Chapter 11

Family Descent

Book One �" Divergence

Part I �" Novices

Chapter 11

June 1657

 

            “Bah! Don’t memorize the words.” Elistan said for perhaps the thousandth time over the past several months. “The words mean nothing. It is the sound. You know this.” Korrie sighed as he stood within the center of the room that Elistan used for his instruction. On the topmost floor of his residence was the room. Five floors lay one atop the other each connected by a stairway of branches that spiraled up the main trunk of the tree.

            “When you were but a babe and learned to speak it was by sound not by word,” Elistan continued. “It is the same, but even more important in the casting of spells. The words do not command or beseech the elements but, rather, it is the sound that directs the weave and bends the flow of the magic into the shape we desire. It is an art; like painting or sculpting.”

            “I know, wesla, I know.” Korrie said using the Elasarin word for master or teacher.

            “So you have told me.” Elastin replied. Korrie remained standing within a circle Elistan had drawn out on the floor in powdered obsidian. A rune was likewise drawn out at each of the four cardinal points; north, south, east and west. Elistan sat near one wall in a simple wood chair; in each of the room’s four corners was a small brazier in which sandlewood incense slowly released its essence into the air. Elastin ran a finger along fine lips as he thought.

            “Consider this,” he said at last, “a cantor leads and the choir follows; the cantor sings his line and the choir answers, following the where the cantor leads.” Elistan raised his finger and pointed at Korrie. “You, the mage, are the cantor and the aethêric energy is the choir. You lay out the course the energy will follow; setting the flow and defining the path and giving direction through sound and movement.”

            Elistan rose from the chair and paced back and forth along the wall. Then he stopped and turned once again to Korrie. He half hummed out the sound of a long n, “nnnnn is the sound of the element of light,” he said. Then, “aaall, is the sound of concentration and daaaa is the sound of distance; the longer the sound is held, the further the distance.”  Korrie nodded and then Elistan put one hand forward, palm up. “Nnn-aall-da,” he sounded and hovering just above his hand a small sphere of light coalesced. “Light, concentrate a short distance from the point indicated by my hand; that is the path I laid out for the aethêric energy.” Elastin explained then he sounded “Nnn-da-llaa” and the light vanished. “Light a short distance from the point indicated by my hand, disperse,” he explained.

            “I believe I understand, wesla.” Korrie said with comprehension dawning in his eyes. “But why then are the simpler spells seemingly more forgiving in the sounding of the sounds?” He asked.

            “Because they are simpler,” was the teacher’s quick answer. “Nearly any individual can take up a bow and send a bolt to strike the wall of a barn,” he explained. “However,” he went on, “to strike a bull in the eye from a distance requires more finesse, more skill, more precision.” Korrie nodded again.

            “I understand,” he said nodding his head.

            “Good. Show me.” Elistan said and returned to his chair.

            “Show me,” repeated the voice Korrie heard only in his head and who was becoming an ever persistent presence in his life. Korrie suppressed a shudder at the sensation of hunger that accompanied the voice. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the spell he was about to cast, the most powerful he had yet attempted.

 

            Korrie withdrew from a small leather pouch at his side a tiny lump of red colored rock. He brought his hands in front of him, palms together, fingers pointed to the sky and he held the small stone between them. Closing his eyes he began intone the sounds of the spell. “Nnnnnflaaa,” as the word sound passed his lips, he felt sudden warmth between his hands and he moved them apart, the stone now gone. He straightened his arms before him; his palms facing the floor.

            “Daaa-gle-daaa,” he spread his hands apart describing a line on the ground in front of him, “mual.”

            Korrie’s eyes snapped open as a wall of purplish flames erupted from the described line and rose six feet into the air between himself and Elastin. He turned his still outstretched hands so his palms faced upward as though sustaining the flames with his will.

            “Well done, Korrie,” Elastin said with a smile turning up the corners of his mouth, but Korrie did not respond, did not hear, for the Voice in his head was louder still.

            “Muati. More” urged the Voice. Elastin’s smile turned to a frown as he saw the distant look in Korrie’s eyes through the haze of violet fire.

            “Well enough, Korrie, dismiss the flame” Elastin instructed him. He moved around the circle so he could see the young mage more clearly and saw the beads of perspiration on his forehead. The spell only cast heat outward so heat was not the cause.

            “Muati. More. More” said the Voice in Korrie’s head and he softly repeated the sound word which would intensify the spell’s effect. “Muati.”

            Elastin’s eyes widened in shock as he heard the whispered sound word and the flames responded the color darkening as more aethêric energy was drawn into the spell.

            “Korrie, enough,” Elastin demanded. But the Voice continued to demand more.

            “Nnnnflaaa-ahl-muat,” Korrie said louder then before and Elastin took a step back as the ends of the fiery line flew out and the joined to become a circle of flame around his apprentice.

            Korrie felt the sweat now running down his sides beneath the linen tunic he wore, he felt its traces down the sides of his face and along his neck. He faintly heard the instructions and then commands of his wesla, but the Voice was stronger still and he found that he wanted to comply with the Voice. When it urged for more still, he did not deny it.

            “Muati” he said again and raised his arms over his head.

            “Korrie!” Elastin shouted for so intense was the flame now that he could but barely see Korrie within. Sparks and tiny lighting like flashes danced around the perimeter of the fire circle as Elastin’s warding circle strained to absorb and contain the terrible heat being thrown at it from within.

            “Yes, yes,” whispered the Voice with savage glee. Elastin stepped back again as heat began to force its way through his warding barrier. He watched as the powdered volcanic glass that he use to describe the circle began to liquefy. He slipped a hand into a velvet pouch depending from his belt and withdrew a solid piece of obsidian. He blanked his mind and sought out the aethêric weave of his warding circle.

            “Mmmmmuati!” he shouted and hurled the black glass stone at his warding circle. “Ahl-daaaa-daaa-daa” he intoned as he shaped his hands as though he held a sphere and began bringing them together. The warding circle responded; its circumference shrinking and its strength intensifying.

            A dozen different options flashed through the archmage’s mind as the contemplated a course of action. Finally, he took a deep breath and began enacting a powerful enchantment. The words flowed from his lips, meaningless syllables on their own and his arms, hands and fingers danced as sound and gesture gathered and wove all free aethêric energy nearby into a barrier surrounding himself that would negate all magic and magical effects within its bounds. Although invisible to normal sight, the barrier extended a full five feet from five feet from the mage in every direction.

Elastin would have to move fast, for his own warding circle would fail once the barrier came into contact with it. Fortunately, Elistan was an elf and although he had walked the world for more than three millennia, he was still quite nimble. Whispering a quick prayer to Ukko, Ilmatar, Mielikki and a half dozen other gods and goddesses, Elastin sprang forward; through his warding circle he dashed and he felt the circle fall, through Korrie’s ring fire and he felt it collapse and then he threw his arms around Korrie.

Elastin held firm to Korrie for a full minute as the heat of the magical flames dissipated. He chanced a quick look around and saw the floor, part of the roof and several pieces of furniture smoldering. He looked back at Korrie and the young man’s eyes were feverish.

Korrie had felt the power of the spell flowing through him and around him. He felt pure ecstasy although he could not tell if it was his own or the Voice’s; perhaps both. He trembled, but the aethêric flow was growing beyond his control, still he urged it on as the Voice urged him on.

He felt when Elastin had strengthened his warding circle and he felt the faint pressure as its circumference shrank. Then it stopped but still his fire raged. “Yes, yes. The power is your’s” said the Voice.

Then Korrie felt a shattering. His thoughts and concentration faltered as he felt Elastin’s warding circle collapse. The felt his whole being swell, for just a moment, as his spell was freed from the confines of the shielding ward. Then, his spell was quenched and the sudden cessation came as a whelming blow. All his thoughts shattered and the Voice silenced. He felt arms around him but did not know to whom they belonged.

A lancing pain shot through his head; a pain like he has never experienced before. He fell free of the supporting arms and landed on his knees. He presses his hands to his head trying to force away the pain. He cried out a wordless scream of torment. His eyes rolled back and Elastin could only see the white as he dropped to his knees beside his student.

Korrie lost consciousness and Elastin managed to lay hold of him before he toppled to the floor. The Archmage carefully lifted up his charge; no small feat for Korrie weighed some fifty pounds more than he did. He carried Korrie beyond the cooling glass remnants of the warding circle which crackled and popped as it did so cool.

With great care, and with the agile grace of the elven folk, Elastin carried Korrie down the spiral branch stair to the room below where he laid the young man on a soft divan in the drawing room.

 

A short while later Korrie lay still unconscious on the cot in his room of Estarin’s home. The argent light of the silver moon, Silna, slanted through the window of the room. Elastin stood near the center of the room and with him were two elven healers; Galuun and Feala.

“His breathing remains shallow and he burns with fever,” said Galuun whose sharply canted emerald eyes were hooded with concern. In his hand he held a blue-dyed leather satchel.

“Is his life threatened?” Elastin asked his eyes darting between the healers.

“We do not believe so.” Feala answered. “Though we cannot be certain.” She added. Her blue grey gaze shifted the prone form in the bed.

“Shalhanna said that he was unconscious for three days when last the Syndrome whelmed him some months back.” Elastin explained and the two healers nodded.

“After his arrival and you communicated your knowledge of his condition we did correspond with Shalhanna to discover if there was aught we should know, and she said as much,” Replied Feala.

“Too, we have contacted several respected healers; human and elven alike, to learn as much as possible of the Rhadham Syndrome” Galuun continued. “For, as you may know, it is most common among humans and there is no verifiable evidence of a case among the Shaern.” Elistan nodded.

“Even among humans it is rare and young Korrie’s case is different.” Feala added.

“How so?” asked Elistan. Garuun’s voice took on the tone of a teacher.

“All of the offspring the Imiriss has sired since he developed the syndrome have apparently inherited the affliction to some degree,” the healer said. “Yet, there is no record that the illness is transmitted from parent to child.

It has ever been known as a malady that afflicts spell-casters only and is thought to be a side effect of that casting.”

“Somewhat like an allergy to the aethêric energies,” interjected Feala and Galuun nodded and continued.

“The Imirisses’ two middle children also seem to suffer occasional, milder episodes and neither is particularly proficient or interested in the art.

Feala will stay here tonight to monitor his condition.” Feala nodded and Elastin thanked them.

 

Seven days later a worried Elastin was relived to find Korrie awake one more. Galuun, who had been attending the youth, came to Elistan’s study to relay the news.

“Ah, thank the gods,” Elistan said. “How does he fare?”

“Well enough,” answered the healer. “Weak, still tired, but hungry. Feed him, let him rest and brew a tea with this and have him drink it twice a day, it will help him regain his strength.” Galuun handed several paper packets to the Archmage who nodded.

“Is there aught else?” Elistan asked the healer who frowned slightly and nodded.

“Feala and I have discussed this at length. Although I suspect it will not sit well with your student, we advise you prohibit him from casting for at least two moons.” Elistan’s frown matched that of the healer.

“You judge correctly, Galuun, it will not sit well.”

“Nevertheless, it does appear the casting is what brought on the episode and if another episode occurs anytime soon…” The healer let the sentence trail off and raised his hands to his side.

“I understand,” Elastin sighed, “I will follow your advice.