveloped everything, obscuring his hands before his eyes. Something freezing grasped his leg, pulling him down as if into a bone-chilling river.

Jerking his leg away, Ledas's eyes snapped open to rapid breaths. He found himself on a bench in a small, chilly, windowless room illuminated only by the flicker of a lone torch.

What's going on? Where am I? Ledas's mind was clouded as he tried to remember what had happened previously.

To Ledas it looked like a detention room, or a prison, why else would anyone have such a room in the basement?

Finn and Flynn rushed towards him but halted: repelled by an unseen barrier. Their hands banged against it, their shouts silent to Ledas's ears.

He looked at the brothers; all he could guess was that he was either in a force prison or…

"Just use the door" Ledas sighed as he rubbed his face in disbelief, trying to eject the remnants of the strange dream from his mind. The twins stopped shouting and banging the invisible wall. One of them grabbed an invisible handle and opened the invisible prison, entering it. The boys found this performance funny.

"Did you know that you are the nemesis of fun?" The mimes were pouting and giggling to themselves.

Relief washed over him. Thank the gods, it’s not a real 'Force prison'.

"Well, you almost got me,” He moved his hand as if banging an invisible wall. “ But some of your clothes passed through the invisible wall “

"That's a bummer," one of the twins responded. "Anyway, the invisible wall is around the whole room. So we were having fun with it." The brothers were akin to puppies in their disposition.

Ledas slowly began to recall events before going unconscious, growing more anxious. His thoughts raced: What the hell happened, did that mage figure it out? He quickly checked his ankle; it didn't hurt. He got healed... But his ribs hurt like hell, so he was just quickly patched up with a local effect spell. If they had figured it out, he would have been in a dungeon or dead, not healed, so his secret was safe for now.

A cover story… he needed one, a well-prepared lie. Why did I freeze? Why did I jump? How did I recognize that the court mage was about to cast a targeted spell on me? What have others already told? Where are Olaf and Arty, are they safe?

So many unanswered questions spun in his mind, very little time to figure it out.

"Where are the guys?" Ledas went for the important one first. They were probably fine; otherwise, the twins would not have been in the mood for pranks.

"Blue-robed ones wanted to ask questions, so they separated us." Finn and Flynn were quite relaxed. "Good thing I didn't pouch that ring," Finn made a gesture as if taking the sweat from his forehead.

When the boys finished, Ledas had almost finished his cover story that didn't include any magic, but could if needed. Before he tried to stand up, though, the door opened, and a thin film covering the doorway disappeared. The High Journeyman, who was organizing the loading, entered the room. In the dim lights of the room, sharp facial features and rectangular glasses made him look even more eerie. He showed the tweens to get out with his gaze, and as soon as they left the room, he focused his gaze on the porter boy.

"Why did you jump?" Without greetings, the journeyman-robed mage started the questioning, leaving his opponent no space to maneuver.

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"Stick to the story," Ledas thought to himself in his mind. "I saw a mage casting walls of flame before burning my village, and that man stood just like him, so I thought that mage would burn me alive for dropping the sofa..." A nice half-truth is a good lie, that’s what Ledas thought, but he was a mediocre liar.

"Cut the crap! Your accomplices told us already that you are a mage and a thief!” Ledas had no trust issues with his companions, so the attempt was in vain.

"Sir Mage, I can only make a couple of cups of hot water, and I have never done mage work for pay. I’ve never avoided the guild tax!" Ledas was intentionally stuttering a bit, pretending to be more scared than he was. The response was a contingency, if asked; his band would mention the water, one of the simplest spells to drop off suspicion of him performing paid services without a license. Plus simple water magic textbooks were on the black market for quite some time now.

"I see you are not cooperating! Fess up who hired you, scum!" The High Journeyman slapped the young magician on the cheek, disorienting him. The magician made a few moves back towards the corner of the bed, covering his head, afraid of the next hit. He glanced at the guildsman only to see murderous intent in the eyes of the man. Ledas was shocked; this man in front of him was a psycho, maybe not a skilled torturer, but definitely a violent psychopath.

Instinct took over. "One of your people did, sir, to move things and pay a nice sum for that," his voice was uneven, his hands shaking. He remembered what life taught him. The more subservient you look to them, the higher the chances that they wouldn't hurt you; a lot of mages and nobles are arrogant and full of hubris, so knowing one's place was almost a sure way to avoid trouble.

"And how much would they pay you?" The Journeyman felt like he was making some progress.

"Two silvers, sir," Ledas was thinking, trying to keep his cool, and well, he had done nothing wrong, and the guild mages were not in favor any longer, they were not legally immune, so why was this guy so hostile? Mage moved his hand pronouncing an incantation, closing the door at a distance.

"Wait? Why are you closing the door, what is going on?!" Ledas spoke with a shaking voice in his voice and screamed in panic internally, pushing himself harder against the wall, still sitting on the bed.

The mage got closer, extending his arm; magic started to form in his palm. The forming spell looked like yellow lightning moving from finger to finger as the mage was speaking in an ancient tongue. A long-range precision lightning spell, looks terrifying, is he giving a last chance to talk or just intimidating? Three seconds felt like minutes, and all Ledas could see was the spell forming, waiting to be released at point-blank range. Can't run, can't hide, can't dodge if he finishes.

Before the last syllables of the spell, giving the vector for the attack, were given, Ledas dropped the act, kicking the guildsman in the gut, hiding his intent and gaze until the last moment, making the mage lose his breath and bend forward from the impact, but a magic film protected him from any damage.

Ledas pulled the mage towards the bed, using him to propel himself towards the door, hoping he could escape and call for guards, he assumed mages wouldn't dare to kill someone on the streets in this political climate. The door opened, but Ledas clearly saw an invisible magical wall closing his access to the corridor.

“Should I?” he asked himself tapping the source hidden in him. But feeling the power inside calmed his nerves instantly.

Even if he could use all his trump cards to escape, he would end up in a situation where death would be preferable. The panic returned tenfold. He screamed as loud as he could, hoping it would penetrate the walls.

"MURDER, HEEEELP" his voice was high and loud. He was in full panic about getting murdered and needed help, so it all sounded natural.

"So that's your last words?" - the mage was already up, not moving closer to a disadvantageous position, and the spell was still crackling in his hand.

Mage sustained his focus, smiling like a predator who let his prey feel a breeze of freedom, just for a split second, only to take it away

Fuck, that escalated quickly, Ledas thought. Ledas was screaming internally, trying to figure out a way to hold on, if a chance of help might arrive.

He ducked, bending his shaking knees and facing the opponent with his knees shaking. Golden lines appeared on his hands as he quickly crossed multiple of his finders making complete runes at each stage of the spell.

Water formed a thin grid in front of him to redirect incoming lightning bolt to the ground.

His opponent straightened, dispelling the electrical current in his hand, and looked at the water grid grinning.

Something firm grabbed Ledas' shoulder from behind. It was the court mage, with his relaxed grin. Ledas' heart skipped a beat. Images of him getting immolated to dust appeared in front of him. The water grid he created lost its cohesion and collapsed to the ground. It was over.

"Sorry, lad, did Astolf scare you?" the old court mage was calm and his voice resembled one of a typical grandpa, his eyes smiling. "Here, for keeping a secret" he grabbed the hand of the scared teenager and put something in it, closing the fist. "Now, get back to work."

Ledas moved slowly out of the room, through the corridor his whole body shaking as he reached the ladder upstairs from the cellar and outside the building.

“What the heck just happened, what’s wrong with these people, is this why Father always warned me about guild mages?”