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The Crown of the First King
Flashback 2: First Spell

Flashback 2: First Spell

ZENGHI – AGE 12 - MARAGON’S TOWER, HAVIK, TRASTONIA

6TH SYLVANISHAE, SUMMER, 838 PBM

“Today we will test your knowledge. And if you pass, then we will move to the next phase of your training,” began Maragon. He looked at his young apprentice kneeling on the mat before him. It was still very early in the morning and Zenghi looked tired. Beside Maragon, Brother Turin smiled at the young boy encouragingly.

‘I do not much like early mornings. I do not much like kneeling either. But if I prove I know your silly magick lore, we progress to the next stage of actual magick.’

“I understand.” replied Zenghi, with the minimum level of formality to avoid being harshly rebuked. He glanced at his burned right hand. The only reminder on his body of that rather eventful time he tried to cast for the first time in Maragon’s presence. Brother Turin had offered to heal the scars, but Zenghi declined. The scars were not a reminder of failure for Zenghi. Far from it. They reminded him of the risks one must take to attain greatness.

“What are the two sources of magick?” asked Maragon.

‘This is your test? I could have answered this at 6.’

“Arcane,” Zenghi replied, “which is for those who have magick within themselves, and are the focal point for the power. Divine is for those who pray to a God, and that being is the one who is powerful.” Zenghi’s tone left no doubt who he thought was the better of the two.

“Correct,” replied Maragon. “But do not underestimate the power of the divine. You may one day become very powerful, but you are still nothing compared to the power of a God.”

“The Gods are powerful, and hard to understand indeed. Only a very small percentage of a church’s priests will ever have the gift to channel the power of their God into prayers. They are truly blessed. You should not ever underestimate them,” added Brother Turin.

‘Sure Brother Turin. Remind us how special you are. Really, you are now just old. You are the past and I will be the future.’

“We teach so that others may be better than we were,” added Brother Turin. Maragon nodded his agreement to that point, then continued with the lesson.

“Name at least four types of Arcane casters?” asked Maragon.

‘A good question. I must understand all the types if I am to beat them.’

“The most powerful type are Mages,” replied Zenghi, “for only the mage can learn and cast any magic. He accesses the magickal energies in the things around him and inside him, and uses that to weave his spells. His only limit is how much he can learn, meaning his power could be supreme.”

Maragon nodded that Zenghi was correct, but added, “Mages are not the most powerful caster. They are the most diverse and flexible, but in terms of raw power, many of the others have less to learn to utilise their powers, and can obtain power in a more limited number of spheres more quickly than a Mage can.”

“The Seven has always had at least one Mage,” commented Brother Turin. “Their knowledge of the arcane is usually the strongest. And the Seven prides itself on using knowledge to solve problems.”

‘Being a mage might not be the easiest, but it is the road to being the most powerful. I don’t need to cut corners. But I will be the most powerful.’

“Sorcerers,” continued Zenghi, “are born with magick in their blood from some kind of connection to a powerful magickal being, be that fay, arcane, draconic, demonic or divine. Magick comes more easily to them, but they are limited in the powers they can learn. They can increase their powers by absorbing the souls of other powerful creatures, but I believe Mages can do that also if they are knowledgeable enough.”

“Do not ever even dream of such a thing,” warned Maragon sternly. “Sorcerers who harvest the essence from other magickal creatures may indeed become very powerful, but they also just as often die in the attempt. Merging souls with powerful magickal creatures who have recently been deceased is very dangerous. And even if you succeed, you often end up mentally unstable as well. The risks for a Mage are even worse, as their blood usually has no special ancestry in it” advised Maragon.

‘Usually has no special ancestry’. That is a strange thing to say. You taught me that Mages have no ancestral powers. Children of mages, while they may have great aptitude to be mages, will have no latent powers. So why did you say that? Do I have a special ancestry? Whatever the secret the Brother is in on it too.

“It is indeed very dangerous. We each must strive to maximise our potential, understanding that the effort to do this is immense. But we must not be too ambitious or we will destroy ourselves,” warned Brother Turin.

Maragon motioned for Zenghi to continue.

“Warlocks are willing to risk pacts with forbidden powers in order to unlock more magick understanding,” said Zenghi reverently. “This knowledge comes with risk and the Warlock may go mad.”

Zenghi sensed he had hit a raw nerve with Maragon, who looked like he was about to explode. Brother Turin calmed him though, with a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Brother Turin spoke instead.

“Warlocks are amongst the greatest peril to the soul of mortals that has ever existed. Never accept a pact offered by a demon or any other supernatural being. They always have their own motives and the deal they offer will never be the equal of what you are giving up. You must never consider such a thing,” preached the old priest.

‘OK. Both of you agree on that one. But is it just most people are not strong enough to resist the demon?’

“One more arcane caster type please,” requested Brother Turin. Maragon continued to seethe.

“High-Mages have access to magick in a higher, better form,” answered Zenghi, “The Archeron, who taught humans magick, elected to teach their followers normal magick, either because they did not know high-magick, or they wanted their children, the Ashar, to be cast down and defeated by the Merlos.”

“I see he has inherited your political views on things,” commented Brother Turin. “His voice but unmistakenly your words. Strange that you, of all people, would carry an axe to grind over that.”

‘Maragon hates the Merlos for enslaving the Ashar, who he sees as his people. Why is that hard to understand, priest?’

Zenghi continued, “This magick is more difficult to cast, but is in some ways better than non-high magick. Like if a non-high mage and a high mage try to counter each other’s spells. High Mages must choose carefully when to cast, as while their spells are more powerful, they are more tiring, meaning they are able to cast less. Most ancient races consider it a crime to share the secrets of High Magick.”

‘I have done your little test. We know my answers were right. Let us get on with the next stage of my training.’

“Well done. Your ability with the lore is satisfactory. You have passed the test. As a reward we will commence on the next phase of your training. Today, you are going to try and cast your first full spell.”

“This is an exciting day indeed,” added Brother Turin.

Zenghi considered this announcement.

You know I love new challenges. That is why you drag them out and test my patience. You know I am tired from staying up late reading through spell books and journals on the arcane. What you do not know is at least half of those books I am not supposed to have yet. You set this challenge first thing in the morning as you know this is when I am at my weakest. But I see lots of candles arrayed in a circle around us. If your challenge involves casting Fire then I will have plenty of magick source to draw from.

“As usual, you will need to stay calm and maintain your focus. This spell is more difficult than the simple cantrips we have been casting, but I think you are ready,” encouraged Maragon.”

This will not be my first spell, Master. Simply the first one we watch me cast together. I have all but mastered all the basic techniques from all 18 of the allowed spheres of magick, and even a few of the techniques from some of the others. My most powerful spell so far is the one I use to shroud my room so you do not know that I cast spells in there. Brother Turin sees my potential as no other does. That is why he has taught me the shroud spell, and helped me get some spell books you would never let me have, Maragon. But what even Brother Turin does not know is there are some notes on forbidden spheres within those books.

“I have picked a spell for today that I think should be a good building block from the skills you have already learned,” continued Maragon. “Do you think you are prepared?”

“We both know that I am, Master,” Zenghi replied. There was a slight tinge to the way he said the word Master these days that implied he did not really consider anyone to be his master.

“It is a fine line between confidence and arrogance, young Zenghi,” counselled Brother Turin. “The first can help lead to becoming accomplished in one’s craft. But the second is the path to ruin.”

‘You are not a Mage, Brother, so you do not understand.’

The aging priest smiled at Zenghi in way that almost suggested he had been listening to his thoughts. “I understand exactly what battles within you, boy. You are wise to speak to me of your struggles. May you continue to find my counsel enlightening.”

“And what spell do you think I have chosen for your test today?” interrupted Maragon, keen to get the lesson going.

‘My guess is a ‘Flame Arc’, because you love Fire spells. I also hope this is what it is. It or some other Fire spell is the only thing for which you have left me obvious targets from which to draw energy from..’

“I suspect that wooden training dummy is about to burn,” Zenghi replied, gesturing towards the stuffed training dummy roughly shaped like a man that was ‘standing’ about 10 metres away, the only other major object in their training space today.

Maragon nodded.

“But hopefully not the curtains?” Maragon gestured to the still singed curtains that hung over the small window in this room. They too had been burned in that failed spell, and while Maragon had protected his young apprenctice from the worst effects of the failed spell, several of the objects in the room had suffered flame damage. Maragon left the curtains here as a reminder of what happened to those who tried to do more than they were capable of with magick.

‘You think those remind me of my failure. You tell me that any fool with the talent can suck in large amounts of magickal energy and then lose control of a spell they are not skilled enough to cast. But I see the truth here. Those curtains are a reminder of how powerful I am, and how powerful I will be. The evils of this world are in for a rude shock when I am let loose upon them.’

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“I am here to heal your wounds if it does indeed go that way, my child,” offered Brother Turin. “You just focus on your path. I will ensure you do not come to harm. You are too special for that.”

‘Why is it Brother Turin always tells me I am special, yet Maragon goes out of his way to say that I am only gifted. It is like Brother Turin is assured of my grand destiny, but Maragon is not. I will show him. I will show all those who have ever doubted me.’

“Your reasoning is correct. I am training you for a very dangerous life. It is critical you can defend yourself”, replied Maragon. “Fire spells capture the balance you need to learn. They are an easy energy to channel, high damage potential, but some risk to the caster if you are either lazy or undisciplined and aggressive in your channeling. Flame longs to burn something. It does not much care if that is YOU or the intended target. That risk can make some casters panic and make mistakes. On the battlefield there is risk, so this is a good test or simulation for what casting on the battlefield will be like.”

“Nearly all your cantrips have very tight spell-weaves, but your best are in the fields of Fire, Illusion and incredibly, Meta-Magick, a sphere most casters struggle with until they are much more advanced,” continued Maragon.

‘Meta-magick. The magick which manipulates other magick. It is the difference between an idiot with a paint brush and true artist crafting magickal masterpieces. Of course I choose to master this sphere faster than others.’

“Those you have been weakest in are Nature and Enchantment,” commented Maragon, although there was no disappointment or judgement in his voice.

‘Those are not weaknesses. Those are just spheres I disdain compared to others. Nature is a pointless sphere if you ask me. Why try to subtly manipulate the natural world when I can manifest and manipulate the power of the elements? Why enchant others with my spells? Why enchant a weapon or armour? I prefer to directly influence and control everything with my own magick. Dependence on others or on items is a weakness’

“Given your penchant for trying to do more than you can,” continued Maragon, “but my wanting you to learn discipline, I deliberately picked a spell you could likely try to overcast – Flame Arc.”

“Part of the objective for this lesson is for you to just cast the spell I have asked for,” instructed Maragon. “There is no need to do anything more than what is required. Casting magick is often about using the smallest spell which will get the job done. I have personally slayed many casters who were trying to do some big grandiose spell which I never let them finish.”

‘But was the issue they cast too powerful a spell, or that they just did not channel their spell fast enough. I look forward to my first real combat. I bet I am just as fast to cast under the pressure of battle as I am here.’

‘As for my spell-weaves, Master, you do not realise how much I practice Meta-Magick. – I want to be a master at manipulating and changing the energies of magick itself. Start casting a Flame Arc, but as you weave and throw it, manipulate it into a Blade of Steel instead. Now the idiot fool I have thrown it at watches as the blade passes harmlessly through his Flame Ward and strikes him in the heart. As he dies his last thought was I have outsmarted him.

‘My weaves in Shadow and Necromancy are growing stronger too, but I fear I will never get to share that with you. Today is not a chance for me to learn restraint. Today is yet another chance for you to realise how good I have become.’

“I think it is very good that he shows such a broad base of knowledge across all the fields of magick. You never know which spell or aspect of magick may be required,” encouraged Brother Turin.

“Channelling is all about drawing magickal energies from within ourselves and the things around us, and then using that energy to shape our spells,” said Maragon, continuing with the lesson. “You have sufficient skill and magickal reserves to cast this spell completely from within you, so no components will be necessary”

‘Not necessary no. But they will be useful and it would be a waste not to use that energy. That is something you always preach Master. ‘Preserve your energies. They are your second most important resource other than your own blood.’

Zenghi commenced casting. He reached out for each of the candles and started siphoning power from each of their burning tips, the energy almost effortlessly flowing into him. And quickly.

“Be careful how much energy you draw. The more energy the harder the spell-weave may be to control.” Maragon counselled. Zenghi barely heard the warning, already moving his attention to the beginnings of his spell-weave.

‘I will cast your Flame Arc. But not the basic version you intend. I will cast a much more powerful version, and instead of a single orb of fire, I will conjure and throw two at the same time. Your dummy will be the first of many targets to feel the wrath of my magickal prowess.’

“Begin channelling. You will know immediately by the feel if it is working as you intend. With a water spell, you will feel the chill through your entire body. With this spell you will feel the warmth of sitting near a small bonfire, or perhaps a mildly warm bath.”

Zenghi commenced creating his spell-weave.

‘The heat is much warmer than that, Master. I am absorbing twice as much energy as you intended. And even now we can both see my skills are more than equal to the required spell-weaving.’

“His power level is already most remarkable,” praised Brother Turin. “He will make an excellent Champion one day.” Maragon shot the priest an irritated look, but Zenghi was too focused to see it.

Zenghi’s chanting and gesturing increased. Around Zenghi tendrils of flame began to gather and were quickly co-alesced into his first Orb. As he sealed and closed the orb it was clear there were still magickal tendrils floating around his body.

“Careful Zenghi. Those errant tendrils of flame could cause you a lot of harm if they escape the field of your casting,” warned Maragon.

‘They are not errant, Master. They are the materials for my second Orb. Behold my power.’

Zenghi continued to draw fiery energy from the candles, causing two of them to extinguish completely. But any loss of light was more than compensated by the large glowing orbs Zenghi had now sprung into existence.

“This is not necessary, Zenghi,” warned Maragon, a little frustration evident in his voice.

Zenghi ignored the warning, and focused only on his spell-weave. With almost perfect pronunciation of the Archeron language, and a similar level of mastery of the magickal gestures and movements required to control the magickal energy, his second orb was soon sealed and finished.

With a flourish that was more dramatic than purely necessary, Zenghi ‘grabbed’ both orbs in his magickal grip and flung them at the stationary dummy. He guided both Orbs in and they struck roughly side by side, catching the dummy in the chest and right shoulder.

Immediately both orbs burst and the dummy was covered in fiery magick. It burst into flames and once its straw innards were alight its doom was sealed. Zenghi walked closer to the doomed mannequin to revel in his might. He stared into the lifeless eyes of the dummy as it burned.

‘The first of many. I swear to the Gods I will be ending evil wherever I find it. I will not be swayed by calls for mercy, or by those who lack the will to do what must be done.’

He did not turn back to Maragon until the dummy was well and truly burned. He could hear quiet clapping coming from the direction of Brother Turin.

“Impressive,” Maragon admitted. “Your expertise is indeed impressive. Even moreso given your young age.”

Zenghi bathed in the praise from a mentor who was not prone to give it falsely. But it was to be short-lived.

“But we already know you are a gifted caster. Very few are more gifted, or as hard working. Your challenge as I have repeatedly warned, is you are undisciplined,” lectured Maragon. “Had this been a real battle, then you have over-spent magickal resources destroying this opponent. You may no longer have enough reserves for the next opponent, or the one after that. You rarely ever know if you will have further need of your magick after the current spell you are casting, so a wise caster always solves the problem with the smallest use of magick possible, maximising his reserves for whatever may come next.”

“Yes, Master. But as you said, you rarely know if you will have need of further magick. I knew here that I would not. So I instead focused on practicing a more difficult spell. I was simulating the scenario where I am required, in the heat of battle, to stretch myself and cast a spell that is beyond my normal limits,” Zenghi replied, feeling reasonably sure his argument was a well reasoned one. Maragon prided himself on being a man of reason rather than emotion. Zenghi had learned already that if you wished to disagree with him, you needed a sound argument.

“Perhaps. But you also defied my instructions. Always remember your place. I am the master and you are the student.” Maragon glared sternly at Zenghi, wanting to see a look that included both acceptance of this point and perhaps an acknowledgement of his error in judgement.

‘Okay Master. I will acknowledge your point. But I long for the day I make decisions for myself. I will only be held back by your limitations for so long.’

“Yes, Master,” Zenghi replied as solemnly as he could.

“You must let the boy walk his own path, Maragon,” counselled Brother Turin. “He is not you, and I sense strongly that his path will differ from yours. But he will be formidable.”

“Zenghi has incredible potential. And while that potential could be turned into a force capable of doing great good for the world, it could also be a force capable of causing much harm. Those with power carry an incredible responsibility to use it wisely,” replied Maragon.

“But today he has completed an important part in this training. And as is customary he has earned a reward. Because he openly disobeyed me he has also earned a punishment, although on the scales, the punishment will be minor. Today is a good and important day in his path,” acknowledged Maragon.

“What reward would you like?” asked Brother Turin, his eyes and whole face showing an eager excitement to know the answer.

‘A reward? Okay. What do I want? I want access to the spell-books you do not want me to see, Master. But would you give them to me?’

“I want access to the spell-books you keep hidden,” Zenghi asked, watching Maragon’s expression intently.

Brother Turin spun excitedly, clearly keen to see Maragon’s response.

‘Interesting that the Priest of Faylen did not condemn this request. I have been taught the Sun-God despises Dark Magick in all its forms. That should have been an instant refusal for the Brother.’

Maragon considered his response before speaking, but Zenghi could not tell if he was genuinely considering his answer, or only the way to frame it.

“It is important that in time you understand the forbidden spheres. You will likely be forced to face practitioners in those Arts after all. But you are too young for that knowledge right now. I have seen the hunger in you to consume all the knowledge on magick that I put in front of you. You would not be able to resist the urge to learn these magicks and add these skills to your own,” answered Maragon.

“Let me very clear about this. The Dark Magick spheres, those we call the forbidden spheres, are all linked to the Dark Gods themselves:

True Evil = Tzy’Lord, the Dread Magister

Necromancy = Cyrus, the Reaper of Souls

Darkness = Drezzim, the Goddess of the Night

Perversion = Saleercki, the Goddess of Secrets

Blood = Kazak’Ta, the Bloody Berzerker

Bestiality = Malar, the Corruptor of Nature

Technology = Jun’Kar, the Scourge of Science”

Maragon counted the Dark Gods off on his fingers as he spoke.

“And there are other powers such as Razilin’Tera who allow their followers to use these forbidden spheres as well. Using their magick will corrupt your soul over time,” Maragon continued. “But using these powers is also addictive. It feels different to normal magick, and it makes you want to use it again and again, until it takes hold over you and before you know it you are doing its bidding instead of the other way around.”

“You may make another request, or I will grant you access to books that will teach you about the forbidden spheres, but these will not be spell-books like you are looking for. There will be nothing in these tomes that will in anyway teach you how to cast spells or in anyway utilise magick from these spheres,” stated Maragon.

“What is your choice?” Maragon asked.

These are not what I really want, but as Maragon always says, ‘knowledge is power’.

“I’ll take the books,” Zenghi replied.

“Contractions!” rebuked Maragon. A common occurrence as Zenghi still regularly used contractions when he spoke, and even more in his thoughts.

“I will take the books,” corrected Zenghi.

“With permission, I would like to be involved in the selection process for these books,” requested Brother Turin. “There could be much in these tomes that offends my God. Perhaps I can help choose that which will cause the least offence.”

Maragon simply nodded his agreement.

“And for your punishment, you will prepare the evening meal and clean the kitchen afterwards for the next three days while Brother Turin remains with us. You will also undertake one additional weapons training session per day. You may choose whether that is with me or with Brother Turin.”

“A true mage of my power will have little need of skill with a mundane weapon of wood or steel,” complained Zenghi, clearly more perturbed by the combat training than the cooking and cleaning aspect of his punishment. “It is a waste of time that could be better spent on magickal training.”

“You must prepare for scenarios where you must fight without magick. Perhaps you are out of magickal reserves, perhaps you cannot cast for some other reason. Either way, there may be times when your survival could well depend on your skill with a ‘mundane’ weapon,” replied Margon. “It may be the weapon will not always be your contingency plan, but you must always have a secondary plan in case your first one is no longer an option.”

Maragon gestured to the slightly curved scabbard at his left hip. “You think I have not used this to save my life or that of those around me? I have trained very hard to master the use of this blade. The War Wizards of Cthrag Merlo are unequalled as a combination of Fighter and Mage. You would do well to learn from their example.”

Zenghi rolled his eyes.

‘I do NOT want to be a War Wizard. I will just turn the warriors I face into toads. No blade necessary, and certainly no reason to engage these dumb brutes in melee combat.’

“His path must be his own,” counselled Brother Turin.

“Stop encouraging him. You are supposed to be here to help temper his disobedience. Not embolden it,” countered Maragon.