Read The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1 Online

Authors: Timothy L. Cerepaka

Tags: #magic, #mage, #wizard, #gods, #school, #wand, #Adventure, #prince malock

The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1

BOOK: The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1
2.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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Table of Contents

Title Page

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Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Continued in: Mages of Martir Book 2: The Mage's Limits

About the Author

Acknowledgments

The Mage's Grave

Book One in the Mages of Martir

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

Published by Annulus Publishing

Copyright © Timothy L. Cerepaka 2015. All rights reserved.

Author: Timothy L. Cerepaka

Formatting by Timothy L. Cerepaka

Contact: [email protected]

Cover design by Elaina Lee of
For the Muse Design

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, send an email to the above contact.

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Chapter One

 

D
arek Takren, a student at North Academy and a pagomancer-in-training, found himself growing increasingly impatient. He stood on the steps of the Arcanium, the school's main building, along with the hundred and twenty other students who attended the school, as well as with most of the other teachers, too. There were only two people, as far as he could tell, who were not present, and that was the Magical Superior, the headmaster of the school, and Darek's own mother, Jenur Takren, who also happened to be one of the school's teachers.

Around him, the other students chatted and joked with each other. Some of the younger students were using their magic to perform clever little tricks they had learned in class, such as one student (whose name Darek could not recall at the moment) who was using his wand to make a ball of water transform into many different shapes. This student was so talented with his hydromancy that he could even make the water ball look like a miniature replica of the Arcanium itself, an impressive feat for so young a student.

But even while watching what his fellow students were doing to pass the time, Darek kept glancing at the sky and shifting his weight from foot to foot. That was probably because he had been one of the first students out on the front steps to greet their guests, who, according to the Magical Superior's earlier announcement, were supposed to be here any minute now.

That announcement had been an hour ago. At least the weather was nice. Bright sunshine—unusual for North Academy, seeing as it was set in the Great Berg, a massive icy wasteland located hundreds of miles north from the rest of civilization—shone down on them all, warming Darek's skin and giving him a great view of the sky and the gigantic ice Walls in the distance that surrounded the school. A cool breeze blew through, but it was not as cold as it normally was. Meanwhile, the steps beneath Darek's feet were warm, which was normal, seeing as they were made out of heatstone, a type of rock that naturally generated heat at all times. It was what the entire school was made of, in fact, which was the primary way that the students and faculty kept warm during the Great Berg's coldest months.

Purely out of boredom, he looked down at his clothes. He wore the same red-and-black robes that all students wore, as it was the official Academy uniform. The students were supposed to wear these robes at all times, but the Superior had stressed the importance of wearing their robes today in particular in order to give a disciplined, orderly, and effective first impression on their guests.

Straightening out his robes, Darek again looked up at the sky. Still no sign of the guests yet. They were supposed to arrive by airship. According to the gray ghost the guests had sent a while ago, the flying ship would be big and red and impossible to miss.

Darek had never seen an airship before. Having spent a good chunk of his thirty-five-year life in North Academy, he had only ever heard stories from the other students about the rest of the outside world. According to one of the students, who had worked as an airship engineer before making the dangerous trek through the Great Berg to reach the school, the Carnagians had designed and built the first airship, which had led to every other nation in the Northern Isles going on a mad scramble to make their own. Even the aquarians, the peoples of the sea, had joined the scramble, although their airships were different from human airships, as they also doubled as underwater vehicles they called 'submarines.'

The guests who were supposed to arrive on the airship were students from the Undersea Institute, the best and largest aquarian mage school. This was going to be the first time that aquarians had set foot in North Academy in years, which was partly why Darek was so nervous. He had never met an aquarian before, despite having been told all about them by his mother, and so he didn't quite know what to expect from aquarian mages and how they differed from human mages.

Darek's friend and fellow student, a middle-aged man named Jiku Nium, had said that aquarian magic was different from human magic, even though aquarians derived their magic from their connection to the gods just like humans did. According to Jiku, mastery of hydromancy was far more common among the aquarians than it was among humans and the aquarians had come up with different ways to integrate hydromancy with other magical disciplines. Pyromancy was apparently not in great use among them, for obvious reasons. Jiku had also stated that aquarians didn't use talismans to enhance their connection to the gods, which made Darek wonder if aquarian mages were weaker than human mages in terms of sheer magical power.

That had been yesterday, before Darek and Jiku had gone to bed in their shared dorm room, and Darek hadn't seen Jiku at all today. The older man had said that he was going to be there—he had to be, seeing as the Magical Superior had made the welcome of the Institute mages mandatory for everyone but the sickest students—but no matter where Darek looked, he did not see Jiku's silver gray hair that always reminded him of a helmet among the crowd of students awaiting the Institute mages.

As a matter of fact, Darek had not even seen Jiku in their dorm this morning when he got up. He had assumed that Jiku was already at breakfast, but when he had come downstairs to eat with his fellow dorm mates, Jiku had not been there, either, and none of the others had seen him that morning.

Jiku probably got sick, couldn't heal himself, and had to go see Eyurna,
Darek thought.
I'm sure he'll be here the minute he's feeling better.

“Darek!” called out a familiar feminine, musical voice. “There you are.”

Darek turned around to see a woman about his height, although much younger-looking than him, walking toward him through the crowd of students, a brilliant smile on her pearly white teeth. She had blonde hair, which actually looked good with her Academy uniform, and slung over her shoulder was her beautiful black guitar, its polished wood surface reflecting the light of the sun that shone down upon it.

“Aorja Kitano,” said Darek, returning the smile as Aorja walked past a couple of younger students who were making mini ice statues fight each other. “Where have you been? The Institute mages are supposed to be here any minute. You could have missed them.”

Aorja's smile didn't waver as she stopped in front of Darek; if anything, it got wider. “Oh, I just had to run back to the Third Dorm real quick to get my guitar. Thought the Institute mages might be interested in listening to some human music. Mousimancy is the language of the sea, right?”

“I'm not sure that's what that phrase means, but I'm sure the Institute mages will appreciate the thought nonetheless,” said Darek. “Have you seen Jiku?”

“Jiku?” said Aorja. “No. I haven't. Why?”

“He's been missing all morning,” said Darek, “even though he said he'd been here. I haven't heard from him since last night.”

“Maybe he's sick,” Aorja offered. “I heard there were a few students in the medical wing as of this morning, but I heard Eyurna was working overtime to get them all healed up so that everyone could be present to greet the Institute mages today.”

“That's what I thought, too,” said Darek. “It's not good for a man his age to get sick like this.”

“He'll probably be fine,” said Aorja. “Jiku's a tough old guy and Eyurna is the best panamancer in all of the Northern Isles. If he's sick, I'm sure he'll be fine in no time.”

She said that with such confidence that Darek had a hard time doubting her.

So he said, “If you say so, Aorja.”

“Of course I do,” said Aorja. “Anyway, why don't we sit back and wait for the—”

“Darek, Aorja,” said another feminine voice, this one sounding older than Aorja.

Both of them turned to see a middle-aged woman walking toward them, her robes billowing behind her in the wind that had started up. The older woman had short, curly hair that was still quite black, although Darek was starting to notice a handful of gray hairs beginning to appear in a few places. The woman walked far more quickly than most women her age, no doubt due to the fact that she was quite fit due to the rigorous training exercises she practiced daily.

“Hey, Mom,” said Darek, giving her a brief hug when she was within hugging distance before pulling away. “Where is the Superior?”

Mom scratched the back of her neck. “He's almost ready to come down. He just needs to do a few more things. I was going to stay and wait for him, but he told me to go down and he'd catch up later.”

“So wait,” said Aorja, glancing up at the tower on top of the Arcanium, where the Superior's study was. “Are you telling us that the Superior, who made it mandatory for every student to be down here to greet the Institute mages, is going to be one of the last people here?”

“Something came up while he was getting ready,” said Mom vaguely. “One of the gods wanted to talk with him and you know how much those gods hate it when we mortals do not listen to them.”

Darek was not surprised. The Magical Superior was one of the few mortals—maybe even the only mortal—who had regular, daily discussions with the gods. This was because of the Magical Superior's deep understanding of magic and even deeper loyalty to the gods themselves. He wondered if the gods actually looked upon the Superior as their equal or not.

BOOK: The Mage's Grave: Mages of Martir Book #1
2.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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