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The Phoenix Ring(4)

By:Alexander Brockman


Yet they took pity on the boy. "His wish will be granted, and his life  spared. It will be a curse to you all." They said to the vain of the  tribe.

They were transported the easternmost continent of Ariyahn, the land of  forests and plains. They found that they were beautiful and moved with a  grace that even the deer envied, yet they could not lift rocks and logs  that they would have found light before. The boy was healed, and the  first thing he did was pull the illness out of his sweetheart. He found  that he could not simply dispose of the disease, but had to put it  somewhere. He pushed it into the leader who had thrown the spear at him,  who died a day later. The boy set himself up as king, and began to turn  his people into the best healers that have ever lived, yet to the  leaders he showed no pity. And so elves were created.

The third tribe was cunning and greedy. Nothing would satisfy them except to rule over the other tribes.

"We wish that you would give us the same power you have, to make the  ground tremble and the waves rise, to bring fire to life with our  fingers and destroy those who hate us." The Ancients, for the first  time, were afraid.

"Are you sure this is the power that you wish for? It will come with a  curse, and there are many other things you could ask for, such as  wisdom. Nobody has ever asked for wisdom.

But the third race remained resolute in their request. The Ancients  finally and very hesitantly gave them what they asked for. "You will  receive your gift, but you will be cursed as much as the elves. You will  not pass until long after the demise of the other races, but you will  always wage war amongst yourselves, until every last one of you has died  at the hands of another. Yet some of you will never gain the power,  they will be stronger than you in every other way and will never be  under your control."

The third tribe was left on the middle continent, Gurvinite. They were  called human, their power was called magic, and the ones left without  were called amogh."



This man is mad, Aidan thought. And he could kill me with his little finger. I want a knife.

The wizard was currently enjoying watching a line of fire ants (that had not been there before) run over his hand.

Aidan cleared his throat, at which the wizard looked up and the fire  ants disappeared. They did not pop into nonexistence or even fade out.  One moment they were there and the next they simply were not.

"Where am I, sir?" He asked in a small voice.

The odd man laughed. "Why in Fort Phoenix, where else?" he said.

Aidan cringed. Fort Phoenix was where the king's wizards and mages were  sent to train. All Aidan knew about it was that it was high in the  mountains far to the north of Gurvinite, and that the elders of the  village spoke of it as a brutal prison where magic would be extracted  from ordinary folk, leaving them lifeless.                       
       
           



       

The wizard abruptly stood. "Come, let me show you around your new home, here, can you read and write?"

Rose had forced all the boys going through the orphanage to read and write, and Aidan was no different. "Yes sir." He said.

"Well then you can take this," he said, handing Aidan a leather-bound  notebook from somewhere within the folds of his robes, along with a  quill. "And don't worry about ink, that quill will never run dry."

The warlock opened the door, where a boy about Aidan's age was standing.  He had blonde hair and blue eyes, and was a few inches shorter than  Aidan.

"Timothy, I want you to take Aidan out and show him around, try to tell him as much as you can."

Timothy nodded his head eagerly as the warlock shuffled past, leaving the two boys alone.

Aidan stuck out his hand, and Timothy shook it with some vigor.

"It is so good to meet you, Aidan," he said.

"Er, it's good to meet you too," Aidan said, more than a little taken aback.

"How did you know my name?"

The boy went red. "The crack under the door is a little big, and I was standing outside, so I couldn't help but hear a little … "

Aidan laughed, he liked this energetic boy.

"So where do you want to go?" The smaller boy asked, changing the subject quickly.

"Uh, you lead," said Aidan. Maybe there will be a chance for me to run while he isn't looking.

Timothy promptly turned around and began to walk quickly down the hall.  It was a vast structure, with many identical doors like the one Aidan  had just used. Each door had a number on it, the one Aidan had just  exited was number thirty-seven.

Another thing Aidan's mother had taught the boys was simple math, all out of a book given to her by a charitable noble.

"These are the boys' quarters," Timothy said. "The girls' quarters are  on the other side of the camp, to keep them separated from the boys  during later hours."

Aidan was shocked. His idea of a wizard was similar to Amilech or  Malachi, odd, and with a long white beard. Timothy did not really strike  Aidan as a powerful sorcerer, but a girl wizard had never even crossed  Aidan's mind.

They crossed his mind now, and he wondered if they were as pretty as  other girls. No girls lived in his village, but he had met a few his age  as they had passed through. He had never had time for romance. His  focus had always been on joining the Ranger's corps, and he remembered  with a pang that his dream had been forever snatched from him. That  didn't mean he wasn't interested in courting an attractive young woman.

They exited the hall and came out into the open mountain air, which was  refreshingly cool. Aidan saw that there were several odd shaped  buildings scattered across a field that seemed almost too perfect. No  building was the same, and many should not have been able to physically  stand. There was a henhouse that seemed to be made of better quality  wood than most mansions, with perfect white hens milling around outside  guarded by a perfectly golden rooster. There was a cube shaped building  suspended in the air by only one thin leg, with smoke pouring out of it.  However, the most amazing thing was that the entire place seemed to be  encased in a huge, blue tinged, transparent soap bubble.

Aidan realized that his jaw was hanging open, and Timothy laughed. "Do you want to go see the safety sphere?" he asked.

Aidan could only nod.

Timothy started jogging towards the edge of the field, where the bubble  started. It was fairly easy to see through, and there appeared to be a  forest on the other side.

"Go ahead, you can touch it," Timothy said.

Aidan gently reached out and stroked the bubble, half expecting it to  pop. That would be two camps destroyed in twenty-four hours. To his  surprise, it was as hard as steel.

He pushed a little harder, and finally gave it a good punch. And then the wall punched him back.

It wasn't really a punch, but a force slammed into Aidan that knocked  him down. He hit the ground with the wind knocked out of him, Timothy  doubled over laughing.

"Sorry mate," he said between gasps "I should have told you that the  safety sphere fights back. It hits you with twice the force that you hit  it, but I guess you know that now."

Aidan glared at him until the laughing subsided. So much for escaping, he thought.

"Are you done now?" he asked the young sorcerer.

"Just about," Timothy answered. "I think next we can take you to the  mage training area. How much do you know about the levels of sorcery?"

Aidan stared at him blankly.

"Ugh, this might take a while," Timothy said. "We can talk while we  walk. A sorcerer is what we call anyone who can practice magic. A mage  is the first level of sorcery, a mage can do magic with a staff, which  is made of some material with runes inscribed on it, and it has a gem on  one end. For a mage, magic is directed out of the staff.                       
       
           



       

"The next level is a wizard. Wizards can do magic with a wand, which is a  small staff without a gem. The magic is normally directed out of the  tip of a wand, and most sorcerers never make it past the wizard level.

"The last level is a warlock. Warlocks can direct magic with nothing but  their hands. When a wizard becomes a warlock, he has a magic symbol  engraved on his head. There are only three warlocks in the entire camp,  and my master is one of them. Do you need some help?"

Aidan was furiously scribbling in his notebook, and had nearly tripped over a stone.

I do not belong here anymore than I belong in a palace he thought.

Aidan and Timothy passed the boys' quarters. Aidan realized that it was  the most normal building in the entire camp, shaped something like a  chapel, while many of the other buildings should not have even been able  to stand. One building on the other side of the camp was fat and round  and held off the ground by two thin legs. And it was the color of roses.