Spellscribed: Conviction (21 page)

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Authors: Kristopher Cruz

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Weldom grunted, but didn’t interject. Klaira held her hands out and gingerly accepted the staff. The presence of power disappeared from his senses, but it seemed that Klaira could detect it was there. “Of course.” She said. “I’ll probably have my hands full just examining it.”

“Joven?” Endrance asked, turning to his companion.

“What?” Joven exclaimed. “I’m not going to apologize.”

Endrance suppressed a laugh. “Didn’t think you would.” He said.  “Just… don’t try to kill one of the highest of my order again, even if they are an asshole.”

“Fine.” Joven said, glaring at Weldom. “If you insist.”

“We need to get you back to your room.” Weldom insisted. “As much as I would like to consider your brazen displays of ability amazing, I’ve got a lot more to worry about than a teenager flexing his muscles for his friends.”

Ahmed looked to Endrance and shrugged. “All right.” He said. “Since High King Mastadon delayed the rest of the proceedings until tomorrow, I need you to be on your best behavior until I see you again.”

“Sure.” Endrance said, watching Klaira meander out of the room, almost paying more attention to the staff than she was avoiding walking into walls. He thought he heard her talking to it before she went out of sight.

“Hey, where’s Selene?” Joven asked.

“I thought she was with you guys.” Endrance said, concerned. “She left my room ages ago.”

“I didn’t find Bridget or Tanya either.” Joven said, scratching his head. “I came straight here from Meryl’s place.”

“I was worried you all didn’t know where the trial was being held.” Endrance stated.

“Everyone knows where the trial is.” Joven said.

“Oh.” Endrance said, thinking. “Can you go look for them?”

Joven shook his head. “You didn’t have to ask, you know.” He patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll be here with them in time for the trial, no matter what happens.”

“Thank you, Joven.” Endrance said, bumping the barbarian on the arm with a fist. “And thank you for the work on the staff. It is an amazing gift. You have no idea the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished.”

Joven shrugged. “You’re right.” He turned to leave. “I don’t.”

Endrance turned to the remaining members of the Circle. “So,” he said. “What’s your name?” he asked of the rotund mage.

“Logan.” The man said, blinking. “How did you do that with the wards?”

Endrance looked back at the warded dais. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “I put up my defenses and shoved through it.”

Logan exchanged a glance with Alana. “Your defenses can shield you against magic that powerful?”

“Nonsense.” Alana said. “Those wards cannot be resisted that easily. Though perhaps, if he can control a Grandstaff then he might have a few other elven tricks.”

“I… I don’t have any elven tricks.” Endrance protested. “I only know two elves, and one of them was trying to kill me.”

“Sure.” Logan said. He turned to Weldom. “I’ll escort him to his room. It’ll get me a bit of exercise.”

Weldom took a few seconds to consider the words he wanted to use. “I’m sure you’ll get enough.” He said. “Stairs.”

“Oh yes.” Logan turned to Endrance and gestured for him to follow. The wizard followed after the portly man. “I do remember what those look like.”

Endrance followed him out of the room. “Thank you.” He said, rubbing the back of his head. “I think Weldom has some grudge against me.”

“Dreadful things.” Logan replied.

“What?” Endrance asked. His mind involuntarily started spinning through what possible things Weldom would have in store for him.

“Stairs.” Logan said. “They’re horrible. It’s why I specialize in teleportation magic. It’s much easier to make reality move for you.” He stressed the ‘for’ in his statement.

“Oh.” Endrance said.

They walked outside the building and found dozens, if not hundreds, of people waiting to talk to them. Logan clicked his tongue, said a word and grabbed Endrance’s arm-

They were standing at the courtyard at the mage’s tower. The spherical golden door stood closed, waiting for them to open it.

“See what I mean?” Logan exclaimed. “Much easier.”

“So Weldom doesn’t have a grudge?” Endrance asked, starting to feel inured to the significantly higher level of power the mages he’d been talking to possessed.

“I didn’t say that.” Logan replied, frowning as he thought. He seemed to lose focus on the world, and Endrance waited several seconds in awkward silence. Endrance finally opened the tower door for the man, and that seemed to be enough to spur him out of his reverie.

“Look,” Logan began, walking through the magnificent white marble and gold inlaid halls, as he led the way to the stairs. “You seem like a good kid, save for your flair for the dramatic.”

“Blame Kaelob.” Endrance replied quickly. “He always believed that statements needed to be made with style.”

“Figured. Anyway, you seem like you’re in over your head here and I’m not a heartless man. So I’ll tell you something that takes most of us decades, or even a century to learn.” Logan started up the stairs. He seemed highly mobile despite his weight. Endrance remained silent, listening as his superior continued on.

“You’re thinking in the wrong frame of mind, kid. Right now, you’re thinking dropping a name like Valeria is a clever tactic; and effective though it may be, it has repercussions, the likes of which you haven’t anticipated. This isn’t really your fault; it’s impossible to teach the length of mind to a species who lives merely decades a generation.”

Though his breath came a little bit faster, Logan was no more out of breath than Endrance was, and he was talking constantly as they passed another floor. “You might think that nothing you do will cause any trouble for the Circle or for Ironsoul, but you need to look at it differently.”

Logan hesitated, stopping on a step to look Endrance in the eyes. “Though we’ve been here about eight hundred years, since the founding of Ironsoul by King Mastadon the first, up until a few years ago, we still had members of our Circle who had been alive since the day it was founded. Our Circle is young. Very young. And we’ve got to all remember that.”

Endrance felt a mental click in his head, the sensation of the concept Logan gave him taking root. The man turned and continued the ascent. “But humans live shorter lives than we do. Once you get strong enough to pass your trials, a human typically has opened himself up to enough power that he will live for at least a century if he stayed at that level. Most don’t stay at entry level either, but the point is that you can’t consider what you plan on doing for the next decade as long term anymore.”

“This is important because you just opened up wounds that your mother may have left in other mages. Mages hundreds of years your superiors, and who think like we do, and have found that waiting sixteen years to get some form of vengeance against her is like a commoner waiting until tomorrow.”

Endrance considered the man’s words and remained quiet. The act of climbing the stairs was becoming a point of meditation for him. Step, step, think about time. Step, step, think about how he would live to make friends or enemies that could potentially last for centuries. Step, step, think about how letting everyone know his mother’s identity just put a target on his back.

“Here’s your room.” Logan said as they approached. Ethan’s sister Gwen was on duty, and she nodded her head to the elder mage as they walked up.

“Oh, so that’s what Endrance looks like.” She said, tilting her head as she took in his appearance. “You look exactly like Ethan said, except perhaps a bit more handsome than his telling.”

Gwen was a woman of average height and build, but she carried herself confidently. She wore a steel breastplate over leather, well-kept and free of marks. Her hair was light brown and kept cut in a pageboy style that worked with her lean face. She had a pair of short swords at her hips, and more throwing knives on her person. The only other oddity about her was the somewhat threadbare crimson scarf she wore around her neck that was still long enough to trail down to her calves behind her.

Endrance raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything about it. It wasn’t even that cold to him in the tower, but he had spent over a year in a high altitude, perpetually snowcapped mountain city, so he didn’t think it too out of place. Instead. he gave her a smile.

“I’m sure he’d want to have all the glory.” He replied.

Gwen shrugged. “Sounds like my brother.” She said with a smirk. “Get on in there. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

Endrance rolled his eyes. “I don’t think your job was supposed to be keeping people away from me.” He exclaimed jokingly.

Gwen waved a hand at him, indicating his general person. “After what you just told everyone?” she asked. “No way. There will be others here, soon as they realize where you are.”

“Gods.” Endrance muttered. “Was she really that horrible? I was raised in Wayrest my whole life and no one talked of her.”

Gwen shrugged. “I was a wee little thing when she was in charge, but basically she was a fine Archmagus. Left us little people alone. Though from what I’ve heard, she hadn’t been the most attentive of her duties the last few years.”

“Only the High King had seen her during the year before she died.” Logan added. “Either way, I’m going to add an extra guard for the door tonight, all right?”

Gwen sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She drawled. “Just… try not to send me anybody boring. I hate standing watch with someone who’s boring.”

Logan glanced at Endrance. “I’ll try.” He said. “Kid, get on in and get some rest. The High King may have cut the proceedings short today, but he’ll want to accelerate through them tomorrow to catch up.”

Endrance nodded. “All right.” He said. He turned to Gwen. “My life is in your capable hands.”

Gwen’s lip twitched into a barely suppressed smile. “Any chance your big barbarian friend’s gonna come by?” She asked. “He’s cute.”

Endrance paused. He smiled, opening the door to his room and walking in. “And single.” He added.

As the door swung closed he caught a glimpse of her pumping her fist. “Yes!” she whispered. Logan was shaking his head as the door clicked shut.

Chapter 12:

Endrance sighed as he flopped down on the bed, brooding on the fact that the revelation of his parentage would mean he could be getting bombarded by apprentices and fellow mages alike, all vying to either pepper him with questions or enact some perceived grudge held against his mother.

He could hear voices outside the room, and then Gwen speaking as she sent them off. Endrance closed his eyes and drifted off, as the muffled sounds of voices eventually faded away. He awoke in what felt like seconds later, to find the room dark. A moment of worry went through him. He’d never seen the room completely dark before; he’d just used the curtains around the bed since he didn’t like messing around with any potential enchantments on the lights. His eyes shifted to the lack of darkness, reflexively channeling his acquired ability to see in the dark. Suddenly, the room became clearly visible, save for it being in greatly muted colors.

He was not alone in the room. Three people, all men in blank porcelain masks, approached. One crouched by the desk, slowly creeping forward with what looked like a dagger in each hand. He could see another person by the door, holding a crossbow. The third had managed to get around to the side of the bed, a long cord in between his hands.

Endrance saw the one with the cord stiffen, as he doubtless saw the green rings of light emanating from Endrance’s eyes and realized he was being watched. Endrance knew that someone would know if he used magic, and he had been told that any attempt to harm people would be considered a confession of guilt.

Endrance closed his eyes and rolled towards the third man, slipping off the bed and falling to the floor between the bed and his assailant. Channeling the goblin shaman gave him more than just the ability to see in the dark; he also had access to the instincts and memories of a creature of darkness. He landed on his fingertips and toes, muffling the sound of his impact to a tap. Just as quickly, he scuttled along on his fingers and toes underneath the bed, the skirt draping over him as he slid out of sight of the crossbow.

The man who had seen his eyes lunged for his bed a split second later, and Endrance heard the wood groan with the sudden impact, and he crawled out from under the foot of the bed as quickly and quietly as possible. Though he had the skill and experience of something that had been skulking about in strangely contorted ways for years, his physical body had none of that training, and his muscles were already shaking from just seconds of effort moving about on his fingertips.

The guy with the knives had frozen, his ears straining to hear Endrance’s movements. The wizard didn’t have many options. He couldn’t hurt them; Weldom had made that exceptionally clear. However, Endrance wasn’t about to let them get their way either.

He lowered down onto his palms, giving his trembling fingers a rest. He didn’t have many spells that couldn’t cause harm, so he would have to convince them he was gone. He had an illusion spell he could use, but he hadn’t practiced much with it, and he didn’t feel he would have the time to cast it before he was found and silenced.

The door cracked open, and the guy with the crossbow lurched to the side, raising his weapon. In response, the door flung open hard, causing the man to stumble closer into the room. The other two immediately turned to the one at the door. Endrance saw who it was, and smiled in relief.


Illumius.
” The man at the table whispered harshly, and Endrance felt a very faint trickle of power slip from the man’s aura. So he was a spellcaster.

The lights in the room brightened, and his eyes adjusted just in time to see Gwen spin around him half crouched. She had a short sword in each hand, the blades made of the same milky-white metal as Joven’s axe.

She swung the first blade, slicing through the wooden crossbow stock as if it were butter, in the process also slicing through the man’s right forearm. As he screamed and stumbled back, she leapt forward, kicking off the corner of the desk and going into a spin that brought her towards the knife wielding assailant like a lethal top.

The man didn’t seem prepared to defend against such an attack and tried to jump back. The room was not big enough for maneuvers though, and his back slammed up against the wall the same time one of her blades bit into his collarbone, shearing straight through it. The swing of her sword left a foot long gash in the stone above where the man stood, ending where his shoulder had begun.

He dropped with a groan as Gwen smoothly ducked the man who lunged towards her exposed back with the garrote, and kicked out with one booted foot. Endrance winced as he was in a prime position to see and hear the man’s knee crunch under her blow, and the man screamed out in pain as she turned, catching him in the side of the head with the pommel of one sword.

She turned to the first man, who had lost a hand and part of his arm. “You’re gonna wanna stop the bleeding if you wanna live.” She said. His face was pale, but determined, as he raised what remained of the crossbow. Though the stock had been cut through, the trigger and bow section remained intact.

Gwen threw herself to the floor as he fired, the bolt catching her on the outside of her right arm. She hit the ground with a grunt, but didn’t scramble to her feet.

She turned her head, spotting Endrance under the bed. “Oh, hey there!” she said somewhat cheerfully. “You managed to get somewhere safe in a hurry.”

“You… you’re bleeding!” Endrance stammered. “What about that guy?”

Gwen glanced over at the last man as he sank to his knees. Endrance noticed that the back of her head was bloody. “He was done the moment he shot his only bolt.” She said. “Bled too much, and now he’s going into shock.”

“What about you?” Endrance asked. “What happened to your head?”

Gwen picked herself up. “Hold on.” She said. “I need to see if it’s clear.”

She left the room, walking in what would be thought of as a casual stroll, though Endrance had seen the Sha’hdi assassin enough times to know from her muscle tension that she was anything but relaxed. He heard a brief sound of sudden movement over stone, a half muted cry of pain and the sound of metal striking flesh.

Gwen walked in, shrugging. “It’s clear.” She said.

Endrance started to slither out from under the bed. He released his focus on the goblin’s memories, and his eyes returned to normal.

“You and Joven both share very similar concepts of what being clear means.” Endrance admitted.

Gwen smiled. “I like him more already.”

“Let me see your arm.” Endrance said, gesturing to her.

Gwen turned so he could see the wound. “It’s not really a big deal.” She said. “It’s gonna scar like hell though. That sucks.”

“Barbarians dig scars.” Endrance muttered, looking it over.

“Oh right.” she said, and Endrance peeled away the damaged leather.

“All right.” He said, grasping her elbow below the injury with his left hand. “One second.”

Endrance started to cast, using the long form of the spell. He wanted to take the time, since he was doing it one-handed and he wanted to test a theory of his that he was unsure of.

“Hey wait. You’re not supposed-” Gwen started to protest, but the healing spell started to kick in, and relief rinsed some of the rigidity from her stance.

Endrance knew as soon as he cast the spell, that he had been right. The healing spell worked as it was intended, and he had estimated just enough power to set the wound two weeks down the healing process, closing the injury over and knitting most of the damaged tissue. He also felt several spells focusing on the room change. They had always been active, but now after casting the spell they seemed to go from a dormant state to a more active mode. At least now someone would know something was up.

“Thanks, doc.” Gwen said, prodding the new skin over the wound. She winced a little, nodding. “Not a full patch job, but that’s a good start.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” He said. “My healing magic’s not the best.”

Gwen shrugged, looking around. “Most mages don’t bother. You’ve got balls though, casting a spell in a room like this.”

“What do you mean?” Endrance asked.

“This is a room meant specifically for keeping you satisfied, but secured. Of course, they’re going to have magic inlaid to keep you from doing something dumb, like blasting your way to freedom.” She answered, prying the mask off the man with the collar wound. “Of course, they’ll know you used healing magic and someone’s just gonna wonder why you needed that in the middle of the night.”

“Who is it?” Endrance asked.

Gwen frowned. “I know this joker.” She exclaimed, checking the other two. All three masked men looked to be in their late forties. “Yeah.” She said, adjusting her scarf. “They’ve been around the lower floors of the tower for years.”

“Years?”

“Yeah.” Gwen said. “I think they’re what you call ‘professional apprentices.’ They’re good enough to not drum out of the Circle as failures, but never quite good enough to become wizards. No wonder they’re pissed; they were all old enough to be my grandpa. And here you are, a few years younger than me, and a full wizard, too.”

“What happened? How did they get in my room?” Endrance questioned.

Gwen let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s totally my fault.” She said, waving her arms. “I was on duty, and my brother came by to talk to me. They jumped us while we were facing each other. A stupid, amateur mistake.”

“Your brother?” Endrance asked. “Elric?”

“No, Ethan.” She said. “When I came to a few moments later, he was gone. I think he’s getting help.”

Down the hall, the sounds of many armed men running and shouting could finally be heard.

“Ah good.” She said, nodding. “Or we’re about to get overrun by superior numbers.”

Endrance sat on the side of the bed, trying to avoid sitting in or standing on any puddles of blood. “You seem awfully nonchalant about all this.” He observed.

“I’ve been doing stuff like this since I was fifteen.” She said. “Momma always said I should have been a librarian, or a cobbler.” Gwen rubbed her head, that injury also healed by Endrance’s magic. “Like I want to be a damned boring shoemaker.”

Four guards in highly enchanted armor burst into the room, leaping adroitly over the bodies of the dead. They each wore circular shields on their left hands that were polished to a mirror finish, and black iron truncheons in the other that crackled with electricity.

“What in the hells…” the lead guard said, her nose crinkling at the sight of the three dead apprentices.

Gwen gave them all a smile. “Relax!” she said. “The situation is under control. And don’t worry I was the one that killed them.”

“All five?” the guard asked.

Gwen shrugged. “Yeah?” she said, looking confused. “Mister Sleeps-In-The-Nude over there, was politely under the bed and out of my way the whole time.”

Endrance looked down, realizing that he had indeed, again, forgotten to put on clothes. “Ugh.” He grunted, reaching for the sheets.

The guards looked at each other, and turned back to Gwen. “Report.” One commanded.

“Excuse me.” Endrance said, raising a hand. The guards tensed, keeping an eye on his tattooed hands. He lowered his arm, holding them on his now covered lap.

“Yes, Sir Mage?” the guard asked.

“I’m glad I didn’t die and all.” He said, looking over the room. “But there’s blood and other bits soaking into the rugs, and my dresser, and my desk…”

“Understood.” She replied, looking back at the rearmost guard, who nodded and left the room. “We’ll have your room cleaned up and repaired in a few minutes, sir.”

Endrance blinked, falling back onto the pillows, which had miraculously avoided getting any blood or gore on them. “Thank you.” He said. His body, aching from the short period of time it had been trying to move in ways it wasn’t supposed to, found the soft bedding too hard to ignore, despite the circumstances. He wondered just how inured to violence he had become, that he could be drifting off just after several people just tried to kill him.

* * *

Endrance was taken before the kings again the next morning. This time, his companions waited, sitting at one of the closest benches to Ahmed’s table. Joven was dozing as Endrance was walked to the dais.

The big man looked like he had not had the chance to clean up since the day before. And he had several more smudges, and a few cuts and scrapes on his arms to top it all off. As he walked past, he saw Tanya look up from stitching a patch into a shirt and smile at him. His return smile faltered as he saw the other three. Bridget and Giselle were together, but for some reason, they each wore a thin, red leather collar on their necks, each sized to fit them snugly. A silver chain hung between the two, only a few feet in length. Bridget had her arms crossed and was brooding, while Giselle tried her best to wander off, despite the leash. She looked up and sighed heavily as she saw Endrance pass.

Selene was also present next to Bridget, but she had been tied up with thick ropes, enough of them that her upper body was almost cocooned in them. The end of the rope trailed back behind the bench, to Joven’s belt, where it was tied off. She was grumbling to herself until she saw Endrance, when her attitude shifted into a pleasing smile. Apparently, it was her shirt that Tanya was repairing, as it looked like only a bit of bed sheet was underneath the ropes.

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