Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) (13 page)

In
Byrn's cell cluster there were five other magicians: Xander Necros, the
grandmaster of necromancy; Ryonus Southsun, the bastard of a lord in the South
Lands and a master of manipulation; Mantellus Firekin and Fredrik Thunderkin,
both powerful elementalists of common birth; and Tell Necran, a necromancer of
modest ability.

“
Not
quite what you expected?” Xander ventured.

“
To
be honest, I had no idea what to expect,” Byrn told him. “I never thought about
it much. Even as a boy I tended to push thoughts of this place out of my mind.
The idea that at any moment a gang of magicians could break out of this prison
and begin killing my family and friends in Colum kept me up at night and gave
me nightmares until I was eleven or twelve.”

Mantellus
laughed, “That does sound like fun, Fresh Meat, but if I ever escaped I would
get as far away from this place as possible... then start killing people.”

“
Ignore
him,” said Tell, the necromancer. “He is just playing with you.”

“
Maybe
I am... then again maybe not,” Mantellus replied noncommittally, “but my point
is that Colum is probably the safest place from a magician attack merely due to
its proximity to Baj.”

Byrn
thought the fire elementalist was at least a little mad, but he wondered if he
was mad before he came to this place or if it occurred gradually as the years
crept by.

“
Quiet,
the guards are coming,” warned Ryonus. He would not speak often, but when he
did the others tended to listen believing that if he chose to talk whatever he
had to say must be important.

A
faint scuffling of boots was nearly inaudible at first as if they were coming
from very far away, but the sound quickly grew louder. As a master of
manipulation Ryonus had enhanced senses that served him well in evading the
Kenzai for years until one day they got lucky and stumbled upon him asleep in a
makeshift camp. The boots stopped outside of Byrn's cell.

“
You
have a visitor, son,” said the guard. Byrn could hear a key being inserted into
his cell door and the release of a lock. The door swung open with a screech
revealing a Kenzai guard dressed in plated armor and a helm. Unlike the Kenzai
that spent their time searching for magicians or guarding the domains that wore
light armor and cloaks, the guards in Baj wore heavy armor allowing them
greater protection in the narrow halls that limited mobility.

“
He
is not your son,” hissed Fredrik his words laced in venom. “Byrn is one of us.”

“
That
is enough, Fredrik,” ordered Xander.

“
Mind
your business,” the guard told Fredrik as he escorted Byrn from the cluster. He
banged the butt of his nightstick against the magician's door as he passed.

The
guard led Byrn through several corridors bending to the left and the right, but
none of them ever turned at right angles leaving the newest prisoner of Baj
feeling disoriented. He thought that the prison was also a maze, but as they
passed several clusters he began to think that the corridors connecting the
various cell clusters was in a pattern like a spider's web. If someone did not
know which way they were going they could easily become lost in here.

Eventually,
they reached an iron door leading to a receiving area. There were six guards in
this room acting as sentries and standing in the middle of them was a magician
wearing a green robe with a faint tree and root design.

“
Greetings,
Byrn,” said Sane who seemed genuinely happy to see his apprentice.

“
Master
Sane,” said Byrn with a short nod, unsure of what to make of the sorcerer’s
sudden arrival.

The
sorcerer motioned to a door at his right and the guards opened it allowing the
two magicians to enter an open grass area within the prison's walls. The sun
felt warm on Byrn's face. He wondered how long he had been in that cell. It
felt like he was in there for weeks, but in reality he thought it might have
only been a few days since he woke up in that cell.

“
The
warden told me I would be here for the next eight years,” Byrn told him, “Have
you come to get me out of here?”

“
No,
your sentence was a decree from the king, so there is no changing it unless he
personally decides to reduce or pardon your sentence. However, it could have
been worse. He could have sentenced you to death or life imprisonment for what
happened,” said Sane. “In addition to your not being dead, I was able to get
another boon from his highness. He has allowed me to train you in the ways of
magic so that once you are released you will be a highly skilled magician and
ready to serve the kingdom.”

The
idea that Byrn might serve the kingdom after being imprisoned here for so long
was nearly laughable, but he did not comment. Instead he chose to ask something
that had weighed heavily on his mind. “Why did you fail to tell me where the
magic came from when we first began talking of magic? If I had known the source
before I killed all of those people they might still be alive.” Byrn added
accusingly, “including my father.”

Sane
looked shocked for a moment, “I didn’t know about your father. I thought that
the ogre killed him,” but he did not respond to the accusation directly.
Instead, he began Byrn’s first lesson. “I guess that is as good a place to
start as any. Magic is powered by an essence located within the blood. We call
it the blood source...”

Sane
explained how the blood source was used to power magic. Most of it Byrn already
knew from his encounter with the goddesses of life and death, but eventually
Sane touched on some new information. “...There are more effective and less
lethal ways of extracting that essence from a magician's blood. A properly enchanted
staff or grimoire can be used as a focusing device to pass the source through
the body and dispel it safely without risk to the magician. Like a lightning
rod attracts a bolt, a focusing device attracts that essence from you allowing
you to wield magic safely and far more effectively.”

He
handed Byrn his staff. It was ornately carved with a strange circular design
coming out of the wood on one end and a blade on the other. It looked much like
a fancy short spear and had a solid heft to it. “What is the blade for?” Byrn
asked curiously.

“
It
is for stabbing,” Sane told him without a hint of a smile.

The
lesson continued for most of the day. Sane explained the fundamentals of
casting a basic spell: concentration, visualization, and energy. “It is important
to cast with a clear mind to ensure you conjure just what you want,” he said at
one point, “and to picture the outcome of what you want.

“
Like
when you fought the ogre at the temple. You did not think of killing it at
first did you? Only of holding it back. But after a while when the beast did
not relent you began to wish it dead and your spells grew more intense.”

“
If
I had wished it dead immediately, I would have used less magic in the long run,
right? If I would have done that, would those people still be alive?” Byrn
asked not truly sure if he wanted the answer.

“
It
is difficult to say, once history is written there is no undoing it. Guessing
at what might have been is nothing more than that- a guess.” Sane told him as a
matter of fact. “Let us get some practice in,” he added somewhat cheerfully in
an obvious attempt to change the subject.

Marian
Lightfoot could not stop crying.

A
few weeks had passed since her husband died and her son was imprisoned. Byrn
sat in a prison cell just two miles away, but he might as well be on the other
side of the world. She grieved for her lost family and friends, but more than
anything else she felt alone. Perhaps that was why she found herself drawn to
her husband's grave every day.

“
Are
you well?” asked a concerned voice.

Marian
looked up to see an elf woman standing above her. She was tall and slender with
a fair complexion dressed in leathers.

“
My
husband is dead. My son is a prisoner in Baj. My friends- the ones that were
not killed by ogres- are treating me like I carry a plague; and I am unsure of
how I am going to survive on my own. I went from my father's home to my
husband's and have never been on my own before. All things considered I am
definitely not well,” Marian told the elf choking back tears.

“
Your
son is in Baj...” the elf woman mused, “Are you Byrn Lightfoot's mother?”

“
Yes,
he is my son. I am Marian Lightfoot. Do you know him?”

“
We
met only briefly, but I am a friend of the sorcerer, Sane. My name is Sarianna
of the Red Tree Clan, but everyone calls me Sari,” she said extending her hand
in friendship.

Marian
shook it limply.

Sari
looked her up and down critically, “You said your name was 'Lightfoot.' Do you
have any experience as a courier? Riding or anything?”

“
My
husband, Tannys, and I used to ride together when we were younger. We would
travel together on some of his assignments when we were younger,” she smiled
thinking of him, “but I got the name through marriage rather than profession.”

The
elf appeared to be considering something for a moment and then made a
proposition to the grief stricken widow, “I have been helping the
knight-captain of the guard investigate the ogre attack and I would not mind
having some company if you would like to join me.”

Marian
remembered the night of the attack and the terror she felt as she fled the
monster that killed Nanny Regald. Reading her expression Sari added, “There is
little to fear. The cave has been cleared of ogres and they would have eaten or
scared off any other aggressive inhabitants when they moved in. I am a ranger
by trade and am looking for clues that might lead to the whereabouts of the
woman responsible for your husband's death as well as hundreds of others.”

“
A
woman? So you know who did this?” Marian asked. She could hear the desperation
in her own voice, but cared little for appearances as the sudden desire for
vengeance welled up inside of her.

“
I
met her, but I do not know her. She was a young woman about the same age as
your son maybe a little older. It is difficult for me to judge most humans'
ages,” seeing the questioning look on Marian's face she added for
clarification, “The girl is a magician of some considerable skill and power.”

The
desire for vengeance took hold of Marian Lightfoot overriding any sense of fear
over her own well-being. The thought of exacting revenge against the person
responsible for taking her family away would have been enough to convince her
to single-handedly storm the underworld if it meant finding justice for her
lost loved ones.

Xander
Necros paced back and forth in his small cell. He had been locked in this
prison for nearly a decade and it started to take its toll long ago. Everyday
he had to fight off the creeping madness of claustrophobia and cabin fever. So
the old grandmaster was thankful for his new cellmate, Byrn, and the
distraction he provided.

Having
someone new to talk to was a real treat not only for him, but for his
companions as well. Xander genuinely liked the fledgling magician, but he also
saw the faintest of opportunities to escape this gray world of rock and grime.
The long hours of inactivity led Xander’s mind down various paths as he tried
to find a means of escape or a way to turn even minor events to his advantage.
It was with this thinking that Xander realized there might be a slim chance at
escape involving his young friend. On occasion Byrn was allowed to leave his
cell under guard. He was under constant supervision from the Kenzai guards and
his master, but the lad had far more freedom than any other prisoner had.

The
necromancer was serving a life sentence. It was a joke really to think that he
could be limited to one lifetime, but he feared madness in the decades to come
if he remained imprisoned in Baj.

Time
was difficult to measure. Days, months, and years all ran together, but it was
especially difficult when it came to smaller increments like a few hours. It
seemed like Byrn was gone for most of the day before the guard returned with
him. The guard wordlessly deposited the youngster in his cell. Xander was
pleased that Byrn did not appear to be interacting with the guards when he left
for his training sessions. He did not want the boy to feel too comfortable
around the Kenzai. Byrn needed to feel like his cellmates were the only ones he
could trust- especially Xander.

When
the guard's footsteps had faded away Ryonus gave the all clear that they could
speak freely again.

“
What
did your master teach you?” Mantellus asked. His tone was more accusatory than
Xander would have liked. Still he was curious to hear the answer and did not
chide the elementalist.

“
Master
Sane was teaching me how to use a staff and cast basic spells,” Byrn told them.
“He was also testing me to see which disciplines I am most aligned with.”

“
That's
admirable of him,” commented Xander, “Training a killer...”