Tense. Reuben felt tenser than he ever had before. He looked around the group of guards that encircled them, wondering if anyone would say anything. If anything would change. Nothing did, of course. The statement had already been issued
Greyson on the other hand was a typhoon of emotions. Anger, hatred, shock, shame, excitement. The image of the boy beating him to the ground burned into his mind and he constantly wanted to turn around and end him. A dozen rocks straight through his ribs, maybe finish off the guards too. Yet… he couldn’t. He had agreed to the duel, he had given his own word. Now as much as he despised the outcome- he would respect it- for now. Should the boy turn out to not have any affinity for magic… then he would have his revenge. .
“You’re not getting cold feet now, are you?” Greyson asked, snapping his head back to stare piercingly into Reuben’s eyes. There was still a sticky stain of blood coating the bottom half of his face. Reuben wasn’t much better off either. The two looked like they had been dragged through maroon mud.
Reuben stood his ground, assuring him, “Of course I’m not. Let’s go.”
Then they began walking once more, approaching the shack covered hill in front of them. As they continued, Reuben continued wondering what would happen next. He had beaten Greyson and the sorcerer said he would teach him magic, but would he? What if it was a trick? What if something in Greyson had snapped?
Somehow the silence was more terrifying than anything prior. All the rage and beatings were nothing compared to the silence, to the unknown.
Behind him the guards began moving and coming after them. As they passed over the bridge and through the gate into town, the guards began dispersing. They all moved away until all that's left was Captain Jacobs. He stood there silently, watching Reuben go, wondering if he should do anything. Hell, he had to wonder if he even could do anything.
Before he could settle on a decision or a course of action, the two of them disappeared into the small wooden shack situated at the bottom of town. Jacobs watched as the door closed shut and slid into place. He sighed. He could stay for a minute, just to ensure nothing happened.
The door closed. The shack was now a cage around Reuben. If Greyson was going to do something, if he was going to hurt him, this would be the time for it. Reuben didn’t leave his guard down for a second.
Instead Greyson merely began rummaging through his shack. Reuben’s hand reached for his pole as he saw Greyson grab the hilt of his saber.
A moment later Greyson merely moved the saber behind him as he began moving around pillows and blankets. He grunted and continued searching through cupboards and in the corners of the shack. Finally he began peeking under loose planks of wood.
“What are you looking for?” Reuben asked.
“This,” Greyson replied, digging out a chunk of crystal that had been lodged in a thick clump of dirt under the table. Each time he would shake and sift dirt off its smooth sides, the crystal shifted color and radiance as well as seeming to change in texture and smoothness.
It was something that Reuben had never seen before. He stared for another few seconds before asking, “What is that?”
Once it was completely clean, Greyson set it down on the table. He idly rolled it around under his finger causing it to flash more colors of red, green, purple, and a dozen other colors each time the light hit it in a new angle.
Sighing at the crystal, Greyson gave up on playing with it. He picked it up once again and set it down in front of Reuben.
Finally the sorcerer asked, “You really don’t know anything about magic, do you? I suppose you wouldn’t, being a little villager. It’s called sezerite. They mine it from deep under some mountains to the north. It’s used to test magic abilities, mostly by academies or personal teachers.”
Reuben reached out for it, but Greyson snatched it back, saying, “Most sorcerers develop their powers early. They have some sort of- accident or incident. Blowing away some sand, setting an animal on fire, flying into the air. Who knows. You though? You’ve had no such incident. That’s a bad sign, a very bad sign.”
Yet one that was filling Greyson with anticipatory glee. One test, one failure. Then it was over.
A wave of dread came over Reuben. He had no idea that was a thing, and certainly had never experienced it. He cut in, “You said most sorcerers, not all.”
Greyson chuckled at the comment and said, “True. I didn’t either, in fact. Still, if this little test doesn’t work then well… regardless of your victory it’ll mean nothing. I’ll have no obligation to teach you.”
There was a small smile over Greyson’s face as he considered this.
“Just tell me what I need to do, damn it. I want to get started as soon as possible!” Reuben cut in, growing tired of Greyson toying with him. He snatched the rock from his hands and held onto it. He staggered for a second, it seemed to be both hot and cold, hard and soft.
A foul look came over Greyson’s face as the boy stole his rock. Slowly the look faded and Greyson admitted, “I’m not entirely sure. I can hardly remember where I got it, let alone how to use it. From what I remember you just… focus on it.”
“Focus on it? How? What’s that even mean?” Reuben replied, baffled by the bizarre stone in front of him.
“Like this,” Greyson replied, waving his hand over the stone. As he did it changed into various shapes after one another. It was a cube, a point, a sphere. When Greyson stopped moving his palm, the rock once again fell into a familiar earthly mass.
Reuben watched, then asked, “So that’s it? I just have to change its shape?”
“Not exactly,” Greyson cut in. “It can do dozens of different things depending on what
type of sorcerer you could be. It can heat up, change colors, shatter, blow it away, condensate, freeze, who knows.”
That made things even more complicated, great. Regardless, Reuben had come too far to give up because of a stupid rock. He… he could do this.
So he grabbed the stone once again, letting it rest in his hands. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on it as much as possible. He imagined it in his mind, he imagined it changing shape, catching on fire, exploding, dozens of things. Yet nothing was happening. He felt it sitting in his palm in its natural form.
“Nothing’s happening,” Greyson remarked, and Reuben could hear the glee in his voice.
Damn him, Reuben thought. Damn it all. He couldn’t fail now. He couldn’t have done all
of this for this nothing. He couldn’t accept that. It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t! He felt the rock still sitting there lamely. His anxiety and frustration only grew. Change! Change you damn rock! Do something! Anything! Change! Change! Ch-
“Reuben!” Greyson shouted.
Suddenly his eyes shot open and he felt the rock fall- fly even, from his hands and hit the ground. When he looked down he saw the crystal had completely shifted form. Where before it was like a jagged rock now it was a hundred different spikes jutting out in various directions and curving around one another.
Reuben couldn’t stop his hand. It was as if he was acting on instinct. An action he had repeated a thousand times prior. He looked down at the crystal and held out his hand once more. He felt his arm tense and his heart beat faster as the crystal slowly began returning to its original form as if it had never been changed. Slowly it morphed and shifted once again, becoming whatever shape Reuben desired.
At last Reuben realized Greyson wasn’t saying anything. He looked up and saw Greyson’s face a mix of unpleasant emotions. He let out a long pained sigh and admitted, “So you’re a geomance. Just like me. Incredible.”
“I guess it’ll be even easier to prove when I grow stronger than you, huh?” Reuben couldn’t help but remark.
There was no amusement on Greyson’s face. He stood up, and rushed towards Reuben, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. Reuben went to fight back, but Greyson merely began talking rather than attack.
“You were nothing to me. An everyday annoyance, a thick chunk of excrement I couldn’t scrape off my shoe. No matter what you kept coming back, so damn determined that you managed to fight me. I kept asking myself for what? What was the point? You weren’t even a sorcerer. You were nothing.”
He looked over at the rock as it slowly shifted back to its original form once more. He looked back to the boy in his hand and said, “Now, you’re something. Something small, unrefined, still never going to grow into a damn thing, but you’re something. Something I agreed to tend to and train. So I’ll ask you once and just once, are you really committed to that dream of yours, boy?”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Meeting the gaze of the terrifying man still holding him by his shirt, Reuben scoffed and said, “Of course I am. Do you really think I came all this way to give up now? I told you I’ll become the strongest sorcerer and I mean it. So now it’s your turn to uphold your end of this deal. Teach me magic.”
Those black eyes stared ahead so intensely that Reuben wondered if they would burn through his skull. Instead Greyson’s face shifted as his mouth opened to say, “Very well. Let’s go back outside and see what you can actually do.”
They had walked some distance from the town towards a thick forest that curved around the town and stretched for as far as the eye could see. Reuben took in all the sights. The walled town behind him with the fort on the top, and the various paths stretching in all directions. Being this close he couldn’t help but think of a beast lurking nearby. Then he remembered Greyson there, he would be f- No! It didn’t matter. He could… he could handle himself.
“Now what?” Reuben asked, growing apprehensive of his own rising thoughts. He wanted to get to his lessons as quickly as possible.
Greyson responded, “Magic is controlling the world around you. Taking your environment and forcing it to do your bidding. I want you to show me what you can do. I want you to force the earth around you to follow your command. To make it bend to your will, convince the world you’re as strong as you keep preaching.”
For once Greyson felt the first tinge of excitement. So the boy had the potential to truly be a sorcerer? He still hated him, but now he at least had something to work with. Something to entertain himself with. For the first time ever he truly wanted to see what Reuben could accomplish, what he would be able to do with his newfound magical abilities. The boy had been a constant nuisance he’d grown to despise, but he had come this far- and he was now confirmed to have magical powers. It was time to see what he was truly capable of.
Contrary to Greyson, Reuben felt anxious. He didn’t understand what he was meant to do. He awkwardly held out his hands and tried to move the ground. He imagined the soil being shot into the air the same way Greyson was able back at the village. He imagined it breaking into pieces, shifting apart, turning to mud, anything.
As the seconds passed by, Greyson was slowly growing disappointed. He wasn’t angry or upset, just gradually underwhelmed. He sighed, maybe there wasn’t anything to the kid after all. He needed to stop letting him get his hopes up.
“Nothing’s happening, kid. You’ve got another minute to impress me with something,” Greyson warned him.
“I can see that, damn it! Why don’t you give some actual instruction rather then just telling me what to do?” he yelled.
“Because I’m not some academic teacher or instructor. You’re the one who followed after me claiming you had power. So show me! Show me something then I’ll begin your first real lesson!” When Greyson yelled, the earth itself shifted ever so slightly as if to flex his own personal prowess. Reuben knew if he didn’t do something quick, he would be subjected to his might.
Damn it! He could feel the sweat on his forehead as he struggled to do… anything. Nothing was happening to the stretch of land in front of him. He had been able to move the rock before so why couldn’t he do anything now?
Was he that stupid? He had moved a small rock and now he was what- trying to shake the entire earth? No, that was too bold even for him, he had to admit it. Instead he crouched down and started digging at the dirt underneath him. He ripped out a small chunk and rolled it into a ball the size of his eye.
Deep in Reuben’s soul he could feel the ball as it seemed to become a part of him. He absorbed it in some way he could never describe, an alien feeling entirely unlike anything he had ever felt before. Slowly the ball began to shake and crumple under his control, then he reformed it into the dirty sphere from before.
“A ball of dirt?” Greyson asked, incredulous.
Reuben argued, “It was my first time ever using powers okay? In a few days it’ll be a stone the size of your damn head.”
Stepping in front of the boy, Greyson asked, “Do you know what I did the first time my powers manifested? My first act as a new man?”
Before Reuben could reply, Greyson shot his hand forward and clenched his open palm into a fist. The ground in front of them collapsed in on itself and was shoved into the shape of a head sized stone- much like the one Reuben threatened Greyson with. The stone lifted out of the hole and Greyson swung his arm to the left, sending it flying into a nearby tree and taking a branch clean off.
“Oftentimes a sorcerer’s first act of magic is a good demonstration of where they’ll end up,” Greyson said, matter of factly. He sighed to himself, thinking about how he had got roped into training such a weak arrogant son of a bitch.
“Did you feel anything at least? Some sort of connection?”
Nodding, Reuben replied, “I did. I could feel the dirt as a part of me. It seemed to take up some kind of space in… me, but not in me.”
“Good, that’s a start at least, even if it’s a damn pathetic one,” Greyson grumbled.
Before Reuben could continue to object or defend himself, Greyson began, “Training
magic is a lot like training a muscle. Each time you train it breaks your soul down a bit, and your soul grows stronger. This lets you put out more energy at a time. The size of your soul can be determined by your first use of magic- something we just saw, didn’t we?”
He let that hang in the air once again, before continuing, “Despite magic being controlled by our souls, it isn’t something our soul really knows how to do”
That made no sense for Reuben. He cut in, “Then how… does it do it? If it doesn’t know
how to do it then why-”
Greyson snapped back, “Damn if I know, and don’t interrupt again. It would be like using your feet to paint. Can someone do it? Maybe, some could, some couldn’t. That’s why only about one in a thousand or ten thousand people are sorcerers- I forget the number. The point is, your soul has to get very familiar with specific actions to really use magic. Repetition of the same movement thousands of times until you can do it on instinct without a second thought. That’s what a spell is defined as. Something you can do with the wave of a hand or a burst of movement.”
The lecture stopped for a few seconds and Reuben asked, “So was me moving that rock a spell?”
“Not exactly. It was more of a raw output of your energy. Imagine running at a rock and getting it to flip over rather than lifting it. Instead what we’ll work on is the most basic geomancy spell- throw.”
For a demonstration, Greyson brought another chunk of earth from the ground and sent it flying a couple dozen feet through the air without ever touching it.
He turned and said, “Most of the names are fairly self explanatory. Any other questions or are you ready to start?”
“Just one,” Reuben replied. “Those hand movements. Are they required or specific- how do they work?”
“They’re just a guide for your soul. A deeper connection, an anchor, whatever you want to call it. It’s like using your arm as a command. You squeeze your hand really hard? You’re telling your soul to squeeze the rock in front of you really hard. It’s not specific- just whatever you feel fits.”
Reuben replied, “I see. Well, I’m ready then. Show me how to do the spell.”
Laughing to himself, Greyson said, “First there’s a few things you’ll have to do. I need you to get a rock- sorry, a pebble- out of the ground on your own- without breaking it, then you move it in the direction you want. That’s it. Easiest spell there is.”
Not wasting any time, Reuben shot his hand over the ground, and yanked upwards. He imagined a small piece of earth ripping outwards and rushing up to him he-
The ground fizzled out as dust and dirt puffed into different directions. He was left with a small pile of soil that had collapsed on top of itself.
“What the hell was that?” Reuben demanded. He repeated the movement again, only for the same result. A pathetic puff of dirt that did little more than shatter into a smaller puff of dirt.
Accepting his job as a teacher- for now at least, Greyson explained, “Your power is too unfocused. You’ve never tried to use it before- and now it’s leaking out of you. Damn it. Guess we’ll have to start at square zero. Just rip out the chunk and work on shaping it again. Shake it, change its form, go crazy.”
As persistent as ever, Reuben ignored the suggestion and once again tried to forcefully rip the rock out of the ground, only for another pathetic display to occur. He finally resigned and manually ripped a ball of dirt out of the ground.
For the next hour Reuben idly went to work on the ball. He would slowly shift it in one direction, push down on it to create a hole in the middle, even flattening it a few times only to push it back into a ball. As he worked, he began feeling a deep sense of fatigue coming over him. It was a strange sort of mental fog that made thinking difficult, and even his vision seemed dull.
“What’s going on? Why am I so tired?” Reuben asked in a quiet voice. He blinked slowly and the effort felt difficult.
Greyston stared at the small lump of dirt he had been working with. That was a great question.
His growing disappointment aside, he explained, “You’re fatigued from using magic. Every sorcerer has a limit. Use too many spells in too short of a time span and it can drain you. Hell- it could even kill you if you really went all out.”
A look of worry overcame Reuben and Greyson laughed before assuring him, “Don’t worry, you’d know if you were to that point. You’d probably go blind before that. No, this has a much more mundane cure.”
As Greyson turned to his back, Reuben realized that he had taken a bag from inside the shack. He set it down on the ground to reveal two apples, some bread, and a piece of ham. He handed Reuben a flask of water.
Even eating was a bit of an effort, but Reuben pushed through. The effects were mind blowing. The moment he began to chew, the second he drank, he could feel his strength coming back to him. With each bite and sip he felt more and more vigorous. By the time he had finished his bread, he felt like he was fitter than he had ever been.
“Who taught you?” Reuben asked as he finished off his apple. It was the first piece of conversation since they had begun having their dinner.
“No one,” Greyson replied, and said nothing else.
Reuben continued, “Then how did you learn magic?”
“In the woods,” Greyson replied. Before Reuben could continue, he suggested, “I think you should work on that ball again. Try rolling a bigger one this time.”
“Got it,” Reuben replied, dropping the subject. He didn’t need to know anything about Greyson in order to progress as a sorcerer. If he didn’t want to tell him anything then he wouldn’t ask. He knew how annoying prying minds could be.
This time Reuben rolled a fist sized ball of dirt. He felt some kind of resistance as he took it on, but slowly he managed to wrap a part of himself around it. Once again he continued to move it around, struggling slightly more. The sum of his efforts was to get it to teeter or shake a bit, but it was a start.
Wanting to test himself, Reuben began pulling on the lump he had rolled. He urged it to begin moving up towards his hand. As he did he felt the rock slowly slipping from his control, collapsing in on itself.
“No…” Reuben whispered to himself. Clinging to the pile of dirt seemed like a life or death challenge. He continued forcing it closer to his hand, refusing to let it go. He had to prove Greyson wrong. His first act had been a fluke. He was stronger than this.
Finally he felt the dirt against his palm. Two bits of the mass had fallen to the ground in a sad pile, but the majority had stayed intact and come towards him.
“I wonder…” Reuben murmured to himself. He grabbed the ball and held it on his right palm. Then he held his left hand in front of it, and swung his palm outwards in front of him in an attempt to send the rock flying forward.
Instead it just collapsed in on itself and slowly slid down Reuben’s hand and back down to the ground he had pulled it from.
Having watched the entire display, Greyson advised him, “One step at a time, boy. One step at a time. Let’s try pulling one from the ground this time.”