Dark shores of salvation, p.73
Dark Shores of Salvation, page 73
part #3 of Travails of the Dark Mage Series
Flecks of green and blue started sparking within the silvery haze, prompting him to halt his progress.
Then in an instant, an unseen force pulled at him, drawing him toward the silvery haze. Barely able to keep his feet, he fought the pull. A moment later, the pull toward the haze stopped, then an even greater force surged outward from it, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling across the ground.
Scrambling back to his feet, he barely got his balance again before a blue-green fireball exploded. The resulting heat wave hit him with sufficient force to knock him back to the ground.
Fires broke out throughout an area sixty feet in diameter around the blast’s epicenter.
Getting back to his feet once again, he found the silvery cloud was gone.
He watched in silence for a minute, then two. The initial fires died out fast when the grass was consumed, with a few still burning among larger clumps around the blast perimeter. When nothing further developed, curiosity got the better of him and he slowly made his way to where it had been.
It had rained in this area the day before so there was no threat of the fires getting out of control. Though many had gone out, there were still sufficient light for him to see that there was something in the middle of the blast area. As he drew near the edge of the burnt area, could see it was a man.
The man looked dead. How could anything have survived the explosion that he had witnessed?
Then the man’s arm moved.
He was alive!
Rushing forward, he knelt next to him.
Dark hair showed signs of being singed, but not a great deal.
He had thought the man would have been severely burnt.
Clothes were intact if a bit worn; singed as well but not greatly.
“Are you okay?” Stewart asked.
The man groaned.
Placing his hand on the man’s forehead, he found it hot to the touch. Pulling his hand away, found his fingers had blood on them.
“Hey!” he yelled, gently slapping the man’s face.
The man’s eyes didn’t move.
“How did you get here?” he mused to himself.
Something about the whole situation did not feel right. A man just does not appear from a ball of blue-green fire. He’d never seen him before, and that said a lot in and of itself.
He contemplated the morality of leaving him and making for home with all speed. But that was not how he had been raised. You help someone in need, if you can. And he could.
Picking him up, he carried the unconscious man back to his campsite.
He needed medical assistance, that much was plain. Blood still dripped from a wound just above his forehead beneath the hairline.
So much for a relaxing evening before a morning departure.
He laid the man near his campfire, then went to his wagon and re-arranged his cargo. Once a suitable area had been created wherein the man could lay, he spread out his bedroll then laid the man atop it.
Tired, but knowing this was the right course of action, he collected the horses and put them back in their traces.
Climbing back onto the buckboard, he glanced at the unconscious man lying nestled among the casks and sacks. Then turned his gaze to the few small fires still burning out in the plains.
“Going to be a long night,” he groaned.
He flicked the reins and as the wagon began to roll, he sighed, then grinned.
“Bring back something different and a story to tell,” his grandfather had said before he left.
Well, if this didn’t satisfy that request, nothing else ever would.
A little over eight hours to home. Then, maybe the mystery behind this man could be unraveled.
Story to continue in
As yet untitled
Book Four of
Travail of the Dark Mage
Coming Soon
See a preview of book 4 after the Q & A
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Q & A
Readers have asked me questions about The Morcyth Saga and Travail of The Dark Mage over the years that I have never really addressed. Here are a few answers:
Warning!!!
If you have not read
The Morcyth Saga,
the following may spoil it.
1-The book from the interview. What happened to it?
This one has bothered readers ever since I first published The Unsuspecting Mage. At the interview, James picks up a small brown book with a peculiar design inscribed in gold leaf upon the cover. He feels a shock. That shock basically activated the portal and would allow him to pass. Until he had that book, he could not pass.
Why the book in the first place?
James needed to believe in magic and the book helped him to do so. The stepping through the door into the forest, the meeting of Igor would make him understand that some weird things were going on; but that magic was involved? Not necessarily. Adding the book, it brought magic to the forefront of his thoughts. That, coupled with passing through the door which could not have logically happened, and meeting Igor, which couldn’t either, created in James’ mind the kernel of belief that magic may be possible.
You see, one of the reasons the ad was put in the paper and worded the way it was, was to get recruits who were fundamentally inclined to believe in magic. Who better than role players and dungeon masters? If you need a mage, better to recruit someone bent along those lines anyway. Also, they would be more likely to thrive in the new environment for they’ve been training for it for years during their RPG experience.
The book helped James focus his thoughts and build upon the kernel of belief that magic was real and to overcome his doubts. For in order to practice magic, one must have an absolute certainty that magic is possible. Even a small kernel of doubt will keep the one trying to be a mage, from ever being able to connect to it.
Kind of like when James went back to Earth. He initially couldn’t do magic in Light in the Barren Lands because he did not believe magic existed on Earth. Once he got over that mental block, he was fine.
The book from the interview said that:
Rhyme and meter are the most effective forms of spell construction.
Which is true, but such a system is limiting. Thought and will are the best ways to manipulate magic, not trying to be Shakespeare. The book was designed to get him using magic. Once James started using spells, started being a mage, the book was no longer necessary. So, Igor took it back.
Why?
A person’s fundamental beliefs are what shapes the manner in which he utilizes magic. If the book had remained in James’ possession, then he would have kept reading and re-reading that rhyme and meter are the most effective forms of spell construction. That thought would have eventually settled firmly into his beliefs and he may not have been able to shake it. For if a mage believes that magic can only be manipulated in a certain manner, then that mage will ONLY be able to manipulate magic in that manner. So once James got the hang of magic, the book had to go.
This allowed him to grow beyond rhyme and meter and during the saving of Perrilin, he broke out of rhyme and meter and started on the toad to the mage he is today. One more fluid and less constrained by superfluous rules.
Take the mages of the Empire. They are taught that certain spells and rituals will yield certain results. So only by doing those spells, in the exact prescribed manner will garner those results. This limits them.
2-Why doesn’t James use healing magic?
One of the prerequisites for doing magic is to have an understanding of the result one desires. Also, a belief in one’s own ability to perform it. James does not believe he has sufficient knowledge of human anatomy to accurately heal someone.
Could he direct the magic to fix every cell, sinew, tendon and capillary? He could direct the magic to repair flesh, but it may end up being one solid mass, that while “fixed,” wouldn’t be good for anything else. Someone breaks a leg, you can’t just say, ‘Magic, make it unbroken.’ What does it take to fix it so it can work as it had before? What if in fixing it the bones fuse with tendons, or fuses misaligned. It would be “fixed,” it wouldn’t be broken, but it would not work very well.
Priests can heal as a matter of course, but they use magic from their god which has more of an intelligence behind it. A god’s magic will know how to fix things like that because, well, it comes from a god.
Had James been a med student, things would have been different.
Going Forward
Figure to do one or two of these per book until my storehouse of backlogged “What the heck????” questions from fans have been answered. If you have a question you would like answered in future books, email me at bp47474@aol.com with header “What the Heck???” Keep in mind, some questions will never be answered, (insert evil genius laugh.)
Preview of Book 4
Here are the first two chapters.
Book 4 Chapter One
“Everyone back to the tower!” Miko yelled.
“But what about James?” Jiron demanded. “We can’t abandon him.”
“He will kill us all,” Miko asserted.
As if to illustrate Miko’s words, a massive explosion sounded farther down the canyon, then a rumble followed as a mountainside gave way.
“You must get to shelter.”
Jiron stared into the maelstrom that surrounded his friend. Saw the flash of magic, the crackle of thunder and knew Miko was right.
“Now hurry,” Miko said.
Jiron glanced to his friend one last time, then turned to hurry back to the tower.
“Watch over them,” Miko said to Father Keller. Pulling the Star of Morcyth from his shirt, he added, “I will remain here and do what I can.”
When his priest hesitated as if to argue, Miko shook his head and pointed to the tower. “Go!”
The wind now whipped so furiously that his words nearly went unheard.
Father Keller nodded, then hurried to catch up with the Pit Masters and Jiron.
Azhan looked back at his Master, helpless in his hour of need. He then turned to follow the others.
Father Keller fought the winds as he struggled back to the tower.
The wind was unrelenting in its ferocity. Debris struck painfully, battered him as if attempting to deny him the safety of the tower.
He feared to put up a shield for fear of James’ leech lines latching on and draining the life from his body.
The face of the desiccated priest that had suffered such a fate was ever present.
Azhan came up behind him, lent him an arm and together, they supported each other back to the bridge spanning the chasm surrounding the tower.
From out of the maelstrom an incredible roar came that heralded a nearby mountain face giving way. The sound was frightfully close and drawing closer.
“Run!” Father Keller cried as he pushed Azhan across the bridge.
Scar and Potbelly stood in the gaping hole that stood where once had been the tower door.
Jiron stood just outside the tower, watching them approach.
“Come on!” Potbelly yelled.
They raced across the bridge as the ground began to shake. Rock fell away from beneath the end of the bridge they had just crossed, causing it to shift suddenly as they hit mid-span, then completely break away from the edge of the chasm and fell.
Father Keller lost his grip on Azhan and stumbled to the rail, hit it hard and barely caught himself before going over.
“Father!” came Azhan’s shout from behind him.
Looking back, he saw Azhan had tumbled back down the bridge and now gripped the railing a mere three feet from where it ended.
The bridge came to a jarring halt as the other end took the weight and held.
“Can you make it back to me?” Father Keller hollered. The bridge now leaned down at a steep angle, only held fast by the supports on the tower side.
Azhan nodded, then worked his way back up to where the priest maintained a death-grip on the railing.
A rope suddenly snaked along the bridge next to them.
Jiron, Scar and Potbelly stood at the end of the bridge.
“Tie it around yourself!” Jiron yelled, holding the other end of the rope.
With his good arm, Potbelly pointed to the bridge supports, where the rock was breaking apart.
“It’s not going to hold!”
Father Keller used the toe of his boot to snag the rope, then pulled it toward himself.
Azhan grabbed it when it came within range. Then used one hand to secure it around himself.
No sooner had he secured the knot than the bridge shuddered. First the sound of metal warping, then the bridge tipped.
Father Keller lost his grip on the rail and started to slide down the bridge deck.
“Father!” Azhan hollered as the priest slid his way.
Arms flailing in an attempt to grab onto something to halt his plummet off the end of the bridge, he felt Azhan’s arms.
The mage wrapped both arms around the priest, while Father Keller did the same.
Increased metallic groaning; the bridge deck pitched dangerously, then fell away.
Jiron stood closest to the edge, holding onto the rope with both hands as the combined weight of Azhan and Father Keller came full upon it. Potbelly stood behind him, with the rope twisted around his one good arm, aiding his friend in preventing Azhan and Father Keller from being lost into the chasm’s depths.
As the bridge fell away, the dangling pair swung against the inner side of the chasm.
They hung there feeling very exposed and precarious for several moments, then the rope started to be pulled up.
“Hang on a little longer, Father,” Azhan said.
Inch by inch, they were drawn from the depths of the chasm.
Ten feet to go, they heard another tell-tale rumble of a mountainside giving way.
The rope began to be pulled up with greater speed.
The sound grew in volume and intensity.
Reaching the top, Jiron and Potbelly held the rope fast as Scar reached down to first help Father Keller out of the chasm.
The ground began skaking again as the roar of the landslide grew deafening.
“Come on!” Scar yelled as he sent Father Keller on his way. Then reached down for Azhan.
The apprentice grabbed his down-stretched hand.
The shaking grew worse, the roar of the landslide drew closer.
Pulling hard, he got the mage up onto solid ground.
From out of the maelstrom came the sight of a mountain of dirt speeding their way.
“Move it!” Scar yelled as he and the others broke into an all-out run for the tower.
Father Keller had already passed within the gaping hole that was now the tower entrance.
The ground shook so severely that it was nearly impossible for them to keep their footing. Yet they managed to stay upright long enough to flee into the tower
Scar reached the tower first, passed through the opening then paused to glance back. “To the back!” he yelled just as Jiron, Potbelly and Azhan raced past. He turned to follow, made it three steps before being knocked off his feet by a mass of dirt and stone surging through the tower entrance.
He tumbled as the leading edge overtook him. He went down in a river of dirt and rocks.
“Scar!” Potbelly yelled but his friend was lost from sight.
The tower shook violently, everyone was thrown off their feet.
Potbelly went down to one knee and tried to brace himself against a wall to maintain balance, but used his broken arm. It he felt the broken bone give way and he hit the floor.
Stones cracked as the tower tipped to one side.
Azhan lost his balance, and went head first into a wall.
Father Keller stumbled, the shaking knocked him from his feet and he crashed hard against a door jamb.
Losing his balance, Jiron landed hard against the side of the passageway.
For a moment it seemed as if the tower would collapse completely but it stopped at a precarious angle.
A moment later the shaking stopped.
Silence.
Light from a lone torch dimly lit their room.
Kip untangled himself from an unmoving Hikai where they laid at the bottom of the steeply-slanted floor. Found the young mage unconscious but alive.
He moved him to a resting position against the wall, made his way to the lone flickering torch, and pulled it from the wall sconce.
“Everyone okay?” his voice echoed.
“No,” came Potbelly’s voice from the hallway. “But I’m alive.”
Kip held the torch aloft with one hand while the other braced against the tower wall as he walked along the seriously angled floor to the room’s doorway.
Peering through he asked, “Reverend Father?”
The torch’s light revealed Potbelly lying near Father Keller. The Pit Master was propped up on his good arm, his other dangled at an unnatural angle.
“He’s not here, Kip,” Potbelly explained. “He stayed out there to help James.”
Father Keller wasn’t moving.
“Is he dead?” Kip asked, making his way toward them.
