They said the glare of the afternoon sun had once displeased a Magus, so he waved for the clouds, and they moved to shade an entire town. When the patters of the rain became too somber, another halted the droplets and sent them back to the sky. The endless snow had irked yet another, so he melted the white field and flooded the river.
These were tales to be sung for the children. The drunkards bragged about them as if the feats were their doing. The storytellers spun the whispers with words of grandeur and kindled everlasting fables. A few of the many that the Magi had left behind for the mortals. Whatever the truth might be, however accurate the extent of their legends was, in the eyes of the mundane, the Magi were godly immortals.
And Thorin yearned to be one. He had to be one, for his withering heart was running out of beats. The time he’d borrowed would soon end, and he could only extend it by the means of a Magus. Yet, the recruiter of the Silverfield Guild looked him in the eyes and sealed his fate.
“Ineligible,” the man sitting across the table said, and wrote the same in his register as if to burn him again. The crystal ball had glowed for Thorin, even brighter than many who came before him. The man had even marked him as qualified with his quill after noting down his answers. But when it came to the final decision, he crossed his name with a ruthless strike.
“But sir,” Thorin said, struggling to squeeze his voice out. “The crystal ball, it glowed.”
“Severe external contamination, and extremely shortened lifespan,” the man said. “You’re not fit to join the guilds. It’s better if you make peace and live out your remaining days in quiet.”
Thorin heaved a deep breath and settled his disarrayed thoughts. At least he tried to. If the guilds were out of his reach, he could still strive to become a rogue Magus. The rumors among the mortals marked it a subpar option, but he was grasping at straws here. “May I still complete the branding, sir?” he asked.
“The inception spell is a service only for those who join the guild,” the man said. “We’re done here, leave now.” He dipped his quill into the ink bottle and called for the next in line.
“Please, sir,” Thorin said, sneaking a pouch full of coins over to the man’s side. It even had a single piece of mana shard inside—his precious that he kept safe all these years. “Can you make an exception?” His life was on the line. Nothing was beneath him.
However, what had always worked failed him today, even with all that he owned. Instead of the sly smile, the man’s demeaning scowl greeted him. “Take that away and get out,” the man said.
“My apologies, sir,” Thorin said and lowered his head. Regardless of the outcome, he couldn’t afford the rage of the man before him. Those who recruited Magi must be Magi after all.
He stumbled out of the gloom of the tent and basked under the blaze of the morning sun. Its joyful radiance pricked at his desolation. Before he could even squint against the glare though, the queue of hopeful and eager children shoved him aside with grunts and curses.
If only the crystal ball hadn’t glowed, he could quietly give up and live out the remainder beats of his heart…
Before he knew it, he’d trudged back to his shack. His home was still the way he left it this morning. He closed the door behind him and let the dim embrace of his abode give him some solace. At least he still had a roof over his head for the rest of his days…
No, this wasn’t his end. He could still become a Magus. His flickering flames of defiance tried to become a blaze. Nevertheless, the failure of today had hammered Thorin, and the despair threatened to drown him again. He plopped onto his bed, and the wood complained with a dying creak.
He clutched his hair to let the pain distract him. There was not a strand of grey on his head full of black. The length of hair that reached for his nose carried a healthy and soft sheen and strength at its root. Yet, he who was healthy would die because his ghost heart would fail him. It had let him live all those years ago, yet the same now doomed him.
When his thoughts had nearly faded into a lull, someone banged on his door. “Thorin!” a voice yelled. His whole shack quaked from the knocks.
Thorin grumbled and cursed him out loud before he opened the door. “You’ll destroy my house one day, you fucker,” he said.
Quin laughed and dragged him out, closing the door. “Let’s go eat something. Clay ordered your favorite spicy eggs. It’s on him.” His burly figure supported Thorin as they walked.
“I’m not that weak yet,” Thorin said, breaking away from his grip, and matched Quin’s large strides. “I can still walk on my own,” he grumbled. Despite his words, the presence of his cousins indeed breathed life into his gait. Even in utter despair, he still had these two.
“If only you were more honest,” Quin said, chuckling.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Thorin said when they neared the eatery by the forest. “Bring Clay and go take the test.”
“I don’t want to,” Quin said with a shrug and walked into the eatery.
“Stop dilly dallying, the food’s getting cold,” Clay hollered from his seat and waved at them. Thorin clicked his tongue and joined in as well, taking his seat. He had to convince these two to take the test. He couldn’t let himself be their burden.
“What do you think you’re doing, huh?” Thorin asked with a deep frown. “Are you putting up a show of solidarity? Get your asses over to the tent and take the test.”
“I won't sign the contract. You know that. And without signing, they won't let me join,” Clay said, pouring him a glass of chilled water before finger-combing his shoulder-length hair back. Just like Thorin, the strands of his black hair too carried a fine sheen in the afternoon. Unlike their dark raven shade, however, the sun-kissed bronze hair of Quin stood out when he sat with them. “It’s not like they’re necessary for our goals anyway. Instead, their rules and restrictions would only hinder us. Forget about finding our way back home, we might not be able to even hunt Ghosts for you. Consider it a stroke of luck that they didn’t select you.”
“Yeah, I was so lucky,” Thorin said and stared at Clay for a moment then asked Quin, “What’s your excuse?”
“If you two aren’t joining, I won't either,” Quin said.
Clay chuckled. “We’re stuck with each other then, as always,” he said then asked Thorin. “What do you want to do now?”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“What else can I do? I was already rejected. Even my ever-reliable bribery failed,” Thorin grumbled. “If I want to live, I have to get that inception spell. You two can still make it though.”
“It’s final then,” Clay said. “Let’s hit the black market after we eat.”
“We’re taking the shady spell model route after all.” Quin shook his head. “Hopefully, the spell only fails to work, and we just lose our money. I don’t even want to think about the worst-case scenario.”
“While you were fretting about today’s test, I was out gathering information,” Clay said, shoving his face with a bite of sandwich. “My connection at the mercenary guild has something on the inception spell model. Let’s meet him later.”
“Clay!” a girl shouted from behind, and Clay gulped down the unchewed piece of bread when he saw her.
“Liz,” he murmured.
“What are you all doing?” she asked, stomping over. “Why aren’t you lining up?”
“Thorin did, he got rejected,” Quin said.
Liz glared at Thorin and gnashed her teeth. “Are they not joining because of you? Did you tell them not to just because you can't?”
“Indeed, I’d feel lonely here all by myself otherwise,” Thorin quipped just for the sake of it. Irritating her had always been amusing, for he could get under her skin by wasting just a few words.
“Liz, it’s not because of him,” Clay said.
“I already told you he will fail,” she said. “Why are you so hellbent on failing with him?”
Quin chuckled and slapped Thorin’s arm. “She called you a failure,” he said.
“I’m hurt,” Thorin said and looked at Clay with innocent eyes. “Your girl hurt my feelings, big brother. I must drown my sorrows in some cold ginger ale. Buy me a glass.”
“Is this a joke to you?” Liz slammed the table and growled.
Thorin grabbed his plate of spicy eggs and barely saved them from the thud. But the glass topped and spilled water on his thighs. ‘That’s fucking cold!’ he wanted to yell but could only inhale a sharp breath instead. The ice shards chilled him to his balls.
“Liz, we’ve made our decision,” Clay said, meeting her eyes.
“I hope you don’t regret it.” She stared daggers at Thorin. “This is all you’ll ever amount to. This town is where you’ll die. If you truly care for them, stop dragging them down with you,” she said and stormed away towards the test site with a scoff.
“Aren’t you going after her?” Thorin asked.
Clay sighed as the woods obscured her figure. “No. She already knew my decision long ago, but she still decided to join the guild,” he said. “We could never be.”
“If we become Magi too, we’ll meet again one day,” Quin said.
“I’m afraid the difference in our status would kill any possibility of a relationship. Not that I would pursue it anyway,” Clay said, then patted his hands and pushed his plate away. “Well, breakfast is ruined. Let’s head to the black market.”
Thorin grabbed him and stared at him. “My ginger ale,” he said.
……
Clay’s connection at the mercenary guild gave them the lead in the form of a map for a bag full of coins. The information led them to the peak of the Ashfall Mountain. It was a few hours’ walk since they lived at its foot. But because of Thorin’s cardiac condition, they spent the afternoon on the hike. When they reached the clearing by the cliff that the man had marked on the map for them, over a dozen stares greeted them. Hostility laced some, while some held curiosity. The rest remained on guard.
“Your man in the guild isn’t just your man, it seems,” Thorin whispered, panting.
“I never said this would be exclusive to us,” Clay said.
“We fight if we must.” Quin bared his fangs in a grin, and fire burned in his eyes. “If we kill all of them, there won't be any contenders.”
“Not now,” Thorin said. “Let’s wait and see. If we start a fight against everyone here, we won't win.”
“I beg to differ,” Quin said. “But fine.”
And so, they found a boulder and rested their bums for the time being. They needed to unwind their legs after the hike, especially Thorin whose heart was struggling to beat now.
“How’s your condition?” Clay asked.
“I’ll live for now,” Thorin said. “Though I need to eat a Ghost soon or my heart will give.”
“Don’t worry,” Clay said. “No matter what happens here, I’ll make you a Magus.”
Thorin laughed. “Big brother Clay is so reliable today.”
“I’m always reliable,” Clay said.
“We should’ve brought something to eat with us,” Quin whined. “How long do we have to wait?”
“It’s barely been a couple of minutes,” Thorin said and knocked on his head. “Be patient.”
The mountainous forest welcomed the night earlier than the fields below. Their chatter bled into the darkness when the nocturnals joined the whispers. Yet, they waited without any change. The chill had settled on the peak. Threads of mist lingered around the woods. The glowing eyes of the predators walked the path that they took here. And the patience among the men here truly ran thin. However, with what was on the line, no one left.
“Is this information reliable?” Quin asked. “Your man didn’t sell us to traffickers, did he? I’ve had enough of them for a lifetime.”
“I have precautions in place, don’t worry,” Clay said. “If he dared to do so, he won't see the sunlight.”
“What use would his death be if we’re already fucked,” Quin mumbled.
“We’ll be fine,” Thorin said. “We’ve survived much worse.”
“Something’s happening,” Clay said and alerted the two. A burst of wind passed through the forest and stirred the clearing. The mountain howled with it.
Thorin unsheathed his chained blades, and the rest readied their weapons as well. But before the chaos could snowball, the turmoil hushed. At the end of the silence, a man in white hovered by the cliff, his deep hood shading his face.
“A favor for a favor,” the man said, as the gathered men and women churned with unease and fear. Even the recruiters who came to the Ashfall Town had to walk the earth, yet this man could fly in the sky. He was a powerful Magus, possibly even a rogue one. “Do something for me, and I will give you what you desire.” He hurled different parchments to the groups with a wave of his hand.
A scroll unfurled before Thorin and his cousins, and the slanted words detailed a task. It asked him to sneak across the border and bring two people back from the Shepherds’ country. A dangerous task. He frowned, then shared a look with his two cousins. The guild had already rejected him. And without the inception spell model, Thorin would die. He was desperate now. So, they nodded in his support.
“We accept, sir,” Thorin said and became the first to agree.
“Very well,” the man said and sent a crystal ball their way. “Test your aptitude. If you’re eligible, we can make a deal.”
Thorin had already tested his, and this crystal ball glowed the same when he held it. Luckily, it shined for Clay and Quin as well.
“Do not resist the branding,” the man said, raising and aiming his hand at them.
“Do you accept?”
A soothing voice chimed inside Thorin’s head and handed him the choice. He agreed.
“Branding the
The back of his left hand itched as nicks and cuts intersected on his skin. His blood flowed along those tiny slits and weaved into a complex design. When they’d all connected into a complete circuit, the wounds sizzled, and the blood glowed.
A vigorous wave raced from his hand and coursed through his body. Before Thorin could capture the change, the process ended. The etched ‘spell model’ on his hand scabbed and faded by the second. Soon, as he accepted all the bizarre, the voice in his head turned into glowing words before his grey eyes.
[Branding complete. You are now a ‘Magus’ of Eldeth. Please register your name.]
“Thorin Ashnard Aether,” he blurted in anticipation. This was it!
[Welcome, Sir Thorin Ashnard Aether. I am Eldeth’s Archive.]
[Complimentary first scan complete. Forte—'Spirit’.]
[Initial evaluation of ‘Spirit’ is—‘Average, Class-3.’]
[Affinities: Five branches of Arcana detected.]
[Severe contamination found. Compatibility with the contaminant—Extreme.]
[Life expectancy: 92 years…Error. Functional lifespan: 2 months.]
[Database Uploaded.]
[Severing the link to give the Magus full autonomy…]
[Godspeed, Sir.]
Thorin clenched his fist. The Archive had wished him luck, not life.