War mage crystals of mem.., p.47
War Mage (Crystals of Memory Book 4), page 47
Not explaining the plan, Vogal simply pointed at them, including Grandfather Snow, and yelled in his own language.
“Get them! Use magic. Everything you have!”
They nearly died then, of course. Cascades of power ripped at the very fabric of the world, and Anders writhed in pain, having to move closer to Erold and then Farad, to form a bullwark of protection. They couldn’t answer with magic at all, when using their new skills and the devic, if they had come to watch, were invisible to him. Still, after a time those attacking them weakened, gasping and finally stopping in their efforts.
The whole thing had hurt, but Anders answered with a blast of light, which touched each of them in turn. Simply to test and see if he had any power left. The answer was that he did, having all of it, as far as he could tell. He felt tired, but not drained at all, in that fashion.
Seeing his friend doing that, Erold did the same, with Farad matching them, nearly, after some moments. His art of casting such was simply slower than what Anders was used to using. No one was harmed, since it was only a light, but the idea made sense to them all, even the now exhausted people.
Who, rather pleasantly, applauded them, as if a fancy trick had been performed for their amusement.
One of them, a tall woman, in a blue gown, with a face that seemed normal, if made more attractive due to her thick lipped smile, moved in and gave Farad a hug.
“That was different! Did the devic protect you all?”
Old Farad shook his head at the words but smiled.
“No, this is a new form of magic. One that Anders here and Vogal worked out, in fact. It uses a natural talent that I wasn’t aware of, to shut down magic, in a given area. It takes great effort and is not perfect, but could be of aid, if war comes this way. All of you should learn it, of course. This only took the three of us a day to reach this point and Vogal learned it faster than that. So, no being lazy, you lot! I’m going to go away, for some years. I’ve taken a position in Istlan, teaching magic and working with the devic, at their new grand college there. The road has been improved between here and there, so you can all come and visit, next spring, if you get a chance?”
The woman nodded, her face a bit too calm.
“We noticed the new road heading in that direction. It’s very nice. There are places to stay along the route as well? Miken and Carl both rode down it for a way, and noticed that new structures had been constructed. At least three of them.”
Anders spoke then, using the same language that the rest of them were. A thing learned from having invented it, in part. Others had helped with that, and he understood that Anders hadn’t been there at the time, but it felt as if it had happened to him, as much as anything ever had.
“You have that kind of thing all the way to the school there in Istlan. Now, not to be mean, but we should investigate this more and...”
The entire crowd stirred at his words, then, almost instantly, with only the slightest hesitation, tried to hit them again with various magics. This time, after the initial flailing to protect himself, in which he nearly died, he was certain, Anders moved in toward the dozen people and did battle with them. That part was very strange to him, of course.
He’d practice fighting, and was growing in skill a bit, as well as knowing all that Farad did on that topic now. That didn’t change his size or shape, which threw him off, however. Also, it was clear that, having lived the life of Farad in the way he did hadn’t gifted him with any greater strength. The devic had added an inhuman level of such things to Farad, over the ages. The old man was truly more powerful than ten strong men could ever hope to be.
Anders was about as powerful as one fairly active boy. It meant he wasn’t nearly as gifted at fighting, when that actually started. Interestingly, all of the others had to pick which they were doing, fighting with hands and feet, or using magic. The instant they all started using physical skills, Anders dropped what he was doing and sent them all flying backwards with a single palm pressed forward.
Stumbling at least. They were helping him after all, and while it was hard, they weren’t his enemies. He’d known some of them their entire lives. Bethan, the thick lipped woman, had literally been delivered by Farad, for instance. Anders recalled the scent of it, and the feeling of the dampness on his hands.
He also recalled teaching her magic. A different form of it than what Anders knew. A slower thing, that left the woman with only three spells ready to call on in a fight. She had to keep those ready to go, casting them for ten minutes each, every morning.
It was clear that she’d only bothered with one of them that day, as well.
Anders, however, could use thousands of different combinations, so set people to floating in the airs, spinning gently, hit them with blasts of cold water from nowhere and sent rings of fire at them, which were only illusion, since burning his helpers seemed pretty rude. Especially if he wanted them to aid him in that fashion again.
Prince Erold didn’t match him in speed or the number of spells, but when they’d subdued the others, with Vogal standing back and watching the whole thing, the tall blond fellow called a halt to it all.
“Stop! That was fine, I suppose. Clearly our magic types need to go to the school in Istlan! Go and rest everyone. We’ll meet back here... Tomorrow at the same time? Be better prepared.”
At least half the people made rude hand gestures at the man, for his words. Even if that would probably be very helpful. They had to press things to a greater level, if they were going to take on Ganges. Rothina would be even harder, being more powerful. That was what he’d heard, at least.
The rest of the day was spent writing, and in discussion, working out ideas as to how to best use the new talents they were developing. It wasn’t going that well, he thought. Farad, looking a bit tired, seemed to think otherwise, though.
“We probably won’t have to fight with Ganges, directly. Clearly, he won’t wish to harm you, Anders. I don’t know his plan there, but he seems different, the way you have spoken of him. Like he used to be, before. This Rothina, Lady Martya... She speaks of her plans openly to you?”
He shrugged, then cleaned the metal nib of his pen on a small piece of fine cloth he had for that purpose.
“She’s spoken of it, once. I don’t know if that’s part of her plan, or... Truly, I didn’t ask her to leave off, or to explain herself, either. I just assumed that it was a bad thing.”
Instead of assuring him that he was correct, which Anders didn’t see happening at all, the old man tapped the table they were sitting at, several times.
“We should do that? There is little need to start a battle, if words will work as well. It would be a mistake to draw a sword first thing, when a few hugs and kind words will repair old damages. Again, the problem there in this is mine, not theirs. I’m the one who cannot forgive. Failing in that, if they are trying to change would be foolish. I have to work on that. It’s difficult, to forgive, after everything.”
The words were in Istlan, so that Prince Erold could understand them as well. The younger man took his time to think, brushed at his short blond hair and didn’t speak until all eyes were on him.
“We should send some messages, today. Father needs to know of all of this, as well as several others. The last he heard from me, I mentioned only that Ganges had warped the minds of many, possibly the whole world. That, if nothing else, needs to be updated. It’s a rather strong statement, insisting on making so many forget you, isn’t it?”
The words got a rather ungentle snort from Anders.
“True! What is that statement informing us of, however? Is this an evil man hiding his new plans to harm us all behind magic, or a good man simply attempting to start a new life, unhampered by what has come before? For that matter, did he do it himself, or did Rothina? People can’t recall Ganges... That means that they can’t recall that she has that same man in her mind as well, most likely.”
Sighing, Farad closed his eyes. It seemed to be him going into a trance, and possibly was, but a few moments later several devic entered into the room. Two red and one pale blue one. He spoke to them, in a gentle voice, using the language of Ferlith.
“Friends! I would ask for your aid, if that is allowed? There is, in the land of Istlan, at the castle there, a man and woman, both with the same mind, in part. Ganges. Could you go and watch them, for a time, keeping yourselves hidden from both eye and magic? I don’t know what might be done, but take care. Leave if danger to you is presented, please? We need information, but not at too great a risk to you.”
Anders nodded then, understanding the idea. The devic weren’t dark riders, or at least these particular ones weren’t. They weren’t coerced and punished into working, or even begged to do a task. They were simply asked, as one would a friend. At the same time, Farad had always considered them as such, which meant that a great many of them preferred his company to that of others. They lived there, in Ferlith, guarded it and provided much for the people there, because it was their home as well. These were their people, and they were treated as equals there.
Even having seen all of what Farad had in life, the idea was so different than what he’d encountered before with the dark entities that it seemed almost as if there must be different sorts of such things. As if these beings were the small or weak ones. That wasn’t true, of course. They simply weren’t trying to burn them to death with gouts of fire, or to shake the mountain down.
Which, he realized, was just polite. He wasn’t doing that either and the truth was he could have made a valiant attempt at doing either one of them. When they left, he murmured a bit.
“I hope they’re alright? We should see to those messages now and to making ready to travel, in a few days. We’ll need to go to Duchy Lister first. The Duke there is a friend of mine. There are also some women we need to take back with us to the castle, and isn’t really a detour at all.”
Farad didn’t balk at the idea of women being with them. Then, he wouldn’t. The man loved women, as it turned out. He’d gotten a slow start that way in life, but over time had become quite fond of them, as a collective. Anders, the boy, was fine with them as well. The Farad inside of him... Well, he had, after a fashion, been changed a lot, learning from what the real Farad had done. It had left him with new skills, and while he wasn’t ten times stronger than a physically powerful man, he could see the use of smiling at a woman and not being afraid of them if they were alone.
It wouldn’t be an instant repair, but he had the tools now, to see to his future that way. That only left two potential problems for the time being. Ganges and Rothina. He readied himself to fight them, if he had to. Even to spend the rest of his life doing so, if it was required of him.
Then, because he didn’t want to be a monster, he also worked out another plan. One that used words, and he hoped, some common sense, instead of anger at what had gone before, when he was not there. He understood how Farad felt, having seen the sacrifices used to save him, and knowing that the price wasn’t worth the goal at all.
It had happened a very long time before, however.
He wondered, for a moment, if what was needed was for Farad to forgive, though. They had all lived for so long that it was fair to say they simply weren’t the same people, any longer. Even Anders had, in the last year and a half, as odd as that sounded to him.
No, he had to wonder if Ganges and Rothina could both forgive themselves. That, if they could manage it, would probably be the biggest factor in what was about to happen between them all.
Chapter thirty-two
For some reason Anders had suspected that someone called Grandfather Snow would be treated to a large going away party, perhaps with a parade, or at least have people insist on sending twenty attendants with him when he left, for what they had clearly stated, was going to be years. A long enough time frame that, instead of simply closing his home up, he actually gave the whole thing to the son of his neighbor, since the young man was planning to marry in a few months.
Then he gave away everything he owned, except for a few sets of clothing, two horses and a saddle. It wasn’t sold, even, for travel funds. Just handed out, with a smile, to anyone in the city who wanted it. Interestingly, about ten of the floating and glowing devic did travel with them, hovering over and around Old Farad as they rode out. So, he had an honor guard of a sort. They were faint enough that most of the people they passed wouldn’t notice them being there at all. Not that they were going to see many people while they traveled.
Heading back was much faster than going had been, the only reason they slowed at all was for the comfort of themselves and the horses. They hunted regularly, and when it came to gathering, having Farad there with them made a vast difference. Anders knew a lot of new edibles, but the other man bothered to search them out. The variety of food was vast, heading back. Not up to the castle’s food standards, perhaps, but it was the best trail food he’d ever eaten.
They slept in inns at night and held up in one of those for a full day, when an intense storm came in and lingered over them, dumping a lot of water, but also filling the sky with lightning and thunder. The wind was enough that Anders went out in the damp and created a full barn for their mounts. He didn’t mention it, but when they left in the morning the old man gave him a warm smile.
“Very wise of you, to protect our friends like this.”
They practiced as they rode, and in the evenings. Not focusing too insanely on fighting, but they did work on both using magic and blocking it, with a good amount of effort. They also talked to devic, learning to understand them and befriending them, mainly by being kind. On occasion, when they didn’t use their own power for things, Farad would inquire of his friends if any of them were willing to aid them. They always did it, and the man was always effusive in his praise of them, after. As if they were friends, or possibly pets, instead of things to fear.
It was, even with that, clear that the creatures were far more powerful than any human was, using magic. It wasn’t even close, as to what they could do. At one point, finding that the road was flooded, one of the devic, not even being asked, simply moved the water, and held it up, off the ground, then easily transported it, a running stream that was beyond its banks, miles away, so the road would remain clear. Anders thought he might have made a dam of some sort and deflected the flow, but he couldn’t have matched what he’d witnessed.
He knew that he probably couldn’t have even made an illusion of it, of an equal size.
After a while, he turned in the saddle a bit, to look at the elder in their midst.
“That was a rather large show of power, back there. Is that devic particularly strong, or good with water?”
There was a grin then.
“No. If anything Rafo is weakest with water. She’s no stronger than the others here, with us. They don’t often need to do things such as that on their own, but traveling with people who have bodies requires more work, at times. I think that’s the feeling from our friends?”
Prince Erold laughed then.
“I can see that! We can barely fly, move on slow horses and keep sleeping the night away. That must be frustrating. I understand that now that it’s been mentioned.” They’d been on the road for long enough at that point that it could have been a real issue for the floating, fast moving, beings.
Anders agreed, so spoke on it as well. The devic didn’t really see, after all. One of their friends was clearly Duke Cohen, but the former man didn’t hold himself as being any different than the others. Still, he called him by name, knowing it.
“What say you, Alder? Are you finding us too slow and annoying?”
That got a laugh which tickled his mind, not a real response, but the green glow that felt like the man settled near him, for a while, on their ride. It was companionable, even if Anders had left him blind once, in life. The fellow, clearly, hadn’t held that against him.
When he spoke next, it was oddly useful.
“Ambush, on the right, bandits. Seven of them.”
Farad clearly heard the words and Anders cleared his throat, rather gently, then whispered.
“Fight ahead, on the right. Bandits. I have this one.” He stopped in the road, pulled out his war bow, and muttered a spell. Then cast a single arrow into the right area. It froze all the bandits solid, leaving their horses untouched. The plants as well.
Anders, feeling annoyed, looked at the Prince.
“We need to take their heads off and leave them on the side of the road, as a warning to others. I’ll do that, and you two can get their horses?” he knew that both men would have done the bloody, or at least gruesome, work, but it had been his action that had made it needed, so he took the task as his own. No one argued about it.
The animals took longer, since all of them needed to be tended to, for different reasons. One was a nag so old that Anders had to regrow her teeth, just so she could eat again. How she’d lasted that long, he didn’t know. She was so raw boned that he worried, even after healing her, that she might not make it the ten miles or so down the road to Duchy Lister.
He used one of his own knives to take the heads off, after thawing the six men and one woman. That part shocked him a bit, but she’d had a blade out, and was dressed to fight, in leather and brown homespun trousers. None of them had started out smelling nice and dying hadn’t aided them with that task, either. Not that they were rotting yet. After warming enough to cut easily, certain things inside of them released, however, which was less than aromatic.
Then they rode on then, arriving at the duchy that evening.
They were met, actual servants working there already, and with the Duke seeming decently positive about meeting Farad, in person. He was kind about that part of things, and not too suspicious, having been in contact with Anders on the topic of the man. Including that Anders had relived all of his life with him, which would be very hard to fake, he had to believe. Perhaps not impossible, for one so old, but he felt like a good and honest person.
