Caster's Spell (A Mage Tale Book 1) Page 17

  Wesley stood up. "What do you want, Liam?"

  The cheeky Wizard only laughed.

  "Fine, then we’ll fight. But let’s make it quick; I gotta get back to class."

  "Well, well, well, aren’t we the bold one?" said Liam, stepping absurdly close. "Very well. When we’re done with you, you’re going to miss being up on that wall."

  "No. A duel, Liam, just you and me. Jumping me proves nothing." He looked around. "Am I right?" Then he focused on the bully. "If anything, it only proves that you’re scared to face me alone."

  Liam’s brows pulled down to the bridge of his nose, casting a dark shadow over his eyes.

  "They won’t be able to identify the body."

  It was much more than Wesley expected for an answer, but he couldn’t allow the boys to see that he was frightened. "So that’s a yes?"

  Liam nodded.

  "Good. Let’s hurry."

  The boys rushed out to the nearest courtyard, trying not to be loud, but still drawing enough attention to themselves to triple the size of their group by the time they reached a spot that they found suitable.

  "Alright," said one of the boys with a funny accent. "I’ll arbitrate. Everyone back up."

  The youngsters widened the circle.

  "Stand at the ready."

  The duelists prepared themselves.

  "Duel!"

  "Ignis!" Liam aimed his scepter.

  "Terra-wall." Wesley could see the flame rush by as it wrapped around the stone. "Same old tricks, Wizard?"

  "No," he heard Liam’s voice coming from a different angle. "But it was a good way for you to lose track of me, moron."

  Wesley was struck with a sharp pain in his lower calves. He shouted and looked down to see two snakes with their jaws wrapped around his legs.

  "You’re not the only one who can conjure," announced the Wiccan boy.

  Wesley composed himself enough to initiate maleza and under his will, the snakes were dragged into the earth. His legs were shaking beneath him and his pants were starting to show red, but he couldn’t quit yet.

  "Two can play at that game," he said through breaths. "Hurón."

  The weasel jumped out of the cloud of smoke, ready for battle.

  "That’s it?" Liam laughed sardonically. "Whatever will I do?"

  His attitude didn’t discourage Wesley though. Instead, he launched the small mammal into the air in the direction of his adversary.

  "Hurón," he called to the conjure. "Roast him!"

  "What? Are you completely brainless?" insulted Liam. "It’s just a stupid—"

  The cloud of fire that he had to avoid cut Liam’s sentence short.

  "I wouldn’t make fun of him if I were you," warned Wesley before falling to his knees. "My Hurón is prideful."

  "You stupid monkey," Liam growled, patting out the embers on his sleeve. He aimed the lion’s gaping mouth. "I don’t care if it takes all of my source, you’re going down, Knuckle-dragger. Puls!" The weasel was blown away. Then he slammed his scepter on the ground. "Will of The Doomed."

  "Liam, you can’t do that!" one of the surrounding students cried out. “It takes too much source!”

  "It can backfire!" shouted a second.

  “You’ll die!” crowed a third.

  What’s the Will of The Doomed?

  The desperation in their voices made Wesley panic. He tried to run, but a sudden numbness overcame his legs and he fell. What is this?

  "That’s right," Liam said under the strain of his spell. "Those snakes were venomous."

  He’d been planning it all along, Wesley only just realized. The Wizard accounted for every step of this short battle and now he was making his final move. The inside of the lion’s mouth fell to darkness and a hand, like a shadow, reached out of it.

  "Liam, stop this," begged a Witch whose voice Wesley recognized. It was Emily Palo from Master Rosen’s class.

  Wesley, far too terrified to be infatuated, struggled to crawl away, but the hand caught him by the ankle. "Aghhh!!!" he hollered in agony. He felt his source flowing out of him as if he was casting the most arduous of spells. It was being pulled, stolen by the black hand.

  "How does it feel, Warlock?" Liam seemingly forced a smile against exhaustion. Wesley could feel the Wiccan’s source shrinking. He was trembling, with sweat flicking off his nose and chin. Then, as if to spite his own degradation, Liam boasted, "Looks like you’re running out of time."

  Wesley attempted another conjure but in vain. The numbness was moving up his body at an alarming rate.

  Then he felt a sudden weakening of Liam’s spell, but it was still more than enough to draw tears from him. By then the genius had dropped to one knee and was hyperventilating. Then amid his own cries, Wesley heard a shriek.

  "Agh!" Liam screamed as he fell forward on his hands. A few seconds later the Wizard was faced down in the dirt.

  "Liam," Wesley managed. "Are you…"

  He collapsed too, only capable of watching the petrified faces of the silenced horde. Somebody help me, he begged silently, but none of them took a step. It was getting harder to breathe as the snake’s venom infiltrated his lower chest.

  Then a sweltering heat overcame the environment accompanied with a powerful gust of wind. The spell was severed.

  "What’s this foolishness!" shouted Master Conley. The crowd of students screamed and tried to run. "Stop them."

  "I’m on it," Wesley heard his roommate’s voice. He struggled to look around as a raging gale encircled the students. Then Master Rosen appeared by his head.

  His breaths were getting slower, more labored. He could hear every beat of his own heart in his head as it slowed as well. Light ran from his vision.

  "Looks like he’s been poisoned," said Master Rosen. He touched Wesley’s forehead with his scepter and in an instant the boy felt the pain of suffocation flush out and he took a deep breath. "That should do it."

  "Th—thank…" Wesley mustered, but Rosen turned away.

  "I can’t believe what I’m seeing," said the stout man with eyes full of pain, as if watching a tragedy. "Thank you for calling me, Brice."

  "Three instructas must be present to investigate and place judgment. It’s protocol," the Dueling Master replied before addressing the students. "You’re all receivin’ a demerit and ya suspended from class for the rest of the week."

  "And to the onlookers,” said Dean Sinclair before Wesley even realized he had arrived, “you are not to leave your dorms, with the exception of meal times.”

  He raised his scepter and all of the young magi were stamped with blue light, before they promptly vanished from sight.

  Cameron knelt down at Wesley’s side. "You really messed up this time. I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t do this."

  "Cameron," came Master Conley’s sharp voice. "Return to class and teach the rest of this session."

  "Yes, master." The boy stood up and rushed back to the Lockhart building.

  "The Wizard used a C-class spell: Will of The Doomed," said Conley to the other masters. "If it wasn’ so foolish, it’d have been impressive."

  "Indeed," said the dean.

  "Sinclair, what should we do with them?" asked Master Rosen.

  Master Sinclair sighed, looking back and forth at the two remaining G-class magi. "We won’t expel them for now."

  Wesley finally felt strong enough to move. With a lot of huffing and shaky legs, he stood up next to Master Rosen.

  "Master," he said. "Please forgive me."

  "Ya shouldn’ be able to stand, Warlock," said the Fire Sorcerer, with an emotionless face and fists crossed behind his back.

  "What do you have to say for yourself?" asked Master Sinclair as he limped over to the boy.

  "I didn’t think it would turn out like this."

  "An unsanctioned duel, withou’ any supervision or rules. How much betta could it have gone?" Conley asked rhetorically.

  "You were supposed to prove that your kind could handle attending this school. Wer
e we wrong in selecting you?"

  The boy looked down at his shoes. "Yes." Then, after realizing that he said it aloud, he stuttered. "No. I-I mean... I don’t know, master."

  "Hm." Sinclair turned to the other instructors. "They’ll take the same punishment as the other students, but with an extension of an extra week. That should suffice."

  "Agreed," said Master Rosen.

  "No, not at all," objected the tall, redheaded Master. "This is an inexcusable offense. They should be expelled."

  "We can’t do that, not to these two. The noble’s parents are quite influential on both the Board of Academics and the High Council of Magi. So he couldn’t be sent home without mucky repercussions. At the same time, if he stays then we all know why he," Sinclair motioned towards the Warlock, "can’t be kicked out. So to make their punishments more severe, both boys will be placed in detention during break hours for one month. Does that meet your requirements, Judge?"

  "Sinclair, I haven’ held that title in years. Hea’, you are my superior." The Fire Sorcerer closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. "And I suppose that’ll have to do."

  Wesley stared in silence, trying to digest what was going to happen to him and their reasons for taking such an action. Apparently, him being treated unfairly would have been a problem in the community, but why? If they hated his presence there and they saw him as something inferior, why would anyone be upset that a Wizard and a Warlock received two different punishments for the same offense?

  "Wesley Savage," said the dean. "Are you willing to accept the punishment before you?"

  The boy looked down again. He thought about how disappointed his parents would have been if they got wind of the situation. And worse how they would look at him if he didn’t answer for it. He looked back up to the man leaning on his scepter. "Yes, master, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right."

  Startling him at first, Wesley felt Master Rosen’s hand gently take hold of his shoulder.

  "Unfortunately, young one," he heard the man’s voice, "violence only begets more violence. Nothing will ever make this right."

  Punishment

  "Here’s another one," the bald, muscular boy said to Wesley as he handed him the thickest text the Warlock had ever seen.

  "Thanks, Axel," he replied from the sofa in his living room. "Was there any trouble?"

  "In the library?" the Sorcerer laughed. "Heck no, but they were kinda curious. No one ever checks out Grimoires."

  Suddenly worried, Wesley asked, "So what did you say?"

  Axel laughed, before he answered. "Told ‘em that as the future heir to the newest house of nobility, it was my duty to know all works of magic, even those that don’t pertain to earth."

  "And?"

  "You shoulda seen their faces. They were so impressed they tried to give me more books." He plopped down beside Wesley. "So Cam’s still not talkin’ to you?"

  "No, he is. But I didn’t think it was a good time to ask him for favors yet."

  "Ah, gotcha. I can’t believe all this happened over a little fight."

  "It wasn’t a little fight," Wesley clarified. "We almost died."

  "Whatever. So what do you plan to do with a Grimoire? It’s not like you can learn everything in a magic encyclopedia in a week, especially since those barely have any of the basics in them. It’s too complex."

  "I know, and I don’t want to learn everything in it," Wesley laughed half-heartedly. "But I can’t just sit around and do nothing, while everyone else learns more. Plus, I can’t stand being cooped up here. That’s why I read all of these." He motioned towards a stack of books. "The funny thing is, I don’t even remember most of what’s in them."

  "Tough luck. But it’s not like you can do anything about it."

  "Right."

  "Yeah, well I gotta go."

  "Where?"

  "Class is about to start," Axel said, pushing off his knees to stand up.

  "Oh, right." Wesley followed the Sorcerer to the door. "I guess I’ll see you later then."

  "Take care of yourself, man," Axel said, as he left the apartment. "And try not to go crazy."

  "I can only try."

  Upon sinking back into the couch, Wesley found himself oddly wondering what Liam was doing with his "free" time. Coming to the conclusion that the so-called "genius" was likely scheming something horrible, Wesley figured that he'd better be prepared. The Wizard used a C-class incantation against him. He was worlds beyond the caliber of their fellow G-class students, let alone Wesley.

  "How can I beat him?" the Warlock whispered to himself as he lay back and looked up at the ceiling. "What would Cam do?"

  "I'd focus on my strengths," Wesley heard Cameron's voice.

  "What? Cam, was that you?" His amber hair swished around as he speedily looked about the living-room. But no one was there.

  "Don't worry, you're not crazy," he heard the Sorcerer's voice again, loud and clear. "I'm not really there. It's a communications trick I learned in Curses, last week. Look behind you."

  Wesley turned back and saw a curse mark on a small piece of sticky notepad paper stuck to the wall. "That's cool."

  "Yeah, I'm in class right now, but it's Casting so we can talk."

  Wesley laughed, remembering the relaxed structure of Wind Casting. "So you'd focus on your strengths?"

  "Exactly. I think you are trying to learn too much. I mean if you think about it, you must have learned over fifty different spells in the past five months or so, right? How many do you remember how to do right now?"

  "Hmm." Wesley scratched his brow. "Well, ugh..."

  "No more than ten, huh?" Cameron said through the curse.

  "Yeah pretty much right on the dot." Wesley laughed at himself.

  "If that's the case, then reading ten thousand books about things you don't understand won't get you anywhere."

  "Uhh, yeah, good thing I only read for fun, right?"

  Now Cameron laughed, "Right. Listen, there are only a few months 'til the Final Exams. Trying to learn a million new spells will only spread you thin. Just think of the things that you know best."

  "Well, if I had to choose... I'd say conjures."

  "Good. I think that you should really focus on one thing, maybe two."

  "Okay, Cam," said Wesley. "Thanks for the advice."

  "Any time, man. I'm pretty pissed that you didn't just ask me for help in the first place though," the Sorcerer said with a grunt.

  "I thought you were mad at me," Wesley said with an awkward expression as if his roommate could see him.

  "I am mad at you," was Cameron’s reply. "But we're still friends. Of course I'd help you, you jerk."

  "Dang, Cam, I—I didn't know. I was," Wesley paused for a very quiet giggle, "scared."

  "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you study during your extra time."

  Then Wesley heard another more distant voice from within the speaker-like curse. "Hey Cam, I don't know how to do this. Can you help me?"

  Afterward, Cameron spoke again, "Hey I gotta go, but—oh yeah, I almost forgot—make sure you have an ace-in-the-hole, a move that no one will expect or prepare for. Do all that and you might have a chance in the Final Exams." Then he called out to the other boy, "Yeah sure, I'll be right there." When he spoke next his voice was low again. "I'll talk to you later, Wes."

  "See ya," the lonesome Wesley said before the curse was deactivated.

  Wesley grunted. Ace-in-the-hole, eh? But what can I use that's like that? He put his hands on his face and dragged his cheeks down.

  "What would Cam do?" He paused for an interruption that never came. "Guess not."

  Then, to get in a more comfortable thinking position, the boy lied back and stuck his feet out on the coffee table, accidentally knocking over two books in the process. He whined as he sat up and crawled over to the books. One of them was on curses that he now saw as useless and the other was the Grimoire. It fell open and onto a page in the five hundreds.

  "What's this?" Wesley thought
aloud as he picked up the large text. He read the upper corner of the page, which revealed the chapter title: Primeval Incantations. Then he read the page, pronouncing the first primeval spell:

  The Spirit of Gaia: originally created before magic's ascension into the light, it was initially deemed forbidden, noted as being too powerful for mainstream use. Later it became approved for superior magi, but fell out of circulation, until it was virtually forgotten by the community. Nevertheless, The Spirit of Gaia is an A-class spell that, if performed correctly, can offer a mage endless possibilities.

  Just after reading the introduction, Wesley was enticed.

  "I think I found my ace," he remarked with a grin.

  Then, enthralled by the idea of one-upping Liam's C-class spell, he rushed to finish the section. As an A-class incantation it was much more complex than most of what he had learned or had even seen. But he also learned that it was remarkably uncomplicated for being such a powerful spell. The text described it as having the necessity of focus, or as the Grimoire put it, "single-mindedness" and it warned against all of those that were interested in learning the incantation, stressing something to do with source, but Wesley had trouble understanding the diction.

  The spell took twenty-eight pages to cover. So just to be safe, Wesley read it four times before moving on. Then, after flipping through his book of Warlock hand signs for more than fifteen minutes, he was forced to accept the reality that there weren't any listings for The Spirit of Gaia. In fact, there wasn't a single reference to the primeval incantation in any of the texts on the table.

  "So this thing isn't anywhere," Wesley said, finding himself hopelessly spread out on the floor. As he came to the decision to give up, he heard a knocking at his door.

  "Who is it," asked the boy, standing up in a hurry.

  "It's me," he heard a tiny voice.

  "Oh, hey Sri.” Wesley came to the door and opened it wide.

  "So... yeah, we decided to check on you every few hours," Sri admitted as she crossed into the dorm room.