#mages being punished for being born with magic and persecuted for that alone

[kneipho]

Law's Challenge (Short(ish) ) Story

Written and submitted by the demiurgic @dreamwriter5000

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Law’s Challenge

“It’s gotten worse. I can hardly feel it anymore.” Her twin, Gavin said, coming out of the light trance he used to find and collect magical energy.

Mara shivered with dread. Without magic, they would have to rely on fire for heat, and their own skills for the other amenities of life. After so many generations of magic use, there were tasks where she wasn’t sure those skills were sufficient any longer.

“Did you See anything?’ Gavin added as he held out a hand in a request for help getting to his feet.  She complied, helping him up and helping him balance on his good leg while he retrieved his staff. He’d been born lame, the victim of a curse cast on their mother when she was pregnant with them. The curse had caused the ankle bone in his left leg to warp, making standing or walking on it very difficult. Healers had been unsuccessful in their efforts to counter the curse’s effects. Gavin could manage with the aid of a staff and on a horse he was the equal of anyone in the clan.

“Yes.” Mara said carefully. “I’ve seen the one who can help us.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Gavin asked, puzzled by her somber mood. Firelight danced in his blue eyes and caught highlights in hair so pale, one could be forgiven for thinking either of them was wearing a cap of snowbird feathers.

“The one I saw is a bone priestess.” As she expected, Gavin’s disquiet became a tightly controlled anger. He hated the bone people, holding one of their priestesses responsible for the curse cast on their mother and for his own disability. He said, “Are you sure she is one who can help us, and not one who is responsible for the fading of the magic?”

“No, the vision was nebulous. I saw the priestess and I saw her familiar, a dark haired ape. Aside from this, there was only the sense that I needed to find her and that her familiar was central to the return of the magic.”

Mara shivered again at the memory; a sallow skinned woman with dark, tightly braided hair. She’d worn a purple and black headscarf with floral patterns and her face, above the lips was covered by the mask that identified her as a priestess.

Their mother had shown them such a mask once, taken from a defeated enemy. They were made of carefully carved and decorated bone.  The decorations on each mask declared not only the priestess’s level of skill with magic, but also her family affiliation and the number of enemy magicians she had defeated.

 The decorations Mara had seen on this woman’s mask included  a yellow ellipse on the forehead, a dark half circle beneath it, and three short lines bisected by a fourth beneath the half circle. Ten vertical lines had been painted along the mask’s edge above her lip. When Mara described it to her mother, she’d learned the masked woman was a junior priestess from an unknown family who had won at least ten arcane battles.

Gavin said, “Have  you spoken to the Elders about what you saw?”

“Yes. I was with them before I came here. They are discussing who will come with me.”

“With us.” Gavin corrected.

“I hope so.”

“There is no question. I will not allow my sister to face a Bone Priestess alone.”

Mara dropped her eyes and did not utter her doubts that their parents would be willing to risk both their children to such a venture.

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It may have been a longer road, but it’s better than declaring war on the Bone People. Mara gave her horse’s rein to Jag, one of the five clansfolk chosen to accompany her and Gavin as they sought contact with the priestess Mara had Seen, and dismounted. The rest of their party did the same.

Jag was a horse caster. He’d mastered spells for communicating with, healing, and controlling horses. As with almost everyone else, his spells were less effective now that the Magic had faded, but so far, his experience was making up for the lack.

This village was a trade hub called Tolerance Point. A prominent sign at the city gates listed an impressive number of rules forbidding persecution or harassment of any visitor and the punishments handed out to those who broke them. Mara had already reminded Gavin of the list twice as they passed travelling members of the Bone clan. When one of those had plainly been a priest of the Bone clan, Mara had wondered for a moment if the reminder would be enough. It had, barely.

Sheki was a finder. If she knew what she was Looking for, her spells led her to it. Of all of them, she was the only one who’s spells had maintained their efficiency, becoming noticeably stronger the closer they got to their target. Not even Torg, their mage, knew why. Mara might be able to See the Priestess, and know she was involved in the Magic’s loss, but Sheki would be the one who led them to her.

Torg had studied combative magic, particularly counter spells and spell breaking. With help from Gavin, who Collected Magic’s energy and could conduct it to a spell’s caster, Torg would shield them from arcane attacks, but his primary job was to figure out why the Magic was fading and counter whatever was causing the loss..

Karn was their master of stealth. He knew more ways of hiding and moving silently than anyone in the clan. He had his own collection of spells, but he’d also studied purely physical techniques of moving silently and avoiding notice. His skill with a dagger was unparalleled. He hunted by approaching without being noticed and cutting the throat before the prey knew he was there.

Shae was their Envoy. She knew spells for charm and for reading another’s intent.  She also knew what the Clan Elders would and would not approve in terms of contracts and treaties. If they did run into Bone People, she would handle any negotiations. At the moment, she was securing lodgings for them.

With this group, one wonders why I am here. I’m not sure why a Seer is needed now that Sheki has her focus. Mara thought. She had other skills that would be useful on the trip; she was a particularly good at cooking without magic, for example, but nothing the others didn’t also possess.

“You can provide  a reminder if Sheki loses her trace.” Gavin murmured as they waited for Sheki to finish her latest search. “Your presence also keeps the rest of us focused. Without you, Sheki will forget she does not have Shae’s sweet tongue and try to take on the first unfortunate soul that gets in her way. Torg would lose himself in the pool of magic I create for him, Jag would do the same with the horses, and Karn would decide it might be fun to see how many Bone People he can surprise.”

Mara met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. He always knew when she was troubled, and generally had a pretty good idea of the reason. When they were younger, she’d thought he should train as an Envoy, but he could only read her. Their mother thought it came of being twins.

“And  you? What do I keep your focus from?”

“Joining Karn.” He said with a grin, before adding, “If I thought I could. More likely I would become lost in a Collector’s version of twiddling my thumbs. There is beauty in power, especially when a Collector has the leisure to structure it as he wishes.”

Mara made no reply, remembering how Gavin had listened to many of Karn’s lessons. He’d even learned some of the spells. He accepted training as a Collector only when he had proved to himself that he would never be able to master the physical skills Karn was learning. Mara was certain he still felt envy for Karn’s ability to move and kill silently.

The Bone People would be a smaller tribe if he could.

She looked to Sheki, who had completed her search and now gestured toward the better of the town’s two inns. Mara said, “Is she there?”

“Not at the moment,” Sheki said. “She’s off in that direction.” Sheki pointed toward the market square before adding, “She was there this morning, and has been in and out for the last three or four days.”

“Then it’s good that they have rooms left.” Shae said, returning from her hunt for lodgings. “I got the last two rooms. One on the ground floor, the other on the—”

“She’s mad!” Gavin exclaimed suddenly, drawing stares from more than one passerby. Mara signaled sharply for him to watch his words. His next words were quieter, but equally fervent. “Torg! Look at the third floor room, what do you See?”

Mara had no ability to sense magical energy, she could only watch as not only Torg, but everyone else focused their magical senses on the indicated room. After several moments, Torg’s breath caught and he muttered several obscenities. The reactions of the others were not as strong, but clearly something was amiss in the room Gavin had noticed.

Mara tapped Gavin’s shoulder and raised a questioning eyebrow.

Gavin glanced back briefly, shuddered, and then faced her and said, “Whoever did this, they’ve twisted the magic so that it feeds back on itself. This draws in more and more magic, like a metal blade will attract a lodestone.”

“Why is that wrong? I thought that was what you did.”

“It is, but here, the magic is confined, not allowed to disperse when there is nothing for it to do. If whoever did this was not constantly draining it, it would—combust or explode. The release of that much uncontrolled magic, it would overwhelm even set spells. Everything would get washed away. Those who can see magic, we’d be blinded; temporarily if we’re lucky, forever if we’re not. The energy might even leak into the physical world, causing fires or earthquakes.”

The others had turned their attention away from the source of magic and Shae had noticed an increase in the attention passersby were paying them. She said, 

“Perhaps we could continue this conversation inside. I don’t know about everyone else, but I could use a bath and a meal before I have to contemplate an uncontrolled explosion of magic.”

“So,” Mara’s soft words reached only Torg’s ears. “How likely is this explosion of magic?”

“Not very.” Torg kept his own voice low. “ The containment and whatever is draining power is stable. I would not have dared such a situation, but whoever set this up knew what they were doing.”

Torg shrugged and headed inside. Seeing his confidence, the others  followed, except for Jag, who took the horses to the Inn’s stable. They split the rooms, with the men taking the ground floor room and the women taking the one on the third floor, where three doors separated them from the magic’s source.

When Jag returned from caring for the horses, everyone collected clean clothes and met in the common room. Shae directed them to the bath house and arranged for a meal.

Clean, and anticipating food she had no hand in preparing, Mara returned to the common room with Sheki to find the Torg and Shae already digging into a generous dinner of spiced beef, sautéed vegetables, and bread. She had her choice of beer or cider to drink. The others trailed in soon after and they all dug into the food with enthusiasm.

The door to the main entrance opened and a woman paused at the threshold while her eyes adjusted to the lower light level.

Sheki drew a sharp breath and gripped Mara’s shoulder. She said, “That’s her.”  Mara tried to see past the glare of the sun shining behind the woman and failed. The woman’s dress was very similar to the one she’d seen in her vision and her hair was drawn back in a similar fashion. Details required waiting until the woman entered the common room.

Their quarry felt their regard and, as her eyes adjusted, she recognized their costume. Her posture became defensive and one hand went to the largest of the medallions hanging from her neck. She said, “I don’t want trouble.”

“And I won’t have it within my walls.” The innkeeper added. “Take your issues outside.”

Torg laid a restraining hand on Gavin’s wrist and Shae put on her Envoy “face”. An abrupt sense of calm told Mara she’d cast a spell to prevent any hasty or violent actions. The Bone woman apparently had an impressive shielding spell, for she remained tense and defensive as Shae said, “ We don’t want trouble either, only answers to some questions. Will you eat with us?”

The Bone woman relaxed a bit and her hand left the medallion. She nodded and Jag got up long enough to purloin a chair for her from another table.

“I’m Shae, of the snow clan.” Shae introduced the rest of their group and said, “And what shall I call you?”

“Laroi. Of the House of the Rising Sun.” She said. A waiter arrived with Laroi’s dinner and Shae waited for him to leave and for Laroi to take several bites of food before saying,

“Has the Rising Sun clan noticed the fading of magical energy in the lands to the north?”

Laroi took her time in answering, so much time that Gavin almost hurled a barbed conversational goad. Instead, Laroi nodded and said, “Yes, but it is not only the northern lands, it is happening in all the lands surrounding our home.”

“Not in your own lands?”

Laroi shook her head. “Do you know why? Shae asked.

“I do not know,” Laroi said, her tone flat, not hostile.

“You have suspicions?” Shea answered.

“There are always rumors.” Laroi admitted.

“What is the most prevalent rumor?”

Laroi didn’t answer, preferring to inquire, “Why do you want to know?”

“Because my companions and I have been charged with finding out why the magic has faded and how to restore it. If you cannot tell us, we must find someone who can.”

“And what will you do, when you find him, or her, or them?”

“That depends on whether they agree to help us.” Gavin snapped. Shae glared at him and he subsided, but his expression was rebellious.

“My companion is…impetuous, and forgets his manners on occasion, but he is correct.” Shae admitted.

Laroi went silent again, plainly debating some internal question. With another warning glare at Gavin, Shae settled back to wait and see what she decided. Eventually Laroi said,

“Are any of you skilled in spell breaking? Exceptionally so, the spell I have in mind is not for amateurs. Breaking it will be no idle lark for a rainy day that holds nothing better to do.”

“Such skill is why I am part of this group,” Torg said. “Do you speak of a spell working in a certain room on the third floor?”

Laroi dropped her gaze and nodded. She said, “It was set on, you would call him a familiar, I think. He is more than a pet and less than an equal. Having charge of him is a sign of favor within my House. His kind do naturally what I think your impetuous companion has learned to do, collect and direct magic’s energy.

He was given to me when I achieved my current rank within the temple. At the time, I thought decisions regarding his welfare were entirely mine, unless my superiors thought I was neglecting or abusing him. I have learned that is not the case. The spell was cast without my consent. Since its placement Joso’s health has been slowly failing.

Among the members of my House, there are three magicians who are riding a wave of growing power. One of them created the spell. All three worked together to cast it on Joso and five other familiars. All I know of the spell, besides what it is doing to Joso, is that it forces him to collect far more energy than he would normally and store it, rather than pouring it into a spell. My superiors have decreed that it must remain in place until I complete my assigned task and return home. I do not think Joso will live that long.”

“What is your task?” Shae asked.

“To present a new treaty to each of your clans. Once it is signed, or refused, I would advise my superiors and they will release the magic. Only when that is done, will I be given the counter spell.”

“So, tell them you finished and everyone refused.” Gavin said, his voice drenched in sarcasm. Laroi ignored his tone and caught Mara’s eye.  Mara could almost hear the thought behind her expression.

Baby Brothers. Can’t live with them, and once they reach a certain age, you can’t give them punitive chores.

Mara couldn’t stop a smile. Well, she was older than Gavin, by a few minutes. Technically, he was her baby brother.

Laroi said, “I cannot. Even if I traveled at a pace that would harm Joso, I could not reach all of your clans before next fall.”

“Assuming I can counter or remove the spell, what will happen when I do?” Torg asked. Laroi blinked in surprise, and said, “I’m not certain.” She admitted. “I hope Joso will release the magic he is holding and its energy will become available to everyone again. Then Joso should recover.”

“But the shock could cause him to release it without control and we have the explosion the spell currently prevents.” Torg pointed out. Laroi sighed.

She said, “Yes. I understand if you are not willing to risk it.”

“Of course I am. I wish to know why you are. Your seniors hope to profit by this spell. That should benefit your people. Why are you willing to act against them?”

Laroi stared at him, speechless with horror that he thought she would consider not helping Joso. She gave a small shudder and said only, “Follow me, please. “ She got up from the table, leaving the last bits of her meal uneaten. Her invitation had been to Torg, and the others remained, reluctantly, seated, but Mara’s curiosity was too strong and she followed, relieved when Laroi did not object. They reached Laroi’s room and she opened the door and ushered them inside.

It was a well-appointed room, with a couch and several chairs covered in plush cushions surrounding a low table. A fire had been laid in the hearth and it was warm enough that if they were going to stay for any length of time, Mara would become uncomfortable.

She didn’t have to worry about the heat for long. One look at the dark furred primate asleep on the couch inspired a different and more unpleasant kind of discomfort.

 Joso was covered with a woolen blanket. Despite the cover, Mara could tell he was not well. Beneath the fur, he was far too thin. His skin, where not covered with fur, was black, and did not show pallor, but there were bald patches on his neck beneath a dull white torque that appeared to be made of bone. When he woke at their entry, his eyes were cloudy.

“If you had spent the past five years responsible for his care, responsible for gaining his trust and friendship, would you leave him like that? Could you?” Laroi demanded.

Torg looked distinctly unwell as he said, “I would not leave one of your clerics in such a state, never mind a child of the forest. Will he allow me to sit near him?”

“Yes.” She went to Joso,  and switched from trade tongue to her own language. She spoke  quietly for a moment and Joso chittered back and closed his eyes again.

Torg turned to Mara and said, “There is nothing you can do here. I must study the spell’s structure. Would you ask Gavin to join me and bring my pack?”

Mara nodded and did as he asked. Karn helped Gavin with the stairs and Mara took a seat before the common room’s fire and tried to forget the pitiful figure she’d seen.

“Torg got his answer, I take it.” Shae gave Mara’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze.

“Yes. They’re in Laroi’s room.” She turned away, plainly not interested in explaining further, so Shae changed the subject.

“All right. I looked at the treaty they gave Laroi. It’s plain robbery. In exchange for the return of magic, we become vassals of her House; owing an exorbitant  yearly tribute and compelled to help defend against anyone who offers violence. Most of the Clan Elders I’ve met would have laughed her out of their territory, if they didn’t kill her and send her head back to her own people first.”

“You think she knows that?”

“Unless she’s a lackwit. She’s made some powerful enemies back home, that’s for certain.”

Jag had gone out to check on the horses, but Karn had returned and sat with Sheki nearby. Karn was sharpening his knife. Sheki was repairing a weak spot on her horse’s bridle. Both were listening to Shae’s words.

“Let’s hope Torg can accomplish something.” Mara said, and quiet settled over their group.

###

“It’s like a huge collection of ropes holding back the tree that is about to fall on you.” Gavin muttered. “If you untie them in the right way, you lower the tree safely. If not, it squashes you like a bug. You can’t just cut them away, but untying them without letting the tree fall is going to take forever.”

“And don’t forget the venomous snake that looks like a piece of rope hiding within the mess.” Torg added. “We certainly won’t be bored.” He leaned forward, held one hand over the back of Joso’s neck, and began his study of the spell. A moment later, Gavin joined him.

It was past midnight when Torg leaned back and stretched. He rubbed his face briskly with both hands and finished off the cup of tea Laroi had left for him.

Gavin slouched in the other chair, napping. He’d spent the afternoon creating safe draining conduits for the magic’s power in case Torg failed in his efforts to find a counter spell. Until Torg had a plan, there was nothing more for Gavin to do.

Laroi had fallen asleep with Joso’s head in her lap. Now she woke and met his gaze with inquiry.

“I can do it, but Joso will not enjoy the process.” Torg said.

“Why?” She asked.

“When I break the spell some of the energy will feed back to him. Gavin will be able to deflect some of it, but not all. It will hurt. A lot. Can you keep him from attacking me when it does?”

“Yes.” She spoke with unnerving confidence.

“As weak as he is, he may not survive my efforts. Are you sure you want me to try?”

“Better that than continue to suffer as he is. If you can break the spell, please, do.” Now her tone held only ironclad resolve that told Torg she would try and break the spell if he did not. She was as utterly committed to ending Joso’s suffering as the spell’s casters had been to inflicting it.

Yes, She understands those who cast this spell. She knows they will probably not honor their promise to free Joso, even if he does survive the journey. She knows she is not likely to survive either, but is determined that Joso will suffer not more than is absolutely necessary.

Torg nodded and reached over to jostle Gavin’s shoulder. “Time to go back to work lad.”

###

Gavin rubbed his eyes and sat up. He said, “What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to try and let the tree down slowly.”

They set to work. The spell was hideously complex and held several clever traps. Laroi sat next to Joso, immersed in her own form of trance, holding one of the familiar’s  hands. Gavin took the energy Torg fed him and sent it down the drainage conduits he’d established. Torg reached the last ‘knot’ as dawn broke. “This is it.” He told Laroi. “You ready?” She nodded and said, “I will be working a spell to calm Joso, do not be alarmed.” She gave Joso’s hand a brief squeeze and took a deep breath.

Torg began working at the magical ‘knot’ and Laroi began her spell. Gavin didn’t have much attention to spare for what she was doing, he was too busy monitoring the flow of energy. So he was unprepared when the energy backlash hit Laroi, and not Joso.

Joso chittered frantically as the energy writhed over Laroi and was transmuted by her spell into something that flowed from her to Joso, healing him and causing the white torque to crack and fall off in two pieces.

Torg leaned forward and took her hands, concern blossoming across his expression.

“That was foolish.” He said quietly as Laroi panted with pain and exhaustion. If you were able to break the spell, why did you ask me to?”

“I would not have been able to heal Joso. He would have died. You have helped me pay a debt. I am grateful.”

“What debt ?” Gavin asked, watching with horrified confusion as her spell devoured the last of the back lash and began consuming her personal energy. If it continued to do so, she would not live much longer. He tried to pull energy for her, but the magical field was in chaos. It was like trying to hold the wind with your bare hands.

“What could he have done that demands you risk your life?”

“He stayed with me, even when he found out what the seniors planned for him. I told him to go, but he stayed. Now, he’ll be able to go. Help him go home. Please.”

She took a last shuddering breath and departed.  Joso uttered a long, keening wail, touched her forehead briefly, and left the couch to go to the fireplace and begin damping the fire.

Torg got to his feet as well and said, I’m going to alert the innkeeper and the authorities. Are you alright staying here? Or do you want to rejoin the others?”

“She was supposed to be a monster.” Gavin muttered. “They’re monsters. Caring people don’t curse unborn children.”

“And monsters don’t sacrifice themselves for others.” Torg agreed sympathetically. “She didn’t curse your mother. She’s not a monster. Do you want to grant her request? Shall we take Joso to his home?”

Gavin nodded, but remained immersed in the question that haunted him. Who am I supposed to hate now?

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(please do not remove writer credits)