Caster's Spell (A Mage Tale Book 1) Read online

  "Whoa," said the overenthusiastic student. "What else?"

  "That just about covers it," Master Rosen said.

  "So what are we doing with the rest of the period?"

  Master Rosen let out a loud expression of mirth, his big belly rumbling.

  "I knew you were a bright one." He guided Wesley over near a building, out of the way of other pedestrians, and stopped. "We're going to play a little game."

  "Seriously? What kind?"

  "Hide and seek," the man said with a cheeky smile.

  "Why would we do that?"

  "I am going to hide somewhere in this city. I won't move and once hidden, I won't use any magic. All you have to do is find me by tracking my source. Now keep in mind, I will be suppressing my power, so you'll have to focus. And you'll have until the end of the period to complete the test."

  "Test?"

  "Yes, you will be graded."

  Wesley groaned. It had only been nine days since the start of this class and it was mostly lecture. He didn't know anything about tracking. He looked down and scratched his brow. "What if I can't find you?"

  He heard nothing but silence.

  When Wesley looked up, he saw that there wasn’t anyone there. He circled around; Master Rosen was nowhere in sight.

  "Okay, you can do this," he told himself.

  He closed his eyes and focused on sensing the powers around him. There was one, a strong force, in his immediate area, just a block away. Assuming that Rosen was too powerful to really hide his source, Wesley ran around the corner, laughing, "Too easy."

  He came to see the back of man about the master's height and build, walking along a small side-street. The only real difference was that he was wearing a blue blazer.

  "Gotcha," Wesley declared as he slapped his shoulder.

  "Ow!" The man turned back. "What the heck are you doing?"

  Uh-oh.

  It wasn't Master Rosen!

  "Um, I was," Wesley was at a loss for words. He didn't know if he should reveal the truth of the situation.

  "You know, I have half a mind to report you." The man pushed back the bottom of his blazer and put his hands on his hips. In doing so, he displayed the tip of a little gold scepter sticking out of his pocket.

  "Oh, sorry about that," Wesley said and glanced down at the scepter.

  Apparently noticing his traveling eyes, the man said, "Hey... you wouldn't happen to be a mage, would you?"

  "Yes sir, I am."

  The man laughed, "Well then, ain't that somethin'. What year are you kid?"

  "First. I'm a G-class," Wesley answered.

  "Yep. I pegged you for one of those." The man leaned forward. "The names Corbin, Corbin Palo."

  "Wesley," replied the boy, before processing the man's name. "Wait! You're a noble."

  The man laughed. "Yeah, but only during business hours. Don't hold it against me."

  After thinking about it, Wesley noticed that Corbin had the same eyes as his classmate, Emily. And without too much thought, his mind drifted away to a blissful fantasy in which he actually knew the beautiful girl that sat two chairs away.

  "Hey," said Corbin. "Are you okay?"

  "Huh?" Wesley said, waking from his daydream. "Oh, yeah. Um, are you Emily's dad?"

  "So you know Emily?" He grinned. "Are you her boyfriend?"

  "What? No, I—uh—we're just in the same class."

  "I'm just kidding with you," he chuckled, almost manically. "No, I'm her uncle. But she's a pretty girl, right? You should ask her out?"

  Wesley turned red. He tried to talk, but failed to create any coherent sentences.

  "Don't worry, I'll put in a good word for ya. You seem like a good guy," Corbin said and patted Wesley's shoulder. Then he stood up tall and rubbed his hairless chin. "So why are you off campus? Playin' hooky?"

  "No, it's more of an assignment," Wesley said, before taking a fast inhale, realizing that the game was still in play. "Which reminds me, I gotta go."

  "Well it's been a pleasure speaking with you, Wesley." Corbin extended his arm.

  "Likewise, Mr. Palo." Wesley shook the man's hand. "It was nice meeting you."

  By the touch of their hands, Wesley finally felt the major difference between Master Rosen and Corbin. Although their sources seemed to be of the same level and the texture of it was just as similar, there was some unexplainable detail that set them apart.

  "Please, call me Corbin. Mr. Palo's my uptight brother. And good luck... on both the assignment and the girl," he said with one more laugh before Wesley turned away.

  Now he knew how to do it. Wesley could sense source signatures. He had been around Master Rosen longer than any other master and now he knew what to look for. So with a calming breath, he closed his eyes and attempted to locate his teacher. He quickly realized that there were a few other source signatures he didn't recognize and one that, for some reason, stood out to him.

  "There you are."

  After thirty minutes of walking, Wesley found him. Although faint, he managed to spot the recognizable source signature and track it all the way to a desolate, filthy area between two buildings.

  He approached an old dirty man, at the place at which the source originated. "Master, is that you?"

  "Who are you? What do you want?" said the old vagabond. The man's voice certainly didn't sound like his teachers.

  "Master Rosen?"

  "I ain't nobody’s master." He didn't look or smell like the man Wesley knew.

  Wesley grunted and took a few steps away. The radiating source was growing more faint. Then he turned around and returned to the tramp. "You are my master."

  "I already told you kid—"

  "I don't care what you said, because I'm not hearing you with my ears. I don't care how you look, because I'm not seeing you with my eyes. I can recognize your source now, Master Rosen." Then Wesley leaned down and poked the man. "And I win."

  The old dirty vagabond giggled and then exploded into laughter.

  "Good. Very good," he said as he stood up. An old piece of piping, lying on the ground, jumped into his hand and transformed into Master Rosen's scepter. Then the man became plump, his clothes began to change, and his face cleaned with altering features. He was Master Rosen again. "Ada-boy, Wesley. I knew you could do it."

  "So is it my turn to hide?"

  "No, let's get back to the school. I want you to learn to recognize the source signatures of your core masters."

  "Why?"

  "Well if I ever get lost, I sure do hope you'd be able to find me. I’m positive they feel the same.”

  Wesley laughed. "Masters can't get lost. They can fix everything with magic."

  "Not everything, Wes. And trust me, we certainly can lose our way."

  Wesley saw that empty look in his master's eyes again. Opting to change to a lighter subject, the young teen asked, "So what about my grade?"

  "Hm." Master Rosen held out his hand for the student to take.

  "Seriously. Did I get an 'A', or what?" said Wesley with a frown, before taking the man's hand and vanishing once again.

  Fruits of Labor

  Following the instruction of the unnamed sentinels, Wesley fought in as many duels as he possibly could over the course of the month of May. He fought so much that he was just one duel shy of Axel's record, or at least that was what Axel boasted. He had already stood on the center platform three times that day, but he would match that record if it was the last thing he did.

  "Savage? Again?" Master Conley said, drawing Wesley’s name from a small magic bucket and showing the first sign of an expression other than anger that Wesley had ever seen. Wesley had always found the bucket fascinating. At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary black waste bin, but in reality it was a way for the students to show that they were ready for a battle. At the start of every day's class, every student’s name was in the bucket. But by the days end, it was usually empty save for Axel.

  "Uh yes sir," the boy said quickly.

  Ax
el leaned over toward his friend. "You sure you got enough source?"

  "I think so."

  "Right then. Best get up hea'," the master instructed.

  Wesley scurried from his seat to the correct dueling position.

  "Hm. Now, who'll be ya opponent?" Conley asked rhetorically. "I don' believe anyone has anymore mandatory duels left on their slates. Any volunteeas?"

  It was drawing towards the end of the class and everyone was either tired or just unmotivated to duel. So the students looked around the room, hoping that someone would volunteer before Master Conley made the decision for them. Ultimately though, no one raised their hand. Even Axel was almost completely empty of source.

  The master grunted. "I'm sorry, but it would seem that you won' be able to tie that record, after all. Well... not unless you'd be willin' to battle me."

  Wesley felt like running from even the suggestion. Benjamin Caster may have been able to hold his own against the cold-hearted Fire Sorcerer, but Wesley had felt the master's source and saw, full and well, the difference in their power. He stepped back with trembling eyes.

  "Or," he heard Cameron from behind him. Then a hand took hold of his shoulder. "I could duel him."

  "Really?" Master Conley said with his fists behind his back. "Do you have any objections, Warlock?"

  Wesley smiled, watching his roommate walk to the position opposite of him. He hadn’t dueled against him in several months and knew that his roommate had always gone easy then. Suddenly, he felt that he understood Axel's drive to fight.

  "No, sir," he said. "This is gonna be great."

  "Good." The master headed for the arbitrating position, whispering to Cameron as he past, "Don' hurt him."

  Wesley stared into his opponent and friend's eyes, which were fixed on his own. Both boys had the same curious, competitive, excited smiles stretched across their faces.

  Then Master Conley dropped his arms. "Duel!"

  Wesley, knowing that he had to control the tempo of the fight, immediately reached out. "Puls!"

  Cameron flew up and over the spell, laughing as he did. Then he reached back with both arms and, aiming his fingers at Wesley, clapped his hands.

  Wesley slapped the ground. Terra Wall!

  But when the Sorcerer's wind hit the wall, Wesley had to roll to avoid being pelted by a piece of his crumbling shield.

  "Nice!" he called out as the Wind Sorcerer returned to the ground. "Try this one! Ignis!"

  Cameron giggled as he lazily waved his hand to blow the flame away. But when he did, he saw that his roommate was no longer standing just before him.

  "I can't believe it!" called out an ecstatic Axel from his seat.

  Then, perhaps sensing a change in the air around him, Cameron jumped back, and avoided a downward whip of Wesley's vine.

  Cameron looked up to his hovering friend. "Clever trick: using the fire as a smoke screen."

  "Thanks," Wesley said. "But that wasn't my only distraction."

  The Wind Sorcerer had just enough time to turn and press against another blast of fire. Although he avoided getting burned, Cameron was blown across the room. Wesley descended to the side of his weasel, which, with Wesley’s added size enhancement, stood three feet at the shoulders.

  "Hurón?" said Cameron. "When did you conjure that?"

  "When, indeed?" said Master Conley.

  Wesley was feeling so good, he could almost hear music. "You ready?"

  "Whenever you are," Cameron invited.

  "Hurón, now!"

  Fire began to smolder behind the creature's teeth as it puffed out its chest, taking in a deep inhale. Wesley reached out and gripped the air. Then he dragged his hands from right to left, repeating the motion over and over again until the hair on his head began to dance.

  Hurón blew a great flame, but before it neared the Wind Sorcerer, it curled into a swirl that in no time developed into a burning tornado.

  "Whoa!" shouted Axel in astonishment.

  Then Wesley pushed his hands forward, shoving the flame-twister at his roommate. It moved slowly at first, but its speed didn't matter. Cameron had no way of getting around it, Wesley reckoned, without leaving "the floor", which would count as a forfeit.

  "Cam," called Master Conley. "Go ahead and end it."

  "It's been fun, buddy!" Cameron shouted over the roaring fire. Then he threw his right hand forward, unleashing a gust of wind powerful enough to uproot a tree. The fire immediately went out and Wesley, along with his conjure, was blown back hard. The wind was sufficient to hold them both against the wall high above the ground. The weasel squeaked as it left in a puff of smoke, back to the World of The Forms.

  Just as Wesley was sure his face was tearing away, the wind began to die down. Then as if never pitted against him, Cameron gently lowered him and ran to his side. "Are you okay?"

  "Ugh, yeah I think," Wesley said checking his face for skin. "I've never seen you do anything that strong."

  "Around you, I've never had to," Cameron replied as he helped him up.

  Then Wesley noticed that for once, the class was absolutely silent without the demand of Master Conley. He started turning red as he looked around to see the scores of eyes perfectly set on him. Then, Axel, being the outlandishly rambunctious person that he was, exploded to his feet in applause.

  "Woot-woot! That. Was. Awesome!!!"

  After a second or two, the rest of the class cheered with him. Wesley laughed, sure that he was dreaming.

  "Wes! Wes! Wes!" they chanted.

  Axel ran down across the floor to the two duelists.

  "Sick fight, man!" He punched the apparent former outcast's shoulder. "You just held your own against the best E-class in the school!"

  "Thanks," said Wesley rubbing at the back of his neck. "But he kinda took it easy on me."

  "Alright, that'll do, that'll do," said Master Conley motioning for the class to calm down. They were silenced instantaneously. "Well done, Warlock. I believe you have surpassed the dueling skill level of the G-class standard."

  A compliment! Master Conley never complimented anyone. Unsurprisingly, Wesley found himself speechless. What could he say?

  "Now then, return to ya seat," the master went back to his emotionless, sharp, and stern nature. "Well done, Cameron. You can take a seat as well." Then he turned to the class. "As we all know this will be our last meetin’. And every yea', as a treat for my class, I give special awards for those who’ve shown outstandin’ performances. Well let's get started."

  The room became an orchestra of whispers and giggles as the students wondered what kind of prizes they'd be receiving.

  "The first award is a potion that is hard to find because it is difficult to create. It is a healin' potion that replenishes source and goes to the student with the best win/loss ratio. With a perfect record of no losses, please come meet me down on the floor... Temperance."

  Some of the girl's friends "woo"ed for her as she made her way down to Master Conley. Axel on the other hand, was less than supportive of the young Witch.

  "She won cuz she only duels during tests," he said to Wesley. "That makes her a coward in my book."

  "Next, I have a Centorian Ring for the student with the most wins."

  Conley went on to say a few more words, but Wesley was distracted by Axel's smile and preparedness to stand.

  "What makes you think it's you?" Wesley asked.

  "What makes you think it's not?" Axel laughed and stood a second before hearing his name announced. "Toldja."

  He walked over to the perpetually hard-faced master and retrieved his ring. Then after shaking the man's hand, the Earth Sorcerer threw his arms into the air and cheered for himself. The class laughed at his clown-like display, but roared along with him.

  "So what's a Centorian Ring?" Wesley asked when his friend returned.

  "It's like the one on your hand, except not as strong and I have to initiate it myself. But there's no limit on time. I can use it forever if I had enough source."

&
nbsp; "Well does it—"

  "Shhhhh!" the student's behind them hissed.

  "Yeah, yeah." Axel waved over his shoulder.

  Master Conley continued, "For the last reward, I will be handin' out scrolls containin' special curses that may prove to be very useful during the Final Exams. The third award goes to the best battle of the yea'. Now for this one, we've decided to take a vote. You needn't write anythin' or cast a physical vote. We've already made arrangements. You need only think of the best fight of the yea' and I will have the answer. Go ahead now."

  The students thought as hard as they could.

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa, shut it down. You don't have to scream it," the red-headed man said and rubbed his temples. "And I'm sorry, but since Cameron is a student instructa, he doesn' qualify for the award and therefore the last battle is barred from consideration."

  "Sorry, bro." Axel slapped Wesley on the back. "Maybe next year."

  Wesley was intoxicated with the joy of knowing that they were recognizing him.

  "I don't care," he whispered. "I'm takin' the most wins next year, anyway."

  The Earth Sorcerer chuckled. "Only if we're in different classes."

  Conley dismissed the class after handing out the curses.

  "So what exactly is next month all about," Wesley asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

  "It's a full month of nothing but free study," said Axel.

  "Why would we get a full month?"

  They entered the throng of students trudging for the door. "You know how today we're taking tests for all our core classes?"

  "Yeah."

  "Well passing them only means that we can take the Final Exams. In other words, they don't mean jack unless we pass the Exams." They walked through the exit. "And from what I heard, it ain't easy." He turned back. "Yo, Cam, you comin'?"

  "I gotta do some paperwork. I'll catch up with you guys later," called the genius.

  Just after leaving the class, Wesley was met with more surprising gestures.