SORCERER (The Elemental Magic Series Book 1) (6 page)

Alec followed the dirt road back toward the commons with only the half-moon to see by. A nearby squirrel chittered at him angrily causing the stone under his shirt to glow a soft blue color. Alec was fairly certain it was the same squirrel he’d seen earlier but couldn’t be positive.

Alec lay down in his bed that night thinking of all the new things he would see and do. He fantasized of being a great warrior in the king’s army, then of being a powerful wizard, respected by nobility and held in awe by his peers. The fantasies turned to dreams as he fell asleep.

Alec woke the next morning refreshed and full of energy. He decided not to tell his Aunt Karen about having magic what with the way she’d spoke of it the other day. The day started like normal, doing his chores and eating breakfast with the only addition of attending the sermon at the temple to thank the gods for their part in the world.

Alec helped set the pot luck style lunch in the town square where he politely listened to all the words of wisdom given to him for his trip to the academy. That's when he realized they were probably leaving tomorrow. Alec saw Mr. Phillips standing off to the side a short while later and decided to ask, just to be sure.

"Mr. Phillips." He said trying to get his attention.

"Yes?"

"Um, are we leaving tomorrow?"

"Is someone a little anxious? Yes, we'll be leaving first thing in the morning, right after breakfast."

"I thought so, there are some people I'd like to say goodbye to." Alec explained.

"I understand. Just make sure you pack tonight. We’ll be leaving right after breakfast."

Alec made his rounds to some of the other kids and several of the adults, getting well wishes along the way. He came to the one person he was hoping and dreading to talk to, Sarah.

"Hi, Sarah, I just wanted to say goodbye for tomorrow."

"You’re leaving before lunch?”

"Yah, right after breakfast," he told her nervously.

"Oh. I didn't think it would be so soon.” She said. "I'm sorry about the other day. I should have gotten the whole story or talked to you first. I'm sorry, OK."

"Yah, friends then?"

"Friends," she agreed.

Alec hung out with Jake and his parents the rest of the afternoon to prevent any other embarrassing situations.

Having been given two silver pieces Alec finally talked Jake in to going over to the tanners shop to purchase a small pack. He definitely didn’t want to go by himself. As they entered the tanners shop the smell of the cured leather permeating the air as they made their way to the front desk. Greg came from the back room and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Alec.

"Father, customers!" He yelled turning and entered the back area again.

"What are you doing back here? Thought you said there were customers!" They heard coming from the back, followed by a response they couldn't make out.

"Hello gentlemen. What can I do for you?" George Tanner asked coming from the back room.

"Mr. Tanner.” Alec nodded in greeting to him. “I'm here to purchase a small pack for tomorrow."

"Ah, you had me worried for a bit there.” He said smiling now. "How long's the trip?"

"I'm going to the academy, so two almost three days."

"That's right, I did hear that. Let’s look at these ones over here." He said leading the way. "I would suggest this one or this one.” Holding up two packs, one was a used dark multi brown with some of the stitching having obviously been replaced, the other was new a light yellowish tan with fine close stitching.

"How much are they?"

"This used one is eight coppers, this other one is a full silver but will last a lot longer," said the tanner.

"I'll take the new one then, sir."

"Fine choice, young man. I feel I should tell you Greg does the stitching on the packs."

"OK? The new one is still the better pack. Even I can see that, all the stitches line up and both sides of it are the same length or as close as I can tell," said Alec looking closely at it.

"Same number of stitches on each side too," said Greg coming up behind him.

"Hi Greg," Alec said turning around.

"So you like my pack." He said.

"Well yah it looks like good work." Alec said taking a small step back.

"I see," he said as he walked away.

Alec paid Mr. Tanner a full silver and was given a copper back along with the explanation that when buying or selling something the owner expected to haggle over the price, at least to some degree.

They headed to Jake's home where Alec was given a heartfelt farewell by his parents after a very nice supper then headed to his room to pack, leaving out only his clothes for the next day.

Alec woke at dawn and made sure there wasn't anything he was forgetting. Looking around the room it seemed bigger without his things in it. Ralph was leaning against his door as he came out ready to go.

"Well son, it's your big day, just wanted to say good luck on your journey. You look up old Ralph when you stop in." Ralph told him sticking his hand out for Alec to shake, one of his big infectious smiles on his face.

"I will Ralph, and thanks for all your help. You've taught me a lot." Alec said shaking his hand.

The two smiled at each other as they went to breakfast. Jake and James were already seated and eating and waved him over. He ate while James told them of the lands they would be riding through. Most of it was farm country and dirt roads. They would stop at a few farms along the way and stay at an inn once they got to the capital.

All too soon it was time to go. They had strapped their things to the pack horse and Aunt Karen came out to see them off.

"You behave up there and don't forget to write me." She said hugging him close and her voice breaking.

"Yes, Aunt Karen." He replied equally emotional.

They mounted the horses with a final wave to Karen, who stood there with tears in her eyes.

Chapter 6

Father Brandon of The Gods Temple in Kingston arrived late to his office and saw the piles of correspondences sitting on his desk. He was in charge of the surrounding areas priests, many of whom thought the solstice was the perfect time to send in a report.

He rubbed his eyes knowing it would be a long day of reading. His secretary had obviously been in earlier and attempted to organize them by region. Five neat stacks waited for him to read through.

Choosing the smallest just so he could say he had one region done he opened the letters one after the other. The majority of them were basically the same. The local priest wishing him a good solstice and giving population counts as well as some of the local gossip.

He normally tried to skim past most of the gossip not really giving a damn about Mr. whoever starting to court Mrs. what’s her name.

He continued dragging his way through each region till lunch when his secretary under priest, Bart, brought him his lunch. While reclining back on two legs of his chair and nibbling on a chicken leg, he noticed the pile from the southern region looked a little thick even for being one of the fastest growing areas. He thumbed through them reading the names of each priest, having memorized them quite a while ago. When he came across Father Marcus's name for the third time he pulled them out to read first and tossed the rest back on to his desk.

He remembered Father Marcus as being a fair gossip but not so much that it would require him to send three letters. He opened the first one hoping there wasn't another outbreak of the wasting sickness again. The letter went as he suspected it would other than the fact that the farm's owner was considering petitioning the crown for a writ of township.

Father Brandon tore open the second one and read it. It was short and to the point. One of the local boys had manifested the ability for magic and Marcus was going to try to find a way to test him.

He pinched his nose between two fingers in concentration. If he was right and the boy had power it could mean one of the older magic families wasn't dead. The area was originally owned by several of them in the far past. If a forgotten line was coming out it would have to be taken care of or at least watched closely.

He almost didn't want to open the last letter afraid of what it might mean.

Tearing it open anyway and reading carefully he sat back heavily before reading it again. The boy had power, a lot of power and control that sounded frightening. On top of all that he had affinities for fire and water, two that would be dangerous even for a wizard let alone a sorcerer and if he was a Mage that would be a recipe for disaster. It was enough to give him indigestion.

Father Brandon set his chair down and left his office with the letters.

“I've gone to speak with Father Tillman if anyone comes looking for me,” he told Bart.

He walked down the bare halls of temple until he came to the outer offices of Father Tillman. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly he opened the door and stepped through.

The reception area was a comfortable setting with comfortable chairs that matched the rug beneath them. Paintings on the walls depicted some of the gods in their various acts of greatness. He told the under priest that he needed to speak with Father Tillman as soon as he was available and took a seat to wait.

Normally if it wasn't this serious Father Brandon
would have just asked Bart to forward the letters on for him but this required him to come personally.  Father Brandon really wished he could have just taken the letters to his own superior but protocol was very explicit in these matters. He waited for what felt like an eternity, the comfortable chair becoming less so.

Father Tillman opened his door and Father Brandon stood to bow to a superior.

“Father Brandon, I believe. What can I do for you on such a beautiful day?” He held out an arm showing him in to the office.

It was much like Father Brandon's own but with furniture that was much less humble. From the cherry topped wood desk to the matching chairs, it made the office look much richer indeed.

Father Brandon took one of the offered chairs and handed over the letters. Father Tillman read them in the same order he had, his face turning from a passive look of peace to one of controlled excitement. The man lived for the chase and didn't care who knew it. He set the letters off to one side and picked up a quill.

“Tell me about the area and the people that live there. I need to know about the boy's family and any relatives he might have,” said Father Tillman as he dipped his quill in ink.

“The boy's name is Alec Carter. He's an orphan being raised by his Aunt, Karen Carter. I'm certain their family has been in the area for quite some time. His mother’s last name was Polseen I believe,” said Father Brandon.

Father Tillman asked him several questions but none he knew the answers to. Father Brandon told him the area was once home to a now dead magic family called Palstar and that there might be a possibility that the Polseen family could have been an off shoot of them or a combination of them and the Stalleen family that was never recorded because neither thought they had any power. It was clear conjecture on Father Brandon's part but Father Tillman wrote it down anyway.

Father Tillman told him that he would take care of things from there and if he came across any more information to bring it strait a way.

With Father Brandon gone from his office he set about writing to some of his contacts. The boy would be coming through Kingston so he wrote one letter to a highwayman he'd used in the past. Pulling out a small book he thumbed through it till he found the name of a wizard who was attending the academy that he had helped out in the past. He wouldn't put it past the wizard to find some enjoyment in taking care of this little problem for him.

With most of his work done for the day Father Tillman reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and brought out a very old and worn book. He should have turned it in by now or destroyed it himself but curiosity had been nagging at him to read through it. It was the work of an old man held in the custody of the temple. The man was considered an oracle and had proven himself numerous times before his death. The book was his life’s work.

The book started the same way as the official temple manuscript telling how the gods had taken responsibility for their world. The only difference was the book’s explanation of how man came to be. The temple version said that man was created by the gods, each giving a little piece of themselves to breathe life into man. The hearse said that man and the gods were once one and the same and that man was basically the product of gods that weren’t able to gain access to the realm of pure spirit because of their lesser power. Father Tillman looked at the book in disgust, that anyone would actually believe the crap in it was beyond him.

He threw the book back into his drawer to look at later when he was bored.

James and the boys rode through the high rolling hills with wheat fields on both sides of the road for a while. They only stopped to eat lunch at one of the farms along the way before continuing on till the sun began to set. After riding through a hillside that had been gradually flattening out James found them an easy camping spot along the side of the road as the sun began to set. Starting a small fire and setting out their bed rolls, James set to putting together a light but tasty stew with chunks of salted pork that Karen had packed for them. With the pace of trip and not really knowing what to say to one another conversation was light or nonexistent.