David jolted awake, his heart pounding, threatening to burst. His body quivered with fear as the last vestiges of the dream faded, a familiar sensation that had become a part of his nightly routine.
Getting himself under control took him a few minutes, and he was extremely thankful that his new apprenticeship under Rafael Toro, the Blazing Torch, had granted him personal quarters in the Tower district.
His old roommates, indifferent to his nightmares, were often irritated when he disturbed their sleep. Being able to take some time to calm himself in the morning without the fear of disturbing others was a true blessing.
Having regained his breath, David took a moment to steady his footing, careful not to fall since his limbs still occasionally shook, and got to the kitchenette, where a spark of magic was enough to activate the boiler.
As he prepared his morning tea, memories of his mother flooded his mind. She was always the first one up, ensuring a hearty breakfast was ready for the family. His last letter, filled with excitement about his new apprenticeship, was his way of reassuring her. He knew she would worry if she sensed even a hint of hesitance in his words.
He hadn’t seen her in two years, not since he left Mondos in the northeast of Hetnia, but his continued success in his chosen career was a source of pride for the entire family.
Despite the hefty price his family had to pay for his acceptance at Lamprey Port’s magic tower, even with Mage Thorn’s recommendation, David was determined to give his best. He felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude, which fueled his dedication.
Still, he had been careful to omit anything about his current condition. His master had noticed and prescribed him a tincture to sleep dreamlessly, but it hadn’t done much.
David was almost sure it was because what woke him up so abruptly wasn’t just nightmares. Ever since getting his first Blessing, he had seen flashes and, at times, longer scenes in his dreams that would regularly play out in his life at a later time. He had no idea prior to their coming whether that was on the same day or a year later, but he had never been wrong yet.
Prophecy was an esoteric and coveted power. It was usually thought to belong to High Priests and Paladins who had mastered Holy Magic. Still, the Tower’s library contained reports of Druids and even regular mages who specialized in divinations receiving some.
David didn’t know why his were so violent or why they happened without his input, but they had never steered him wrong, and if being successful meant not getting enough sleep and depending on reinvigorating draughts, he’d pay the fee every time.
It was how he had managed to snag his apprenticeship, after all. He wasn’t a monstrously talented mage like Kieara, nor had he the connections in high society Victor had. But David had known the Blazing Torch would be looking for an apprentice in Lamprey Port a month before the man arrived and had diligently practiced his fire magic until the tips of his fingers were severely burned every day.
The man believed him to be a great talent in his preferred field, and David would do his best to uphold that image as long as possible. Learning under an Expert wasn’t something that happened often to Apprentices, especially not ones from the boonies like him.
This last vision, however, had repeated insistently for the previous month. The sight of the town walls bursting into a shower of debris. Invisible figures marching through the breach. A flash of steel.
Usually, visions only came to him more than once if he hadn’t done enough to change them. But no matter how much he trained. No matter his deliberate decision to always be far from the gates, he always found himself there when something attacked.
And wasn’t that frightening? Never before had anything escaped his prophetic power. Sometimes, things were messy enough that he couldn’t understand everything, but all elements were always there. This time, it was as if something was blocking his gaze.
It had never happened before, and it scared him. He couldn’t prepare if he didn’t know what was coming.
Of course, in the following weeks, he had learned the likely cause. The Hero of the Light had gone mad. A man so powerful he had personally led Haylich’s forces in the fight against the Void, rumored to have reached heights only the most powerful in the kingdom’s history had touched. And he had decided to throw it all away.
Now, David wasn’t naive enough to believe all the trash the criers yelled on the streets. Rather than the man deciding one day to kill his fiancee and declare total war on his country, it was more likely that he had been preparing something of the sort for a while and had finally found a good excuse. At least, that was what his master believed, and David was inclined to agree. Still, the consequences were the same. In a lighting blitz, the rebel forces had conquered Alpar and Thelma, defeating and assimilating the local garrisons.
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There were whispers that he had been setting the slaves free as well, which David doubted was coming from the goodness of the man’s heart. Rather, he needed warm bodies to fight, and slaves didn’t need much convincing to join up with their freedom on the line.
Still, in the subsequent week after the news of Thelma’s fall had arrived, no attack had come. Thanks to his new position, David had been privy to a few meetings among the Tower’s top mages. Everyone agreed that the Hero was consolidating his army and desperately training them to achieve some sort of competence since he couldn’t count on surprising his enemies again.
The best mages of Lamprey Port all agreed that an attack was likely in the coming days, but also that they’d face a ragtag army completely dependent on the Hero to fight any powerhouses.
While that was a viable strategy against smaller towns like Thelma, which apparently only had a couple of solid fighters, it wouldn’t work with them.
But if that’s true, why do I keep seeing them breaching the walls in my dreams?
Without the visions, David would have been reassured of the town’s ability to defend itself. With the Navy detachment and the two garrisons residing within, Lamprey Port was a tough nut to crack, and even pirates from Hammerfest knew better than to try their luck here. There hadn't been a significant challenge to its defenses for almost a century since the time the mermish Pirate King Blob the Horrible was defeated.
The Hero would no doubt be able to kill many by himself. But one man would never win an entire battle by himself. That only happened in legends. It was just common sense.
And yet, David continued to see his demise.
Being Lord Toro’s apprentice, he would be required to stand alongside his master in case the man was needed to defend the town.
It was considered a safe position, as they’d be powering the wards while the riflemen and cannoneers eliminated the enemies safely.
David was sure it would not go as planned. He had tried to express his worry to his master, but the man had dismissed him with a few words, apparently not that worried.
The Blazing Torch had fought against the Incursion, so he should know how strong the Hero was. If he believed their defenses would be enough, David couldn’t say anything to convince him otherwise.
As the light of the dawn finally peeked out of his curtains, he set down his cup and finished dressing for the day. No matter his worries, he still needed to attend classes and see his master. He had long since promised himself he’d not allow his visions to get in the way of his career, and this wasn’t any different.
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The Tower jutted above the surrounding buildings enough to be visible even from the Darkwood. It was the first thing David had seen of Lamprey Port, and to this day, it always made his heart skip a beat whenever he laid his eyes on it.
This was a real Magic Tower. Not the pale imitation of the surrounding towns, where squat buildings housed a dozen Apprentices and called themselves Towers because no one else cared to correct them.
There was a Master here, leading hundreds of mages to greater heights. Lamprey Port had been nothing but a fishing village when Eloise The Silver Wind had decided to set roots here and built the Tower with her magic, and now it served as the center of all things magical in southeast Hetnia. More, since the Void had scoured the eastern towns from the coast. Only Hassel and Treon had more apprentices, mostly due to their political importance, while Volten was its equal.
The Tower was built of shimmering, crystalline white stone, with thousands of runic circles carved on its surface. Some gave it stability, protecting it from anything from harsh winter winds to cannon fire, while others were more esoteric, said to enhance the learning abilities of all who studied within.
David didn’t know if that was true, but he always relaxed whenever he stepped inside.
Today, he was scheduled to attend a transfiguration class taught by Lord Eldric, a wizened old mage renowned for his expertise in manipulating matter. The classroom was on the tower's lower levels, where the walls were lined with ancient tapestries depicting magical feats of the past, giving the space an air of deep historical significance.
As David entered the room, he noted the students already seated, their expressions ranging from eager anticipation to the stoic determination of those who had experienced the difficulties of mastering such complex magic again and again. The old wizard was known to fail about fifty percent of his class every time.
He took his place among them, setting aside his lingering anxieties to focus on the lesson ahead.
Master Eldric began the class with a gentle, authoritative voice, his hair as white as the chalk he held. “Good morning class. Today, we will explore how matter regresses to its original form at varying speeds depending on the tier of the spell used," he explained, his hand sweeping across the blackboard, filling it with diagrams and equations.
"For instance," he continued, tapping his finger on a chart, “a Cantrip, unofficially considered to be tier zero, will last only a minute. Apprentice spells of the first tier will maintain the transfiguration for six minutes. A Journeyman spell, the second tier, can last up to thirty. And an Expert spell, our third tier, will hold the change for one hundred and thirty-eight minutes. This is because the differing tiers have a more significant effect on the world. They each grasp more of the concept the spell means to change them to, getting closer to the ideal. For example, a Master tier transfiguration can last up to six hundred and six minutes, but at that point, mages are capable of transmutation, which is a deeper, more permanent field.”
David found his thoughts drifting despite the fascinating subject matter. His recent visions intruded upon his concentration, the images of unseen soldiers breaching the city walls lingering in his mind. He wrestled with the implications, trying to understand how they could escape his sight and what their invisibility might mean.
He doubted it was as easy as them being truly invisible. It’d be a frightening force, one that couldn’t be seen, but he knew that if that were the case, he would have noticed something. Tracks, at least. Not to mention that getting enough Invisibility Cloaks or Rings of Non-detection to an entire army would bankrupt a duchy.
No, there was another reason, and he couldn’t rest until he understood it.
Professor Eldric seemed to notice his distraction, his sharp eyes locking onto David's. "Mr. Longs, can you tell us why it is crucial to understand the duration of these effects in a practical application?" he asked sharply.
David blinked in surprise, gathering his wits, “Transfigured food is especially dangerous if ingested, as it might revert to an inedible state in the stomach or even in the blood if the spell can hold for that long. It is known to be a subtle way of poisoning, as it can escape most methods of detection.”
The old man stared at him for a moment longer before nodding, “Precisely, Mr. Longs. Remember that what most consider weaknesses can always become strengths if one is crafty enough.”
The lesson continued uninterrupted, but David’s internal conflict didn’t subside. He couldn’t seem to find a way to change things, and he would die unless he changed the future.
Of course, that was when the bells started ringing.