We ate heartily from the roasted meat we were served and then slept well by the fire of the other tribe that night. Mhorik and I sat out early in the morning before most of the tribe was awake to avoid any other sudden requests from the elder.

By midday we were within sight of the restless deep, and were almost back on our original path. Something about the sea invigorated us, and we kept up a faster pace than we had the previous days of our trip. Things were going well over the next few days until we met the far river flowing into the sea and saw the bridge had been washed away by the rushing torrent of the river. Mhorik grumbled and explained that we would have to hike up the river to find a place to ford across.

That night I felt bold and tried to stir up some discussion to take Mhorik’s mind off the detour. “What was it like when you first touched magic?”

Mhorik blinked and looked away from the small fire he had been concentrating on to build it up. “Huh? Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking about when Moonwind asked about you taking me as an apprentice. It sounds like most apprentices are detected before they do something… something like I did.”

Mhorik frowned and look back at the fire. “I don’t know if that’s the case.”

“Did your master find your power before you tried to control magic?”

“Not exactly. As has been said, males usually don’t control magic well. The first few times I tried, our Wizard told me to stop almost scolding me. It was only after none of the females showed any ability that she agreed to help me harness my ability.”

“So you didn’t lose control like I did?”

“Dorua, you shouldn’t focus so much on that one event. I know you remember the horror of what happened, but you learned the most important lesson about magic that night: it is not a thing that is easily controlled. It is chaotic.”

“But…”

“I mean it. Some wizards never learn this lesson, and they don’t just hurt others, they destroy themselves.”

I sat in silence for a while, the words hanging over us. Mhorik finally broke the quiet, “There is no ‘normal’ way for people to discover their control of magic. We just do and we hope for the best.”

I murmured something in agreement and turned in for the night.

We continued on for the next few days. Mhorik resumed the magic lessons and I eagerly learned what I could. The lessons meant a lot more to me as I could practice them freely and try out new things.

We settled down one night, resting a moment to catch our breath before setting up camp, when Mhorik said, “I hated magic when I first learned of it.”

“What?” I said, surprised by this admission.

“I hated it. It made me different than all the other children. I didn’t want to be different.”

I sat, barely even breathing, not knowing exactly what to say.

“But, I accepted it. I learned the lessons and I can shape magic. That is what my early experience was like.”

“Oh,” I said, realizing how stupid it sounded only after I uttered the word. After what seemed to be an eternity of silence, I dropped off my equipment and went to gather some wood for the night’s fire.

I brought back the kindling and pieces of wood. I set them up in the stones that Mhorik had set up and tried to gather the magic to light the fire, but nothing happened. Frustrated, I reached out to the surrounding area and found no magic around.

“Mhorik. There’s no magic here.”

Mhorik looked around tried to reach out himself, and couldn’t find anything either. “I didn’t think we were that close to the sacred place of the forest. Be on your best behavior.”

Posted in Humans, Second Age, Stories

After the fight, I was a bit shaken up. But as the air cleared, I couldn’t help but laugh. I don’t know what came over me, but Mhorik looked at me with puzzlement. I just looked at him and couldn’t stop laughing. I took a big, loud gasp of breath and that got Mhorik to laughing, too. We fell to the ground, holding our sides as we laughed and laughed for what seemed like a very long time until we both sat there, panting for breath. Later he explained that laughing was a common reaction after times of extreme danger, and I’ve found that to be true many times since then.

With the questions in my mind put to rest for a time, we continued on. Mhorik and I talked at length about magic. He gave me a few more lessons, and I kept practicing them during our walk. I even started to use the energy rune carved into my arm so long ago, finally understanding what it meant after seeing Mhorik’s lightning display. The days flew by as we traveled along, and I settled into a rhythm. I didn’t notice the aches and pains so much any more, and event started sleeping as easily under the stars as I did back home in my hut.

We had stopped to gather up some more fresh water when a stranger stepped out. He had a spear in his hand, but didn’t carry it threateningly. The spearhead glittered in the sunlight, made of pure shaped flint. The figure said something that didn’t sound quite right to my ears, and Mhorik said something back.

“What’s going on?”

Mhorik gave me a quick look and went back to talking. The conversation got animated, with the stranger waving his spear around not exactly in a threatening manner, but not entirely friendly, either. He pointed to the distance and waved to follow him.

We walked for a while before I spoke up again. “What is this, Master?”

“This person is from a wandering tribe. Their wizard has left, probably to the convocation, and he says the elder has a problem that only a wizard can handle. He was very insistent that we come along with him.”

“His words don’t sound right.”

“He speaks a different tongue than we do. Related, but not quite the same.”

“You mean, he speaks like a kobold?” I said with a grin. The green skins were known for their gibbering and grunting that seemed to be their language.

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” Mhorik said, giving me a scolding look. “I speak the language, just be on good behavior.”

We walked away from the sea that had been our constant companion since we had left the village. We went around a couple of hills and saw a small group of tents with a large fire burning in the middle. Spears were planted in the ground around the encampment, and several people were busy with daily life as we entered.

Now that I knew what to listen for, I could almost understand the language. Our guide said a few words that sounded like “old father in sleeping skin” and pointed to the large tent. Mhorik beckoned me toward him and walked to the entrance.

The inside was dark, hot, and smelly. The elder was an ancient man, covered in tattered furs in the corner. He blinked at the light streaming in from the flap and yelled something obviously unkind.

“Hunter talked old father has thorns,” It sounded like Mhorik said, speaking the other language.

“I have dry wizard smell,” the old man mumbled.

“No smell. What thorns when no smell?” Mhorik responded.

“White stones are hurt thorn, must be wizard smell!” The old man nearly shouted with his hoarse voice.

Turning from the old man and looking at me, Mhorik whispered, “Get out the numbing bark you packed,” then turned and yelled something out the door i didn’t hear. I unpacked a lot of items and found the long pieces of bark we sometimes hold against wounds when casting a numbing spell.

Mhorik took his ritual knife from its sheathe and sliced off a few pieces. A woman came in with a bowl of very hot water and put it down near Mhorik. He dropped the pieces of bark into the water. Mhorik gave me a warning look and I sat silently.

A low chant came from Mhorik’s lips, but he was saying nonsense. It didn’t even sound like the strange language this tribe spoke. He weaved a small amount of magic, summoning a few glowing motes of fire and let them burn out. Continuing for a while longer, the brew cooled down and Mhorik picked it, gave it to the elder, and mimicked drinking it. The old man looked at the bowl, then tipped it back gently and slurped up the water and left the piece of bark. Mhorik pointed to the bark and mimicked a chewing motion. With obvious hesitation, the old man finally did as instructed.

“Stay food and see when I eat,” the old man said as he waved us away. Mhorik got up and I followed.

“What was that about smells?” I asked when we were away from the tent.

“He thinks he was cursed by a wizard. He wanted me to remove the curse.”

“Was he?”

“No, he just had an ache in his mouth. The numbing bark should make him feel better. But, he doesn’t want us to leave until he can eat tonight. So, get comfortable.”

We found a place near the fire to sit and we watched the tribe wind down for the night. A large slab of meat had been placed near the fire, and it was cooking to sizzling perfection. After eating the dried food we packed, I was eager for some real food for a change.

When the meat was taken away from the fire, the old man was escorted out of the tent by two younger women. They sat him down and he mumbled something and pointed to the whole tribe. A slice of meat was cut off and served to him in a worn wooden bowl. He picked up the meat, took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.

“White stone fine, wizards can jump again,” it sounded like the demanding elder said.

“That’s our permission to leave?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“But, let’s wait until after we have some of that meat!”

“A wise decision,” Mhorik said, and we waited for bowls to be passed to us.

Posted in Humans, Second Age, Stories

The next day Mhorik spoke up as we were taking a short rest. “There is something I need to tell you.”

“What?” I asked slowly, not sure what was suddenly on his mind.

“Some wizards believe in true names.”

I looked at Mhorik with a puzzled look on my face.

He chuckled and explained, “They say if you know the true name of an item, you can gain control over it.”

“Like, rocks?”

“Something like that. If you knew a rock’s ‘true name’, you could control it easier.”

“That’s silly,” I said, “How could you find out a rock’s name?”

Mhorik shook his head. “They also believe it applies to people.”

“Oh.”

“And some believe that using your true name as a wizard is a sign of weakness.”

“But, you don’t believe it.”

Mhorik turned to me and planted his staff on the ground. “Mhorik is the name given to me by my mother. You know it. Do you think you could cast a spell that I could not deflect?”

“Heh, no,” I chuckled. One time long ago I had cast some magic at Mhorik, but he easily turned it away and it struck me instead. All my hair fell out and wouldn’t grow back for a week.

“Exactly. But, as you will learn, appearances mean a lot to wizards. So, when we meet other wizards, do not use my name. You should call me ‘master’. I will call you my apprentice.”

It seemed odd to me. Mhorik had always just been Mhorik. Now I had to call him a formal title.

“But, we won’t see any wizards for a long time now.”

Mhorik laughed. “We will see another wizard in a few days, actually. A cousin of mine that goes by the name Moonwind.”

Two days later we arrived in another village by the sea. It looked like our village, but the buildings were all in strange places.

The villagers greeted us warmly, but the whole village was abuzz with questions. “Long time, Starwise!” “What news of the world?” “Who is that girl, wizard?” Mhorik answered their questions in a friendly tone as we walked to one of the larger huts in the village. The villagers fell silent as Mhorik rapped on the door with his staff.

A tall, dark woman dressed in luxurious furs opened the door and stepped out. Her eyes blinked in the sunlight and she saw Mhorik. “Cousin!” she said as she hugged him.

“Well met, cousin Moonwind. I’ve come to visit.”

“Come in. Heading to the convocation?”

Mhorik stepped into the hut and motioned me to follow. “Yes. It has been too long since I was last at one, and my apprentice must be presented.”

The wizard turned around and faced me. “Apprentice? Oh, a female! Good for you.”

Mhorik grimaced. I might have seen him roll his eyes.

The two wizards sat and swapped information. Mhorik acted casual, but I could tell he wasn’t completely at ease. Moonwind teased him quite a lot, taking pains to point out that he was a male and praising me for being female. It got tiresome, but I sat quietly and listened.

Later some villagers brought in food and we ate.

“Tell me about yourself, apprentice. How did Starwise find you?”

There was an awkward silence as I chewed and hastily swallowed the large bite I had just taken. “Mh…my master found me after I had tried to control some magic.”

Mhorik shot me a look as he caught my mistake.

“Oh. He didn’t detect your power before it manifested?” Moonwind asked.

I gave Mhorik a questioning look.

“My apprentice didn’t show any signs, and the proper rituals did not indicate anything at the time of her birth.”

“Oh, a shame. Did you light someone on fire, then?”

My face burned as I stammered, not knowing how to respond.

“She did try to control fire, but it didn’t harm anyone,” he covered with a little lie.

The wizard nodded. “You are lucky. You have a very generous master who treats you well,” Moonwind said as she smiled at me.

I mumbled some sort of thanks, not quite knowing how to take that statement. The two talked late into the night, but sleep overtook me not long after the meal and I slept soundly until the next morning. We set out early the next morning, and truth be told, I was glad to be away from that place.

Posted in Humans, Second Age, Stories

We walked along the coast early the next morning. Only a bit of light showed over the mountains in those early hours. I was carrying most of the supplies; they were a little heavier than expected as we took some dried meats and bread, and a few skins of water.

The light grew around us as we trudged on in silence. Some of the morning birds began to sing in response to the sunlight, and that helped put a spring back in my step.

“How many birds are around us?” Mhorik asked, breaking our mutual silence.

“Uh,” I stammered, “I don’t know.”

“How could you figure it out?”

I thought for a while while walking, considering magical and mundane ways to do it. Suddenly, I had an idea.

“A counting spell!” I said, triumphantly.

“Good. Try it, but don’t stop walking.”

I concentrate as I keep going, reaching out with my mind while tracing the scar-rune of counting on my arm and reciting a syllable for birds quietly to myself. I find I can’t sense very far, and can’t precisely detect the nearby birds.

“I can’t reach very far.”

“And why not?”

“Dunno. Harder to concentrate while walking,” I said, with a bit of frustration edging into my voice.

“Remember, the more specific you are, the easier crafting magic is.”

“But, I do not know what types of birds are around.”

“Well, what distinguishes a bird from other things around?”

“Uh, feathers?” I guessed.

“Yes, but how many feathers on each bird?”

“Oh.” Then, I have it, “Beaks!”

“Exactly. Try the spell again, but count beaks.”

I trace the scar-rune again, I reach out my mind while repeating the syllable for beaks, and I find my reach extended.

“Fifteen within sight of us,” I report.

“Good. Now you have learned another trick to help you cast better.”

We continued walking into the evening and Mhorik took time to point out interesting plants and animals from the area that I had not seen before. We talked about magic and he gave me a few more lessons. We set up camp at night and I slept soundly, the fatigue of the constant walking helping. This continued more days.

We were breaking camp on the fifth day after leaving the village when my curiosity got the better of me. “Mhorik?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you… why are you male?” I blurted out, realizing how stupid that sounded only after I had said it.

Mhorik looked at me, then laughed. “You mean, why am I a Wizard, despite being male?”

My cheeks burned hot and I nodded. “You said it’s mostly females who are wizards.”

He finished throwing dirt on the fire and got up. “Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean all wizards are female. Some males show some talent with magic. Just few of them become wizards of a village.”

“So, why are you a wizard of our village?”

“Simple enough reason. No females my age showed any sign of power. Usually that’s a very dire sign for a village, as being without a wizard means not having access to magic. So, the previous wizard trained me as her apprentice. I wouldn’t say she hated me, but I think she was not as happy with me as she would have been with a female apprentice. I was the last wizard in the village.”

We walked on a bit in silence. “But, you are a powerful wizard, Mhorik!”

“Well, I’m a capable wizard. But, there are others that are more powerful. You’ll meet some of them.”

“Do the other wizards accept you?”

“Some do, some don’t. Some think it’s a mockery that a male should be treated as a wizard, or that males cannot control magic as well as females can. Many do give me the respect due to a wizard, though.”

I felt that he wasn’t telling me everything, but I let the topic drop.

“A few more days and we should be to the next village,” Mhorik said, and we continued walking.

Posted in Humans, Second Age, Stories

The two weeks passed quickly. Mhorik had me learning a new ritual to cast before we left. He said it was to protect the village while we were gone so that no evil magics could take effect without us around. It was long and involved, and even after getting everything packed I still had to take the time to memorize my part of the ritual.

The whole village was there that last night to give us a grand farewell. The fire was stoked high after the ritual, and had to be kept burning while we were gone. A villager would be assigned to tend the fire every night, and many villagers would need to go gather more firewood. Mhorik and I invested part of our power into the fire, a tiny bit of ourselves left behind to protect against magical danger. The villagers used the fire to cook the last meal we would share together before the trip.

Still, the villagers worried. “Is there no way to delay this, Mhorik?” “You are growing old, wizard, you should not go.” “What if an evil wizard douses the fire and enslaves us?” The questions became more and more worried sounding, fear feeding upon fear.

At last, Mhorik stood up and pounded his staff against the ground. Using a little bit of power, he amplified the sound to give it weight and draw all attention to him. “My friends!” he shouted, “My friends, I hear your worries. And, I share them. But, it is necessary for me to go. Young Dorua must be presented to the other wizards of the convocation. I must go to talk with my peers and find news of what goes on beyond our village.

“Remember the stories of the walking dead: how the slain did not rest and moved to send others to the darkness. I go to find if a threat like that challenges us in these times. If we are fortunate, there will be no news. But, if some danger prowls the land, I need to find out from the other wizards what we must do.

“The fire ritual has given everyone our protection. No, I will not be here to ward against wild animals or natural curses, but any evil magics cast at the village will fail. As for the other threats, our warriors are strong, brave, and proud. They will be able to fight off attackers or animals while we are gone.

“Do not fret, my friends. Look to the sun being swallowed by the sea as we speak. Does the sun abandon you forever? No. Every morning the sun jumps out from behind the moutains and brings the light and life back to the lands. We, too, are not abandoning you. Yes, you must endure a bit of night, but we will still come back from over the mountains.”

We all sat in awe after his speech. Most people sat in awe of his inspiring words and the courage he lent them. I sat in awe of the way he masterfully wove magic into his words to give them power. There was murmuring in the crowd, and finally someone shouted, “Go, Mhorik, and bring light and life when you return.”

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. Our friends came up and wished us well, gave us small gifts to take with us to bring some comfort on the road. Sama brought me some dried leaves to make into a soothing tea she knows I like. I hugged her and thanked her for her gift. I was a bit disappointed when Balar was not with her, though.

Finally, we set off to the hut. The first villager sat near the fire while two others slept nearby. Mhorik went on ahead while I took a stroll around the village one last time. I traced steps I had gone so many times before, but they felt more vital to me knowing that I wouldn’t see them for many months.

“Dorua,” the voice started me as I was lost in my reverie. I looked up to see Balar step out onto the path.

“Balar,” I said, trying not to show how spooked I had been. “What are you…”

He stepped forward and put his arms around me. My inpulse was to step back, but I fought against it and stood where I was. He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Come back safe,” he whispered into my ear.

I put my arms around him and held him close to me. We stood there in the moonlight in silence. Finally, we broke apart and left our separate ways without saying a word. I practically floated back to the hut, and it took me a long time to finally settle down to sleep.

That night my sleep was filled with strange dreams. Rocks that talked, animals that followed us in the distance, trees that blocked our path I didn’t know what it it all meant, except that I was tired that morning as we set off. But, I trudged on down the path with Mhorik, looking forward the adventure but looking forward even more to the time I would return.

Posted in Humans, Second Age, Stories

I had two weeks to get ready. I spent the first day after the rebirth festival just running around trying to think of what I wanted to take.

“What are you doing?” Mhorik asked when he saw me carring a pile of clothing around.

“I need to prepare for the trip!”

“And take all that?”

“I’ll need fresh clothes,” I started.

“You can barely carry those. You still need to carry some food, camp gear, and ritual items. A very long distance.”

I sat down, exasperated. “All that?”

“Let’s go take a look at what we need to pack.”

We went into the sacred hut and a few hours later we had worked out a list of supplies we should take along. Mhorik left me a lone to pack whatever ritual items I thought would be important. Looking through all the items in the sacred hut, I felt like I was trying to create order from raw chaos. What was important to take?

In the end I packed herbs for protection and healing, a fire twig to focus energy into making a small fire, some stones to bring luck in hunting and foraging, an amulet of power, some divination bones, and a ritual knife. I packed them in a lightened carrying basket and set them aside for now.

Evening was approaching so I went outside to get some food. A stew was steaming in a large cauldron over the fire, and I got a bowl. The meat was a bit tough, the last of the stores from the long, cold season, but it still tasted good. Sitting on the ground in the last of the sun, a few friends came over and sat down beside me.

“Where have you been?” my best friend Sama teased. “In studying magic all day? It was so beautiful out!”

I smiled and shruged. “Busy,” I said simply. I was too busy glancing at Sama’s brother, Balar. Every time he’d look up, my eyes would dart back to my own food and I’d take a small bite.

“Dorua!” Sama yelled, grabbing my attention.

“What?”

“What were you doing all day?”

“Mhorik is taking me to the convocation.” As I said that, I noticed Balar suddenly look up at me.

“Really?” Sama gasped. “When?”

“Two weeks. I was packing some supplies.” Balar’s eyes dropped and he stared at his food, concentrating on eating.

“Wow. So exciting! How far away is the convocation?”

I shrugged. Glancing at Balar, but he didn’t look back up. “Far away, I guess.”

Sama laughed. She saw some of the other girls and waved them over. “Dorua’s going to the convocation!”

The other girls surrounded me, pelting me with questions. Balar looked uncomfortable and eventually got up and went on his way. I talked to the girls, but I really didn’t know the answers to the questions they asked. It felt weird to talk to them for so long, usually the ignore me since I spend so much time studying magic with Mhorik.

Night fell and I said my goodbyes, giving some excuse about having to study more magic that night. I walked around in the cool night air looking for Balar, but didn’t see him. I sighed and walked back home. Why did he act that way? Was he jealous of me heading on a trip?

I got back to the hut and tried to go to sleep. But, the excitement of the trip and my questions about Balar kept me awake. Morning seemed to come a bit too early.

Posted in Humans, Second Age, Stories

I nearly fell through the doorway into the sacred hut and collapsed onto the fur rug. Sweat had soaked the inner robes of the ceremonial garb despite the cool breeze that night, and I struggled to get out of the confining, heavy clothing. I let the pieces slip to the ground as I closed my eyes and breathed the cool air in deeply.

A moment later, the knock of a staff against the frame of the building brought me out of my stupor. It could only be Mhorik daring to want to enter the hut after the rebirth festival, and he would be sorely disappointed if he saw the ceremonial clothing scattered on the ground. I got up with a grunt of effort, pulled up the clothes and hastily placed them on the pegs on the posts. I wrapped a sheet around myself and fell back down on the rug

“C’min,” I mumbled. The entry cloth was pushed aside and Mhorik came in.

“A wonderful ritual, Dorua,” he said as he smiled. “The tree tenders said they have high hopes for the season’s blossoms after that performance.”

I looked up through half-closed eyes. “Drained, tired,” I manage to form the words.

He looked down at me and frowned. “You pushed yourself too hard. Rest, my girl, and we’ll talk a bit later.”

I nodded, slumped down, and fell asleep almost immediately on the rug.

***

I awoke sometime later, wondering how long I had slept. I caught the scent of burning herbs, probably placed on the fire by Mhorik. The pungent smoke made the scar runes on my arm itch as it always did. I thought about tracing the flame rune to calm the fire, but decided that wasn’t a good idea when I’m still groggy.

I stood up with the sheet still clinging to me. Clearing my head, I heard the festival still going on outside. Guess I didn’t sleep that long….

Stumbling outside, I saw everyone from the village around. Some were drinking the last of the burning ice drink. Others were feasting upon the remaining scraps left from the giant hunk of meat that was roasted over the fire all night. One was dancing around wildly, letting the energy of the festival that I unleashed overtake him. Another couple were using the energy in the traditional way, hoping to be blessed with a child that year. A few others noticed me and waved, but gave me space. They feared me like they didn’t fear Mhorik, because I’m a girl.

I found the old wizard sitting just outside the range of the firelight. I might not have seen him but the light of the large moon was shining off his pale hair. He had grown so old in the years since he first took me as an assistant. He tried to deny it, but the white hair on his head told the truth where he wouldn’t.

He murmured a welcome as I sat down next to him. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that he was looking up. Using the end of his staff, he was measuring something.

“Where is the Wizard at?” he asked suddenly, turning his gaze to me. I looked up and found the familiar cluster of stars that form the end of the staff as quickly as I can. Followed it down to the base and over. “Near where the sun rises,” I half guessed.

“Right. So, it is time.”

“For what?”

“For the convocation I’ve told you about, Dorua. This year I feel I must go. And, you will go with me.”

The news shocked me. To the convocation? The meeting of the wizards?

“Wh… when?” I stammered out.

“In two weeks. Get some supplies together tomorrow. It will be along trek.”

With that, Mhorik got up and walked off toward the sacred hut. I sat in the gloom for a moment, my mind racing around and around at the news, before physical fatigue hit me and I went off to go to bed.

Posted in Humans, Second Age, Stories