the pronouncement. “The Enemy is no doubt preparing another attack for some other valuable place within our border. We’ll make him split his attention. Perhaps they’ll be able to stop us, but I don’t think so. I can hold Cairn inside of two days, and there are other defensible positions I can retreat to if I must. Yes, we’ll make certain the Enemy doesn’t have everything his way.”
To his dismay, Wizard Ethion immediately spoke against him. “No, Theo! We cannot risk it. What if the Enemy simply surrounds you in the field? We cannot throw away the forces we’ve built up here so rashly. We must learn more about this spell before we do anything else.”
“Ethion, the Enemy has a limited supply of both soldiers and magicians, just as we do. They will certainly not abandon Nebeth now that they’ve taken it, and I guarantee you that they are preparing another attack for another place. We can prevent that attack, probably even take and hold Cairn! I have enough men and provisions to withstand months of siege!”
“It is a fine plan, Theodoric,” The Wizard began, and even with the kind words the General’s heart sunk. “But I forbid it. It is too dangerous now, and we have much to lose. Bastion will get word to us soon, I have no doubt. We will know what to do then.”
I know what to do now, Theodoric thought, but it was no use. Even the most junior wizard technically outranked the most senior General, and Ethion was one of the most powerful and experienced wizards Bastion had ever produced. Arguing with him would be of no use whatsoever.
Even when he is wrong, The general thought as he nodded his acquiescence, unable to keep the frustration off his face.
Especially when he is wrong.
Chapter Twelve
Balkan was surprised to see that the latch to his laboratory was undone. There was someone working magic inside, as well. While the room did not technically belong to him, it had been so long since any other wizard had used it that it came as a shock. He pushed open the door and saw a man sitting in the chair by the far wall, near the only window in the chamber.
Darius looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Hello, Balkan. I decided to borrow your room for a bit.”
Balkan returned the smile. “You are welcome to it, my friend. I’m surprised to see you here – have you decided that research is for you, after all?”
Darius snorted. “Hardly. Still, come and look.”
Balkan walked past the bookshelves – many of them filled with volumes penned by Balkan’s own hand – to stand by his friend. There was a sheet of parchment laid on the table, and an ink pot and quill, but nothing had been written down. Darius was worrying at something in his right hand, and as Balkan approached he opened his fist to show that it was merely a pebble, such as could be picked up on any street in Bastion.
“The magic of pebbles,” Balkan said. “An obscure and perilous study.”
“Shush. Watch.”
Leaning back in the aged wooden chair, Darius lay each arm down on the rests. He allowed his hands to rest open naturally, the pebble still cupped within his right palm. Balkan felt magic begin to well up within his friend, centered within the palms of both his hands. The pebble began to wobble ever so slightly, moving seemingly of its own accord as the nature of reality was bent and reshaped around it in ways Balkan had never seen before.
Darius was now commanding a great deal of power, and the effort could be seen in the sweat that covered his furrowed brow. Balkan looked closely, seeing and feeling what his friend was doing, but not comprehending.
With a sudden vortex of energy, the pebble disappeared from Darius’s right palm, and was now in his left. Muscles which had begun to tense under the peculiar strain of working magic relaxed, and Darius suddenly seemed out of breath. Balkan stared in amazement at the pebble, now in the wrong hand. So many new things had just occurred before him, and he hadn’t
To his dismay, Wizard Ethion immediately spoke against him. “No, Theo! We cannot risk it. What if the Enemy simply surrounds you in the field? We cannot throw away the forces we’ve built up here so rashly. We must learn more about this spell before we do anything else.”
“Ethion, the Enemy has a limited supply of both soldiers and magicians, just as we do. They will certainly not abandon Nebeth now that they’ve taken it, and I guarantee you that they are preparing another attack for another place. We can prevent that attack, probably even take and hold Cairn! I have enough men and provisions to withstand months of siege!”
“It is a fine plan, Theodoric,” The Wizard began, and even with the kind words the General’s heart sunk. “But I forbid it. It is too dangerous now, and we have much to lose. Bastion will get word to us soon, I have no doubt. We will know what to do then.”
I know what to do now, Theodoric thought, but it was no use. Even the most junior wizard technically outranked the most senior General, and Ethion was one of the most powerful and experienced wizards Bastion had ever produced. Arguing with him would be of no use whatsoever.
Even when he is wrong, The general thought as he nodded his acquiescence, unable to keep the frustration off his face.
Especially when he is wrong.
Chapter Twelve
Balkan was surprised to see that the latch to his laboratory was undone. There was someone working magic inside, as well. While the room did not technically belong to him, it had been so long since any other wizard had used it that it came as a shock. He pushed open the door and saw a man sitting in the chair by the far wall, near the only window in the chamber.
Darius looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Hello, Balkan. I decided to borrow your room for a bit.”
Balkan returned the smile. “You are welcome to it, my friend. I’m surprised to see you here – have you decided that research is for you, after all?”
Darius snorted. “Hardly. Still, come and look.”
Balkan walked past the bookshelves – many of them filled with volumes penned by Balkan’s own hand – to stand by his friend. There was a sheet of parchment laid on the table, and an ink pot and quill, but nothing had been written down. Darius was worrying at something in his right hand, and as Balkan approached he opened his fist to show that it was merely a pebble, such as could be picked up on any street in Bastion.
“The magic of pebbles,” Balkan said. “An obscure and perilous study.”
“Shush. Watch.”
Leaning back in the aged wooden chair, Darius lay each arm down on the rests. He allowed his hands to rest open naturally, the pebble still cupped within his right palm. Balkan felt magic begin to well up within his friend, centered within the palms of both his hands. The pebble began to wobble ever so slightly, moving seemingly of its own accord as the nature of reality was bent and reshaped around it in ways Balkan had never seen before.
Darius was now commanding a great deal of power, and the effort could be seen in the sweat that covered his furrowed brow. Balkan looked closely, seeing and feeling what his friend was doing, but not comprehending.
With a sudden vortex of energy, the pebble disappeared from Darius’s right palm, and was now in his left. Muscles which had begun to tense under the peculiar strain of working magic relaxed, and Darius suddenly seemed out of breath. Balkan stared in amazement at the pebble, now in the wrong hand. So many new things had just occurred before him, and he hadn’t
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