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One Who Masters Magic (End of First Draft)


Travis

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I agree--really well done. You have both of their reactions very natural. I was worried about how you'd handle Vekla opening up to Lamastus without it being corny or feeling forced, but you did it well.

 

It is a mindset, a discipline, and lifestyle

 

Either change the 'and' to 'a' or delete the comma after discipline, or add 'a' after 'and'.

 

"I really wouldn't know what to do if I were ordered to have fun," she said frankly

 

She used a contraction here.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Okay, you guys have caught up to me once more and work is really taking its toll, so posts will not be as frequent. That being said, I have just finished the first part of the next chapter. It also seems that there has been a little accounting error and that I accidentally had two chapters of the same number (25, I think). It has been fixed, so this is actually the 29th chapter, you did not lose one between the last post and this.

 

This is an interesting experiment for me. I don't typically do humor very well, but decided that the characters could use a bit of good ole fashioned feasting and making fun of each other all in good fun. Therefore, this chapter emerged. It serves multiple purposes: namely to serve as a sort of get together and bonding time for the main "good" characters. It also begins Lamastus' quest to show Vekla how to relax and have a good time. It was a fun but challenging chapter to write and I can only hope that it comes off well.

 

 

_______________

 

 

 

Chapter 29

 

Do the gods truly speak to us directly using literal words? Common wisdom says "no," as do most priests. Despite that, there is a great deal of personal testimony and anecdotal evidence in favor of such a thing.

 

— Sage Ku of Polart

 

Village of Thwrud

Krue Territory

 

Returning to Thwrud didn't quite feel like coming home for Syler, but it felt better than riding in to town that was openly hostile or subjected to occupation. Upon seeing him and his small escort arrive, the people bowed briefly, but didn't otherwise react or interrupt their business. As he was no longer in his resplendent armor, he guessed that he didn't cut quite the imposing figure that he had before.

 

There was a lot to do and he was eager to get back to the house he had inherited. He wanted to see Havert and introduce Karusa to Alltis. He had to start sending out messages to the other Kruish lords and see about arranging meetings with them. Preparations for war must be made. On top of that, he had to also begin preparing the village for the arrival of refugees and expected a less than enthusiastic response to that concept. It was going to be a long day, and it was already evening.

 

They didn't even get past the entrance before Torrvel was upon them welcoming them back and asking if there was anything they needed. Syler rolled his eyes and replied, "We are fine, just see about something nice and hot for dinner." The saledaur bowed and scuttled away.

 

"Syler!" Havert's excited voice came from the dining hall. "Yar back!" He ran up them with a lopsided grin on his face.

 

"Yes," said Syler, "we are back in mostly one piece."

 

He looked expectantly at the small group as they crowded into the entrance hall. As each of them filed in, his eyes took note of who was there and, more importantly, who wasn't. When the last of them were inside, he frowned. "Growald?" he asked hesitantly.

 

Syler shook his head. "He died holding the Angvardi off so the rest of us could escape."

 

Havert looked down for a moment, then raised his eyes. "At least he went out killin' those he hated. He woulda hated dying an old man."

 

Syler remembered that Havert had actually looked up to the grouchy old man and put a hand on his shoulder, "It was indeed a glorious death in battle. He prevented me from charging in and died in my place. In the end, he fulfilled his role as the Guard and as a true warrior."

 

Havert nodded, but said nothing more.

 

Alltis, who had arrived a little after her husband, took the news a little better. Her face showed the sadness she felt at her husband's loss, but it didn't remain long. She fell into her usual role as hostess and caretaker. Her eyes fixed on the new member of their group.

 

Syler noticed her gaze and said, "Alltis, this is my sister, Karusa."

 

Karusa looked uncomfortable with the attention, but in the crowded entrance with nowhere to go, she could not retreat without looking awkward. Alltis smiled and said, "I am Alltis, Havert's wife. He has said much about you and I am glad to finally meet you."

 

"Thank you," replied Karusa while trying to conceal her nervousness. Her anxiety had increased since entering the strange village full of even stranger people. When they actually arrived at what Delmonor had told her was Syler's estate, the realization of just what her brother had gotten himself into hit her. She had heard it before, but didn't quite believe it until she saw the huge mansion estate that was now Syler's. "I am sorry, but this is all a bit overwhelming."

 

"I understand," replied Alltis. "It was a little like that when we first arrived here. The Krue are pretty intimidating and we had a lot of surprises thrown at us."

 

Syler said, "I know, is a bit much, but in time, I think you will be just fine."

 

Lamastus, who was trying to slowly make his way around the gathering, said, "Yes, well, perhaps we might be able to make her more comfortable around, perhaps, a feast table?"

 

"Stop being so vueled, Angvardi," scorned Vekla.

 

"Hey," he said with a look of innocence on his face, "I just want something to eat."

 

Syler chuckled, "No, he is right, we are all hungry and I think if we were able talk over dinner, it would be a better place to make introductions and get to know each other better."

 

Havert clapped his hands together, "Great! Umm, we were just goin' ta eat ourselves."

 

"Come on," Alltis said to Karusa. "I will show you to the women's wing where you can pick out a room to stay in."

 

Karusa glanced at her brother who nodded before gesturing for her to follow the other woman. Havert tried to come with them, but was shooed away by his wife and instead started wandering around the halls looking a bit lost. He eventually found himself in the dining hall where food was being laid out and started nibbling on some sweets.

 

Syler insisted that Gombel, Relwind, and Pastal eat with them and stay the night. Relwind was the only one to object, politely telling him, through Vekla, that she needed to get home to her husband and children. Syler hadn't known she had a family and immediately wondered how many of the other warriors who died had families. He vowed to himself to inquire tomorrow and see if there was anything that he could do for the survivors.

 

After they had all had a chance to clean up and change into something not covered in the dust of their journeys, they met in the dining hall and were greeted by a hastily prepared but nonetheless robust feast. Havert was the first there as he had been nibbling on food since they split up. Syler was next as he felt that he needed to be there as the others came in so he wasted no time in getting ready. The others filed in one at a time. Much to his surprise, when Vekla came, she no longer wore the war paint that he had always seen her in and her hair was no longer braided, but was allowed to flow freely with only a single leather strip tying it back.

 

When they were all there, Syler lifted his glass of ale and said solemnly, "To all of you who have risked your lives and suffered hardships for my sake so that I might save my sister from the clutches of those who would oppress her. And to those who did not return, but instead gave their lives for a lord whom they did not know and a woman whom they had never met." He swallowed hard, then continued, "I will not forget them nor the sacrifices you have made for my sake."

 

They drank in silence and remained that way for a time as they began to eat. When he could no longer stand the silence, Lamastus stood up abruptly and said, "We did not fight the hordes of satorians to come back here and mope around! This is a happy time for our lord's sister has been safely returned to us. We should celebrate and make merry!"

 

Everyone simply stared at him in surprise. It was Vekla who eventually spoke saying, "Lamastus, you do realize that you just called your own people satorians, no?"

 

He smiled and said, "No, I didn't. I called the Angvardi satorians, not my people." He made a sweeping gesture, "My people are right here in this room, and, my dear Vekla, I do not see any scum like barbarians here. Well, except perhaps Delmonor, he is kind of scary like that, but I don't hold it against him."

 

The Krue warrior waved the mutton chop he had been eating as he exclaimed, "Many thanks for the compliment!"

 

Lamastus bowed theatrically as some of the others began chuckling and said, "Thank you, my barbarian friend." He looked across the table at Vekla and said, "So you see, I did not insult myself."

 

She glared at him in turn and shot back, "Who said we want you among our number?"

 

Lamastus pretended to clutch at an arrow in his heart and cried out, "Oh, my dear Vekla, you have wounded my very soul."

 

"I can wound a lot more than that if you would like," she replied.

 

"You betta be careful there, Lamastus," said Havert between gulps of ale. "It ain't very wise to anger a woman who can spit fire from her mouth and lightnin' from her fingertips."

 

"Well, my friend," countered Lamastus, "I will let you in on a secret."

 

"Oh, this I must hear," replied the redhead with rapt attention.

 

"You see," Lamastus began, "I happen to know you have got it all wrong." He pointed over to Vekla and said, "The fireballs may come out from her mouth, but the lightning definitely comes from her eyes. One glare and she could consume any mortal that walks on Teladia's fair lands, our lord Syler excepted, of course."

 

Everyone broke out laughing with Delmonor stomping his half full cup on the table sloshing ale on the table. Vekla's eyes darkened and she looked like she was about to hurl some real lightning across the table. Her expression only caused the others to laugh more. When she noticed they were laughing at her, her ears and cheeks turned pink and she started studying her plate.

 

"You should lighten up, Mistress Vekla," Delmonor said as he slapped her on the shoulder. "Drink some ale, it always makes me feel better." Her glare only sent him into another gale of laughter, but she did take a few sips from her cup.

 

"Poor Vekla," Bronwyn said with mock sympathy. "Maybe we should find a new target for a little bit, like Havert here."

 

Havert eyes widened as everyone looked at him. "Oh, umm, I was just fine with not bein' the center o' attention."

 

His wife slapped him and said, "Since when? Normally, I can't get you to shut up!"

 

"Well, it ain't my fault I have a lot ta say."

 

Lamastus said, "Fear not, my fire headed man, I don't pick on the helpless."

 

"Hey," Havert said as he pointed a drumstick at the Angvardi, "I am perfectly capable of handlin' meself here."

 

Syler abruptly stood up bringing the entire room's attention to him. "I have come to a most serious decision."

 

"What would that be?" asked Havert with a little trepidation.

 

Syler nodded and, in total seriousness, began, "I find myself pondering Vekla's statement, even though it were made in jest, as to whether or not we even want an Angvardi among our ranks." He paused and looked directly at Lamastus with unreadable eyes. There was not a single noise around the entire table. Now that he had everyone's complete attention. "If I am to be the lord here, I need to begin forming my court, and furthermore, I must be very careful at who I place within it. If I am not careful, it will not only weaken my position among the other Kruish lords, but it could very well lead me astray. It has occurred to me that, with me no longer really needing a simple bodyguard, I must reevaluate my relationship with Lamastus to fit within my new life.

 

"I look around and must see where I could possibly use one such as him. To give me joy and comfort, I already have a lovely wife," he said as he patted Bronwyn's hand. "To lead my armies and advise me on matters of war, I have a captain," he said with a glance over to Delmonor. "To guide my journey as the Master of Magic, I have a sorceress of great power," he said with a glance over at Vekla. Havert was next to be recognized. "To advise me and remind me of where I come from, I have a best friend who has been with me from childhood. I even have plenty of valiant warriors." Both Pastal and Gombel smiled at the acknowledgement. "So, after some careful deliberation, I have found that I really have only one position that needs to be filled."

 

Lamastus couldn't help himself and asked, "And what is that?"

 

Syler's mouth curved upward as he said, "Well, I find myself in need of a court jester. After all, I don't think any court is complete without one and you seem to fit the requirements quite well."

 

Laughter and a tiny bit of back slapping followed around the entire table. Delmonor spewed ale all over his plate and pounded the table with his fist. Bronwyn rolled her eyes at her husband, even though she was laughing. Even Vekla managed to crack a smile. Lamastus, to his credit, stood up and said with exaggerated theatrics, "Very well then, my lord. I am most grateful that you find me pleasing to serve you in such a manner. I shall endeavor to prove to be the best and most amusing jester of all the Kruish clans."

 

Alltis laughed and said, "I think he has had a little too much ale."

 

"At least he would be good for something," quipped Vekla.

 

As he sat back down, Lamastus said, "Well, it appears that someone is jealous that she wasn't good enough to be the jester."

 

The sorceress frowned and looked angry. Her expression only caused the others to laugh more. In response, she let out a single "harrumph" and drank a little more ale.

 

"Lighten up, Vekla," Bronwyn said. "Not all of us have the skills needed to make a complete fool out of ourselves. It is not every day that you find yourself in the presence of a true master."

 

"Aha!" Lamastus said, "I look good while making a fool of myself."

 

"Nobody here is gonna argue with that," said Havert.

 

They stayed in the hall late into the night regaling stories both serious and full of humor and teasing each other. Lamastus fulfilled his new role admirably by telling many stories of amusement and mirth while the others laughed. Syler told stories of his and Karusa's childhood and prodded others to do the same. Much to the mock horror of his wife, Havert seemed determined to vie with Lamastus for the title of court jester. Bronwyn even joined in with a few of the happier stories of her life, but mostly focused on the times she spent with Syler. While Vekla seemed mostly content in remaining quiet, she did fire off a few teasing insults at some of the others, especially Lamastus. Even Delmonor and the other two warriors joined in by telling of their glorious exploits in battle. They had to be careful in which tales to tell so as not to offend, but they managed it well enough. With such a diverse group, everyone understood that they had to leave the past in the past and focus on the fact that they were now allies fighting for the same cause.

 

When the night was late and the others had retired, only Lamastus and Vekla remained. He tried in vain to make her laugh one more time, but gave up after a few minutes. Despite her eyes being slightly glassed over from the ale, she maintained her perpetual frown.

 

After he had finished telling his latest joke, she asked, "Why do you make such a fool of yourself? You are a proud warrior, but tonight, you brought yourself low and played the fool."

 

Suddenly serious, he shook his head and sighed in sadness, "Vekla, nobody was the fool here. We were tired and weary from the journey. Syler was in a poor mood, so we were all in a poor mood because we didn't want to intrude on his brooding. Somebody had to do something or we would have sat here in silence then wandered off to our rooms for a night of depressing frustration and gloom.

"What I did is what had to be done. Someone needed to lighten the mood, so I did it."

 

She stared at him with a blank expression. "So you made a fool out of yourself?"

 

"No, I gave a little of my pride and allowed the others to have a good time. I was happy to let myself be the butt of a few jokes because it meant that everyone was, well, happy. Even you enjoyed yourself for a few moments when you weren't so self conscious. I took a dreary experience and turned it into one of laughter, merriment, and even some heartfelt tales."

 

"I do not understand."

 

He smiled at her, "I didn't think you would, but in time, I hope to show you." He got up and walked toward the door at the end of the table. "A lesson for you to ponder: sometimes you have to give a little to get a lot in return. I will see you in the morning."

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Loved it. Great, merry chapter, and very much needed for both the characters and the readers.

 

I did catch a bunch of things in this chapter though:

 

"Stop being so vueled, Angvardi," scorned Vekla.

 

Is this a Kruish word? And if so, how does Lamastus know what she means? Or is it just that the insult is implied in her tone?

 

Karusa glanced at her brother who nodded before following the other woman

 

This makes it sound like Syler is following Alltis, not Karusa.

 

Syler insisted that Gombel, Relwind, and Pastal ate with them and stayed the night

 

Tense. He insisted that they eat with them and stay the night, since it hasn't happened yet.

 

Havert was the first there as he had been nibbling on food since they split up..... "Hey," Havert said as he pointed a drumstick at the Angvardi,

 

Okay, so you said that Havert and Altis already ate, but Havert is eating a ton during this scene. I would just say they hadn't eaten yet, because Havert is acting like he's starving.

 

Syler was next as he felt that he needed to be there for the others and hastily prepared.

 

This was a weird sentence, and after some thought, I think it's because you just used 'hastily prepared' two sentences back, and so my mind immediately jumped to the food being prepared, which made this confusing.

 

We did not fight the hordes of satorians to come back here and mope around! This is a happy time for our lord's sister has been safely returned to us.

 

What is a satorian? All the characters seem to know, but the readers don't.

 

"It idn't very wise to anger a woman

 

Didn't know if this was a typo, or if it was deliberate for Havert's accent, but if the latter, I'd still change it. You just make it sound like he's got a stuffed up nose.

 

Havert was next to be recognized, "To
.

 

Period, not comma.

 

You used this exact phrase twice:

The sorceress frowned and looked angry. Her expression only caused the others to laugh more. When she noticed they were laughing at her, her ears and cheeks turned pink and she started studying her plate.

 

And Delmonor keeps "spewing ale all over his plate". He did that at least twice.

 

A little polishing and this chapter will gleam!

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Well, some of those mistakes are most embarrassing. Most embarrassing.

 

I have gone through and fixed them up a bit.

 

Is this a Kruish word? And if so, how does Lamastus know what she means? Or is it just that the insult is implied in her tone?

Yes it is, and all I will say is that that exchange is exactly as I want it. Just FYI, "vueled" means "rude."

 

Okay, so you said that Havert and Altis already ate, but Havert is eating a ton during this scene.

Fixed as you suggested.

 

What is a satorian? All the characters seem to know, but the readers don't.

What can you gather that it is? It really isn't necessary to know the specifics to get the point, all that is important now is that it is an insulting term similar to a barbarian or lesser creature. For a human equivalent, it is basically like the Greeks or Romans calling someone a "barbarian" and can be as offensive as calling someone a female dog.

 

You used this exact phrase twice:

More like, I used it once, decided it didn't fit in that part (the second location), copied and pasted, but forgot to go back and change the original. Oops.

 

Didn't know if this was a typo, or if it was deliberate for Havert's accent, but if the latter, I'd still change it.

It was intentional as part of his accent/word usage. It is a common enough way to say things around here, but I changed it to "ain't" for you.

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Finished this last night and touched it up a bit tonight. Let me know if you find any errors.

 

We had our watershed moment between Lamastus and Vekla, now it is time for a similar moment between her and Syler. I know there is a lot of development for Vekla, but she is quite an important character. She is one of the most important characters in this entire trilogy. Stay tuned for the next chapter where I further explore another.

 

Heads up, this marks the temporary end of the Syler storyline. For the next several chapters (I think four, maybe more), I will focus on what is happening in the rest of the world. Time will pass (five months) during this as plots are set up, plans are made, armies are put into position, and people make decisions that will change their lives and the world. I am currently at 170,000 words. My plan is to conclude the first novel by 250,000-260,000 words. The players have been all introduced (except two, both of whom will be introduced in this next chapter). Now it is time to move the pieces into place for the climax.

 

 

_______________

 

 

The next day, Vekla found Syler in the armory. He was staring at odd black pieces of—something—arrayed in a jumble of pieces on a table. She remained there for a moment waiting for him to notice her, but he didn't. With a frown, she said quietly, "My lord."

 

Syler's head jerked around in alarm, but he relaxed when he saw Vekla in the doorway. "You really shouldn't sneak up on me like that," he admonished gently.

 

"I was not stealthy in my approach," she responded. "You should not allow others to so easily sneak up upon you."

 

"You are probably right, I was just trying to figure out what to do next and wasn't really paying attention to anything else."

 

"A warrior should never be so focused on something they are unable to know what is happening around them."

 

"That is why I have you to watch my back," said Syler with a wink.

 

She tuted at him in disapproval. "I will not always be there to do that. You must be strong and capable on your own."

 

"True, I will give you that," he admitted with a single bob of his shoulders.

 

"What were you doing down here in the whaengarre?"

 

"The what?"

 

"The whaengarre—the weapon room," she explained.

 

Syler chuckled, "Oh, you mean the armory."

 

"The…armory," Vekla looked puzzled. "I do not understand, why do you call it an arm room if there are no arms here?"

 

"Well, I never thought of that, but if I were to guess, it would have something to do with the fact that it has armor," he said as he pointed to some of the rows of leather armor on stands along the wall. "Or it could have to do with the fact that sometimes we call weapons 'arms' in the Common Tongue."

 

She considered that with pursed lips for a moment, then nodded, "That is good. Weapons should be like your arms. I understand and agree with your tongue's use of the word."

 

"I am glad you approve of my language," Syler said wryly. "Anyway, what is it that you wanted me for?"

 

She lifted her chin and said, "I came here to begin your training." When Syler arched a single brow, she cringed slightly and hastily added, "That is, if you desire to do so."

 

"What kind of training do you wish me to undertake?" he asked cautiously.

 

"I spent much of my life preparing to train you in the ways of magic since it was believed that you would already be a skilled warrior upon coming to us. Since you are not, I believe it appropriate to begin with traditional combat training."

 

"I am sorry to disappoint you," he said evenly.

 

She blanched and shrank back. "I have offended you, my lord," she muttered.

 

Instead of the scolding she expected, he grinned, "No, but it is amusing to see your reactions. I am not used to people being afraid of angering me. Since I have managed to survive for twenty years without being so timid around me, I see no reason for things to change. As long as you are trying to help me, you should never be afraid of speaking your mind."

 

Despite his reassuring words, her eyes remained downcast. "I do not wish to do something wrong again and warrant your disapproval."

 

"Ahh," he said as he brushed his jaw absently with his hand. "I see where this is going. You are referring to what I said two days ago."

 

"Yes, my lord. You were right to question me, and to be disappointed with me for my failures. I have failed you as a guide by failing to consider that you are not Krue. I failed to see your perspective and failed to see that perhaps your new visions might be what is needed to save us all."

 

"Wow, that is a lot of failure. It is almost funny, because I don't remember mentioning anything about failure or failing me or even you having failed at anything."

 

She looked at him with eyes full of disbelief, "But you—"

 

"I said many things," he interrupted, "but that you had failed me was not one of them. From how I see it, you, as my Guide, are to offer advice and help me as best as you can. Nowhere in there do I see that it is your responsibility that I follow your advice. I may never do things how you want them done, but that in no way means that you have failed me or are not doing your duties as my Guide. I will be the first to admit that sometimes, I am too stubborn to listen to sound advice. However, there may also be times that I do not follow your suggestions because I know something that you don't or have a specific plan in mind and can't explain it all to you at that moment."

 

"But you said I was too unfeeling, to detached and merciless. You-you might have been right."

 

"Yes, though maybe I was a little too harsh. Just as you were expecting me to conform to your ideas of what I should be, I was doing the same to you. I have been doing a lot of thinking over the last day. Bronwyn and I talked on the way to Thwrud and I think I need to be making some changes in my life to help adjust to the fact that I now have people everywhere calling me their lord.

 

"While I may have been teasing Lamastus last night by naming him my jester, I was serious about one thing. As the lord of this clan and supposedly the future savior of the world, I am going to need people around me. I have Bronwyn who can help keep me in check in ways that only someone I love can do. I have Havert to give me his rather…simple view of life. Then I have Lamastus to provide me with a rather dimly positive and most definitely sarcastic perspective. I have warriors and wielders of magic aplenty to guide me on combat and magic. I am going to need someone who can provide an emotionless, nonattached perspective on things. I know that there will be situations in my future when I must act dispassionately, so perhaps that is where you may fill in."

 

She now wore a bewildered expression as she replied, "You want me not to work toward being more compassionate and emotional?"

 

"Not at all. I think you would be a great deal happier were you not so uptight. I kept an eye on you last night and you didn't participate much. You weren't rude or anything, but while the others were having fun and relaxing, you remained somewhat withdrawn and reserved. It is possible to be able to look at things without emotion and yet still live a full and happy life. People have done that for generations untold, since the beginning of time. You can still be the same old grumpy Vekla we all know on the battlefield, but other times you just need to be able to go and have fun."

 

"How can I do that?" she asked. Syler could tell that she was genuinely troubled at the entire concept.

 

"Well, you should do things that make you happy and help you relax."

 

"I like fighting."

 

"No, not fighting. You need to do something that helps you relax."

 

"Fighting relaxes me."

 

Syler put his hand over his face and shook his head. "You aren't getting what I am saying. Do something like taking a pleasant walk in the forest."

 

Her eyes lit up a little, "You mean like patrolling?"

 

"No, forget the idea of combat or duty or work. Do something purely for fun that you like but that has nothing to do with fighting or training."

 

"I like reading books—"

 

"That is good."

 

"—on magic and combat tactics."

 

Syler stared at her blankly as he slowly clenched and unclenched his hands. "Okay, new strategy. Bronwyn and I are going to go out for a little picnic for lunch. You are going to come with us. It would be good because we would like to get to know you better."

 

Her eyes widened, "I do not wish to intrude on your private times."

 

"Don't worry, I think it would be good for us to get to know you better. After all, you are a friend."

 

"I do not know about this."

 

He shrugged indifferently, "Okay, if you don't want to go, then I will have to go with my backup plan."

 

"What is that?"

 

"I was going to order you to spend the day following Lamastus and doing whatever he tells you to do."

 

"When do we leave for the picnic?" she asked without hesitation.

 

He smiled slyly at her reaction. "We leave in an hour."

 

"Can we get in some combat training afterwards?"

 

The only response she got was a long moan.

 

 

 

An hour later, the three of them went out into the gardens where he had practiced his swordplay before going to find Karusa. It was a peaceful place away from servants or others, so they were able to relax. At least, Syler and Bronwyn relaxed. Vekla seemed uncomfortable, especially when they asked her questions about her life.

 

Vekla didn't don her war paint, but she did braid her hair into a single braid that ran to the middle of her back. She ate quietly, but did answer when questioned. Bronwyn seemed particularly intent on finding a way through her defenses, but in the end, they did not get very far. Vekla wouldn't volunteer any information unless it was explicitly asked for. This puzzled Syler because she seemed far more open when talking to him earlier and he didn't know what caused the change.

 

When they were finished eating, they sat there. Bronwyn had given up conversation and lay back on the cool grass to look at the sky. The grass here was soft and green, not at all like the long bladed, sharp edged, rough prairie grasses that grew in Kut. Vekla looked uncomfortable with the quiet, but didn't dare leave until Syler gave her leave to do so. Syler, for his own part, had no idea what to do. Try as he might, it seemed that he was now getting nowhere with her on a personal level.

 

"So, what sort of training did you want to start with?" he asked in desperation. He really didn't want to get into business, but that seemed the only way to connect with the woman.

 

Vekla seemed cautious when replying, as though he was only teasing her and would quickly slap her down once she got her hopes up. "I wanted to start with unarmed combat, then work our way up to your basic weapons. I cannot complete your training as I am not an expert myself, but Delmonor or another of the warriors would be more than glad to help you."

 

"Well, I am not sure how much I will really need," said Syler. "Back before fighting the Skryia, I managed to take down eight men without even killing them. Four of those were unarmed."

 

She said dismissively, "Yes, but that was with the armor, you do not have that now."

 

His voice was deathly serious when he spoke again. "What about the armor?"

 

Vekla's eyes widened as she realized what she had said. Bronwyn turned her head at the sound of her husband's voice like that and looked at him curiously. Vekla searched for the right words, but couldn't seem to find them.

 

"What about the armor?" Syler repeated.

 

Vekla suddenly wished she hadn't said anything, but it was too late. "The armor was not normal armor. It…helped you, guided you. Without it, you are just a normal, untrained man."

 

"What did you do to it? I could feel something was different when I wore it, but I did not know you were aware of it."

 

"Of course I was aware of it, I made it," Vekla replied. "It was a gift, one from my father."

 

Syler opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated and closed it. He looked away and ground his teeth together. "You…made it. Why didn't you tell me?"

 

"My father swore me to secrecy. He said that you would find it on your own and that I was not to lead you to it."

 

"Why didn't you tell me about it when you saw me wearing it? You wouldn't have been leading me to it then since I had already found it."

 

"Because it was his sacrifice, his last gift to the man whom he swore to give his life for," there was indignation in her voice now. "What does it matter now? You did not know. You did not care to ask or find out. He gave everything for you. He gave his life, his status, his lands, his people, his daughter, even his hard earned knowledge and skills. You had them, all at your fingertips, and you wasted them. That armor was his masterpiece, something he spent a lifetime building and preparing for, and you simply let it get destroyed after but a week of wearing it. A whole lifetime, and it is now all gone."

 

"Vekla," Bronwyn asked, "what are you talking about?"

 

"She is talking about the armor I wore. It was enchanted, wasn't it?" Vekla nodded, though she held her tongue for fear of what might come out should she use it. "I thought there was something almost familiar about it when I put it on. When I was focused just right, I could feel strength and wisdom flowing into me. That was your doing wasn't it?"

 

"I only performed the spells, it was my father's doing. He sacrificed all of his skills in combat so that I could take them and put them into the armor. It was not an easy process and it took a great deal of time and preparation."

 

"And you are angry at me because the armor was burned by the Skryia, a monster that I did not create." As he said that, his eyes couldn't help but wander briefly to Bronwyn who suddenly found her cup to be very interesting.

 

Vekla's ears reddened as she replied. "It was a tremendous sacrifice to have so little benefit."

 

"So now, I am nothing but a barely trained conscript, yes?"

 

She nodded. "The effects were not permanent, only temporary. You had to be wearing the armor, too."

 

Syler suddenly got up and talked into the courtyard. He waved the sorceress over, saying, "Come on, Vekla. You are going to get your wish."

 

She did as she was ordered, but didn't look happy about it. "What are you doing?"

 

"You wanted to train, so train me. If you can knock me down before I knock you down, then I will follow whatever training regimen you desire."

 

Vekla's eyes narrowed, "What if I do not?"

 

"Then you follow my training regimen and start learning how to simply relax and have fun." When she didn't respond, he chuckled. "What are you concerned about? I am just a simple conscript who is no match for your skills and training, right?"

 

"Syler," Bronwyn cautioned. "Are you sure about this?"

 

"What do I have to lose?" he replied. "I will be able to get her to do what will help her become a more rounded person or she makes me do what will help me become a stronger fighter. Either way I win."

 

"Very well then," Vekla said. She crouched down into a fighting position and waited for Syler to do the same.

 

Syler closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before doing the same. With a nod, he let her know that he was ready to begin. She began stalking in a circle around Syler who simply kept an eye on her, but didn't otherwise react. She scowled at his inactivity and waited until she was facing his left side before charging in with a lightning quick strike with her left fist.

 

He blocked that strike and lashed out to box her in the ear. It wasn't a particularly strong blow, but it did turn her ear red. She began to punch at his midsection and landed a few minor blows, but most were blocked. Syler ducked low to launch a sweeping kick that Vekla only barely managed to avoid. While he was down low, she tried to hit him in the temple with her right hand. He saw the attack coming and bent his head sideways to meet her blow with the crown of his head. Vekla gritted her teeth as her knuckles popped sending pain shooting up her arm.

 

After that, she disengaged and backed up a few paces to evaluate the situation. She had clearly underestimated Syler and was now trying to reevaluate her opponent. He didn't give her time to do that, but came at her with a few hasty jabs designed to keep her off balance. She met those mostly on her forearms, but did manage to duck by one and punch Syler under the jaw snapping his head back and forcing him to withdraw a few steps.

 

She was quick to fall upon him by sending her left fist straight for his right kidney. He met her blow to his kidney with a powerful fist that grabbed her wrist and twisted it. Without a sound, she used her other hand to try to hit him in the face, but with a quick motion, he jerked her captured hand up to block while lashing out for her midsection with his free hand.

 

Vekla tried to stumble back, but Syler kept hold of her wrist and pulled her toward him. She resisted for a split second before realizing that his superior strength and weight wouldn't allow her to win the battle and instead threw her weight forward. She kneed him in the stomach eliciting a slight grunt from him, but otherwise little reaction. Using her momentum, she wrapped around Syler and grabbed his neck with her right arm. Syler kept hold of her left wrist as he jammed his right elbow straight into her stomach with as much strength as he could muster.

 

The sorceress refused to give into the pain, but instead focused on trying to weaver her legs in between Syler's and pull him down. She managed to twist her left leg and used her foot as a hook. Putting her weight onto her right leg, she used her left knee as a fulcrum to force Syler's back backwards in the hopes of pulling him off balance.

 

Instead, Syler flexed and began pulling Vekla forward through brute strength. Instead of bending backwards, Syler bent forwards and threw Vekla bodily over his head. She was barely able to land on her feet and thus prevent losing the match, but it cost her her left arm. He still had a grip on her left wrist so when she was hurled over his shoulders, it twisted her shoulder out of place.

 

She expected a follow up attack, but instead found her left arm free and Syler standing back several paces. "Fix your arm, Vekla," he said softly. "We aren't here to hurt each other and I don't want you to lose the use of your arm for a while."

 

With her cheeks stinging from embarrassment at her temporary defeat, she didn't argue. With a single, practiced motion, she popped her shoulder back in place and, though she didn't cry out, blinked away the tears of pain. She ignored the pain and got back into a fighting stance.

 

While she had done that, Syler had kept his eyes closed and was in deep concentration. She was wary for a trap, but he did not move. "I am ready," she said softly just in case he was not aware of that fact. The only response that elicited was a slight dip of his chin.

 

She waited for him to make a move, but he just stood there with his eyes closed and his hands at his side. She stared at him for twenty seconds before finally deciding that she had to make a move. Without a sound, she took five steps toward him and kicked at his hip. Without opening his eyes, he blocked her foot with the palm of his hand and pushed it away. She followed that up with a kick from her other foot at his shoulder and frowned when that too was blocked. She tried to kick him in the middle of the chest, but found that blocked with both of his hands. She nearly lost her balance when he pushed her foot backwards and jammed her knee into her own chest. As it was, she was forced to hop ungracefully on her other leg just to stay up.

 

Once she recovered, she went in close to strike with her throbbing right hand and still weak left. It wasn't optimal, but her kicks were clearly not effective. She threw punch after punch at him but was unable to land more than a few weak blows. Every time she managed to get in a more powerful or damaging strike, he blocked it. He didn't strike back, but simply blocked and evaded her every move.

 

At last, she pulled back panting and with sweat pouring down her brow. She was frustrated with his defense and her inability to penetrate it. It did not escape her notice that throughout this second exchange, Syler had not opened his eyes once. She didn't understand it at first, but now that she was standing there able to think about something other than where to land her next blow, it began to dawn upon her.

 

"You…fight like….my father…" she said between breaths. "He was able…to use magic…to see without…seeing and…know where his opponents were…coming from. It was a rare gift for mages."

 

Syler slowly opened his eyes and smiled. "Yes, he could. He used it to anticipate his opponents moves and counter them."

 

"But, how did you…" her voice trailed off in astonishment and confusion.

 

"I can absorb or reflect magic, remember?" Syler explained. "When I was fighting the Skryia, I was forced to open myself completely to the, ah, the fury thing you mentioned me having. I absorbed all magic around me and brought it into myself. That is how I defeated the Skryia and healed the injuries that resulted from the Skryia's fire. While I was doing that, I must have completely absorbed whatever spells or enchantments were in that armor.

 

"I gave up the power I received from the Skryia because it was too much, too corrupting. I didn't give up the knowledge and abilities I coincidentally received from your father. Those remained within me, though I didn't really know it until you told me about what you and he had done. Only then did I begin to realize how to tap into that strength and knowledge. It took me a little to get used to it, but by the time you came at me the second time, I was able to fully immerse myself within the magic that he had used and make it my own.

 

"His sacrifice wasn't in vain, Vekla. It has made me stronger and helped me get through dealing with the mages even before I had to face the Skryia. I have no doubt that I will benefit in the future from his vast knowledge and experience. He fulfilled his purpose and completed his path with honor."

 

Vekla said nothing for a long time after that, but stood there considering what he had said. Syler waited patiently for her to work through the revelation that her father's sacrifice hadn't been lost. She fell down to her knees in front of him and bowed her head. "Thank you," she said quietly. She lifted her head and her eyes met his. When they did, he saw genuine gratitude in them for the first time in those tear filled brown orbs.

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Nice update. I like the flow of the conversation. You did a nice job with characterization in this section, although I'm a little worried that Vekla is suddenly getting so much character development in such a short span of time. I think you're pulling it off okay, because the changes aren't huge, but it is standing out a little as "I wanted to make sure Vekla had character development now" while forgetting about the other characters' development. *shrugs* Just something to think through. Maybe Brendo feels otherwise.

 

The discussion about the armor was good, but I think it was a little repetitive. Especially here:

 

"What did you do to it? I could feel something was different when I wore it, but I did not know you were aware of it."

 

"Of course I was aware of it, I made it," Vekla replied. "It was a gift, one from my father."

 

Syler opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated and closed it. He looked away and ground his teeth together. "You…made it. Why didn't you tell me?"

 

"My father swore me to secrecy. He said that you would find it on your own and that I was not to lead you to it."

 

"Why didn't you tell me about it when you saw me wearing it? You wouldn't have been leading me to it then since I had already found it."

 

"Because it was his sacrifice, his last gift to the man whom he swore to give his life for," there was indignation in her voice now. "What does it matter now? You did not know. You did not care to ask or find out. He gave everything for you. He gave his life, his status, his lands, his people, his daughter, even his hard earned knowledge and skills. You had them, all at your fingertips, and you wasted them. That armor was his masterpiece, something he spent a lifetime building and preparing for, and you simply let it get destroyed after but a week of wearing it. A whole lifetime, and it is now all gone."

 

"Vekla," Bronwyn asked, "what are you talking about?"

 

"She is talking about the armor I wore. It was enchanted, wasn't it?" Vekla nodded, though she held her tongue for fear of what might come out should she use it. "I thought there was something almost familiar about it when I put it on. When I was focused just right, I could feel strength and wisdom flowing into me. That was your doing wasn't it?"

 

"I only performed the spells, it was my father's doing. He sacrificed all of his skills in combat so that I could take them and put them into the armor. It was not an easy process and it took a great deal of time and preparation."

 

I feel like Vekla keeps saying it's a gift from her father and that she put the spells on it, and that unless Bronwyn wasn't paying attention at all, she'd know they were talking about the armor because they already mentioned it. You might want to clean this part up a bit. But again, maybe I'm just being overly sensitive right now and Brendo won't find anything wrong with it.

 

She tuted at him in disapproval

 

This would be "too-ted". You should add another t, or put a hyphen between the two parts.

 

Since I have managed to survive for twenty years without being so timid around me, I see no reason for things to change.

 

Missing a word here? Without others being so timid?

 

Nice work!

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Nice update. I like the flow of the conversation. You did a nice job with characterization in this section, although I'm a little worried that Vekla is suddenly getting so much character development in such a short span of time. I think you're pulling it off okay, because the changes aren't huge, but it is standing out a little as "I wanted to make sure Vekla had character development now" while forgetting about the other characters' development. *shrugs* Just something to think through. Maybe Brendo feels otherwise.

That may be, but then, I also spent a great deal of time on Syler, then Bronwyn, then Lamastus. Vekla is the next in the list and for her, it is the most important because of how much her character is going to change. Not only that, but Vekla is easily the second most important and major character utilized so far. I would say more, but I don't want to spoil things too much. Her development is critical at this point, but fortunately I have gotten most of it (at this stage) out and dealt with.

 

 

 

The discussion about the armor was good, but I think it was a little repetitive. Especially here:

 

 

I feel like Vekla keeps saying it's a gift from her father and that she put the spells on it, and that unless Bronwyn wasn't paying attention at all, she'd know they were talking about the armor because they already mentioned it. You might want to clean this part up a bit. But again, maybe I'm just being overly sensitive right now and Brendo won't find anything wrong with it.

Well, I went over it a bit. We know about enchantments and whatnot, but Bronwyn doesn't. She was getting pieces and parts of what was going on, but needed it bluntly spelled out for her. Eh, if Brendo feels it needs to be changed, I will see about mixing it up a little.

 

This would be "too-ted". You should add another t, or put a hyphen between the two parts.

Fixed. Thanks for that. For some reason, MS Word didn't pick that up as being wrong, so I just assumed it was right.

 

Missing a word here? Without others being so timid?

Good catch. Fingers were flying a little too fast there.

 

 

 

______________

 

Okay, onto the next chapter. Sorry for the delay, but I have been working a ton of late and motivation is hard to go by. In this piece, we get to pick up with poor Aitin (who, if you could remember, was betrayed and sold into Shalktra imprisonment) and his fate. As I mentioned, the next few chapters will focus on the various schemes and goings on in the world while time passes (about five months).

 

Oh, and regarding the name of the new character, I actually got that from one of the guys working at the Popeye's near my work. I kept seeing him there and I really liked his name, so I decided to include it. And yes, that is exactly how he spells his name.

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

Travel to the outskirts of Terula City and wait there. I will contact you with further instructions. The time is close, my friends. Soon Angvard will be free of the Terulan corruption.

 

— Letter captured by Shalktra agents at a dead drop, no further clues found

 

Road to Terula City

Thirty Miles Northwest of Govata

Kingdom of Terula

 

Aitin was woken from his troubled sleep when the prison cart carrying him screeched to a stop. He blinked out of habit, but couldn't see anything through the thick black bag that had been put over his head. He had been in this lumbering cart for a week now, traveling from Dunsurt to his doom back in Terula City where he was to be taken in front of the king himself. He had already enjoyed the hospitality of the Shalktra for two days as they tried to "loosen him up" through various means. He had said nothing, mostly because he was gagged, but also because their goal wasn't to get information. Most were too afraid of letting a prophet speak to them as though he was going to tell them of their impeding death or worse. Instead, they focused on wearing down his mental resistance and will to resist. That treatment continued as they traveled, but to a lesser degree. He had the distinct impression that the Shalktra commander in Dunsurt was not happy at having to give up his prisoner so soon, but nobody dared defy a direct royal edict.

 

As his mind began to recover from the sleep he so desperately needed, he realized something was seriously wrong. With his head still incased in a black bag and his mouth thoroughly gagged, the only thing that Aitin could rely on to find out what was happening was his hearing. What he heard frightened him more than were this a normal torture stop.

 

At first, he only heard shouts and wondered what was going on, but those shouts quickly turned into death cries and screams of pain. He could hear the sound of steel on steel and the whizzing of arrows as a battle was waged outside. He didn't know who would dare attack a caravan of Shalktra, much less seem to be actually winning against them.

 

He jerked as something heavy slammed against the cart before sliding to the ground. It didn't take long for things to start getting quiet as there were fewer and fewer men left alive to make noise. Two minutes after he was wakened and it was all over.

 

Aitin felt the cart shift as someone jumped onto the back and heard the door screeching open. "Well, what have we here?" a gruff voice said.

 

Rough hands grabbed him and pulled him out of the cart and onto the dirt of the road. Someone removed the bag over his head leaving him blinking in the sudden rush of light. His gag was removed and he was pulled up to his knees.

 

Another man, not the one who pulled him out, stepped up in front of him and began inspecting him. He was cleaning his bloody sword with one of the Shalktra standards. In a cheerful and almost playful voice, he asked, "As it is clear you were no friend of the Shalktra, I think I will give you one chance to persuade me not to kill you. Does that sound fair, eh?"

 

"Wh-what do you want?"

 

"Hmm, you name would be nice, that way I know how to address you. You wouldn't do poorly by telling us all why you were a prisoner of the Shalktra. Finally, it wouldn't hurt your chances if you could come up with some compelling reason as to why we wouldn't kill you."

 

"My name is Aitin of the City," he said quickly with a quavering voice. In his panic, he couldn't think straight. "I am a prophet sent on a very important mission. If you are loyal followers of the Way, you would do well to release me and allow me to complete it."

 

The man finished cleaning his sword and threw the standard onto the ground behind him. Without sheathing his sword, he knelt down next to the frightened man and whispered quietly in his ear, "Why is that our concern?" He stood up abruptly and said, "Alright Yorgel, string him up. We will make an example out of him for those who find this mess."

 

"Sure 'ting," the man who must have been Yorgel said as he grabbed Aitin under his arms and began dragging him away from the cart as the man followed.

 

"B-b-but, I have done you no wrong!" Aitin cried out in terror.

 

"Yea, that is true," the man said. "Mmm…but I still can't risk you tellin' people what happened here. Plus, I don't like people who can see the future, it spoils the fun of not knowing."

 

"Who would I tell? I am running from the authorities!"

 

The man shrugged, "Yea, you might be, but seeing as how we found ya a prisoner, I am not going to place much faith on your ability to avoid recapture. You might try to bargain for better treatment by selling us out."

 

"I don't even know who you are."

 

"You might be telling the truth…or you could just be lying to save your own skin."

 

Yorgel dropped him in a pile of brown leaves and reached for several wicked looking picks and instruments of torture in his pack. He pulled one out and started sharpening it against a whetstone with a merciless grin on his face.

 

The blood drained from Aitin's face and he pleaded, "By the gods, have mercy!"

 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, now you have gone and annoyed me with your groveling," the man said. "I hate groveling. I think I am just going to have to cut out your tongue." The man stabbed his sword into the ground, grabbed Aitin's mouth, and pressed his thumb and forefinger against his cheeks to force his jaw open. With the other hand, he grabbed the prophet's tongue and pulled it out. He let go of Aitin's mouth and pulled a knife out of his belt. In one swift motion, the knife was poised to slice the prophet's tongue off.

 

Before he did, the man paused and looked at one of his men. "I wonder, does a prophet who cannot speak still have the ability to prophesy his prophecies?"

 

There was some laughter from the others, but they were more concerned with looting the bodies of the dead Shalktra. The man shrugged and looked back to the sweating Aitin. A smile formed on his lips and tried not to break out into laughter.

 

After a few seconds of resisting it, he gave in and threw his head back and laughed. He released Aitin and said, "Just kiddin' there. We got no issue with you, but I figured I would have a bit o' fun to liven the mood. Plus, we had to make sure you weren't just some Shalktra deserter being brought back to camp. They tend to bluster and threaten us with all sorts of holy retribution."

 

Aitin gaped in disbelief as the man offered him a hand to help him up. Though he was still trembling, he took the hand and was pulled to his feet. The man slapped him on the back and said, "I'm Jhonatan, and welcome to the ToKalak."

 

 

 

"What are you doing in Terula?" Aitin asked. After his initial introduction to the small ToKalak squad, they had taken him into the hills to get away from the ambush site. Though he was hardly comfortable around them, there was no hostility directed at him. As he listened to them exchange banter, it seemed that they were actually fairly nice men and women. As long as he forgot the massacre of the Shalktra squad that had been escorting him, he would have been able to picture them as a merry band of hunters searching for food.

 

"Oh, that? We are doing what we always do," Jhonatan said jovially. "We hunt Shalktra and other Terulan fanatics out trying to kill our people."

 

"What?" It made no sense, the wars were over and there was no more fighting. "The war is over, we are at peace and unified by the Way."

 

Jhonatan laughed and slapped the prophet on the back. "You really are sheltered, aren't you? Oh, to be so blissfully ignorant."

 

Aitin's cheeks burned at the insult. "We are prophets, not politicians or historians."

 

"Well," Jhonatan's voice had hardened as he spoke, "perhaps if you were to pay attention to us petty commoners, you would have seen that the war isn't over. The Shalktra pillage and slaughter their way through Angvard almost completely unchecked. To make things worse, the Empress herself does nothing about it and sometimes even defends their actions. At least in the old days, we could kill them openly and had the broad support of our people, but now everyone is afraid of angering the 'Unity' and the priests."

 

"That is blasphemy!"

 

"Stuff it, Prophet. I have been a devoted follower of the Tetrarchy all of my life, but I don't support this ridiculous notion of Unity that was cooked up by weak kneed fools who didn't want to fight any longer. Once you have seen the death and suffering caused by the Shalktra like I have, you might think differently about this so called peace we have."

 

Aitin was now growing afraid at the fire in the other man's eyes. "Surely it is better than open war?"

 

"Perhaps, but there is something to be said about the honesty of war. At least then you know who your enemy is and don't have to worry about playing nice with them until they stab you in the back."

 

Aitin had nothing to say to that. He had not ever seen battle before. In truth, those dead Shalktra were the first bodies he had ever seen. "What are you going to do with me, then?"

 

"Well, that is up to you."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You can come with us while we finish our little venture here and return to Angvard, or I can kill you now. I wasn't entirely joking when I said I couldn't risk letting you go and having you tell the Shalktra or the Royal Guards of our location. You will be our guest while we are in Terula for as long as you don't cause problems. If you try anything, I will kill you myself. Once we are back in Angvard, you will be free to go."

 

With a gulp, Aitin asked, "How long will you be here in Terula?"

 

"Dunno, probably a month or two. We have hit it big here with all the Shalktra movement. Lots of juicy targets here that think they are safe because they are so deep in Terulan territory. Every one we kill here is one less that can cross in to Angvard and kill my people."

 

"But, I have to get to Lavisha as soon as possible!" he protested.

 

"Not my concern, prophet. Really, you should thank us. The way things were, you looked as though the only thing you would be prophesying is your own torture and death. Shalktra don't normally escort prophets around like that because they were in good graces."

 

"You don't understand, my mission is of the utmost importance. The fate of the world depends upon it."

 

"Yea, right. I am sure that every little prophet thinks that of their prophecies. Unfortunately for you, there are a heap o prophecies from hordes of prophets that haven't caused the world to end yet."

 

"This isn't a normal prophecy or a normal mission," pleaded Aitin.

 

"What is it that is so important? If you tell me and I think it is important enough, I may join you."

 

"I-I can't," replied Aitin as he cast his eyes downward. "I was instructed to tell nobody of my mission except the One."

 

"Uh huh." Jhonatan didn't seem convinced. "Of course this is a super secret mission. Who is this one person who you can tell?"

 

Aitin's eyes grew wide in surprise. "The One. You know of the Master of Magic, otherwise known as the One Who Masters Magic, right?" The other man just shook his head. "He is only the most important man to ever be born of humanity! The Coming Darkness is, er, coming, and it is coming soon. Without him, we are all lost. My mission is directly related to him and his destiny. If I don't complete it, then the world could end in ash and darkness."

 

"Riiight," Jhonatan said with a chuckle. "I think someone has been spending a little too much time reading books and not enough time in reality." He stood up and dusted himself off. "Listen kid, prophet or not, you know the terms of our relationship. Either you stick with us or I stick a sword in your heart and leave you for the wolves."

 

Swallowing the bitter taste of failure, Aitin nodded mutely. "I will stay with you then."

 

The ToKalak patted him on the head and said, "That's a good little prophet. If you behave, we might even give you a cut of the spoils."

 

He walked off to join the rest of his men leaving Aitin to wonder why the gods would allow something like this if he was doing their express bidding.

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Hi Travis, so I'm trying to catch but admittedly it will take some time. In fact, really, with how quickly you get chapters up I'm not sure I will before you wrap up the novel! Nonetheless, wanted to let you know that I am still trying to read, it's just a matter of how much time I have and will results in shorter reviews as I try to burn through a few chapters before posting a response - also due to time.

 

I've finished up through Chapter 12 (Part I, I believe), and I have to say that it has been pretty solid. You have wrapped up a lot of character development (at least in terms of initial introductions, as I'm expecting them to continue to grow and change through the story) and jumped into the type of action that really seems to set up the rest of the story.

 

I think you've handled all of it well, and continued to present to us a well written, well planned, and well rounded story. I'm definitely interested in finding out what happens to these characters! I'm still a little uncertain about Growald - we're really sure of how much he knows or his real motivations yet, and I think that he could still end up being as much trouble as help! I think I might have had one or two minor comments about some of the chapters between where I was and Chapter 12, but the only one I remember is still struggling with Havert's words a bit. Sometimes he has an accent and sometimes he doesn't, and I know you're planning on coming back to this but sometimes it still confuses me. Part of this might be I am paying it too much attention after the first few chapters, so I'm going to start trying to expect the "outlying farmer" accent instead of looking for the more-educated lad he first seemed in Chapter 1 and see if that smooths it over (i.e. I'm still looking for the old character when you've fully transitioned to something different).

 

Anywho, for chapter 12 I did have a few thoughts, although really you've done a very good job in protraying both action and depth. One thing that really struck me as odd is that when Syler first rescues Bronwyn you mention nothing about her face until she is holding the sword. I realize that you probably were trying to emphasize this unexpected behavior, but when Syler first holds her in his arms, as distracted as he is by the filth and blood and wounds on her body I would expect him to look to her eyes/face to see the first, best evidence of if she is okay. Instead, he seems to avoid looking there! I think you could still find a way to surprise us but make this seem more natural by having him search her eyes but appear not to recognize or notice him (some type of trance or shock).

 

Governor Uthas was sitting in a comfortable chair drinking a cup of wine and enjoying fresh pork when a sound like thunder rattled his glass. That was followed by the ground trembling below his feet causing one of the glasses to slide along the edge of his table and crash to the ground. The shaking lasted no more than fifteen seconds during which he finished the rest of his cup and sat back with a content smile.
The second two sentences seem particularly passive-voice to me.

 

The remaining woman refused to leave the unconscious women whom she claimed was a friend from her village.
Both should be "woman," as I believe only one woman was unconscious?

 

He walked back to where he had left Bronwyn and just sat next her in silence offering whatever support his presence would give her. Bronwyn looked at him and started crying softly. "I am sorry, Syler," she said.
For someone who has been almost comatose or mechanical in behavior - and certainly not talking - this seemed a little sudden of a transition to me. Granted, Bronwyn has always seemed to be one to apologize and think of the other person. Still (and this may just be my opinion), after what she's been through I almost imagine her breaking through the comatose fog over her by beginning to sob quietly, causing Syler to turn and look toward her and see the tears have already been leaking out, and then sobbing louder and louder as the emotion overtakes her. In the midst of this she would try to apologize through the tears.

 

Anyhow, just my two cents. Looking forward to catching up some more as time permits.

"It's always these little worlds that get you in trouble. Like Tatooine. I'm still living that one down." - Han Solo

Your barnacle has carnivorous salamanders the size of whales.

"Let us hold unswervingly to the faith we profess, for he who promised is faithful." -Heb. 10:23

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Sorry for the long delay. Life has been busy and I have been, sadly, distracted. I am going to come out and admit that my major burst of creativity and inspiration has waned. It was great for the two months that it lasted, but I doubt I will be that active for a little while. I am making it my goal to get at least one chapter out a week, so we will see how that turns out.

 

Gimpy, it is great to have you back. I had feared that you were too far behind and would give up, but I am really glad you are at least trying. You bring up some great points, truly. I don't have the time to address them fully at this moment, but rest assured I WILL get to them when I have the time. If not in the next few days, then definitely when I do the second draft. Observations like that are exactly what I am looking for in my second go through. I have a good number of ideas on what I am going to do once I finish up the first draft, things like that will definitely be considered and evaluated.

 

To the present. This part was actually quite fun to write. Once I got the motivation and sat down to make my self write, I just kept going. It is a little odd, I know, but it is nonetheless key to the rest of the story. There are a lot of things going on behind the scenes that will start coming to light.

 

Anyway, to the second part of Chapter 30.

 

 

_____________________

 

* * * * *

 

Tesk Estate

Tazetora

Angvardi Province of Tazetor

Angvardi Empire

 

"Ahh, Mr. Pertree, it is good to see you," Valinc Tesk said as he opened the door to let his guest in.

 

"Quinlis," the man said sourly. "Call me Quinlis."

 

"Yes, of course, my mistake. Do come in and make yourself comfortable, we have a lot to talk about."

 

"Yes, we do."

 

Valinc took his guest through the halls of his palatial estate and into a meticulously tended indoor garden. A table with various refreshments waited them, but no servants could be seen. "It is safe to talk here," he informed Quinlis. "I have left explicit instructions that nobody disturb us."

 

Quinlis sat down at the offered chair, but didn't partake of any of the food or drink. "Have you contacted Governor Harrold yet?"

 

"Of course," Valinc said with a sniff of indignation. "I did precisely as I said I would back in Fogora."

 

"What did he say?" asked Quinlis as he ignored his coconspirator's attitude.

 

"Well, I wouldn't completely label him as with us, but he is at least sympathetic. He has grown tired of the Terulan incursions along the border. Celienna even gave the Terulans the right to settle in our lands and farm our fields! Their bastard king says that Angvardi have the right to do so in Terula, but those who took him up on that offer were quickly driven out by unfair trade practices, inability to get supplies due to hostile neighbors, or sometimes even Shalktra intimidation or attacks. It is a complete outrage and the governor is tired of his complaints being ignored."

 

"So do you think he can be convinced to completely support us with his armies and resources?"

 

Valinc's head bobbed. "I think he can. The sight of my marred hands seemed to draw his gaze more than once during our conversation. I even managed to hint that such a fate was what the Imperial hag had in mind for anyone who dared question her directly. He seemed to react well to that."

 

Quinlis smiled, "Good. We will need him. Without his support and the vast quantities of food in Tazetor, we won't be able to make our move. The generals are not going to challenge someone who has control of the very fields that produce the food that fuels their armies."

 

"We need Eartland, too," Valinc pointed out. The vast fields of grain in the southern parts of the province were supplemented by miles upon miles of orchards in the northern regions. Tazetor and Eartland produced most of the food for the Empire and were absolutely critical for any foreign war effort. It was their fertile lands and bountiful production that had led to many invasions of the region by the Terulans during the various wars. As result, many of its inhabitants had generations worth of resentment and distrust toward the Southerners.

 

"Do not worry about Eartland," said Quinlis dismissively.

 

Valinc's grey eyebrows rose, "Really? Governor Kattlen is with us?"

 

"You do not need to know anything about that," reprimanded Quinlis. "You just need to focus on making sure you do your part."

 

The older man seemed taken aback, but he managed to say confidently, "Do not worry, I will make sure things are ready on my end."

 

* * * * *

 

Temple of Kubei

Village of Kubei,

Angvardi Province of Kut

 

Governor Uthas looked dispassionately at his latest prisoner and wondered just how fortunate he had become. The man was clearly a strong warrior, but weeks with only the most minimal rations and almost complete inactivity had caused him to lose more than just his fighting edge. His skin sagged a little and had taken a sallow hue where it wasn't black and blue or covered in dried blood.

 

He was deep in the dungeons below the Temple with his personal mage, Meltorith. They had just received word that a prisoner had been captured in Sua Tles and sent here to be interrogated properly. According to the hand written letter from the general himself, this man was part of an escort of a Kruish lord that had been searching for his Sei stepsister or something. The general didn't know how much of that was true, if anything, but the entire group had raided his archives and made off with several important records. The general suspected this to be some sort of cleverly arranged espionage mission by the Krue designed to test the Angvardi's strength. Though many of their number were killed, the rest had managed to escape. One had not been so fortunate and fell into the general's hands and was now a present for the governor.

 

Anything dealing with the Krue was of special interest to Uthas, not just because their territory bordered his province, but also because of their importance in prophecy. There were countless references in numerous volumes of prophecy and Sage wisdom that dealt with the Krue and their Kuti cousins. It was a central reason why he moved to take over governorship of the Kuti province.

 

He had quietly been seeking any and all sources of information regarding Kuti history and anything on the Krue. A few whispers and suggestions to the right people had alerted General Saveron that he wanted a copy of any reports that came out of the Subeleth Woods and the general had been more than happy to oblige him. The man was not a fool and could see the growing power Uthas wielded. The general could sense the winds of change softly blowing over the political landscape. Those light breezes would soon become hurricane gales and the general wanted to make sure he still had favor with as many people as possible so that he could come out on top.

 

"So," Uthas said calmly, "this is General Saveron's gift."

 

The man looked up and, despite his condition, smiled. "I'm not a very good present, maybe you should send me back."

 

The corners of Uthas' mouth rose slightly. "You still have a sense of humor even after what you have been through. That is…interesting."

 

"Oh yea, it would take more than a few of you Angvardi goons to break me."

 

"So it seems," said Uthas dryly. "You sound as though you want me to break you."

 

The prisoner laughed, "Oh sure, I ain't got nottin' else to do while sitting around here. Spendin' time with your piss poor 'interrogators' make for an amusin' afternoon. You should let me out of these chains so I could show you some pointers on how to conduct a real torture session."

 

Uthas was amused, watching this prisoner be broken was going to be very enjoyable. "Oh, I assure you that your fun has just began. You have been dealing with amateurs, but I am no amateur. Neither is Meltorith." The mage smiled showing teeth blackened through practicing profane magic.

 

"Goodie, I could use a little entertainment. Maybe your pet can show me a trick o' two that I can remember for later."

 

"Of course, I shall be happy to oblige. First, though, tell me what your name is."

 

The prisoner wagged a finger at them and said, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You haven't even bought me a drink and you want to know my name? Uthas, if ya want to play, you have to pay first."

 

Uthas' eyes narrowed. There was something about this prisoner that he suddenly didn't like. "Who told you my name?"

 

The prisoner winked at him and turned his head toward Meltorith. "Oh, poor governor, thinks he is the only one who knows a thing," the prisoner said between guffawing.

 

"You know me! How do you know me?"

 

"Unh uh. You are goin' ta need to beat me a good long time before I would even consider telling you that."

 

"Then I think we should get to it," Uthas said with a sneer. "I will leave you to the gentle ministrations of Meltorith for a little while and see if you are more amiable when I come back."

 

The prisoner snorted, "Not likely, but it should be fun. See ya tomorrow, Governor."

 

 

 

The next afternoon when he was finished with his daily business, Uthas returned to the dungeons. It had been hard to focus on maintaining his public image and dealing with the petty affairs that a governor normally had to deal with. The only thing he wanted to do was to check on how far Meltorith was getting with this prisoner.

 

He licked his lips in anticipation as he stepped down the last few stairs into the dimly lit stony halls that winded beneath the Temple. A few twists and turns and he was at a barred door manned by two of his own Angvardi guards. The disgraced Shalktra had been expelled shortly after the successful escape of their wards a month ago and had been replaced with his own loyal men.

 

When the two saw him, they quickly snapped to attention and unlocked the door for him. He paid them no more heed as he went further into the most protected of areas where the prisoner was. As he got closer, he heard whimpering and smiled. Apparently Meltorith had had greater success than he had expected. It was almost a disappointment, but at least he would find out what the Krue were up to.

 

When he turned the final corner that led him to the cell where the prisoner was being held, he abruptly stopped. The smirk he was preparing for the prisoner melted from his face and was replaced with an expression of horror. Uthas' jaw dropped a little and his eyes bulged at what he saw before him.

 

Someone was still whimpering, but it wasn't the prisoner. Meltorith, a man who had personally seen and carried out some rather heinous rituals and experiments of his own, was curled up in a ball at the corner of the room farthest from the prisoner with his arms wrapped around his legs. His shoulders were shaking as he cried pathetically.

 

Instead of being within an inch of his life, he prisoner himself seemed to be perfectly happy. He was sitting cross legged with his back against the wall and his eyes closed with a content smile on his face. If anything, he looked better than when he had left him yesterday. Though he was still covered in dirt and a little underweight, the bruises seemed to have faded away and the open cuts were no longer seeping blood.

 

When the governor approached, he opened his eyes and said cheerfully, "Why hello, governor. I was wondering when you would finally get yourself down here. Meltorith and I have been having so much fun, we couldn't wait for ya to get down here and join us."

 

Uthas gaped at the man and stuttered, "W-w-what did you do to him?"

 

"Huh? Oh, yea, poor Meltorith. Well, we were playin' around and he decided to get rough. I thought that was just all fine and dandy, but when it was my turn, he didn't seem to handle it as well as I thought he would. Must be that weak Angvardi constitution. After just an hour or so, he just kinda gave up and started cryin' like a baby. I tried to get him to come and play some more, but he didn't seem up to it."

 

A drop of sweat trickled down Uthas' back. This was something he had never encountered before and if he were completely honest with himself, it terrified him. He suddenly wanted to leave, but he couldn't will his feet to move. "What are you?"

 

The prisoner pointed at him with a filthy index finger, "Ahh, now that is the right question. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you started trying to meddle in things that you can't handle. I don't think I want to tell you at this time, but I can tell you that you most definitely don't want to get in my way."

 

The man beckoned at him with that same finger, "Come on in, governor, I think we need to come to a little understanin' before I leave."

 

Despite his terror, Uthas found his feet moving one in front of the other toward the center of the room. Sweat now covered his brow and his hands began to shake. Whatever this man was, he clearly had some sort of power that he, with all his knowledge of sorcery, couldn't explain.

 

"Well, you see, as long as something doesn't hamper me directly, I usually don't care," began the prisoner. His voice had lost most of the playfulness and sounded strangely like an officer berating one of his men. "I was perfectly happy to let you play your games because they really didn't conflict with my goals. We would have both gone about our lives and let Fate decide what happens."

 

He reached out and actually petted Uthas on the head. "Then, you decided to start meddling in things that you shouldn't be. That is when I decided to take action, and you didn't like that one bit, did you?"

 

"What are-are you talking about?"

 

"By the Immortals Themselves, man! The raid on this very temple! You know, the one where a bunch of your precious prisoners were freed and a heap of your priests were slaughtered." He paused and smiled again. "See there, you managed to get an answer even without buying me a drink. Oh well, just seeing your expression was worth it."

 

He absently tapped his chin saying, "Now, where was I? Oh yes. You like to meddle in the affairs of others, right? You poke and prod, pay and threaten, and manipulate things to get what you want. Well, when you decided to interfere in my affairs, I had to respond, see? You are a smart man, governor, you really are. The problem is that perhaps, you are a little too smart, and that is going to get you into trouble. You really should stay out of things that don't concern you because they are bigger than you are."

 

"I don't know what you are talking about."

 

"Come now, Uthas. Of course you do. I don't care about your games with the Empress or your intention to take over Angvard and all of Teladia. You can have them for all I care because it isn't like you would hold them for long. What I do care is when you start goin' around meddling with prophecy because that is going to just get you in trouble."

 

He grabbed Uthas by the collar and pulled him in close, "I don't want to see you trying to interfere with the Master of Magic or any of the prophecies surrounding him again, do you get me? He is my business, not yours. Play all you like with the thrones of mortals, but you will not get in my way regarding him. If you do, I will come back and interfere in your affairs again, and you won't be left standing when the dust is settled. Am I perfectly clear?"

 

Uthas couldn't do anything but nod eagerly. He had not been this terrified in recent memory.

 

The prisoner let go of him. "That spell on the girl was pretty cute, but it changed things that should not have been changed. You do something like that again, or try in any way to interfere in the One's life, I will do things to you that made what I did to your pet mage here look like child's play." Uthas couldn't help but look over the cowering Meltorith.

 

The prisoner smiled and said, "Well, now that that is clear, I think it is time for me to be going. I do hope you are smart enough not to try to send anyone after me. I will kill anyone who seems to be followin' my trail." With one hand, he grabbed the chain on his opposite wrist and lightly pulled on it. The steel cuff fell off as though it were made of cobwebs. He repeated the process with the other arm and both of his legs. When he was free, he said, "Oh, and to answer your question from last evening, my name is Growald." He patted Uthas on the cheek and walked out of the room.

 

Uthas just stood there trying to figure out what just happened. The only sound he heard other than Meltorith's sobs was a painful gargling from down the hall and the tinkering of bodies clad in mail falling to the ground. He fell to his knees and struggled vainly to stop his shaking hands.

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Ha! I called it! I thought it was Growald right away. But I didn't expect that Growald is some ultra-powerful being. I'm thinking he's one of the gods that has a stake in this...he reminds me a little of that one (Cruso or whatever his name is. I'm too lazy to look back, lol).

 

Anyway, I didn't catch anything grammatically with this update, so I'll leave it with: good chapter!

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Ami, you didn't think I would let such a fun I am Groot of a character like Growald just die, did you? Somewhere deep inside, you knew I would keep him around.

 

As for being an ultra-powerful being, well, um, well, that is for later revelations.

 

Brendo, it was meant to be a little startling and definitely was full of reversals. It will affect Uthas quite greatly in the future, but not yet.

 

 

 

As for the next chapter, I am taking the readers into a classroom. Princess Raella is getting some schooling on magic. I had considered putting this or something similar to it much earlier in the book as it will help spell out and clarify some of the details on magic in this world, but I didn't. I didn't want to break up the story too much with the minutia of magic. The novel to now has been about setting up the characters and the stage, now it is about developing and going into detail. These things will be a reoccurring theme for the rest of the saga and will have importance. Plus, the end of this chapter brings into play a major plot stimulant, so I managed to kill two birds with one stone by having the education part at this point of the story.

 

***Note: red text indicates later additions. It is there for the benefit of those who already read it.***

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

My king, the rivalry between the Wizards and the Prophets is only getting worse. I fear that the conflict will escalate from words and the occasional minor spell to full scale violence and murder. Something needs to be done or we will lose our most important wielders of magic.

 

— Report from Chief Battlemage Teaqe to King Rael

 

Wizard's College

Terula City

Kingdom of Terula

 

Though it was not a very tall structure, the Wizard's College nonetheless managed to be both imposing and awe inspiring. At its tallest point, the College was only five stories tall with a spire that peaked at just under seventy feet. Compared to the massive Royal Palace it stood next to, it was almost a dwarf. What it lacked in height it made up for in width and breadth. Rather than being tall, the College was spread out in order to provide its wizards and mages a great deal of private inner courtyards and rooms aplenty for training and experimentation. It was, by land area, the largest structure in Terula City, even larger than the Royal Palace. The only structure in all of Terula that was larger than it was the mighty Temple to the Tetrarchy in Saseverg.

 

The College, which housed both wizards and mages, was one of the oldest structures in the city. It alone had survived the terrible Sack of Ashes near the end of the First Era when the entire city had been burned to the ground. Its mighty walls and arches had suffered only superficial damage then, but had stood firm. The entire population of the city had taken refuge there and were protected by the powerful wielders of magic that attended. From that point on, the College had been given preeminent status within the kingdom, so much so that when it came time to select a capital for the newly reformed kingdom, the fairly insignificant city of Terula had been given the honor. That city became the capital of the Kingdom of Terula and its king had always reigned from next door.

 

All of the royal family had been taught there, even those who were not wizards, sorcerers, or mages. So it was with Raella. She had always been frightened of the giant structure and begged off actually having to enter the place when she stayed in the city. Her parents had humored her to a certain point, but now that she was eighteen, there was no getting around it.

 

Surrounded by four of the Royal Guard, she approached the massive metal gates that led into the courtyard. Unlike the hardened dark gray granite that made up the walls and most of the structure itself, the gate was of a blood red metal that glistened as though it were always covered in dew. She didn't know what type of metal it was, but she didn't care. The only other building she knew had such metal as part of its construction was the rival Wizard's College in Ravest.

 

The doors were open, as they usually were, so there was no need to wait for them to be slowly pulled apart. There was simply too much traffic in and out of the College to keep them closed except at night and during times of danger. Everyone around them glanced at her surreptitiously, but didn't approach the entourage. Raella was used to such treatment, even though she didn't like it. Wherever she went, people seemed afraid of her or of her guards. Her tutors always said that was just how things were for royalty, but she didn't accept that. Rare were the times when she was able to sneak out anonymously and be treated like a normal person. Those secret moments were wonderful and were well worth the trouble she got into on the occasions when she was discovered.

 

One man, though, didn't ignore them. He stood resolutely just outside the doors into the College and stared straight at Raella as they approached. He was a fairly young man, but he was dressed in the robes of a full wizard. When the princess approached, he gave her a curt bow and said simply, "I am Wizard Lorenez. I am to instruct you on this day. Follow me and do not stray, the College is dangerous for outsiders."

 

He didn't wait for a response, but did an about face and started walking into the College itself. The doors opened of their own accord and allowed them all to enter. Lorenez didn't speak as he led them through rooms, halls, and narrow passageways. They went up stairs and down them again. It took nearly five minutes for him to stop at a nondescript doorway and gesture with a wave of his hand for her to enter.

 

Their destination was a plain room lit by a single chandelier in the middle. Bookshelves full of books rested against the walls on their left and right. At the far wall was a polished wooden desk with various drawers beneath it. Its surface was covered with heaps of disorganized papers and books. Behind the desk was another shelf that had vials of colored liquids, bowls, needles, quills, and other assorted objects that Raella assumed were part of what a wizard needed for performing magic. In the right corner was a sturdy looking chest of dark black wood. There were two wooden chairs in the room, one behind the desk and another facing it with its back to the door.

 

The guards started to enter, but a scowl from the wizard gave them pause. Their eyes fell upon their charge, but when she didn't display any alarm, they took up positions outside the door. Lorenez closed the door, without locking it, before sitting behind the desk. Raella sat in the other chair and waited for her instructor to speak.

 

"Let me make this very clear, Princess Raella, I am a busy man. It was only at the command of the Grandmaster Wizard himself that I accepted the duty of instructing you. If you are quiet and pay attention, you will learn a great deal. If you do not focus and treat this as unimportant, then you will continue for the rest of your life in ignorance.

 

"As you have undoubtedly noticed, I am young for a full wizard. This is because I paid attention and took my studies seriously. The Grandmaster Wizard choose me because I know more than most twice my age. How did I get to such knowledge? Through studying and not neglecting my lessons. Do the same and you too will grow wise. Do you understand me?"

 

Raella nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

 

"The correct way to address a me is 'yes, Wizard Lorenez,'" he corrected. "From what I understand, you have already received minor tutoring in magic. I do not know what you have learned or from whom, so I shall spend today going through the basics. It is clear that you are not gifted in the Major Magical Arts, but I have been told that you are gifted nonetheless."

 

He pulled out a small vial of clear liquid and a bowl from his desk. After pouring the contents of the vial into the bowl, he gestured for her to pick up the bowl. She did hesitantly, and watched as he waved a hand over it and whispered an incantation. The liquid bubbled briefly before turning purple. It also began to emit a red mist that wafted up to the ceiling.

 

"Hmm, as I suspected," he muttered. "That was a simple Verification Potion and spell designed to help identify those who are magically gifted. Were you not gifted with some sort of magic, the liquid would not have bubbled up or changed color. Each type of magical gift presents itself with a different color. Yours confirms that you are indeed a clairvoyant by the color of the liquid and the mist it emitted. As that potion is attuned to your specific magical energy, it reacts based on what it senses.

 

"Colors are a common symbol in magic. Liquids tend to come in six basic colors ranging from red to purple. Each can help denote its purpose, though it also possesses opposites. Red typically indicates destruction, but many of the most powerful healing potions and magics are red as well. Orange typifies the power to create enchantments or rather, to make long lasting spells upon or within something, but many explosive potions which react immediately are orange. Yellow signifies the elemental powers of the world such as fire, water, and energy, but it also can mean warmth and light. Green personifies nature and things that grow, but they can also mean poisons, especially when mixed with red. Blue is the standard color for creation and the altercation of the common world such as charms and wards, but also is involved in things of the night and death. Purple is the color of seeing things both near and far that are not normally seen, but also is frequently found in things of the past.

 

"Gases are normally broken into four colors. Red indicates power and strength. Yellow tells of diversity and multiple purposes. Green usually means that the magic or potion is very focused and has a narrow scope. Blue deals with things of the future, be they prophecy or delayed effect magic.

 

He paused and looked shook his head. "Now, to be truthful, that is an extreme oversimplification of things. There is a myriad of combinations and mixtures among these colors that all have their own important meanings, but do not worry about those now. Only the truly gifted are required to learn those. The simple guide I just gave you is sufficient for an amateur to know.

 

"Perhaps a demonstration is in order. Let us take you, for instance, and the reading that the Verification Potion just gave you. The purple liquid tells me that you are gifted with seeing things not normally visible to others. Now, if the mist that came out of the potion had been blue, a symbol of the future, then you would have been a seer as that is what the female version of a prophet is. But since it was red, a symbol of power, it indicates that you are a clairvoyant. We don't know exactly why clairvoyants are given the air of power because they cannot perform any actual spells, but that is what the gods have selected for them. Perhaps the gods themselves view your gifts with more power than we mortals do.

 

"If we were to perform the Verification upon myself, a wizard, it would show me as having red liquid of destruction and red mist of power. Wizards are the most powerful of all wielders of magic and are capable of great destruction. Now, take an alchemist. They are not really considered wielders of magic, but they do have the touch of it so they register with this spell. Their liquid is green, the color of nature, and the mist is green, the symbol of focus. They are capable of using the natural world of plants, minerals, and animals to produce potions and alchemical mixtures. It is a very focused gift with little diversity. They can't cast elemental spells or enchant things or perform hexes. Mages have a yellow liquid indicating their affinity with the elements. Their yellow air is an indication of the diversity of their gifts which can range from destructive spells to healing and even basic conjuration.

 

"Each different classification of the magical gifts has their own combination that is unique to them with the exception of seers and prophets who are both the same. I know it may seem silly to you for me to spend so much time and effort on the subject of colors, but it has a very complex and important role within magic itself. Colors, shapes, words, and actions are the four ways magic is performed. Colors is but the first of those things, but as you learn more, you will see that they are truly fundamental to the others."

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Ooh, interesting. I like this chapter. It's a good bit of theory and if you say it'll be important later, I'm definitely willing to believe you. I bet with Syler the Verification spell would give very interesting results...

 

One thing:

Its mighty walls and arches had suffered only superficial damage then, but had stood firm.

 

This is a double conditional. Either say "had suffered only superficial damage then, and had stood firm" or "had suffered superficial damage then, but had stood firm."

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Ugh... it is taking so long to catch up! I mean, I like reading the story a lot, but I constantly feel the pressures of being behind, lol! Ok, got through Chapters 13 & 14 this time, had lots of comments on 13 in particular. since it's easy to just go into specific comments, I did want to stop and specifically say that I am still greatly enjoying the large story you're rolling out before us, with all of its intricacy.

 

Chapter 13

For the One to come to full realization, he must first do that which cannot be undone.

Four lives shall he take: one in defense, one in anger, one in combat, and one in revenge.

Very cool tie-in to the battle. I guess that's the thing about prophecy, eh? The governor and Growald (not together per se, although I wouldn't be surprised if they were at least partially in league together) figured that if they put Syler in a situation where he was sure to be angry and sure to have to fight, there was a good enough change it would at least start this sequence to come to "full realization" if not finish it. It also reminded me that while we're still rooting for a hero that makes the right, moral choices (which Syler is struggling to continue to do), he is not a hero which comes out neat and squeaky-clean. He's meted out punishment to the death on some people who could arguably not deserve it (punishment for wrong-doing or omission of right, yes, but an offensive death.... maybe not) and will undoubtedly do so again in the future, even if (we hope) he settles down to resolutely, if not happily, destroy evil more calmly. I think it's a more gritty development than many I've seen - more Batman than Aragorn, if that makes sense? Anywho, it makes for very interesting and real character development while still solidly keeping a hero we can root for.

 

Two particular nitpicks:

Though it was barely above a whisper, it served to send tingles down his back.
This sentence stood out to me as particularly passive voice when it had no need to be. I would suggest remove "served to" and change "send" to "sent" to make it more active voice.
"That was always the plan from the moment Growald told us of your plan."

Change one of the uses of "plan" to another word for more variation.

 

I'm still figuring out what I think of Growald. My impression of him did go up when he gave the noble speech of action against evil for the safeguarding of the helpless, and yet even then I would hope he regrets the loss of life (as Syler does). This aspect seems to be missing - any means to serve the goal, and I'm still not certain that his end goals and motivations will be fully aligned with where they should be. He seems to want to use Syler like a tool, just as Uthas, to accomplish whatever of Syler's purposes align with his but only to that extent - anywhere they diverge paths, I think he would willingly mislead or even destroy Syler... just like Uthas. And speaking of which - man, poor Bronwyn! You have definitely just changed the entire landscape of the rest of the book with this pain and limitation (exactly like Uthas planned, even if he never meant her to find refuge from the pain at all). Hopefully Syler will be able to fully restore her to health somehow!

 

I do have to say that while this chapter seemed equally planned as the others in regard to dialogue and specifically moving forward the plot with regards to Bronwyn's affliction, character development with Bronwyn, Syler, Growald, and getting the group split up and out of the city, I don't think the execution was as good as other chapters. There were a few missing words and a lot of places which needed commas in my estimation, but mainly what was missing was the action, tone, and description to surround and support the dialogue. I think this was most evident with the skirmish between Growald and Syler, as other alluded to, but it was missing throughout the entire chapter. Whether it was Syler waiting for Bronwyn to speak, either him or Growald growing angrier, or Alltis turning away in disgust you are not using the emotional impact which could be present to its fullest, and in some places the sudden mentions seem out of place without the build up which would make them natural.

 

Here are just a few examples pulled out, but you need to work on it throughout the chapter. I know from earlier discussions that these are some of the parts you struggle with most.

 

Syler remained with Bronwyn for another fifteen minutes hoping she would say something more. When it was clear she was not going to say anything, he got up and walked over to where Growald was conferring with Tald.

Not saying anything doesn't do justice to Bronwyn's damaged withdrawal or the helplessness Syler feels in the face of it. Tell us about Bronwyn staring straight ahead with empty, haunted eyes, not seeing any of the people walking or talking in front of her. Tell us about how she doesn't seem to hear her speak her name, about how her limbs or leaden and must be prompted to movement by someone else, how she shivers suddenly for no reason. Tell us how Syler needs to do something to help her, and so he gets up to try to help her by getting them out of the city because he is helpless to bring her out of her damaged world right then.

 

Syler buried his face in his palms and shook his head in sadness. "Look at your men, Growald. See how few of them came out. You went in with two score men, yet only ten returned. The women have been brutalized and will live with the scars of what happened to them there forever." His face began to redden and he had to fight to keep his voice down. "This day should have never happened, it is a disgrace that it ever did."

This is just one snippet of this building-up-to-a-fight scene, but it is symptomatic of this whole part. Within three sentences he goes from burying his face in sadness to trying not to yell. Granted, that's feasible, but it needs a little more coaxing to make it so. Here's an example alternative, although more drawn out than what you need to constantly keep up throughout the dialogue:

Syler shook his head resignedly. He swiped the sweat at his brow, then turned the movement into a large sweep that encompassed the weary, injured people around them. "Look at your men, Growald. See how few of them came out." He jabbed his hand towards a Sei man tightening the bloody bandage around his thigh to better apply pressure on the wound. "You went in with two score men, yet only ten returned. The women have been brutalized and will live with the scars of what happened to them there forever." As the full impact of their losses set in, his jaw clenched with a slow-building anger. "This day should have never happened. It is a disgrace that it ever did."

 

I do agree with you that adrenaline would still be a part of this battle, but I would argue that while Growald is still running on adrenaline and stamina, having been trained for longer hauls, Syler is already more than exhausted and would not doubt start losing adrenaline to pure exhaustion as soon as they reached their hiding place. He's not trained to sustain himself past the actual battle, nor does he consider it his responsibility to get them out past this point, despite still having the goal to. So yes, he is still angry and touchy, but I would argue that he is fighting for bursts of adrenaline but mostly through exhaustion, versus Growald's more level-headed stamina.

 

My last critique is that I wouldn't expect Bronwyn to able to so carefully verbalize all of her pain in neat, descriptive sentences while still in a semi-comatose state for the majority of the time. She could explain somewhat or in more stilted sentences perhaps, and a more full description of it later when she has had a day to recover and seems to be more capable of movement, speech and though, but she seems to jump from non-responsive to brief, strange moments of complete and clear conversation almost too cleanly.

 

Chapter 14

I thought that this chapter was back to the level of earlier works - again, I think having a lot of action mixed with dialogue is much more natural for you to write.

 

I have to say, the more I see Alltis and Havert together the more I lik them together. And I'm glad that Lamastus joined them, although it does screw with the group dynamics! I was slightly confused, though - in his explanation it seemed like he was out patrolling the farmlands and yet able to easily run to Syler's house. Was he on a rotation back in the city for the night to rest and thus able to do this? Or did he actually slip away from his patrol then, rather than just after Syler made his "break" for it.

 

I'm not convinced that the assassin was aiming to kill Bronwyn, although clearly that is the most obvious conclusion to all of them at this point. If Growald or one of his men was reporting to Uthas it's possible he would know by now that the curse didn't work, but it seems highly unlikely. And even if he did, I don't think the answer would be to kill her. That would allow Syler to focus again too quickly, and he'd be gunning directly for revenge rather than completing his task, most likely. The other options for the operative is that he was just to report and bring back information on their progress and whether the spell worked, or to kill any other companions with the two of them to keep them isolated, aka Havert and Alltis. And... I just have to throw it out because I love guessing, even though I find it highly unlikely in this case and hope it's not since I really like Lamastus as a character, but it's always possible that he is the operative. Just saying. Speaking of which..

 

Lamastus' face grew just as dark as Syler's and he uttered a few curses that Syler had never heard before. "Of all the barbaric things to do, that has got to be the lowest I have heard. If there was ever a sign that Governor Uthas was unworthy of my devotion, that was it."
Was this remark simply because this happened on Uthas' watch and he did not allow them to intervene, or does Lamastus know enough to realize that Uthas has the power to wield a spell like that or might have been involved? I'm not sure if it is known that the Governor can do magic to those who have lived there longer or not.

 

I really like how you showed us some of the expanding ripples from Syler fulfilling the prophecy. I'm interested to see how you continue to use the princess and the prophet, and what prophecies or events they are reacting to (obviously the Master of Magic to some extent, but the details).

 

Past that, the minor critiques are:

She had been fading in and out of consciousness throughout the journey, but she wasn't able to stay awake for long and hadn't been completely coherent when she was.
Outside of the not completely coherent part, it reads like you just saw the same thing twice - granted, they are slightly different in that the first is frequency and the second is duration, but it just reads really funny, and almost contradictory because of the "but."
That edginess took its toll and they were on edge and easily provoked.

Take one of those edges out.

 

Outside f that, I think Ami caught all of the other grammatical stuff I noticed on this chapter. I would second her comment on better explaining the bedrolls and where the supplies came from. You should be able to do it within two sentences, and it's much better than having the reader think that they are surviving by magic fairy deliveries.

 

To the point of Growald (you and Ami also had a dialogue on this) - I know you're talking about test readers as well and part of that may be reading it in various sittings, but from what I recall (without having gone back to confirm) the mission planning seemed pretty cordial. Even though they still needed each other somewhat, you could add a little more arguing or at least teeth-cleaning to heighten the idea of the continued level of dislike - I think it would be worthwhile to specifically to an editing pass-through with that in mind. While a lot of the reasons you mentioned in your post to Ami are easily understandable and perhaps subtly there, it wasn't enough to register a strong impression. When you have Syler hold back because he doesn't think it worth it or the right time, a lot of times it is done with a brief mention and so we don't catch the full level of tension which is there.

 

My two cents. Still trying to catch up!

"It's always these little worlds that get you in trouble. Like Tatooine. I'm still living that one down." - Han Solo

Your barnacle has carnivorous salamanders the size of whales.

"Let us hold unswervingly to the faith we profess, for he who promised is faithful." -Heb. 10:23

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Well, I wasn't going to be coming out with an update until tomorrow, but if you took the time to write out such a long and detailed feedback post, it would be excessively rude of me not to respond to it.

 

The governor and Growald (not together per se, although I wouldn't be surprised if they were at least partially in league together) figured that if they put Syler in a situation where he was sure to be angry and sure to have to fight, there was a good enough change it would at least start this sequence to come to "full realization" if not finish it.

Did they put him into the situation, or did Fate put them all into it? Prophecy is such a fun thing, I really wish I could go into it as much as I have it planned out in my head. It would just end up being boring and out of place.

 

I think it's a more gritty development than many I've seen - more Batman than Aragorn, if that makes sense?

It makes complete sense. Syler is not perfect. He is going to make mistakes, both morally and in his decisions (as comes up in a few more chapters). He is going to have issues and flaws. There will be times when he crosses even the grey line and goes into the darkness. He will be tempted, he will be messed with, he will be broken, he will be remade. Some of that has already been written and posted, but a good portion of it will be coming up at the end of this book and the first half of the second. Trust me on this: I have a massively explosive conclusion to this novel already planned and I think it will be worth reading.

 

This sentence stood out to me as particularly passive voice when it had no need to be. I would suggest remove "served to" and change "send" to "sent" to make it more active voice.

This has now been fixed. I am not going to go back and edit the post, but it is fixed in the master document.

 

"That was always the plan from the moment Growald told us of your plan."

Change one of the uses of "plan" to another word for more variation.

Changed the first use to "idea." Good catch.

 

I'm still figuring out what I think of Growald.

*Crackles evilly*

Growald is a fun one. The up to date readers have been given a few breadcrumbs, but I don't think anyone yet can guess his true part in all of this. Your other statements in that paragraph are quite astute, but you are still missing some of the pieces. All I will say right now is that I am very happy with how you perceived him and noticed him, but perhaps you saw TOO much. You might figure it out before I want you to, so I might have to make him even more vague in the second draft.

 

I do have to say that while this chapter seemed equally planned as the others in regard to dialogue and specifically moving forward the plot with regards to Bronwyn's affliction, character development with Bronwyn, Syler, Growald, and getting the group split up and out of the city, I don't think the execution was as good as other chapters. There were a few missing words and a lot of places which needed commas in my estimation, but mainly what was missing was the action, tone, and description to surround and support the dialogue.

That is something I will definitely keep in mind for the second draft. A LOT is going to be changed in that draft. The farther I go (am at 180,000 words now), the better I can grasp exactly what needs to be where. I am trying to improve even within the span of writing this, but I hope to go back over this with a fine tooth comb and really redo a lot of the flaws. This first draft is more about getting the bones out and just getting it done period. There are a lot of places where I may actually double the size of the chapter just with descriptions of things and places. I have noticed that I generally lack a lot of description and thoughts and history. Some of that is because I am still developing everything solidly, others are simply because I am trying to get things on "paper" so that I can have that out.

 

Not saying anything doesn't do justice to Bronwyn's damaged withdrawal or the helplessness Syler feels in the face of it.

Spectacular point, as are the next few, but, as with some of your earlier suggestions, it will have to be something that is addressed in the second draft. I can fix simple errors now, but I don't want to get caught up in rewriting things at the expense of moving this on. My fear is that if I am not careful, I will not actually finish this first novel. I don't want that at all.

 

I was slightly confused, though - in his explanation it seemed like he was out patrolling the farmlands and yet able to easily run to Syler's house. Was he on a rotation back in the city for the night to rest and thus able to do this? Or did he actually slip away from his patrol then, rather than just after Syler made his "break" for it.

All I will say is that several hours (possibly upward of six) have passed since the actual attack on the Temple and when he arrived. Plus, keep in mind this part: "When word came to me that something had happened at the Temple." There was more than enough time for him to have been out on regular patrol and for word to come that something had happened. Also, they had been on patrol before the attack, so that may have been the issue. Either way, I am content with how it was described and went over that entire part many times for reasons I will keep to myself for now.

 

I'm not convinced that the assassin was aiming to kill Bronwyn, although clearly that is the most obvious conclusion to all of them at this point.

I never said that Syler was right or wrong. You seem to have a few interesting theories, but I think I will keep my mouth shut on that and let you find out.

 

I'm interested to see how you continue to use the princess and the prophet, and what prophecies or events they are reacting to (obviously the Master of Magic to some extent, but the details).

The princess (Raella) will be a major character, though not in this book. She gets another part in a chapter in just a bit, but it really is less about her and more about her mother, the Empress. Ironically, though, the chapter I am writing now (31) features here and will be the catalyst for her rise in importance. The prophet Aitin will also play an important part, though less in this novel and more in the second and perhaps the third. As for their reaction, in this case, it was specifically about Syler coming into his powers. I think it is described later, but to make it clear, until this point, he has not had his most prominent ability. He had a few minor things, but by killing those four men and doing that which cannot be undone (death), he has activated the rest. Now, he doesn't know how to use them yet, but he has them. That event in general is the most important singular event in prophetic history. It is now setting into motion all the other prophecies that hinge on him. Without that activation, those prophecies would have remained dormant. Many prophecies have manifested themselves as false because of this, but some have set themselves as true. Ahhh, the fun with prophecy. If only I had the time to go into it all at this point. I think I am going to have a really large section in the second book that does touch it.

 

Outside of the not completely coherent part, it reads like you just saw the same thing twice - granted, they are slightly different in that the first is frequency and the second is duration, but it just reads really funny, and almost contradictory because of the "but."

Changed it to the following:

She had been fading in and out of consciousness throughout the journey. When she was conscious for those few precious minutes, she was not completely coherent.

 

Take one of those edges out.

Changed to:

That edginess took its toll making their tempers short and easily provoked.

 

I would second her comment on better explaining the bedrolls and where the supplies came from. You should be able to do it within two sentences, and it's much better than having the reader think that they are surviving by magic fairy deliveries.

Okay, I will go back into the last chapter and put in that the horses they were stealing had some supplies on them. They were, after all, meant for scouting and scouts often spend the night in the field.

 

To the point of Growald (you and Ami also had a dialogue on this) - I know you're talking about test readers as well and part of that may be reading it in various sittings, but from what I recall (without having gone back to confirm) the mission planning seemed pretty cordial.

I will definitely consider it. I forgot the conversation Ami and I had, but thinking back on the story itself, there is a simple explanation. First, in the planning stage, they were nice and calm. Now, they are on the run, tempers are short, adrenaline is pumping, they have just killed people (especially a shock for Syler), and (again for Syler) Bronwyn is hurt. Plus, Growald is in front of his men and in his element, he doesn't like being challenged. Other than that, I believe some of it has to do with Growald's character himself and as yet unrevealed things. I will go over it and pay extra attention in the second draft. And yes, I will be going back and reading these notes when I write it so I don't miss things.

 

Thanks for reading, and even more, thanks for responding in such detail. I do greatly appreciate it.

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Sorry about the delay, but this is a little more complex writing than normal. I am defining and clarifying and quantifying magic and how it is performed. I have had a good idea how I wanted to present this, but getting all the details ironed out is difficult and time consuming. I have notes that are nearly as long as the chapter itself just to help me keep it all straight. Anyway, more of the potentially dry and boring lecture regarding magic. A lot is explained here, even more than before. It basically gives a general overview on magic and how it functions with a few technical parts thrown in. And, to help create a good visual image, I am seriously pondering creating the chart described at the beginning here with all the shapes and symbols. I already had a basic language written out, but scrapped it because I didn't like how it turned out. I think it will be a lot more interesting to come up with a magical symbolic language and combine it with the shapes and whatnot on a cool parchment like background.

 

Anyway, sorry for the boring lecture, but perhaps you may find it at least somewhat interesting. This piece is almost completely dialogue and there is a LOT of meat in it. Also note, this isn't the end of the chapter. As it stands, the whole thing is less than 4000 words and it isn't ending where I wanted it. I did want to get this out here for you guys so you didn't have to digest so much at once. The last part will be a demonstration that has quite dire repercussions.

 

***Note: red text indicates later additions. It is there for the benefit of those who already read it.***

 

_____________________________

 

He paused while he put the bowl with the remaining liquid still in it on one of his shelves to be disposed of later. He reached into his desk once more and rummaged through various papers until he found a chart on parchment. He spread it out on top of his desk so that Raella could see what was on it.

 

She furrowed her brows in confusion. Instead of words, there were dozens of symbols and geometric shapes. Some shimmered in various colors, others were made of plain black ink. She couldn't make anything of it, but a few of them looked familiar. "What is this?" she asked.

 

"This is a beginner's primer on various shapes and symbols of power," he answered. "I don't expect you to learn them all today, but you will have them learned by the time you return to Angvard. You should be able to clearly differentiate between the shapes and symbols."

 

Raella struggled to keep a frown off of her face. She found learning about magic fascinating, but she loathed studying. She preferred to learn by watching people or going out and seeing things with her own eyes. Being locked away with musty books and scrolls was not her idea of fun.

 

"The shapes have names of their own," he continued, oblivious to her disdain, "but are not part of an actual language. They rarely invoke magic itself, but rather channel it. Magic simply spoken is often weaker than it can be. Magic spoken and mixed with gestures is more powerful. Combined with geometric shapes, spells can greatly increase their potency. Finally, if the appropriate color is incorporated, often in the form of coloring the shapes themselves, the spell would be at its strongest.

 

"Each basic types of shape tend to denote their own type of spell. Star polygons of various complexity are symbols of raw power and are used to strengthen spells. Simple polygons such as squares, hexagons, or even irregular polygons are used to draw focus into something and concentrate the spell into a specific area. Curves such as circles and ovals are a symbol of the future because they literally bend perception to where what comes later is viewed now. When people combine straight polygons and curved shapes into a single shape, it denotes diversity or dilutes the spell's effective range. Usually, it means it is a combination of a long term spell that starts immediately and lasts for a determined amount of time before fading away.

 

"The symbols, on the other hand, are most definitely part of a language. Wizards call the language 'Falreas,' but other magical schools sometimes have their own name for it. You often hear practitioners speaking in a strange language while performing magic. That is the recitation of these symbols that helps initiate the magic. In most cases, voice or gesture initiates the spell which is then formed through shape and color. Some spells work better when formed and attuned with written symbols while others require it."

 

"Someone preparing a spell will often use multiple shapes at different points and of different colors to alter magic to their will. Frequently, they will even use shapes with symbols to emphasize or deemphasize that particular symbol. Those, when used in conjunction with spoken words and gestures form the spell and send it out into the world.

 

He opened a drawer on the side of his desk and began rummaging through it. "Spells that are written can actually be saved for later. They can be completed at a time when it is more convenient, or saved for instruction. Occasionally, master Wizards will have apprentices do the more tedious aspects of their spells to save time. They will then perform the spells when—ahh, there it is," he said as he pulled out a peculiarly folded piece of thin orange paper. "As I was saying, the apprentices take care of the mundane parts of their spells while the master works on the complex ones. It is a beneficial process indeed as the apprentices grow more comfortable with magic and the master saves time."

 

He set the piece of paper on top of a small pile of books sitting on his desk and pointed it out to her. "Note the way that this is folded. When performing magic, the lines and shapes can be many, many things. In this case, the folds themselves help accentuate the spell itself in addition to the drawings within."

 

He meticulously unfolded the paper and showed her that the inside was covered in various symbols and geometric shapes that fit together so intricately that she thought it looked like a jumble of needles dropped onto the ground. The entire thing was drawn in multiple colors that seemed to blur together. She feared that even were she to study such a thing for weeks, she would never make sense of it all.

 

"See how there are many symbols facing all different directions. Some are along specific lines. Some are upside down, some are at an angle. A few words intersect and overlap each other. Some are larger than others, some are more bolded. Every single detail of this spell was carefully orchestrated and planned. A master Wizard could spend an entire day creating a spell of this complexity, and that would be just the written part and not including the rituals and the potions and the spoken words that could go into it."

 

Raella's eyes bulged a little in surprise mixed with a tinge of fear. She didn't want to have to learn something that complex, it was too much. She thanked the gods profusely for not making her a witch or a mage if this was the type of things they had to do. "What does this do?"

 

Lorenez shrugged, "This, it is a protection ward. It is mostly complete, just needs a simple activation phrase and a touch of my magic to release it."

 

He put the page aside and cleared his throat. "I guess a little information on how spells are formed would be in order," he said while putting the chart away. "The vast majority of people in the world are unable to even sense magic. Yes, they see the effects of magic, but not magic itself. To see magic, one has to be born with the gift, something given to us by the gods themselves through the benevolence of Tantis himself.

 

"Spells can start off in a variety of ways. Some are started from within an individual and are expressed with a gesture or word. Others are formed outside the individual on paper, in sand, or within an object or potion. This is usually called the creation phase. Only someone with a magical gift can actually create a spell because it requires the ability to summon magical energies into play.

 

"The next step is the formation phase of the spell itself. In this process, the summoned magic is molded into the desired spell. If someone wants to make a ward against lightning, then this would be the part where they turn the magic into an elemental form that repulses energy as opposed to, say, a healing spell. To form the spell, a caster will use either words, symbols, or gestures to express his desires. As before, only someone who has the appropriate magical gift could do such a thing.

 

"Once the spell is formed, it can be enhanced in the attunement phase. This is an optional step as once most spells have been formed, it is capable of going on to the next step on its own. Those who have the time and experience to attune their spells generally produce far stronger spells that are better focused. This step is needed for the completion of the more complex spells as the basic spell is unsuitable for certain things like targeted healing of a broken bone or enchantments. In this process, colors can be used in addition to the other three methods of expression. Obviously, someone has to possess the gift in order to attune spells.

 

"Once the spell is ready, it needs a target and enters the direction phase. It may seem obvious, but every part of a spell has been meticulously categorized and documented so that it can be perfectly understood. By now, the spell is fully ready to be used and only needs some sort of trigger or target to be released. This can be done in one of many ways. Sometimes, it is through looking somewhere. For the gifted, it can be done in their minds or by aiming their hands. Sometimes, it can be linked through magic or some other means to the target that is far away.

 

"Some spells require two directional steps. Enchanters, charmers, and alchemists focus this into the armor or amulet or potion they are using. That is the first or primary directional phase where the magic is sent into the item in preparation for its final directional phase. The final directional phase is the first that does not need a gifted individual to perform as a non-gifted man can just as easily benefit from a ward, thrown charm, or a potion. In that case, they are the final user and give the spell its true destination.

 

"Once everything is ready and the spell has its direction, it enters the release phase. This is where the spell is actually unleashed upon its target. It can be as basic as a lightning bolt shooting from a mage's fingers to a draining spell attaching to its victim and starting to drain his life away. While most spells must be done by a gifted individual, there are some spells such as wards or charms that can actually be released by non-gifted.

 

"Lastly, the spell must pass into its fulfillment phase. This is where the spell has completed its task and dissipates into nothingness. A spell can last for a split second or for centuries. Some spells have yet to be fulfilled and still hold power. Using my previous example of a draining spell, the spell would not have entered its fulfillment phase until it was either countered by another spell or the individual's life had been completely drained.

 

"That sums up the part of the lecture involving magic and spells," he said as he leaned back to grab a cup that had been lying on its side from the shelf behind him. He held it in front of him in his left hand and rubbed the tip of his ring finger around the rim. There was a little gurgling from within the cup that continued until he removed the finger. After taking a drink from the cup, he continued. "Now, we are going to be moving into a quick review of the individuals involved in magic. As you are most certainly aware, everyone is born either with a specific magical gift or completely without any. There is no changing between the two, you are either with magic for life or without it for life.

 

"There are two basic groups of magic wielders: those who are naturally able to use their magic and those who must learn it. There are some, such as magical alchemists, charmers, seers, and clairvoyants such as yourself that can only sense magic, but not actually perform spells. Their abilities are inherent, meaning that they are just part of them and don't need to be learned. If locked in a cell for their entire lives and never able to speak to another soul or read a book, they would still be able to use their magical abilities. They wouldn't be able to use them well, but they would be able to use them. For individuals like alchemists and charmers, their skills with magic is inherent, but their knowledge of various mixtures and charms must be learned. Still, what separates them from commoners is that a common man can mix the exact same ingredients the exact same way, but get nothing more than a bad smelling liquid while, in the hands of an alchemist, it is a potent healing potion capable of saving a person's life.

 

"The other group includes most everyone else who can use magic. Wizards, sorcerers, mages, conjurers, and their female counterparts fall into this category. They are what we call dependent wielders of magic since they depend on education and learning to perform their magic. A wizard doesn't just wake up one day able to cast flames or perform a hex. They must learn these things either through self education and experimentation or by being taught via instructor or book.

 

"Interestingly, there is a notable school that falls into both categories. Prophets, the males who can see the future, are a combination of these two groups. Their ability to receive prophecy is inherent, but their ability to interpret it and perform spells is dependent. Prophets are also odd in that they possess a slight ability to perform spells akin to the level of a simple conjuror. A very small number of prophets manage to develop their dependent skills to the level of a minor mage, but that is almost always after a great deal of effort and experience. Despite the general similarity between their gifts, seers, women who sense the future in their own unique way, are completely inherent and are unable to cast even the most simple of spells."

 

"Why are they like that?" Raella asked. "Why is it that only prophets can use magic, but seers can't?"

 

He eyed her with disdain for a moment for the interruption, but he did answer. "As the gods for only they know. It has always been that way since the beginning of Formation. Prophets are a strange lot. They are always scurrying about acting so wise and learned when I believe most of it is nothing but prideful bluster. They are an arrogant crowd of eccentric men who are ambiguous enough to cover themselves when they are wrong. They play both sides down the middle, claiming that a prophecy warns of one thing, but could also be an allegory of the exact opposite. I do not place much stock in prophecy or the visions of the seers and neither should you, princess."

 

"Just to refresh your memory, I will go over the classifications of spells, as well. Just as there are different schools of magic, there are different types of spells. The two most basic classifications are direct and indirect magic. Each has subcategories and sometimes, even those have categories. While we can sit here and try to classify all spells into these little categories, in truth, they are little but a rough guide. There are entire libraries that could be filled with research and commentary on the so called 'crossover spells' that borrow from multiple types.

 

"Direct magic is the most simple to comprehend. Someone casts a spell and it performs its task and then is done with. For instance, me casting a fireball is an example of elemental direct magic. Once I send the fireball at its target, the spell is over. These are usually short term spells that last only a few seconds or minutes and must be performed while the target is in sight or close by due to their very nature. Some of the fields of direct magic include elemental, natural, necromantic, and perception, though that is hardly all of them.

 

"Indirect magic is a little more complex. This type of magic is typically delayed or, rather, not directly activated or resolved. A good example of this is a magical charm. If someone makes a charm that sets forth a wave of fire upon release, that spell is not fulfilled or resolved. The magic was started when the charm was made, but that charm may last for years or decades before it is released. Only once the ward is activated and the fire erupts is the spell actually fulfilled. Since the individual who created the ward is not always present or nearby, it is considered indirectly related to his magic. Wards and enchantments function in a similar manner, except they are not normally meant for single uses.

 

"Though part of the indirect magical classification, hexes are a different story. Just to be clear, hexes refer not just to harmful curses, but to any spell that affects a living thing over a long duration. By long duration, I mean more than a few minutes. Thus, healing spells don't normally apply, though vitality spells that boost the body's strength do because they can last for hours or days. In this case, a practitioner prepares and casts the spell which then resides within the life that it was attached to until its course is run through. What that course is depends on what the spell was. Typically, these must be cast on someone within sight or close by, though if there is a great emotional bond or there was a sustaining spell on the individual, it can be cast over great distances, even hundreds of miles.

 

"This concludes the review lecture," he announced. "Now, for the hands on demonstration of magic in its various forms."

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Wow...that was really deep. First off, I applaud you for thinking up all of this. You clearly have very specific and detailed ideas of what magic consists of and how it's used. I assume since you're giving us all of this, it's going to play a very large role in the rest of the story.

 

As far as this section is written: I'd suggest breaking up those walls of dialogue at least a little. Say that he opens a new book to show her when he starts talking on a different topic. Have Raella try to interrupt with a question and get impatiently told to wait by the wizard. Heck, even say that the wizard scratches his chin or something. Just break it up a little bit here and there, and it'll flow more naturally. Otherwise it is like sitting down to a lecture. I know that's kind of what you're going for, but you can accomplish the same thing without it feeling like a lecture for the reader as well. Keep us reminded that we're reading a book.

 

That's my suggestion anyway. I can see three topic changes, and you can put something small in there and even that would be enough.

 

I really hope that the demonstration is thorough, because I had questions nagging me the whole time I was reading this. If I was Raella, I wouldn't have just sat quietly and listened...I'd be bursting with them. This is a great opportunity to use Raella to represent the reader, and I hope you take advantage of it. My biggest questions right now come with the colors and shapes. Maybe I'll hold off asking them until I read the rest of the chapter, for the demonstration might answer them, but know that they are bothering me right now, as a learner of your magic system.

 

Two grammar things right next to each other:

 

"Each basic type of shapes tend to denote their own type of spell. Star polygons of various complexity, are symbols of raw power and are used to strengthen spells.

 

Should be "Each basic type of shape tends", and then in the second sentence, get rid of the comma.

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Fixed the typos you pointed out.

 

As for breaking the dialogue, I believe I will do that tonight (or tomorrow). My major concern with this part was to get it all sorted and get it down. I wasn't trying to make it frilly or anything, but now that it is down, I will go back and enhance it a bit.

 

If I was Raella, I wouldn't have just sat quietly and listened...I'd be bursting with them.

It is never wise to interrupt a wizard, Ms. Skywalker.

 

Seriously, if you have questions, please let me know what they are. Ask them because if you have them, then the other readers might have them too and I should answer them. As someone who wrote it, it is hard for me to know what questions there are or what I am lacking in. Just as a teacher must ask the class for questions rather than just coming up with them hypothetically, so I must ask my readers what questions they have. If there are a substantial number of them, I may just bypass some of the demonstration part and replace it with questions and answers. Or, I may have a series of mini question and answer sessions between each of the major breaks.

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Alright, then.

 

With shapes and colors...how do you use those when actually casting a spell? Do you say the color? Do you wave around a piece of cloth that is that color? Do you summon the color from stuff around you? How about the shape? Do you draw it in the air as a gesture? Do you just picture the shape in your mind's eye? What if you're suddenly distracted by something? Will the spell take on an unexpected result? Like, you're thinking of something green and suddenly something red catches your eye. Does the spell change focuses?

 

Is there a way to break spells, or take back ones you've cast? What if you get a spell wrong, like you accidentally make it a long-lasting one instead of a short-term one? Is there a way to fix that?

 

I'll give you those to start off with.

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With shapes and colors...how do you use those when actually casting a spell? Do you say the color? Do you wave around a piece of cloth that is that color? Do you summon the color from stuff around you? How about the shape? Do you draw it in the air as a gesture? Do you just picture the shape in your mind's eye? What if you're suddenly distracted by something? Will the spell take on an unexpected result? Like, you're thinking of something green and suddenly something red catches your eye. Does the spell change focuses?

I will definitely address those in my rewrite.

 

What if you get a spell wrong, like you accidentally make it a long-lasting one instead of a short-term one?

250px-Operation_Upshot-Knothole_-_Badger_001.jpg

 

 

Just kidding, but I will address all of those questions soon.

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Alright, I have gone through and extensively added and worked that chapter. I also completed it. Fun stuff. I went back and edited the last two parts and highlighted the new additions in red so you could skim them without having to read the entire thing again. I hope I didn't miss anything, but that is possible.

 

I hope I explained things far better now. Instead of having a large demonstration part only at the end, I had a smaller one in the middle (right after the color/shape/symbol part) and another, smaller one at the end. If you still have questions, well, this is just an overview. Go ahead and ask them and I can answer (unless I intentionally want to keep it secret) or perhaps, if it is really good, go back in and add it.

 

The third part of this chapter is just 1663 words long, but overall, this chapter (especially with its additions) is quite long.

 

 

 

__________________________________

 

 

He reached back to the shelf behind his desk and nabbed a blank parchment and a set of colored inks. It took him a minute to clear off his desk enough to allow him to have space to work. While he was doing that, Raella sat quietly as was appropriate and watched with interest.

 

"There now," said Lorenez once they could see half of the polished wood that made up the top of his desk. He stood up, walked across the room, and reached into a brown bag that rested on a peg in the wall. From it, he pulled out a small beech twig with a few brown leaves still clinging on.

 

"I will quickly demonstrate a basic rejuvenation spell. This spell is something even a simple conjuror could perform, but it will serve well to show you the processes I explained above."

 

He set the twig to the side and pulled the stoppers off of his inks. "Notice that I have the six basic colors here," he pointed out. "That is fairly standard as one never knows when they would need a particular color. There is also an empty inkwell for mixing colors before application, though that is advanced magic that we aren't going to cover now. As the ink is actually a liquid, these would fall under that category even though they will dry upon the paper. Were I to burn the parchment or boil the inks, they would then become air. Interestingly, depending on what type of spell I am using and what stage it is in, the color of the smoke could very well be different from the color of the material that was burning."

 

He dipped a quill into a well of green ink and began drawing in a steady hand. When he was finished, there was a heptagram on the parchment. He reached over and picked up the twig and set it down in the black space in the middle of the shape. "A star is a symbol of power. It isn't completely needed due to the inherent strengths I possess as a wizard, but a conjuror would need such a thing in most cases, especially if we were rejuvenating something larger or still alive. In truth, I wouldn't normally need any of the drawing to perform this spell, but I am doing so in order to demonstrate the process. Don't ask me why it is a heptagram, the complexities of how many points in each star would take weeks to fully explain. Just know that it is the correct shape for this exact spell on this particular subject. The color is green because we are dealing with nature. In nature, all things are born, live, grow old, and die. If we wish to alter that flow to bring life back into this twig, then we must dabble in natural magic."

 

While being careful not to smear the star, he began to write several symbols in the same green ink. "These are the words of the magical tongue which wizards call Falreas. Words always hold power, no matter what language they are in. They can change the hearts of man by stirring up anger or bringing out love. They can also, with a touch of magic, bring forth spells and change the very world we live in."

 

After carefully wiping his quill of the green ink that remained, Lorenez then dipped it into the well with blue ink. "Since we are going to be, in effect, creating new life out of this husk, there must be an element of creation within it." A few seconds later, a blue heptagon surrounded the star and the writing. Each point of the green star pointed straight to the middle of one of the sides of the heptagon.

 

"Now," he said once the ink had dried. "We have completed two of the four ways that magic can be performed. Now, we will go onto the gestures and words. I must do them at the same time in this case, and they won't be long as this is a simple spell."

 

Raella watched and listened with enthusiasm for the first time today as he readied himself. He moved his hands in a complex swirling pattern almost too fast for her eye to follow. Gentle, flowing words came softly from his mouth. "Aleuthuath, forguthia bregenethalia ares horaseth."

 

There was a quiet popping sound, then she looked down at the parchment to see the twig undergoing a transformation. The grey, brittle stem was becoming brown and supple once more. The leaves, which had once been brown and curled, were flattening themselves and returning to a vibrant green that was full of life. In seconds, the spell was over and the twig looked as though it had been plucked from the tree it grew upon just minutes ago.

 

"See there," said Lorenez. "There were all of the steps involved here, though you couldn't see or feel them all. While I was drawing, I was creating the foundations of the spell by summoning the elements of magic within me. I combined the forming and attunement phases by using colored ink that was imbued with my magic. I could have done the same spell with black ink or even by just drawing in a sandbox with my finger, but it wouldn't have been as easy or as quick. The positioning of the twig in the center of the inner area of the star provided the direction for the spell. With my gestures and words, I released the spell which was fulfilled once the twig was full of life once more.

 

"As you can see, some of the steps can be done simultaneously as they overlap one another. In this case, once I spoke the words that released it, the spell was set. I could not have interrupted it without a counter spell, which in this case, couldn't have been created before its fulfillment.

 

"If I had made a mistake, one of a few things could have happened. If it was a minor enough mistake such as a misplaced line or dot in a symbol or a mispronounced word, the spell may still function. Magic has a way of correcting itself as long as the deviations are not too severe. If it was a severe mistake, then the magical energies could have broken down and nothing would have happened. The danger comes if I did the spell wrong, but my mistake turned it into a completely different spell. For instance, instead of rejuvenating the twig, it could have done the opposite and sapped all of its life out in an instant. That isn't a big deal with an already dead twig, but if it were a sick man, it would have killed him."

 

He tapped his desk with a knuckle to ensure he had Raella's attention focused on him and not the beech twig. "Pay attention to this next part, princess. Should a mistake be made in the preparation of a spell, it can be cancelled. A spell can almost always be cancelled at any time before it is released. Once it is released, however, it will continue about its purpose until it is fulfilled. Only the fulfillment or a counter spell will end it. Remember that, princess, because no matter what anyone says to you, that will forever hold true. Nobody can violate that single law. Nobody."

 

Raella nodded at that and made careful note of it.

 

Satisfied that his student had grasped the importance of that last bit, Lorenez continued. "I think we can do a little exploring into the realm of enchanted material." He stood up and crossed over to the black chest in the corner of the room. After unlocking it with a key that was on a chain around his neck, he pulled out a wooden block. He closed and locked the chest before returning to his chair.

 

"I found this recently while out performing my duties. It is clearly enchanted with some sort of magical power, but I do not know its purpose. I might as well as instruct you on various enchantments and verification spells while I divine its purpose, that way this afternoon wouldn't be a complete waste."

 

Raella rolled her eyes and was grateful that the wizard's focus was on the block rather than her. She wanted to be here no more than he seemed to want to teach her. As interesting as magic could be, she would rather see its pretty displays and amazing feats than dissect its elements.

 

Still engrossed in the block, Lorenez droned on, "You might not be able to sense it yet since you haven't been properly trained, but this plain looking block is actually an enchanted object. Someone put a great deal of time and effort into it." His voice dropped to a mumble quiet enough that Raella leaned forward a bit in order to hear, "I wonder why someone would abandon such a creation."

 

"Maybe their spell didn't work right?" postulated Raella.

 

He glanced over at her with an arched brow. "Possible, but I doubt it. This seems very intentional, too purposeful to be an error."

 

"Could I hold it?" she asked cautiously. If she was going to be bored, she might as well as be able to get some hands on experience.

 

Lorenez hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose it would be a good way to test your sensitivity to magical auroras," he said as he handed her the block.

 

As soon as her hand touched it, Raella felt a sudden sensation of pure dread and terror, so much so that she allowed it to slip from her fingers and fall onto the floor. The block tumbled into the middle of the room and stopped there. "Clumsy gir—" the wizard began to say when he stopped suddenly.

 

The surface of the wooden block had become a swirling mass of angry reds and yellows. There was a faint red glow around it which grew brighter with each passing second. Raella was too terrified to move, but Lorenez was not.

 

"By Mighty Tantis and Sweet Mewela!" he cried out in alarm. He pawed his desk franticly for a split second before grabbing the orange paper he had shown her earlier. "Eancarth fortureas!" he shouted as the entire room exploded into brilliant white fire.

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Ooh, nice cliffie. Going back and reading your additions, plus this chapter, I don't think I have many questions left. But it's interesting...it doesn't look like you should be able to cast spells in, say, combat situations, unless you had a bunch of prepared spells on pieces of paper and a pack of components. Is that correct? So, Vekla for instance casting her fireballs does so by pulling out a piece of paper and casting the spell off of it?

 

"Pay attention to this next part, princess. Should a mistake be made in the preparation of a spell, it can be cancelled. A spell can almost always be cancelled at any time before it is released. Once it is released, however, it will continue about its purpose until it is fulfilled. Only the fulfillment or a counter spell will end it. Remember that, princess, because no matter what anyone says to you, that will forever hold true. Nobody can violate that single law. Nobody."

 

Hmm...I think Syler can! That sounds like what he did with the spell on Bronwyn. Of course, he's always an exception.

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In truth, I wouldn't normally need any of the drawing to perform this spell, but I am doing so in order to demonstrate the process.

Take careful note of that sentence for it would answer your question. Those on the higher level of magical ability (mages, wizards, witches, sorceresses, and sorcerers) do not necessarily need paper or drawings or aid to perform basic spells. Things like fireballs, lightning bolts, and even the rejuvenation of that twig are easy and don't require the extra physical additives. To conjure those spells, the wielder just needs to picture the drawings in their mind, something that becomes second nature after as much practice as they receive. I didn't specifically say that, but perhaps I will later. Also note, while a simple fireball needs only a thought and a gesture, if a magic wielder wanted to, say, burn select targets among a crowd, they would need a very complex, written spell. The more complex the spell, the more likely they need it to be actually written down. Note what he said regarding the drawing, they are mostly there to enhance and strengthen the spell. Weaker magic wielders such as conjurers and even prophets usually need some help to focus their energies.

 

An example of this being used in practice would be when Uthas used the curse on Bronwyn. If you recall (or look it up), he had acolytes preparing the top of the Temple for the spell. They were writing and performing the correct ritual gestures to build up and focus the spell. The marks burned into Bronwyn's stomach served as additional focusing, mainly as the link so he could reach out that far. For a spell of that magnitude and complexity, Uthas couldn't have just waved his hand. He needed more than that.

 

Hmm...I think Syler can! That sounds like what he did with the spell on Bronwyn. Of course, he's always an exception.

Did he? Did he violate that law, or was he just unknowingly performing a counter spell? I am not telling either way.

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The first part of this chapter is going to be dialogue heavy, but it is spread out among many people so it shouldn't be as boring as the previous one. A bunch of figuring and discussion here as people try to figure out what happened at the end of the last chapter. I might go back and add some more to this later to give it more meat, but I will leave it for now. The next half will have a lot more action in it, and a lot and lot of blood. The War of Prophets and Wizards has just begun.

 

 

 

___________________

 

 

 

Chapter 32

 

Wrath and ruin upon the House of Angvard! Woe unto the throne of those who spilled the blood of the Sacred Prophet! For that most heinous of sins, blood of the line of Emperors and Empresses shall flow freely upon the ground. When the One is revealed, judgment shall be swift to follow.

 

— Prophecy of the Damned Throne, the Book of the Damned

 

Royal Palace

Terula City

Kingdom of Terula

 

Rushed footsteps resounded throughout the stone halls of the Royal Palace as the Master of Letters for the Royal Court left behind dignity and ran. Whenever there was bad news, the king preferred to hear it sooner than later. More than one Master of Letters had found himself out of a title and sometimes his head for delaying when he thought the news would upset the king. Master Pezgibbons could have sent one of his underlings to deliver the message, but that would not have been honorable. When news was bad, it was his duty to deliver it and spare those under him the king's wrath. That duty was one of the balances to the benefits of his title and the estate that came with it.

 

The king and his empress were dining with their inner court in the Banquet Hall. As it was across the palace from his own office and situated deep within the massive structure, Pezgibbons would be well out of breath by the time he arrived. He didn't care, because in times like this, he doubted the king would be concerned if he was huffing for breath while delivering his message. The guards at the doors eyed him suspiciously, but since he was wearing his badge over his right shoulder, they knew he was performing his official duty and did not interfere.

 

He entered the room tremulously and walked over to where King Rael sat at the head of the table with his wife. Once at the side of the king, he stood there silently until addressed with a glance. There was annoyance on the king's face at the interruption, but he knew that his Master of Letters would not have come in such haste were it not important.

 

As was their custom, Terulans and Angvardi were mingled together at the table in alternating seats. In all things, the two rulers desired to see their nations merged and allied rather than divided and in strife. It was a noble cause, Pezgibbons thought, but one that he feared would not last much longer, not with news like this. The king and his empress were at the head of the table, seating side by side. Closest to them were family members of descending importance. After family came honored guests, then various lords and generals.

 

"My king, I have news that concerns your daughter," he said between breaths.

 

Rael's annoyance melted from his face and was replaced by a concern that caused his lips to purse and wrinkles to show on his forehead. "What news?" he demanded. The table began to quiet down as all eyes were upon him.

 

"There has been an incident at the College. The Princess was injured. We fear… we fear that it was not an accident. She was injured in an explosion and is being treated in the College by the best of healers."

The king's cheeks reddened as he stood up so rapidly his chair fell backward. His feet were already in motion when he cried out for his guards and Chief Battlemage Teaque and Captain Pondj. His wife was close on his heals as she called for Filgar, Captain of the Imperial Guard to follow with his men. Most of those at the table debated whether to follow, not sure if they would incur the wrath of furious parents for coming or for remaining. In the end, some remained while others followed.

 

Both king and empress were shouting commands to guards as they marched purposefully through the halls to the outer gates of the palace. Some of the men were left confused in their wake, but none dared disobey an order no matter how confusing it was. There was a sort of resounding hum throughout the halls as they passed, almost as though a giant bell had been tolled and was echoing. King Rael's face was all but shining in furious energy just waiting to be unleashed. Empress Celienna's fists crackled with sparks that caused the hair of those they passed to rise straight up. Never before had any within the palace seen either in such an uproar and it was truly a terrifying thing to see.

 

The march continued outside the palace and down the street to the Wizard's College. Minor nobles and rich merchants struggled to get out of the way of the entourage, but the furious parents did not stop. Those who failed to get out of their way were all but trampled underfoot by the small legion of guards and attendants that were following.

 

When they arrived, nobody at the great red gate of the College dared bar their way or demand they wait for a proper escort. That didn't seem to matter because Grandmaster Wizard Setpinius himself suddenly appeared in the doorway to the College itself and waited to escort them to the princess.

 

"What happened, Setpinius?" demanded Rael in a voice that held such power and anger that most men would have fallen to their knees praying for mercy.

 

The great wizard merely bowed his head, though his eyes showed anxiety that his face concealed. "The princess was in her studies when there was an explosion in the room," he explained as they continued to walk.

 

"How did this happen? You were ordered not to do anything dangerous," Celienna said with a coldness that chilled Pezgibbon's blood. Unlike her husband, she grew cold when angry. He was not sure which was worse to face: the heated wrath of the king or the cold vengeance of the empress.

 

"They were not, my Empress," replied Setpinius. "We have queried Wizard Lorenez and he did nothing dangerous."

 

"Then why is my daughter in the healer's chambers?" shouted Rael.

 

"That is what confused us at first, but we believe we have an answer," the wizard responded.

 

"Well, tell us what it is!" exclaimed the king as the air positively hummed with his anger.

 

The Grandmaster Wizard seemed at loss of words for a few moments, then he swallowed hard and said, "It was an assassination attempt. Whether Wizard Lorenez was the target or the princess, we do not know."

 

Pezgibbon didn't believe the news was much of a surprise to either parent, but at his words, they redoubled their pace until they were almost running down the halls sending frightened acolytes and wizards fleeing for hallways or doorways. When they rounded the last corner into the healing wards, many of their entourage slowed down. They didn't want to crowd the room, but more importantly, they didn't want to be on hand if things were worse than expected.

 

The ward was a series of beds cordoned off by curtains. On the walls beside each bed and at the front were shelves with numerous potions, leech jars, and medical utensils. Several healers dressed in white robes immediately stopped what they were doing, stepped back, and bowed.

 

Princess Raella was lying on a bed of pure white linens. Her face, neck, and hands looked like she had spent too much time out in the sun, but they had not cracked. Her eyes were red and a little glossy, but to tell the truth, Pezgibbon was surprised at how good of a condition she was in. When the messenger had come from the College, he had assumed that things were much worse.

 

Despite his own relief, the girl's parents did not seem to share it. As her father guided his hands above her to sense her injuries for himself, Celienna asked with concern saturating her voice, "Are you okay, my dear?"

 

"Yes," she replied cautiously. "Thanks to Wizard Lorenez, I am okay."

 

Even with his eyes closed in concentration, Rael frowned. "What happened?"

 

"The wizard had just finished the first part of his lecture and was demonstrating basic magics to me," Raella explained. "He had already done a few spells and was going to show me things about enchanting materials. There was a funny little wooden block that he had found and he wanted to discover its origins and purpose."

 

"What was it?" asked Celienna. Her head turned toward Setpinius, "Where is this spelled block? I want to investigate it myself."

 

"With all pardons, Empress, it was consumed in the explosion. I have four of my best wizards attempting to backtrack its magic and discover what the exact spell was."

 

The empress' left eye twitched. "Then where is the wizard who was tutoring her?"

 

"I am here, Empress," a new voice said from behind one of the curtains that divided out the various beds.

 

At a simple nod from the empress, the curtain was drawn back to show a young wizard lying in a bed similar to Raella's. Unlike her, though, his injuries seemed to be far more extensive. The burns on his face, neck, hands, and forearms had blistered and cracked. His face was pale from shock and, from the way he winced as he sat up, he was clearly in a great deal of pain.

 

"Explain what happened, wizard," the empress demanded.

 

"As the princess said, I had finished my initial lecture and was beginning demonstrations. I was examining the wooden block when she asked to hold it. I believed that being able to touch it would allow her to sense its magical aura. It is difficult for clairvoyants to sense such things except with close proximity."

 

"Yes, we know that well. Get on with the story," Rael snapped. He had finished checking his daughter and was now glaring at the wizard.

 

"Apologies, my king," Lorenez said with a small bow of his head. "As soon as she touched it, the block began to glow and pulse with energy. I can recognize a Pandersern's Charm when I see one and immediately responded. There was no time to form my own ward or a counter spell, but I had been showing the princess a formulated protection ward and it was on my desk. I was fortunate enough to activate it just as the charm activated and let loose its energy. As you can see, some of its energy managed to get through before the ward took effect, but it was sufficient to hold against the charm."

 

"If you recognized the Pandersern's Charm, why did you expose my daughter to it?" Rael inquired in a low voice. "That charm is a particularly volatile and dangerous one and should never be brought around novices such as Raella."

 

Lorenez nodded, "I agree, my king. Had I known it was such a charm when I first discovered it, I would never have kept it in my own office. It was covered in a very powerful and skilled obscuring spell that concealed its identity until the charm activated. I had spent a few minutes investigating it when I first found it, but had not spent the time needed to penetrate the spell and learn its true identity."

 

"Where did you find this particular device?" Setpinius asked.

 

"I found it out on patrol hunting necromancers three weeks ago. I have been busy dealing with… other matters and was unable to do any further investigating until today."

 

When she heard that, Raella couldn't help herself. "Necromancers?" She had heard of them, but all of her inquires into the subject were met with concerned looks and hushed voices telling her that it was not for young women to know what they did.

 

"Those who attempt to bring back the dead to do their bidding," replied Lorenez, though he refrained from going into detail when he saw the expression on the empress' face.

 

"Tell me more of this patrol?" demanded Celienna with a frown still curving her lips downward. "What happened?"

 

"We had received a tip that a cadre of necromancers was using an abandoned homestead outside of the city as a base of operations. Apparently there was something about the family who once lived there being murdered and that the Veil was weak. It made sense and came from a plausible source, so I was dispatched with a squad of guards to investigate."

 

"And?" Rael said impatiently.

 

"We found nothing, though I could tell that someone had been practicing magic there recently. By the time we went in, there was nobody to be found and no signs of habitation over the last few days. I sensed the wooden block and, sensing no danger from it, brought it back to be studied further just in case."

 

Celienna subconsciously licked her upper lip as she considered this. "Did you find any signs of necromancy in the house?"

 

"No, Empress. I did not find anything that linked to necromancy. We get many tips and clues from concerned or even paranoid citizens. Most turn out to be nothing, but we must check out each and every one just in case. I do not need to tell you the dangers necromancers pose to our society."

 

"No, of course not," Celienna conceded. She paused while Lorenez began coughing. One of the attendants gave him a bowl of light red water that seemed to help, but it took a little time before he could talk again. "Was there anything suspicious about this investigation that caught your attention? Anything at all?

 

"No, Empress," admitted Lorenez. "I have been going through everything I can think of since I woke up here, but I can think of nothing out of the ordinary."

 

"About the charm itself," Setpinius asked, "what set it off? You had it within your possession for three weeks and it did nothing, why would it go off at this exact time?"

 

Lorenez stretched his neck despite the pain so he could look at Raella, then looked back at the others. "Grandmaster, I cannot help but note that it activated as soon as the princess touched it."

 

There was silence in the room for a long moment. Rael was the first to speak, "So you are saying that you believe that this was a deliberate attempt to kill our daughter?"

 

With his face turning slightly green beneath the red of the burns, Lorenez nodded. "I cannot think of any other way it was activated. It could have been set to her specific aurora, or perhaps it was something more broad such as the hands of a clairvoyant or even as simple as a female. A skilled practitioner could accomplish either of the latter two, but the first would require proximity and familiarity to the princess herself in order to make the match."

 

"So it was someone who knew her," stated Celienna flatly.

 

"Not necessarily, Empress," said Setpinius. "As Wizard Lorenez said, it could have been set to a clairvoyant or even just a female touch. There are very, very few women within the College and it could have been a reasonable guess that no woman would touch it except the princess."

 

"Where did this tip come from?" asked Amberis. It had been the first time he had spoken since news of Raella's injury.

 

Rael looked at his cousin at first with confusion. A second passed and realization dawned on his face and his eyes grew wide. "Yes, who was it that tipped you off to this house?"

 

Lorenez frowned, "I do not know, my king. Such tips are not dealt with directly by someone in my position. You would need to ask the clerks for that."

 

A glance by the king was sufficient for three guards who were waiting in the doorway to bow and scramble to find the clerks. Amberis was not finished, "Whoever set this up knew that Lorenez would find the charm and keep it. How did they know that Raella would be under Lorenez's tutelage and thus have exposure to it?"

 

With cheeks now ablaze with shame, Setpinius answered him meekly, "I believe that may be my fault, Lord Amberis."

 

Celienna's cold eyes turned upon the older wizard. "Explain."

 

The grandmaster took a deep breath and began to answer. "When I received word that your graces desired for your daughter to be tutored by a wizard, I deliberated on who to assign her to. There were many promising candidates within the College, but Lord Oblin recommended Wizard Lorenez."

 

"Lord Oblin?" Celienna asked with upraised eyebrows.

 

"He is a lord from Hopenstad," Rael explained. "Does he normally get involved in the affairs of wizards?"

 

Setpinius shook his head, "No, my king, I rarely have contact with him. I happened upon him on the streets where he inquired as to the state of things within the College. There has been some, well, some unrest of late and he was concerned that it would inhibit our duties in regards to combating necromancy."

 

"I did not know that Oblin concerned himself much with the affairs of magic," said Rael.

 

"It is the first time I have spoken to him," Setpinius said. The color was beginning to fade from his cheeks, but he was clearly still uneasy.

 

Battlemage Teaqe stepped forward and waited for permission to speak. There were wrinkles on his forehead and his eyes were dark with building distaste for where the conversation was turning. When Real nodded in his direction, he spoke, "If I am not mistaken, my king, over the last few months, I have seen Lord Oblin speaking with several prophets including Master Prophet Xalent. I am not sure what it means, but I do not like where my thoughts are taking me."

 

"Interesting," Pezgibbons mumbled aloud. He hesitated when all eyes suddenly turned upon him.

 

"Do you have something to add, Master Pezgibbons?" asked Rael.

 

"N-not much," he stammered. "Just that Lord Oblin recently made several inquiries to my office regarding news on which wizards dealt with necromancy. It stuck in my mind because he asked not just for names, but schedules and even who had the most success in their endeavors."

 

"And did you give him this information?" asked Celienna.

 

"Yes, Empress, I did," Pezgibbons said as he looked down at the grown. "Lords of his stature have access to such material."

 

Amberis asked, "How long ago was this?"

 

Pezgibbons thought for a few moments to make sure he did not make a mistake. "It was a month and four days ago, in the evening just before I shut down the offices."

 

"I am not liking where this is going," Amberis said darkly. Anger was beginning to encroach upon his stern features.

 

"It certainly does look as though Lord Oblin was part of this plot to kill our daughter," agreed Celienna. "For a member of the nobility to conspire against the rightful heir to not just Terula, but also Angvard is the most grave of offenses."

 

"Most definitely," said the king through teeth clenched in anger.

 

A man dressed in common robes and flanked by three royal guards entered the room. "My king," one of the guards said, "this is the clerk you wished to speak to."

 

Rael turned his attention down upon the clerk. He didn't seem to be much more than a boy, probably no older than sixteen summers old. He had in his hands several scrolls and a giant ledger. Under the glare of a king who was just barely controlling his anger, Pezgibbons thought that he was doing quite well not to fall to his feet in abject terror.

 

"Tell us," commanded Rael, "where did the tip that led Wizard Lorenez to the supposed necromancer house three weeks ago come from?"

 

The clerk nodded with only the slightest of trembles. He tucked the scrolls under his left arm while supporting the ledger in his right hand. Displaying uncanny skills, the lad was able to deftly flip through the heavy book with his left hand while not dropping any of the scrolls. After several long, tense seconds, he stopped flipping through pages and began reading more carefully. At last, he said in the high pitched voice of boyhood, "My lord king and beloved empress, it appears that the report regarding the house of necromancers came from Prophet Valladius. He personally came and said that he had received word from a seer who had seen a vision regarding the murders that took place in that house. According to his report, the seer felt that the house was a prime place for necromancy and that some of the added terror in her vision could be related to future habitation by their kind."

 

"What was the name of this seer?" Celienna demanded with cold fury.

 

The boy blanched, but did not back away. "Prophet Valladius did not offer any names. He did suggest that the seer was not confident enough in her interpretation to come directly to me, so he took it upon himself to report it."

 

"Lord Oblin has had ties with the prophets," said the king as he began counting with his fingers. With the drop of a second finger, he said, "He asks about the schedules of wizards assigned to deal with

necromancy. Prophet Valladius gives a vague report allegedly from a seer who had somehow confided in him of necromancy taking place at an abandoned house. Oblin, knowing the schedule of who was on patrol duty, suggests to the Grandmaster Wizard that Wizard Lorenez would be a good candidate to teach Raella. Oblin also has ties with Master Prophet Xalent." All five fingers on his right hand were now splayed open after he laid out the five pieces of information.

 

"Do not forget the growing conflict between wizards and the prophets," Teaque pointed out. "There has been bad blood between them for some time, it has recently grown to near all out war."

 

Celienna nodded in agreement. "Yes, having Raella die while in the care of the wizards could potentially have turned a great deal of anger toward them, and not just from my husband and I. The common people love their princess and would turn on any who allowed her death to happen."

 

King Rael had made up his mind and slammed his left fist into his open right hand. "Gather the Royal Guard!" he commanded. "Go to the Tower of Estar and bring forth every single prophet for questioning. I want to see them all in chains standing before me before an hour has passed, is that clear?"

 

Captain Pondj clasped his fist over his heart and bowed. "It shall be done, my king."

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Did they put him into the situation, or did Fate put them all into it?
Haha, okay, good point.
All I will say right now is that I am very happy with how you perceived him and noticed him, but perhaps you saw TOO much. You might figure it out before I want you to, so I might have to make him even more vague in the second draft.
Nah, probably not necessary. I'm able to guess major plot points of books, movies, and TV shows probably 80% of the time, and often things other people don't notice (trying to be factual and not toot my own horn, so apologies if that sounds conceited). It didn't come across as overt, and just because I'm guessing too close means you need to make it more vague, methinks. Right now it's at a point where very, very few readers might guess it, but for the most part it's just providing the character needed to make Growald real and not make his future revelations seem to character. I'd keep it.
There are a lot of places where I may actually double the size of the chapter just with descriptions of things and places.
Overall you actually have a lot more history and descriptions than I normally see already, except perhaps when comparing to Tolkien. I think you could definitely add more, especially descriptions pertaining to immediate environment or instances, but (my opinion) I would actually be careful about adding too much more description and history that it begins to bog down the story. For instance, I might love Tolkien's work immensely, but there's a reason The Hobbit is my favorite over LotR - it always keeps moving, whereas LotR has a couple points (such as Tom Bombadil) that add nothing to the plot and are okay for the first 3 pages, but start to get old for the next 15... I think you can definitely add some more in without reaching that point, but it would also be easy to cross the line. You've developed a rich cultural background here and it amazes me - I'm not sure I'm capable of that. The thought you've gone into is necessary to execute the depth and intricacy you've shown in the story this far, but all of that thought on actual paper for the story might be too much for the reader to take in. I think you're already aware of this from what you mentioned about not putting all your thought regarding prophecy down on paper, but just a reminder.
Either way, I am content with how it was described and went over that entire part many times for reasons I will keep to myself for now.
In other words, sounds like there is very specific reasons it was worded the way it was.... I'll be watching to find out why.

 

Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning! Or, in other words, onward!

 

Chapter 15

Wow, things are really starting to happen quickly now! Not just the big confrontation, but arriving at their first major stop and the introduction of a whole new race. And I have to say, the Krue are pretty dang amazing! Of course, no matter what I think I don't think I can beat Ami's words, so I'll just second her!

LOL, well, when he survives a fireball, that should be a sign to Syler that he's more than he thought.

 

Nice descriptions of the Krue. I like them. They seem pretty much awesome in every way. And they ride on freaking unicorns, which only adds to their awesomeness.

 

The proper build-up between dialogue at Growald and Syler's last fight might have been off, but there was no sign of that here. The argument/discussion was believable and well thought out. As I recall you had some concern that it would make sense why Syler continued forward away from his sister, but I thought you handled it well: his decision made complete sense.

 

Lamastus swore under his breath. "You sure it was the Shalktra who did this and not Governor Uthas?" he asked.
Smart man - seems to have a lot of good guesses! I'm still wondering if he's Uthas' man to keep the Shallktra away, although in that case I wouldn't expect him to implicate Uthas... unless he has second thoughts of his own allegiance.

 

I didn't look back to check, but as I recall the guide is supposed to be among the Krue. Bronwyn's abilities as a seer seems to be pushing Syler on towards his destiny. It's quite curious how Growald knows so much but has determined that he can't even tell Syler almost anything.

 

I definitely felt my heart pick up a bit when they spotted the Shallktra behind them - I could just picture them cresting the hill to attack! I just knew that it would end up being the Krue who saved them.

 

The woman looked at Growald with an expression as dispassionate as death itself. "Lie again and I kill you all."

Oh,wow, I would not want to get on her bad side!

 

Grammatical fixes:

Lamastus said, "He is a thug, a brute just like the Shalktra just with a different uniform."
Remove one "just" for a little more diversity. Interesting line.... I don't quite agree, since as mentioned he didn't approve of the torture going on, yet at the same time I think the idea of him being a brute in a different uniform is true to a certain, if not identical, extent.
"Hey, I have worked with the guy plenty o' times and he hadn't put a knife in ma back," said Havert
"Hadn't" should be "hasn't."
"Are you insane!" exclaimed Syler. "That is Krue territory. It is suicide to go there, they would kill us all."
There should be a question mark after "insane," not an exclamation mark. In addition, since the sentence ends there the use of "exclaimed' does not work (it's a uncapitalized and a fragment).
The intimidating green timbers of the Subeleth Woods was just visible on the horizon through the early afternoon sun when one of Growald's men sounded the alarm. Every neck turned to look behind them at the dozens of dark shapes cresting the hill behind them moving with tremendous speed.
The timbers were visible, whereas if Subeleth Woods was the subject then "was" would be correct. Also, you have "behind them" twice in the second sentence and need a comma before "moving with tremendous speed."
Syler winced as he followed suit because he knew how much the extra bouncing would hurt Bronwyn. She was, fortunately, in her semi-conscious state but it would still hurt.
Awkward wording in the second sentence, IMO. I think it would read cleaner and less repetitive to simply pull an "even in her semi-conscious state" into the first sentence and delete the second.
If they made it to the forest, they might be able to split them up and deal with them in smaller groups, but here in the open rolling hills, they had no chance.
Remove the first and last commas in order for the whole sentence to flow better.
Syler could hardly believe his eyes, because they new arrivals seemed to close the mile gap between them in seconds.
"They" should be "the."
What he saw was fire and a few of their pursuit tumbling in the ground covered in flames.
The pursuit should tumble to the ground, not into it.
They didn't wear helmets which allowed their dark and mostly black hair to show.
Place a comma after "helmets," also the distinction between dark and black seemed so trivial that the mention was strange, even though I know you're trying to indicate mostly black hair rather than a whole army of brunettes. Just my opinion, but I think there's probably another way which you could word it? Also, the very next sentence seems confusing - he can tell enough of what color their hair is from a distance even despite hoods and war paint because there are no helmets, and he can tell that the women have their hair in braids even though he can't see how long their hair is?

 

Chapter 16

Things are really starting to happen - it's fantastic! Another solid chapter in action and description. I can't wait to continue seeing more of the Krue, they seem like such interesting and decisive people. In particular - I'm so excited to start getting answers about Syler, and having him survive a fireball really opens the flood of information with a bang! Or rather... with a flame.

 

I have to admit, I'm a little bit confused about the Guide/Guardian bit. The Guide was supposed to come from the Krue, and specifically be a woman from Subeleth, correct? (My guess is Velka!) There wasn't a mention of a guardian in the prophecy that I can recall, at least the parts we saw, but it makes sense for Growald's role. My point of confusion is that Velka calls Growald the guardian a few times, but then also calls him the guide... isn't that a separate role? ("You have an interesting way of interpreting your duties, Guide.") I think it's great how this prophecy stuff plays out. Growald still gets Syler safely to the Krue, but that has nothing to say what his end plans are or whether he truly seeks Syler's good in this... it only means that the prophecy was fulfilled at and this point he was a help rather than a hindrance. It'll be interesting to see how it all turns out... My one other minor critique in this part is Velka's response when she approaches Syler the first time. Can you describe this a bit differently? Her "cautious" approach seems a bit out of place with his utter confusion and between her leaping from her hasuan and walking straight up to him.

 

"Magic has no power over you because you are now its master. That is why my fire did not touch on you and why your touch banishes the curse placed upon this Kuti."
So much is beginning to make sense!

 

I liked the peak back at what was happening in the Angvardi Imperial Palace. We're learning a lot more about how the Empress operates, and, as Ami said, I think that Raella is going to have a few rude awakenings!

 

Never look a Krue in the eye.

 

”” Sei antidote

Did you mean anecdote? Even then, I'm not sure that this is supposed to be a humorous saying or not?
The same woman was staring at him with a haunting smile on now on her lips.
Remove first "on."
"We have way of knowing if our own guards would have been able to stop this," said Ferr.
Need to add a "no" near the beginning of the sentence.
"Oh, but I have been disrespected. You have chosen to insult and blaspheme my husband, that 'bastard king' to which you are displeased with."
Not positive on the correct grammar for this, honestly, but I think you need to remove the "to" after "bastard king"?
"I, I am sorry. It is just, just that so many of my family and friends suffered terribly during the wars, it is hard to look past that sometimes."
Just my opinion, but I tend to think that hyphens work better than the repeated words to indicate this kind of stuttering.
As he stepped forward and knelt before her. In a soothing voice, she said, "Of course I will forgive you, Valinc. We all make mistakes and say things we don't mean."
Need to rework your sentences here so that you don't have a fragment.
Celienna's spoke in a quiet voice that held no hint of the previous brutality it once held. "You are forgiven, Valinc, but pray that I do not see your face in my presence again." When she had finished, she released him causing him to stumble onto the ground at her feet.
Celienna (non-possessive form), and I would recommend moving the comma in the last sentence from after "finished" to after "released him" instead.
Wood was the primary source of building materials and everything was wood.
How is wood the primary source (indicating other sources are also there) and yet everything? Are you switching from building materials to an observation of other objects?

"It's always these little worlds that get you in trouble. Like Tatooine. I'm still living that one down." - Han Solo

Your barnacle has carnivorous salamanders the size of whales.

"Let us hold unswervingly to the faith we profess, for he who promised is faithful." -Heb. 10:23

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