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The Everburn Mage
21. What It Means to be a Mage

21. What It Means to be a Mage

Chapter 021

What It Means to be a Mage

Underneath the moon, two mages faced each other. One of fire and the other of wood.

Their duel would take place in a silent and lonely glade, where no creature’s life could be put in danger. Whoever it was to emerge victoriously, however, had little to do with their status as master or apprentice. What mattered most was how they sought to incorporate their magical abilities.

Rune toned out the sound of his pumping heartbeat. This was no time to be getting scared or growing doubtful. Such emotions had no place in a battle of life and death. Based on Jacob’s stern expression, it was obvious he intended not to pull any punches either. This final trial of his would most likely be his hardest yet.

And without any warning, it commenced.

Jacob was the first to act, his tome flying open and granting its caster with otherworldly, mythical strength. From an outsider’s point of view, the results of this match would’ve been obvious. Not only was Jacob an expert mage who participated in the cataclysmic seven-year-long war, but he also had a tome on his side, a catalyst of power. And who opposed him? A youngling mage with nine months' worth of training to his name. What hope would he have against such an opponent? Well, Rune was about to find out. Regardless of the outcome, he yearned to give his strict teacher a run for his money.

“Lignum Unguis!” Jacob shouted. Erecting out of the ground was a pair of overly large roots, bits of soil and grass stuck to the spindly appendages. Without having to hear another order, the spells shot for their target: a novice with an aptitude for fire.

Rune smirked. He’d seen his master use this attack before. They were of no concern to him. He remained in his position, waiting and waiting until they were only four or five paces from his location. It was then he decided to act. The first root lunged at him, shooting its sharpened tip at the boy like an earthen lance. Rune sidestepped out of the way, the force of the attack launching wind into his face that rocked back his blonde hair. The second decided to go for him at an angle, curving its trajectory leftward in an attempt to catch him by surprise. Not gonna work. At the last second, Rune’s upper body subtracted to the earth, ducking under the predatory root as it whizzed over his head. Before the spells had the chance to stage a counter, Rune sprung into action.

He disregarded the wooden serpents and pinpointed their controller, the mage who, like always, hadn’t a need to move from his spot. Supporting a cocky grin, Jacob summoned another root, and then another, and another. One by one the roots broke out of the primary layer of the planet’s crust, shooting nearly ten feet into the sky. Rune, though he never ceased his rapid advance, watched above him as the roots dove back down to Earth releasing a high-pitched screech.

Concentrating on his essence' flow the way he’d been taught, Rune drew a pair of magic circles. The glistening emblems brightened their arena, if not only for a second, and Rune felt the essence exit his body in order to conceive the spell he’d yet to paint into this world. Unlike the other of Jacob’s lessons, what made this trial so special was that he was allowed to make use of his magic spells. This was what the Value of Intent entailed. According to Jacob, whenever a mage activated a spell, they should have a clear and established goal in their mind. Something specific they’d want to accomplish. The more certain they were of this particular objective, the better their performance with magic would be.

Considering the circumstances, there was only one ambition Rune possessed that would go on to not only fuel his magic, but also the vigorous roar beckoning out his mouth. Anguis Mordeo left the palm of the mage’s extended hands and burnt to a crisp each of the roots aiming for him. Blistering flames engulfed the wood elemental spell, disintegrating the massive roots until they were no more for this realm. Ryas would be sure to welcome their ashes into the Eternal Plane. However, their destruction wasn’t what Rune was truly striving to achieve. Along with the creation of his fire there spread a huge wave of smoke. It covered everything, from the plants, to the trees, to the grass. In a matter of seconds, their entire battlefield of nature had transfigured into a warzone of smog.

Apologies, master. This was the only way I could think of.

How cruel was reality, Rune often pondered. Regardless of how much progress he’d made in his months of training, some feats just couldn’t be accomplished. And one of them just so happened to be defeating Jacob. None of the spells Rune had in his arsenal would be enough to defeat him, at least, not from a faraway distance. Jacob would merely have to defend himself with his vast array of wood-protection spells. So, logic dictated that if he couldn’t be stopped from a distance, Rune would have to get up close and personal. Then again, this also boasted its own series of risks. It would be just as dangerous for him as it would be for Jacob if they were to duel while they were near each other. However, this was where the smoke came into play. Jacob was a magic user but he was also human. Even his eyes would fail to perceive anything with the surplus of gray clouds blighting the forest. Rune would use his disadvantage and turn it into his key to victory. Whilst he remained invisible to his opponent, Rune would always know where Jacob was, courtesy of the radiating tome floating at his side.

His eyes locked onto his target on the shimmering beacon. He kicked dust into the air behind him as he rocketed towards Jacob without so much as pausing to think. He couldn’t let such a golden opportunity pass him by. His right eye glowed with magic. Essence flowed from his chest and ate at his knuckles. “Ardens Pugnis!” he shouted as his fists exploded with fire. Thousands of scorching punches were shot, Rune letting loose a barrage of crimson fists. The mage shrouded by dark, floating cotton was mercilessly knocked off his feet but Rune wouldn’t yet be satisfied. Swinging back his right fist, the apprentice ejected one last burning punch straight into his master’s gut, sending his master to the grass.

The duel was over.

Rune felt a rush of excitement. His last hurdle had been cleared. “I hope you can forgive me. I realize it was an unfair strategy,” he smirked, approaching the downed combatant. Extending a hand to him, he continued, “Though, in my defense, you did teach me that fairness carried little weight during the heat of a duel.”

“That I did,” Jacob’s voice answered as something tapped the back of his head. Astonished, the boy turned around only to see his master’s subdued yet all too proud smile. “A fine strategy it was. Had I been a novice I dare say you might have pulled it off.”

“H...How did you?”

“True mages can manipulate their tomes just as well as their magic.” Jacob held his hand out, his tome flying out the clearing smoke and into the holster strapped to his waist. Rune then offered a discouraging peek at the “mage” he had thought he defeated, coming to discover that it was only an amalgamation of roots made to resemble a humanoid appearance. With the spell deactivated, its shape self-destructed, the wooden mannequin devolving into a pathetic pile of twigs.

Rune sank his chin. “I failed, didn’t I?”

“Tonight’s trial wasn’t about whether or not you could win this duel, Young Ransford. Why, as if I’d let myself be bested by a squirt like you.”

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“Jeez, that makes me feel a whole lot better...”

“The Value of Intent is a skill every mage should cherish, my boy,” Jacob smiled. “And I’m delighted to say that you have taken to heart its teachings. As it stands, there’s nothing left for me to teach you. As far as I’m concerned, that Entrance Exam of yours should be a walk in the park.”

“You...you really mean it?” Rune beamed.

“I foresee a promising career as a combat mage in your future. Take pride in what you’ve accomplished.”

“Yes, sir! Thanks to you, I’ll be able to enlist in the military. And then...”

“About that,” Jacob interrupted. “Let’s talk on our way to the house. Duels really do take it out of me.”

“S...Sure! Whatever you say.”

They would take a dirt trail that winded and weaved with the natural shape of the forest. On either side of it stood large hedges where numerous woodland creatures would observe their human neighbor from within the safety of their thorny barrier. And during the day, they would be protected from the harsh, unforgiving sunlight by the towering trees and their cluttered canopies.

Rune walked beside his master who’d yet to say anything. Acknowledging his subtle, curiosity-induced glances, Jacob acknowledged his curious student with a grin and commented, “I doubt you’ll have to fret over having a rejection anymore. You've made magic your ally.” Rune stared at his bandaged right hand, memories of an inferno surfacing to bite him. “Remember my teachings, Young Ransford. They will serve you well in the trials ahead.”

“I will."

“That being said, if you...no, when you are to be accepted into the Military Academy, save yourself the trouble of returning here.”

“What? Why? You’re the reason I’ve got a shot now. It’d be selfish of me not to...”

“You’ll be with them for a long time, Rune. Four years, to be precise. Do you honestly believe you’d be the sole person doing something with their life?”

“I’m not following.”

“To put it frankly, you’ve inspired me, my young apprentice. Restored my faith in what a combat mage can be, if led down the right path,” Jacob smiled. “Perhaps if there were more men and women like you, Esteras truly can return to its former glory. The young fools graduating from the academy who have yet to be corrupted by politics and prejudice, why, I intend to mold them into something greater. To show them what it means to be a mage. As such, I think it’s necessary for me to resume my duties as a combat mage of the state.”

“Really?!”

“Believe me, it wasn’t an easy decision. When I think of the incompetence I’d be yet again forced to work with it makes me reconsider if this really is my calling. But then I remind myself, I shouldn’t be doing what’s best for me but what’s best for Esteras. Our home. I’ll heal the military from the inside out, and create a better future in a country ruled by maleficence.”

“Well, whatever happens, I wish you the best of luck, Colonel Andrew.”

“And I you, Novice Ransford,” he happily replied, patting his student's shoulder. “The world is changing, Rune. It’s up to men like you and me to help steer it towards a brighter tomorrow. For the sake of generations to come.”

A part of Rune felt guilty. His goal differed drastically from that of his master. He cared not for the world nor the people in it. Why should he? They treated him like a monster, despised him just for existing. Why should he have to suffer and sacrifice his own life just to save theirs, especially when they couldn’t even stand to look at him? No, nothing had changed for him. He’d graduate from the academy and stay in the military long enough to put his mother’s murderer behind bars. After that, he’d resign and retire himself to Primrose, choosing to spend the rest of his days with the only people who care for him. Leora, he wanted to see her so badly. His friend, someone who believed in him. He’d stay with her, rebuild his burned house, and live the life he was certain his mother would’ve longed for him

I’m sorry, Andrew. I’m not as good of a man as you think I am.

“Mage Bracket 9,” Jacob suddenly spoke.

“Wh...What?”

“I said, Mage Bracket 9. It's in Ponsetta City. Apparently, that place is riddled with crimes, magic-related or otherwise. Despite its fancy exterior, thieves and killers infect its shadows like rats. I can’t guarantee you’ll find the person you’re looking for there, but it will lead you on the right track.” Rune stuck close to his master as they delved inside a wall of thorns and entered the grounds of his hidden cottage veiled in seclusion. “When you graduate, you’ll be assigned a military branch. Perform at the top of your class, and the choice of where you’ll be sent off to is entirely yours. Not to mention, you’ll also be given a special, high-class tome to boot. A little extra incentive not to slack off with your studies.”

Rune nodded. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on getting shown up anyhow.”

“Of course, what was I thinking? You’ll be fine.”

“Still,” he continued as Jacob climbed the wooden steps of his front door. “Will I ever see you again? I mean...”

“We’ll both be combat mages, won’t we? If Ryas wills it, our paths will cross again.”

“And when I do see you next...”

“Show me the kind of mage you’ve turned into, Rune Ransford. I can hardly wait to find out.”

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Those were the last words he could remember of his master.

Sitting alone inside an empty office room of the Nautia military base, Rune pondered what Jacob might be going through. Thatch had proven to be a menace. A ruthless magic-user who cared not for morality or mercy, especially if it concerned Esterans, the people he despised the most. He imagined the Gyrakian to take complete joy in torturing whomever he captured. Watching the life leave their eyes along with the magic they extracted. Nobody should have to meet such a horrible end.

Currently, Rune had arrived at a crossroads. To risk damaging his status as a combat mage even more by helping James with another of his schemes, or to follow orders and wait out his period of suspension. During that time, he could be searching for more clues. Putting together leads on a new suspect. Not scattering about behind the backs of his superiors, practically asking to be stripped of his rank. But, if Jacob were here, he’d tell him to keep the best interests of the country in mind. That was what it meant to be a mage, was it not? Then again, Rune never admitted to being a proper mage. This wasn’t his responsibility. Why burden himself with such troubles? Jacob knew what he signed up for, same as Daze. They should be held responsible for the problems they themselves birthed by merely allowing James the time of day to sputter the rapid and continuous stream of verbal diarrhea he was known for. How could such a simple choice taunt him so greatly, he thought. What was he doing wrong?

Suddenly, flashing into his mind, was the face of the Gyrakian boy he had bested at Star Bell. And just like that, confidence and determination abandoned him. They shattered like glass and flooded down an endless river of doubt. His resolve had been broken.

“Excuse me.” Standing by the entrance was a dark-haired woman dressed in a standard, military uniform. She gave the mage a bow before going on to mention, “I hate to be of disturbance, but someone on the phone wishes to speak with you. Said it was important.”

“Y...Yes. Thank you."

This didn’t sound good. Major General Marx should have heard word of his exploits by now. Rune was more so surprised he hadn’t reached out to him sooner. Meanwhile, Fellman probably had an entire rant already rehearsed while Lukas and his gang of brain-dead lackeys were more than ready to flaunt his failure right into his face. To say he dreaded the conversation that was about to transpire would be a severe understatement.

Nevertheless, he begrudgingly tramped to a phone mounted on the wall and lifted the speaker to the side of his head. “Yes, sir. I’m here.”

“Rune?” asked the familiar voice. “Is that you?”

The mage froze, nearly dropping the phone out of his hands. “L...Leora?!”

“Thank Ryas! I was so worried. After what I read in the news I didn’t know what to think! I thought maybe you were...”

“The news over-exaggerates things, Leora. You know this. I assure you I’m...I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not!” her shouts belched out the speaker. “Listen, we need to talk.”

“Yeah, we do,” Rune answered solemnly. “You first...”