Rampage, page 5
part #1 of Land of the Elementals Series
Silver seemed to flow as he moved forward, neatly stepping out of the way as Arbor over-extended, then his hardwood staff came up in a blur cracking him across his knuckles.
Arbor screamed and let go of his weapon, the glaive falling to the forest floor as he shook his stinging hands.
“Is that all? Guess you don’t want to know what that pendant is, after all,” Silver mocked, that infuriating smile plastered across his face.
Arbor just scowled and picked the weapon up again.
He would hit this smug bastard if it was the last thing he’d do.
For the next hour, Arbor tried to hit Silver but was unsuccessful. Silver kept on goading him, smiling the entire time as Arbor threw himself at the infuriating man. Finally, Arbor had to give up, throwing the weapon away in disgust. He sat down and put his back to tree, panting hard.
Closing his eyes, he could feel the throbbing pain from the dozen or so new bruises Silver’s staff had inflicted.
“Don’t blame the weapon! After all, it’s not the weapon’s fault that you don’t know how to use it,” Silver called out, the ever-present smile still stretched across his face.
He wasn’t even winded!
Arbor was outraged. Here he was, covered in bruises and this hermit looked as though he wasn’t even trying!
“Yeah, what do you know about the glaive?” Arbor asked with a bitter, mocking tone.
Silver quirked his head, then bent down and picked up the discarded weapon. Spinning it a few times, he began moving through a form, the blade whirling in his hands as he spun, slashed and stabbed.
Arbor watched in fascination as Silver flowed effortlessly through the form, seeming to dance as he moved, the blade never stopping. As he moved, the weapon seemed to travel faster and faster, until it was little more than a silver blur.
Finally, he finished with a big overhead slash. He held the position for a few seconds before straightening. Looking over at Arbor, he smiled again.
“Oh. Nothing much.”
8
Arbor walked through the forest, the leaves crunching underfoot as he went. The brown trees of the Endless Wood were slowly changing into the black, leafless trunks of the Dead Forest. He could feel a slight chill in the air as he walked.
The landscape had been slowly shifting over the last few hours, and he knew he was close to the border of the Dead Forest. He checked the map Silver had provided.
“Should be there by nightfall,” he muttered, rolling up the map and placing it back in his pack.
He had ended up spending an entire month with Silver. He had protested at first, saying that he needed to get to Grend and find help for his sister. He quickly changed his mind when Silver asked if he knew where the city was. Arbor, much to his chagrin, had admitted that no, he didn’t know where Grend was. He honestly didn’t even know what part of the woods he was in.
Silver had then made him a deal. Arbor would stay for one month, and Silver would educate him. Arbor had scoffed at the idea, but then Silver had said that they would spar every day, and if Arbor could hit him just once, he would tell him whatever he wanted to know about his pendant.
Arbor had soon learned that there was a lot he didn’t know. The main thing being the name of the land he lived in. He learned that the kingdom was called Laedrin and that the land stretched from the Red Ocean, hundreds of miles to the north, to the Goldenleaf Forest of the elves all the way in the south. There were also the Jagged Peaks, where the dwarves lived, to the west, and all this was connected by massive Flatlands, hundreds of miles of dry, cracked earth where nothing grew.
The capital city of Galmir was near the Red Ocean to the north. Arbor was shocked by all this information. He hadn’t even known that there were dwarves or elves. He’d thought they were just myths. Silver also explained about another race, the race of the salamanders.
Arbor asked where they lived, and Silver had just shook his head sadly. He said they were mostly extinct, and the few surviving members were scattered all over Laedrin. Arbor was saddened by this news. He didn’t know why, but he felt a sort of kinship with this unknown race. He had lost his family, and they had lost theirs.
He fought with Silver every day, the odd man teaching him stances and forms to better use his weapon. He tried every day but did not manage to so much as touch Silver, even once. Arbor had discovered another thing about himself while training, and this stuck most prominently in his mind.
He was sparring with Silver one day. It was the twenty-second day of his training, and Arbor was infuriated at not being able to hit him. As they circled each other, Arbor felt the same odd feeling he’d had during the bandit attack during his wedding. He didn’t know how, but he was sure that Silver would move in and feint with an overhead blow, before dropping the staff and sweeping his feet out from under him.
Remembering how it had worked the last time, he decided to test this feeling, and when Silver came in for the blow, he had stepped in instead of back and swung his glaive in a downward parry.
Arbor was shocked when his block actually worked. He had correctly predicted Silver’s move. He didn’t get much of a chance to celebrate, though, as Silver’s staff came around and cracked on the side of his head, dropping him like a sack.
“How did you do that?” Silver asked, holding his hand out to help him up. He had an odd look on his face, like he knew something but had to be sure.
“I don’t know,” Arbor had said honestly as he took the proffered hand. “I just had a feeling that the blow was a feint.”
Silver looked at him for a moment, seeming to be lost in thought.
“Is this the first time you’ve had that feeling?” he asked.
Arbor shook his head, explaining the last time he’d felt the same thing. Silver nodded at that, taking up his fighting stance again.
“Let’s try that once more. Tell me if you have that feeling again.”
Arbor nodded and took up his stance, legs spread and balanced, the glaive held in a double-handed grip across his body, with the tip dipping slightly toward the ground. He waited for a moment, and then the feeling came again — a tight feeling in his stomach, along with a certainty of how Silver would attack.
The man would come in high, with a feint. Arbor would raise his glaive in a defensive parry, and Silver would spin his staff, knocking his glaive aside and crack him across the ribs. He could see the entire scene play out ahead of time, as though seeing into the future.
Following his instincts again, he turned out to be right. He tried moving in again after Silver’s feint failed, but he danced nimbly backward. Arbor rushed to follow him.
If he knew where Silver would be, he could beat him.
Silver’s staff caught his ankle, and Arbor went down again, hard. He groaned, rubbing his stinging leg and looking up at Silver with a glower.
“I knew where you would be! I should have beaten you!” he said with a scowl.
Silver just shook his head. “Your mind might know where I will be, but your body can’t keep up yet.”
He helped him up and smiled brightly again.
“More important than that, you have magic!” Silver said with a huge grin.
“I have what?” Arbor asked, not sure he’d heard the hermit correctly.
“Magic!” he said again, his smile not diminishing at all. “It’s rare for humans to have magic these days, let alone your type of magic!”
He seemed very happy and moved around the clearing with excitement.
“What do you mean by, my type of magic?” Arbor asked, still a little skeptical about what the clearly crazy hermit was saying.
There was no way he could have magic.
Sure, he knew that it existed and that some people had the talent for it, but there was just no way he could have it. He would have known by now if he did.
“Well, I’m not quite sure yet. This is just a guess, mind you,” Silver said, finally seeming to calm down. He looked at Arbor then, a shrewd look on his face. “What do you know about magic?” he asked.
“Not much,” Arbor said with a shrug. “I know it exists, and that some people have it. That’s really about it.”
He slung his glaive over his shoulder and sheathed the weapon.
“Let me explain the origin of magic and how it will affect you,” Silver sat down and motioned Arbor to do so as well.
“Magic is one of the great forces of this world,” Silver began. “Long ago, the salamander race began to discover the gift of controlling the natural energies in the world. The salamanders soon decided to share their discovery with the other races, for this was a wonderful discovery indeed and they dare not keep it to themselves. It soon became clear to them that magic could not be taught to everyone.
“For example, the dwarves had almost no affinity for it, while the elves had a surprisingly high one. The gremlins and humans were in between, some being able to learn it, while others were inept.”
Silver had stopped at that point to light a fire and put a kettle on for tea. He sat back as the water boiled and continued.
“As it is with all things, when people have power, they inevitably want to dominate others. Magic was a wild thing back then, and there was little control,” Silver sighed sadly at this point, his usual smile slipping from his face.
“There was war. Hundreds of thousands of lives were lost, and soon it looked as though the world itself would be destroyed.”
Silver stopped again to get the kettle off the fire. He poured hot water over the leaves in a cup and took a slow sip.
“Well?” Arbor asked impatiently. “What happened next?”
Silver put his cup down, the smile returning to his face. “No one knows. That part was lost to history.”
“What was the point of you telling me the story then?” Arbor asked in frustration.
“The point,” Silver said, putting his cup down. “Is that control is the most important thing a Mage can have. Without it, there’s just war and death! Magic is much different now than it was back then. For example, magic is no longer a wild power to be harnessed; rather, it is a power born within oneself. It needs to be nurtured, trained, and honed like any skill.”
“How do you mean?” Arbor asked.
The longer the man spoke, the more confused he was becoming.
“Magic is still in the world around us, but at some point, people lost the ability to control it. Now anyone who can use magic has the power inside of them — a small piece of the wild magic from their ancestors.
“Right now, you are only a Tier 1 Mage, the very weakest there is. In order to advance your magic, you will need to train, grow, strengthen your body, and so on. I can’t teach you how to do this though, as it’s something all Mages must figure out for themselves.”
Arbor had no idea what the man was going on about. What the hell even was a Tier 1 Mage, and why couldn’t he teach him how to get stronger?
“I’m still very confused,” Arbor said, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing.
“That’s not important for now,” Silver said, waving his hand dismissively.
“I think I know your magic type. I believe that you have the rare gift of Perception magic,” he said, expecting him to be excited by the news.
“What’s that?” Arbor asked, his brow creasing in confusion. “And what do you mean by my type of magic?”
“Every person who has magic has a specific type of magic, unique to them. For example, someone who can control fire won’t also be able to use healing magic.”
Arbor finally nodded his understanding.
“As for Perception magic,” he continued. “It’s a special type of body magic. There have only been a few known cases, and fewer still have been recorded. The simple and very basic explanation is that Perception magic can boost your physical capabilities further than it would normally be possible. You will, of course, be constrained to what is possible at your Tier, but with time and training, your ability will grow.”
“That doesn’t sound like anything special,” Arbor said. “And if my Tier limits my power, shouldn’t it be important to know how to move to the next one? In fact, what does it even mean? You’re not really doing a very good job of explaining.”
“Fine,” Silver said, rolling his eyes. “Mages gain power throughout their lives by practicing and honing their craft. But everyone needs to start at the beginning and to make sure you don’t hurt yourself accidentally, limits are placed. These limits are what we call Tiers. There is no limit to the number of Tiers out there, but every Mage has their limit. This is a point at which they can no longer advance.
“But don’t make the mistake of thinking that just because someone is a higher Tier than you, that they are automatically more powerful or vice-versa. Tiers only limit how much power can be safely used, without the risk of injury or death. That being said, those who can wield more of their power will usually come out on top in a fight. That is why training is so important.”
Arbor slowly nodded, finally grasping the basis of what Silver was talking about.
“You still haven’t explained what’s so great about my magic though,” he said, wrinkling his brows.
“I see you’re still confused, so let me give you an example. Say a normal man can lift fifty pounds. At Tier 1, someone like you would easily be able to lift five times that amount!”
Arbor was shocked, but Silver just continued talking.
“There are, of course, many different types of Perception magic. While one man can lift five times more than another, a different man could move five times as fast. You were able to predict my actions after watching me fight. It may be that your magic can increase your perception or remember an opponent’s movements and correctly predict where they will be. Only time will tell, but one thing is already abundantly clear. Your learning speed is far above that of a normal person.”
He smiled conspiratorially at Arbor then. “Truth be told, there aren’t many with your physical capabilities in the entire world. It’s amazing how quickly you’ve taken to your chosen weapon, and I predict you’ll only become better in time. Who knows? You might even be able to reach Tier 2 in a couple of months!”
“Is that fast?”
Silver nodded vehemently.
“It takes most new mages well over half a year to hit Tier 2, though, by your age, most are sitting at around Tier 4 or 5.”
Arbor frowned at that. It seemed that he had a lot of catching up to do.
“So, can you teach me magic then?” he asked, hopefully.
Silver shook his head sadly at that.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t teach what I don’t know.”
Arbor’s face had fallen then. Of course Silver couldn’t teach him. There was no way he had magic. The man must have been mistaken about him, and he wasn’t nearly as special as Silver seemed to think him to be.
He was snapped out of his self-deprecating thoughts when Silver continued speaking.
“What I can tell you, though, is that there is a magic school in the Goldenleaf Forest. The elves are very knowledgeable when it comes to magic. They’re not especially fond of humans, but they may accept you, as you have such a rare type of magic.”
Silver grew very serious then. Any trace of a smile was now gone.
“Now I must warn about using magic. It may seem harmless at first, but all magic has a price. Push yourself too far too fast, and you will destroy yourself.”
Arbor just shook his head.
“I don’t have time for this elf school, and I won’t use magic if it’s that risky.”
The smile had returned to Silver’s face by then.
“Magic doesn’t work that way. It will come, whether you want it or not.”
With that last statement, he stood and picked up his staff to resume their training.
Arbor remembered the experience while he walked. Silver was right. Even now, he could feel it- a small pulsing from his center where he now knew his magic to be located. He was tempted to reach for it, but he quickly forced it down, remembering Silver’s warning.
It wasn’t all bad, though. His magic had somehow sped up his ability to heal. His ribs didn’t even twinge anymore, and any bruises that Silver had inflicted had healed within hours. He frowned at that memory.
Sure, it was nice that his injuries were gone, but it disconcerted him that some unknown power had done it, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last time. Arbor walked until the sun was low on the horizon. The landscape had considerably changed over the course of the day, and he was now standing in a small clearing surrounded by black trunked trees.
This was as good a spot as any to make camp for the night.
He collected some dead branches from around the clearing and soon had a small fire going. He sipped from his waterskin, then bit into some of the dried meat that Silver had provided for him.
The dark, ominous trees made him feel uneasy, as though something sinister were lurking in the surrounding trees, hiding just out of view. There was no question in his mind now.
He had reached the Dead Forest.
9
Arbor was exhausted. He’d been walking for days, and even his new magic didn’t seem to work on sore feet, not that he even knew what his magic could actually do.
His boots were worn out, and his clothes were barely holding up any better. He resolved himself to get new clothing once he reached Grend.
And a horse. Definitely a horse, he thought. Maybe even two.
All around him, black leafless trunks stood, creaking in the light breeze. Stopping for a moment, he pulled his map out once again. According to Silver, he should already have reached Grend or at least caught sight of it. He put the map back in his bag with a sound of disgust.
There was a hill up ahead. Maybe he’d get a better view from the top.
Arbor trudged up the hill, his aching feet crying out in protest. As he crested the hill, his eyes widened, and he gasped audibly.
