Jacob didn’t know what was happening. The airship’s engines burst into flames in an instant, sending the flying machine into descent. Then hundreds of masked invaders came up from below decks and attacked. Right now, he wasn't fighting, he wasn’t going out in a blaze of glory. He was hiding like a coward in the captain’s room while the captain himself tried to hold off the attackers for a bit more.
Jacob had lied to them, the crew and the captain. He had said that he was a powerful wizard that could cast a spell to save the ship. Jacob was a wizard, but instead of a genius that could cast 8th tier magic like the captain believed him to be, Jacob was a mere 2nd tier wizard capable of casting weak spells.
Jacob wasn’t strong, he wasn’t especially smart either. What he did have was a silver tongue. For his entire life and career as a wizard’s servant he had tricked, fooled, and deceived his way into a position of power over his peers. He had convinced them all that the great wizard liked him more than the others. Now none of that mattered. Raw power was what mattered. The ability to explode your enemies at a thought and lift an airship with a thought is what mattered.
Looking around, Jacob surveyed his surroundings. The once luxurious room had been desecrated by a scuffle with hooded attackers that had blasted their way through the stained-glass windows. The bodies of those same attackers littered the floor, chopped apart by the rage of the captain. Jacob lifted himself from the sitting position he was in on the floor and made his way over to the window. The ground was fast approaching. They had a minute at most before the ship splintered on the desert sand below.
He had a small amount of magic left in his system. Enough to cast a 1st tier weak wind gust to cushion his fall. Suddenly, something started banging on the door. The attackers for sure. It was now or never. Jacob reached into his rings, filled with magic. He pulled magic from the jewelry and created thin strands from the magic that led into his head. Instantly, everything became clearer, and his thoughts started running faster than a runaway carriage. Wizard’s high. It was important to resist sinking into the feeling, more than one wizard had died that way.
In his mind Jacob weaved the different strands into the runes that would constitute the gust of wind spell. Control, wind, and force. Control would allow him to decide when and where the gust of wind would appear, wind would gather the air together and compress it, and finally force would push the compress air.
Not wasting a second, Jocab gathered his wits and launched himself out of the broken window and towards the ground below. He had to time this exactly. Too early the gust of wind would fade, and he would be unable to catch him before he hit the ground and too late it wouldn’t slow his momentum enough to do anything.
3, 2, 1. He released the spell he had been holding together in his mind for the past ten seconds. A blast of wind unfurled itself beneath him. The fall he had been unable survive a few seconds ago was suddenly easily endured. Instead of splattering across the sun blasted sand he landed with a loud thump. Sand was kicked up around him by the fall and Jacob heard something snap at the same time that excruciating pain erupted along his left arm. It was broken for surely, but Jacob had felt worse. Spells had exploded before. Note to all young and upcoming wizards, avoid making mistakes when casting fireballs at all costs.
With a pained groan Jacob lifted his battered and broken body from the scalding sands. His robes weren't meant for this. They were meant to look good and represent his master. Now they were useless, just dragging him down. He removed the heavy embroidered white robes, wincing when the robes brushed his broken arm, revealing simple clothing underneath. Jacob only wore the robes for appearances. At night when no one could see him and when he stopped at towns Jacob would wear these normal clothes.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Above Jacob the airship came hurtling down trailing smoke. It crashed into the dunes with a resounding crash that shook the surrounding landscape and almost sent Jacob to the ground again. The situation wasn’t good. The ship had carried everything they needed to survive a month-long airship trip across the Yzal desert, rations, water, gold. All that gone down in flames. Jacob couldn’t go back to the ship. If the hooded bastards had survived, they would probably kill him on sight and if the crew and captain were alive, they would probably stick his head on a pike and parade him around.
Their destination; “Capital of Yzal” was probably close, maybe a day or two of travel. The magic left in his rings was enough to defend him from the few weak insects that came his way. Looking up to the sky he saw that the sun was setting already. Great, the capital was in the west where the sun was setting.
Jacob used strips of cloth from his robe and an intact piece of wood from the ship to make a makeshift splint for his arm. A skill that he learnt from his master before the wizard had locked himself in the tower.
After he finished the splint, Jacob set out towards the city. Only ten minutes after he started his travel, he came across a charred corpse of one of the hooded attackers. Once he had gotten closer, he adrenalized that the body wasn’t as dead as he thought it was. It lurched forward with the strength of a cornered beast and grabbed onto his ancle. Jaco hit the ground hard, screaming as his broken arm slammed against the sand. Although the half-dead hooded attacker had an initial burst of strength, he was weakened, and Jacob was able to easily kick it off him. It expired as soon as Jacob’s kick hit its head.
He shuddered and clutched his arm as he stood over the finally dead attacker. He took the time to fully inspect the body. Before, with the bodies in the captain’s room, he had been too scared and caught up in his thoughts to try and figure out who these people were and what they were doing. The hood and leather were non-descript except for the fact that it was black. Nobody wore black in the desert. That is one of the main rules of survival in the desert sun. Aside from the clothing the attacker had a charred scabbard, empty of course but Jacob found the sword that belonged with it ten feet away half buried in the sand.
This attacker must have either jumped off the ship in a desperate bid for survival like me or had been pushed. He lifted the hood and recoiled from what he saw. A charred and blackened skeleton with small remnants of flesh still clinging to the bone. It didn’t look like the fire had burned the flesh off the bone. Messificus. The magic of the dead. That type of magic wasn’t reviled in any way, in fact people respected and honored Messificans. They supplied workers that never tired and let families see their loved one for one last time. But Messificans were exceptionally powerful, and they had centuries to plan their schemes. If a Messifican attacked someone, it was usually successful and when it wasn’t the necromancers kept on trying.
This was not good. If Jacob was being hunted by a Messifican there was no way, he would be able to get to the safety of the capital city in time before the Messifican tracked him down. The city was a safe place for everyone because of the incredibly powerful police force that seemed to see everything. They ruled the city and protected it from any threats. Killing within the city was strictly forbidden and even Messificans fear the rule of the police.
Letting the hood flop over to over the skeleton’s boney face once again, Jacob continued on his journey towards the city. His mind raced about all the possibilities. His master wasn’t going to come, and neither would his peers in the tower. They regarded him as the powerful personal apprentice of the wizard and a small number of them saw him as their leader, but none of them knew where he was. In fact, they thought he was in the direct opposite area of the world, in a rainforest. He hadn't told them for a couple of reasons. First, they would have tried to get him to stay or at least take one of them with him. Second, he was on a mission. He had heard of the turmoil within the great plains across the desert. The different clans there would offer him power, money, and food if he signed up to help them in their war effort. Instead, he was stuck here in the blasted desert without a speck of security.
Jacob hated it, he hated all of this. Usually, he had servants and maids to do whatever he wanted. He had a decent amount of money from his allowance as a tower wizard. But he had to be greedy, he had to go and purchase a trip to the plains in pursuit of more power.
Jacob gritted his teeth together and clenched his fists. He would get through this and come out stronger than ever. He knew it.