George Mazurek's Blog, page 11
October 29, 2015
The City of Wizards
Hi everybody,
thanks for reading this blog. I have published free chapters from The City of Wizards here, and run a free promo. Free days are over now, but you can get your copy for the minimum price 99 cents at Amazon. I hope you will like it :-)
thanks for reading this blog. I have published free chapters from The City of Wizards here, and run a free promo. Free days are over now, but you can get your copy for the minimum price 99 cents at Amazon. I hope you will like it :-)
October 17, 2015
The City of Wizards - FREE at Amazon
Hi,
if you are interested in this book, you can purchase it for FREE from October 22 to October 25 on Amazon :-) I´m looking forward to read your reviews :-).
Link: http://www.amazon.com/The-City-Wizard...
if you are interested in this book, you can purchase it for FREE from October 22 to October 25 on Amazon :-) I´m looking forward to read your reviews :-).
Link: http://www.amazon.com/The-City-Wizard...
October 15, 2015
The City of Wizards continued...
CHAPTER 3 CONTINUED
“You're a wizard!”
My heart swelled.
“Yes, I am,” she confessed with a hint of sorrow.
She wore her long hair plaited into a single braid falling down her back. Around her neck an amulet made from a dragon's tooth glowed. Her legs were naked halfway to her thighs, where a plain dress with a flower pattern passed around her slim waist and split into two parts to cover her firm breasts, leaving the rest of her body bare...
I swallowed.
Her brown eyes stared at me. They were the same as before but much sharper and a little older. Her beauty was simply beyond man's imagination.
I didn't know where to look first...
She had to anticipate what I felt because her stare was lit by amusement. She touched my hand gently.
“Now look around and tell me what you see.”
“I see...”
Averot'h was definitely not the same as before...
The bridge was the spine of some sea monster and under the bridge a horrible smelling liquid was flowing instead of water. The buildings' walls were crumbling and many houses were reduced to ruins. The streets were covered with dirt and mud; rats swarmed everywhere accompanied by clouds of flies. Sewage flowed freely through the streets. Domes were leaky and the King's spire was fractured in three places, but still stood tall into the air somehow. The Gatherings tower tilted at an angle that denied gravity and even Ka'tan was not without the flaws. Its greyish walls were covered with crevices here and there, but it looked certainly better than both human towers. And above all this devastation Mag'reb shone more brightly and splendidly than ever.
“What, what...”I stuttered in confusion.
“Without Mag'reb the city is only a heap of rubble. The only power that keeps it alive is that of the Warlock.”
“I think I understand...”
I stroked her naked back tenderly from the spine to the slightly protruding shoulder blades. “Aren't you cold?”
I took off my shirt and draped it across her shoulders.
She grinned. “I'm fine but please continue. No, I have a better idea. Let me do it myself...”
Her fingers released the belt on my trousers and they fell to my ankles. I was left in underwear.
Below my feet a soft carpet of grass appeared suddenly.
“I've wanted to do this since we met that first night,” she whispered while her skillful fingers untied the cord that kept the last piece of my clothing in its place...
♠
We stood on Swallow Bridge dressed again, a little tired and ruffled...
“Are you ready to know about yourself?” Elisa asked.
“I have to be.”
She crossed her fingers and a small mirror appeared in her hand.
“So look at yourself.”
I guess everyone experiences a fateful moment in his or her life. And mine was to come when I looked into the mirror...
“You're a wizard!”
My heart swelled.
“Yes, I am,” she confessed with a hint of sorrow.
She wore her long hair plaited into a single braid falling down her back. Around her neck an amulet made from a dragon's tooth glowed. Her legs were naked halfway to her thighs, where a plain dress with a flower pattern passed around her slim waist and split into two parts to cover her firm breasts, leaving the rest of her body bare...
I swallowed.
Her brown eyes stared at me. They were the same as before but much sharper and a little older. Her beauty was simply beyond man's imagination.
I didn't know where to look first...
She had to anticipate what I felt because her stare was lit by amusement. She touched my hand gently.
“Now look around and tell me what you see.”
“I see...”
Averot'h was definitely not the same as before...
The bridge was the spine of some sea monster and under the bridge a horrible smelling liquid was flowing instead of water. The buildings' walls were crumbling and many houses were reduced to ruins. The streets were covered with dirt and mud; rats swarmed everywhere accompanied by clouds of flies. Sewage flowed freely through the streets. Domes were leaky and the King's spire was fractured in three places, but still stood tall into the air somehow. The Gatherings tower tilted at an angle that denied gravity and even Ka'tan was not without the flaws. Its greyish walls were covered with crevices here and there, but it looked certainly better than both human towers. And above all this devastation Mag'reb shone more brightly and splendidly than ever.
“What, what...”I stuttered in confusion.
“Without Mag'reb the city is only a heap of rubble. The only power that keeps it alive is that of the Warlock.”
“I think I understand...”
I stroked her naked back tenderly from the spine to the slightly protruding shoulder blades. “Aren't you cold?”
I took off my shirt and draped it across her shoulders.
She grinned. “I'm fine but please continue. No, I have a better idea. Let me do it myself...”
Her fingers released the belt on my trousers and they fell to my ankles. I was left in underwear.
Below my feet a soft carpet of grass appeared suddenly.
“I've wanted to do this since we met that first night,” she whispered while her skillful fingers untied the cord that kept the last piece of my clothing in its place...
♠
We stood on Swallow Bridge dressed again, a little tired and ruffled...
“Are you ready to know about yourself?” Elisa asked.
“I have to be.”
She crossed her fingers and a small mirror appeared in her hand.
“So look at yourself.”
I guess everyone experiences a fateful moment in his or her life. And mine was to come when I looked into the mirror...
October 13, 2015
Continue in reading Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3 - CONTINUED
When I regained my senses there was absolute darkness and disgusting stink coming from sewage. I felt pain behind my left ear and under my left knee.
But I'm still breathing…
I choked and coughed in the dust filled air. My eyes grew accustomed to the dark. The tunnel was blocked by rubble from either side. And the only sound was that of dipping water.
I'm buried here alive!
♠
After several hours of effort my situation didn't get any better. I managed to move a heap of stones from one side of the tunnel, but it was all in vain. The collapsed roof might extend a half mile or more. My hope of getting out was dwindling.
I'm trapped here. This sewer will be my grave! If only I had some light…
And then something miraculous happened. Right before my eyes a glowing sphere materialized. Its yellow light illuminated the walls and floor covered with dust and fallen stones.
In that light I saw my salvation. The wall on my right was cracked, and there was another tunnel beyond it which has survived the quake. The rift was too narrow for a grown man, so I hammered its edges with a sharp stone until I was able to wriggle through.
There was a new corridor.
And a new hope...
♠
A lonely breeze swept the pavement of Swallow Bridge as the sun disappeared behind the Wall. The city seemed calm and peaceful, but it was the most deadly and merciless place I have ever been to.
Especially for someone like me...
A rustling under the bridge sent my heart beat to a gallop.
Elisa!
I rushed down the stairs and around a corner she bumped right into me.
“I have dreamt about beautiful women falling into my arms,” I embraced her and she chuckled quietly.
Her lavender scent was intoxicating. She raised her palms from my chest to my cheeks, her skin so warm and pleasing that I forgot all about the rest of the world.
“You've got a scar behind your ear,” she said worriedly.
“I'm fine...”
She broke the embrace and looked into my face.
“What happened?”
I told her about my unintended meeting with the duo of wizards and my unpleasant adventures underground. I skipped the last part, where I had to borrow some money from Quasim to cover expenses for clean clothes and a thorough bath.
The story had an unexpected effect. Her eyes filled with tears...
She wiped them with her wrist.
“It's gone too far... I'm going to stop it. I will meet with my father,” she whispered and kissed me.
It caught me by surprise, and I was not able to speak for a while. She was dressed in a very thin sleeveless, knee-length robe and her neck was decorated with an amulet of some kind.
“What is your name?” Her eyes were bright again. “Do you know I couldn't sleep because of it?”
“My name's Syrdan,” I didn't recognize my own voice.
She looked dazzled. “Do you know what it means in the wizards' old language?”
“No.”
“Syridan means strong. Syraedan means foundling. I've expected something like that.”
I touched her hands, and this time she didn't pull away. My fingers explored her soft and gentle skin, and her slender fingers responded swiftly.
I bent to kiss her in a moment when a gust of wind covered her face with hair, foiling my intentions.
She brushed the hair back to shoulders, blushing and laughing.
What a fool am I?
“I'm sorry...”
She shook her head and kissed me hungrily.
♠
“Please, tell me what you know, Elisa. Who are my enemies? Why are they chasing me?” I asked when the world stopped turning.
She nodded. “That's why we came here. From Swallow Bridge you can see the whole city. So where to start... There is an opposition to the King, an opposition to the Council, and even an opposition to the Warlock. Everybody protects his interests by any means. I suspect that there are at least two fractions in the Council according to your story. Well, it's called politics...”
“It stinks.”
“Yeah. The King is a puppet, a clown with a crown. The Council is the third hand of the Warlock and Ver'del the Great is The Great Mistake...”
On the top of the bridge she snuggled to me.
“Are you prepared to learn the truth?”
“Yes, I am.”
But, in fact, I wasn't...
♠
In the eastern sky first stars appeared while the tops of the four spires were flooded in orange.
“Close your eyes,” Elisa said and tied a blindfold over my eyes.
I shivered in the wind.
“What are you doing?”
“Magic.”
That's not funny...”
“Done,” she announced. “You can take it off. And please don't scream.”
I blinked.
And then I gave a scream!
When I regained my senses there was absolute darkness and disgusting stink coming from sewage. I felt pain behind my left ear and under my left knee.
But I'm still breathing…
I choked and coughed in the dust filled air. My eyes grew accustomed to the dark. The tunnel was blocked by rubble from either side. And the only sound was that of dipping water.
I'm buried here alive!
♠
After several hours of effort my situation didn't get any better. I managed to move a heap of stones from one side of the tunnel, but it was all in vain. The collapsed roof might extend a half mile or more. My hope of getting out was dwindling.
I'm trapped here. This sewer will be my grave! If only I had some light…
And then something miraculous happened. Right before my eyes a glowing sphere materialized. Its yellow light illuminated the walls and floor covered with dust and fallen stones.
In that light I saw my salvation. The wall on my right was cracked, and there was another tunnel beyond it which has survived the quake. The rift was too narrow for a grown man, so I hammered its edges with a sharp stone until I was able to wriggle through.
There was a new corridor.
And a new hope...
♠
A lonely breeze swept the pavement of Swallow Bridge as the sun disappeared behind the Wall. The city seemed calm and peaceful, but it was the most deadly and merciless place I have ever been to.
Especially for someone like me...
A rustling under the bridge sent my heart beat to a gallop.
Elisa!
I rushed down the stairs and around a corner she bumped right into me.
“I have dreamt about beautiful women falling into my arms,” I embraced her and she chuckled quietly.
Her lavender scent was intoxicating. She raised her palms from my chest to my cheeks, her skin so warm and pleasing that I forgot all about the rest of the world.
“You've got a scar behind your ear,” she said worriedly.
“I'm fine...”
She broke the embrace and looked into my face.
“What happened?”
I told her about my unintended meeting with the duo of wizards and my unpleasant adventures underground. I skipped the last part, where I had to borrow some money from Quasim to cover expenses for clean clothes and a thorough bath.
The story had an unexpected effect. Her eyes filled with tears...
She wiped them with her wrist.
“It's gone too far... I'm going to stop it. I will meet with my father,” she whispered and kissed me.
It caught me by surprise, and I was not able to speak for a while. She was dressed in a very thin sleeveless, knee-length robe and her neck was decorated with an amulet of some kind.
“What is your name?” Her eyes were bright again. “Do you know I couldn't sleep because of it?”
“My name's Syrdan,” I didn't recognize my own voice.
She looked dazzled. “Do you know what it means in the wizards' old language?”
“No.”
“Syridan means strong. Syraedan means foundling. I've expected something like that.”
I touched her hands, and this time she didn't pull away. My fingers explored her soft and gentle skin, and her slender fingers responded swiftly.
I bent to kiss her in a moment when a gust of wind covered her face with hair, foiling my intentions.
She brushed the hair back to shoulders, blushing and laughing.
What a fool am I?
“I'm sorry...”
She shook her head and kissed me hungrily.
♠
“Please, tell me what you know, Elisa. Who are my enemies? Why are they chasing me?” I asked when the world stopped turning.
She nodded. “That's why we came here. From Swallow Bridge you can see the whole city. So where to start... There is an opposition to the King, an opposition to the Council, and even an opposition to the Warlock. Everybody protects his interests by any means. I suspect that there are at least two fractions in the Council according to your story. Well, it's called politics...”
“It stinks.”
“Yeah. The King is a puppet, a clown with a crown. The Council is the third hand of the Warlock and Ver'del the Great is The Great Mistake...”
On the top of the bridge she snuggled to me.
“Are you prepared to learn the truth?”
“Yes, I am.”
But, in fact, I wasn't...
♠
In the eastern sky first stars appeared while the tops of the four spires were flooded in orange.
“Close your eyes,” Elisa said and tied a blindfold over my eyes.
I shivered in the wind.
“What are you doing?”
“Magic.”
That's not funny...”
“Done,” she announced. “You can take it off. And please don't scream.”
I blinked.
And then I gave a scream!
October 12, 2015
A guessing game
Hi,
what, in your opinion, is book´s ending? :-)
Comment below ;-)
what, in your opinion, is book´s ending? :-)
Comment below ;-)
October 9, 2015
Reading The City of Wizards - Chapter 3
CHAPTER 2 - CONTINUED
To my relief, Lokmi was quietly snoring in the bed with his big nose buried under the pillow, when I returned to Quasim's. I lay down on my pallet and relived the day's events. I longed for her touches, smile, eyes...
Finally, I fell asleep with a feeling that I had missed something important.
What had she meant by a blindfold?
CHAPTER 3
DAY THREE
I woke up much later than I had the previous morning.
Lokmi was sitting on his pallet preoccupied with practicing witchcraft. With the most captivating spell he sent a whooping cough back to himself, and I had to slap his back so he didn't choke.
I think I hurt him a little, so we don't speak to each other once again.
Today's plans included sightseeing in the city and later a rendezvous with Elisa. Surely, the King's spire and the other monuments were even more impressive from a closer look, but my thoughts revolved around her soft and warm hands, smiling lips and wide brown eyes…
At the feet of the King's spire and the Gathering's tower the river of Averot'h meandered like a serpent. I walked up the pathway along the river surrounded by apple and chestnut trees until I stopped by a bay with reeds and ducks for a while. The sun was glittering on the water, reeds swayed peacefully in the breeze. I passed a running man with his dog as I crossed an ancient bridge to the oldest part of the city, a labyrinth of red brick houses tight against one-another. Gloomy underpasses and a number of bridges crossed turquoise waters crowded with boats.
“Hey, you!”
I turned and saw a black wizard with a grey staff just ten steps behind me.
Damn!
I looked around.
We were alone.
I cursed once more.
The wizard came closer.
I stepped backward.
He halted.
“I have orders to bring you to my lord,” he said with a creepy voice.
“And who might that be?”
“The Supreme.”
Martell…
I shuddered.
I must buy some time…
“What does he want from me?”
“He will tell you himself.”
“Why did he send you? Why doesn't he come in person?”
The wizard's eyes were as impenetrable as a wall. It took some time before he answered.
“It's not for you to know.”And in that moment I realized he wasn't telling the truth…
“I'm not going anywhere.”
He beckoned slightly as if he was expecting my refusal. The colors in his eyes began to darken.
“In that case…”
During our exchange I weighed my options. It was obvious.
Escape!
The nearest brick houses were not far away, maybe some twenty feet…
I crouched…
Now!
A shadow fell over my shoulders as another tephir flew over my head!
An incoming wizard was dressed in a sky-blue coat with carmine stripes. His black staff was decorated with a silver spiral triangle.
Both wizards approached cautiously.
“He is mine!” proclaimed the black one. “I have orders from the Supreme.”
The blue one shook his head. “I follow the will of the Council.”
They sized each other up, tephir to tephir, head to head.
“The Supreme rules the council, you know that!”
“Not for long, my friend.” The blue wizard said with a deadly tone. Besides, I have consent from the Great!“
I gathered my wits. The situation was favorable for escape. I waited for just the right moment.
And it came a heartbeat later.
The two foes crossed their fingers at the same time.
Run!
I saw a burst of light and heard a painful scream whilst my legs reduced the distance to the nearest house by ten feet.
The wind carried the smell of blood, and another dreadful yell followed by a flesh ripping sound that made me shiver.
Behind me something very different from a tournament exhibition took place. It was a fight for life and death.
Another ten feet.
And another breeze accompanied by the groaning of a dying wizard.
I slipped into a gap between two walls and squeezed into a hole that led to the city's sewer. I began to crawl feverishly into the darkness, fearing that the wizard who was still alive would use some spell to get me out.
The tunnel branched. I took the left passage heading deeper. The smell was horrible, but I moved on as fast as possible. At another branch, I took the right one.
I've made it…
A second later a quake shook the walls and the tunnel began to crumble…
To my relief, Lokmi was quietly snoring in the bed with his big nose buried under the pillow, when I returned to Quasim's. I lay down on my pallet and relived the day's events. I longed for her touches, smile, eyes...
Finally, I fell asleep with a feeling that I had missed something important.
What had she meant by a blindfold?
CHAPTER 3
DAY THREE
I woke up much later than I had the previous morning.
Lokmi was sitting on his pallet preoccupied with practicing witchcraft. With the most captivating spell he sent a whooping cough back to himself, and I had to slap his back so he didn't choke.
I think I hurt him a little, so we don't speak to each other once again.
Today's plans included sightseeing in the city and later a rendezvous with Elisa. Surely, the King's spire and the other monuments were even more impressive from a closer look, but my thoughts revolved around her soft and warm hands, smiling lips and wide brown eyes…
At the feet of the King's spire and the Gathering's tower the river of Averot'h meandered like a serpent. I walked up the pathway along the river surrounded by apple and chestnut trees until I stopped by a bay with reeds and ducks for a while. The sun was glittering on the water, reeds swayed peacefully in the breeze. I passed a running man with his dog as I crossed an ancient bridge to the oldest part of the city, a labyrinth of red brick houses tight against one-another. Gloomy underpasses and a number of bridges crossed turquoise waters crowded with boats.
“Hey, you!”
I turned and saw a black wizard with a grey staff just ten steps behind me.
Damn!
I looked around.
We were alone.
I cursed once more.
The wizard came closer.
I stepped backward.
He halted.
“I have orders to bring you to my lord,” he said with a creepy voice.
“And who might that be?”
“The Supreme.”
Martell…
I shuddered.
I must buy some time…
“What does he want from me?”
“He will tell you himself.”
“Why did he send you? Why doesn't he come in person?”
The wizard's eyes were as impenetrable as a wall. It took some time before he answered.
“It's not for you to know.”And in that moment I realized he wasn't telling the truth…
“I'm not going anywhere.”
He beckoned slightly as if he was expecting my refusal. The colors in his eyes began to darken.
“In that case…”
During our exchange I weighed my options. It was obvious.
Escape!
The nearest brick houses were not far away, maybe some twenty feet…
I crouched…
Now!
A shadow fell over my shoulders as another tephir flew over my head!
An incoming wizard was dressed in a sky-blue coat with carmine stripes. His black staff was decorated with a silver spiral triangle.
Both wizards approached cautiously.
“He is mine!” proclaimed the black one. “I have orders from the Supreme.”
The blue one shook his head. “I follow the will of the Council.”
They sized each other up, tephir to tephir, head to head.
“The Supreme rules the council, you know that!”
“Not for long, my friend.” The blue wizard said with a deadly tone. Besides, I have consent from the Great!“
I gathered my wits. The situation was favorable for escape. I waited for just the right moment.
And it came a heartbeat later.
The two foes crossed their fingers at the same time.
Run!
I saw a burst of light and heard a painful scream whilst my legs reduced the distance to the nearest house by ten feet.
The wind carried the smell of blood, and another dreadful yell followed by a flesh ripping sound that made me shiver.
Behind me something very different from a tournament exhibition took place. It was a fight for life and death.
Another ten feet.
And another breeze accompanied by the groaning of a dying wizard.
I slipped into a gap between two walls and squeezed into a hole that led to the city's sewer. I began to crawl feverishly into the darkness, fearing that the wizard who was still alive would use some spell to get me out.
The tunnel branched. I took the left passage heading deeper. The smell was horrible, but I moved on as fast as possible. At another branch, I took the right one.
I've made it…
A second later a quake shook the walls and the tunnel began to crumble…
October 5, 2015
Continue in reading The City of Wizards
Lets continue reading, Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Day two
My sleep was merciful and spared me of nightmares. I woke up at the first crowing with my mind filled with questions.
Were yesterday's incidents really accidents?
If not, someone is plotting against me, but who and why?
Who was that girl?
Who am I?
And the last one was the most painful.
Will I see her again?
Of course I didn't tell Lokmi a word of what happened yesterday. He's got his own worries. At the bar I spotted a new wizard with grey sleeves who had to be Yorrel, my new watchdog. He was drinking warm blackberry beer with disinterest, but I was certain he had spotted me too. The room was almost empty except for three stable boys playing cards in the corner. I sat at an empty table next to the bar. Quasim cooked delicious eggs with fried bacon and onion and served it with a tasty gingerbread, but I had only a few bites to eat. Before I left the inn a messenger boy appeared with a bundle. There were clothes inside, certainly expensive, in innocent shades of grey.
I knew immediately where they had come from. My heart leapt.
She hasn't forgotten me...
It was weird. I wasn't used to getting presents and certainly not from girls...
I put the clothes on and to my surprise they fit me well.
I won't complain...
♠
I crossed the doorsill under the pale sky with tattered pink clouds in the east. The city was awakened already.
So let's investigate those beings on tephirs today...
I observed their behavior nearly all morning. They wore their hair long under conical hats or held back in headbands, and only some of them grew beards. Shiny clothes were preferred to plain, velvet to silk. They dressed them up with ornaments or small amulets. Wizards holding public office bore long ceremonial staffs expressing their status. The Ka'tans carried black ones, Council guards grey, and Warlock's staff was white and black. They bought mainly wine, beer, and spirits, and products made of iron or copper. Rumors go that metal repels magic so it cannot be transformed by spells, and wizards cannot touch steel with their bare hands without getting burned.
Except for trade, the worlds of wizards and humans remained oddly separated. I witnessed single event of both universes interacting when a hackney loaded with bags of flour broke the front wheel at Flower Square, and a wizard repaired it with some kind of a stick spell.
In general, wizards seemed quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts as they majestically sailed the sky on their tephirs. I couldn't understand how they kept the balance while turning or accelerating with their silent servants. It is said that tephirs are the only creatures capable of flying beside birds, and this ability is due to their U-shaped spell-bone hidden under their crest. Flying without a tephir was considered impossible. They reminded me of huge turtle shells but I couldn’t see any head, eyes, or legs. Maybe they didn't have any.
I knew the city offered much more than magic jousts. I turned twice to the right and entered the fascinating Clock Square, which heldthe largest sundials in the world. The clock occupied the whole square, and astonished folk walked among purple marks indicating the exact time. Around the square miniatures of the sundials were sold and people were buying them for an unknown reason...
Two hours to noon. It's plenty of time.
I decided to visit another two famous places, Rainbow Gardens, where tulips of all conceivable colors were grown, and Es'chers' staircase, named after a wizard who invented an illusion of eternally ascending stairs.
♠
“Do you know why wizards wear long sleeves?” Lokmi asked when we took our place in the Arena. It was early afternoon, but the Arena was crowded already.
We sat in a different place dressed in different clothes. Lokmi bought new ones as well, so whoever was pursuing me wouldn't find me as easily as yesterday. Moreover, I hoped I could find some clues here.
“Nope,” I said.
“Because spells are ignited by fingers and the long sleeves can hide them.”
“Interesting,” I murmured.
Lokmi is wrong. The Warlock has no fingers, only stubs...
“Just watch the wizard in the red coat.”
The wizard in the red crossed his fingers in a way impossible for a human and his rival on the left began to smolder before he was rendered down. The Red and the White started to circle each other.
Flash! Kabooom!
Thunder hit my ears, and the red wizard vanished in the haze. Skw'r looked around, saw no trace of the red, and spat in front of the white. The audience applauded, and the next trio lined up in the corners.
“It's boring.”
Lokmi stopped clapping.
“That was an amazing spell, you ungrateful lout!”
In the highest stands six ka'tans were watching the combat. None of them seemed interested in my trifle.
“I don't care.”
“Will you grow up already, Syrdan?! How can we be of the same blood?”
I promised my mother we wouldn't fight, so I kept silent. Lokmi doesn't know we are not of the same blood indeed. My mother told me the secret on the morning we left the farm.
She said they had adopted me when Lokmi was too small to remember. I flew in on a tephir, now in Lokmi's possession, a poor boy in a thin blanket with a fever and no belongings except for a piece of paper with my name written on it. It’s all weird because tephirs don't fly with humans.
I think the story is right though. I remember my earliest dreams. Dreams where I fly at night, wind bites me in the eyes, and a strange voice talks to me... Furthermore, my mother explained that she allowed me to leave only because a fire angel convinced her to do so, and I shouldn't be afraid of the eyes of Mag’reb, whatever that meant.
♠
When the day in the Arena ended, the place got crowded as usual, and I was carried away from Lokmi. There was a buzz of tephirs right above my head. The wizards were lucky. The air was immune to traffic jams...
Some woman screamed, I turned, stumbled, and fell into something soft.
A familiar voice giggled. ‘Well, I never thought men would throw themselves into my arms like this.’
“You...” I sighed.
She disengaged. I'm sorry.”
“No need to be.”
“I'm sorry about yesterday...” She grew solemn for a moment. “We didn't have the best day, did we?”
“I did. I met you.”
She smiled and touched my chest. “You are wearing the clothes.”
“Yeah, thanks. And this is for you...”
I gave her a tiny lily which I had picked up at the Flower Square earlier that day.
She went blushing. “Thank you.”
“The clothes! How did you...?”
A slim forefinger touched my lips.
Her wide brown eyes studied my face while her long wavy hair played in the wind. Small freckles covered her skin from a cute snub nose to her chin and snow-white teeth. She had a red birthmark near her right ear.
“So you're a fan of magic truels, right?” she whispered. “You like to watch all the tricks and spells, dramatic effects, wizards falling down to the dust...”
“No. I would prefer to watch you...”
She winked, amused. “Only men are allowed to fight.”
I tried to catch her palm, but she gently pulled my hand away.
“I'm here because of my brother,” I explained quickly. “He wants to participate in the tournament. But I've lost him a while ago when we left the Arena.”
She frowned. “Your brother?”
“Step-brother,” I specified.
“I see,” she replied. “I lost my mother during the tournament as well, five years ago...”
“Did you find her?”
“No.”
Her eyes turned aside. She squeezed my palm. Above the crowd, a wizard on an ashy tephir hovered with a long grey staff in his right hand.
“We have to go...”
“Why?”
“Now!”
She pulled me into a narrow lane and pointed to the wizard. “He is one of Martell's guards. We should clear out.”
“Why? Wizards don't hurt people.”
“You know nothing!” She took my hands and stepped closer so that her robe brushed against mine. “Nothing is as it seems. Take off that naive blindfold from your eyes. I must go now.”
“Wait! When will we meet again?”
“Tomorrow at sunset, under Swallow Bridge,” she said and vanished into the night.
“What's your name?” I asked the emptiness.
And from the dark a whisper came back.
Elisssaaaaaa...
CHAPTER 2
Day two
My sleep was merciful and spared me of nightmares. I woke up at the first crowing with my mind filled with questions.
Were yesterday's incidents really accidents?
If not, someone is plotting against me, but who and why?
Who was that girl?
Who am I?
And the last one was the most painful.
Will I see her again?
Of course I didn't tell Lokmi a word of what happened yesterday. He's got his own worries. At the bar I spotted a new wizard with grey sleeves who had to be Yorrel, my new watchdog. He was drinking warm blackberry beer with disinterest, but I was certain he had spotted me too. The room was almost empty except for three stable boys playing cards in the corner. I sat at an empty table next to the bar. Quasim cooked delicious eggs with fried bacon and onion and served it with a tasty gingerbread, but I had only a few bites to eat. Before I left the inn a messenger boy appeared with a bundle. There were clothes inside, certainly expensive, in innocent shades of grey.
I knew immediately where they had come from. My heart leapt.
She hasn't forgotten me...
It was weird. I wasn't used to getting presents and certainly not from girls...
I put the clothes on and to my surprise they fit me well.
I won't complain...
♠
I crossed the doorsill under the pale sky with tattered pink clouds in the east. The city was awakened already.
So let's investigate those beings on tephirs today...
I observed their behavior nearly all morning. They wore their hair long under conical hats or held back in headbands, and only some of them grew beards. Shiny clothes were preferred to plain, velvet to silk. They dressed them up with ornaments or small amulets. Wizards holding public office bore long ceremonial staffs expressing their status. The Ka'tans carried black ones, Council guards grey, and Warlock's staff was white and black. They bought mainly wine, beer, and spirits, and products made of iron or copper. Rumors go that metal repels magic so it cannot be transformed by spells, and wizards cannot touch steel with their bare hands without getting burned.
Except for trade, the worlds of wizards and humans remained oddly separated. I witnessed single event of both universes interacting when a hackney loaded with bags of flour broke the front wheel at Flower Square, and a wizard repaired it with some kind of a stick spell.
In general, wizards seemed quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts as they majestically sailed the sky on their tephirs. I couldn't understand how they kept the balance while turning or accelerating with their silent servants. It is said that tephirs are the only creatures capable of flying beside birds, and this ability is due to their U-shaped spell-bone hidden under their crest. Flying without a tephir was considered impossible. They reminded me of huge turtle shells but I couldn’t see any head, eyes, or legs. Maybe they didn't have any.
I knew the city offered much more than magic jousts. I turned twice to the right and entered the fascinating Clock Square, which heldthe largest sundials in the world. The clock occupied the whole square, and astonished folk walked among purple marks indicating the exact time. Around the square miniatures of the sundials were sold and people were buying them for an unknown reason...
Two hours to noon. It's plenty of time.
I decided to visit another two famous places, Rainbow Gardens, where tulips of all conceivable colors were grown, and Es'chers' staircase, named after a wizard who invented an illusion of eternally ascending stairs.
♠
“Do you know why wizards wear long sleeves?” Lokmi asked when we took our place in the Arena. It was early afternoon, but the Arena was crowded already.
We sat in a different place dressed in different clothes. Lokmi bought new ones as well, so whoever was pursuing me wouldn't find me as easily as yesterday. Moreover, I hoped I could find some clues here.
“Nope,” I said.
“Because spells are ignited by fingers and the long sleeves can hide them.”
“Interesting,” I murmured.
Lokmi is wrong. The Warlock has no fingers, only stubs...
“Just watch the wizard in the red coat.”
The wizard in the red crossed his fingers in a way impossible for a human and his rival on the left began to smolder before he was rendered down. The Red and the White started to circle each other.
Flash! Kabooom!
Thunder hit my ears, and the red wizard vanished in the haze. Skw'r looked around, saw no trace of the red, and spat in front of the white. The audience applauded, and the next trio lined up in the corners.
“It's boring.”
Lokmi stopped clapping.
“That was an amazing spell, you ungrateful lout!”
In the highest stands six ka'tans were watching the combat. None of them seemed interested in my trifle.
“I don't care.”
“Will you grow up already, Syrdan?! How can we be of the same blood?”
I promised my mother we wouldn't fight, so I kept silent. Lokmi doesn't know we are not of the same blood indeed. My mother told me the secret on the morning we left the farm.
She said they had adopted me when Lokmi was too small to remember. I flew in on a tephir, now in Lokmi's possession, a poor boy in a thin blanket with a fever and no belongings except for a piece of paper with my name written on it. It’s all weird because tephirs don't fly with humans.
I think the story is right though. I remember my earliest dreams. Dreams where I fly at night, wind bites me in the eyes, and a strange voice talks to me... Furthermore, my mother explained that she allowed me to leave only because a fire angel convinced her to do so, and I shouldn't be afraid of the eyes of Mag’reb, whatever that meant.
♠
When the day in the Arena ended, the place got crowded as usual, and I was carried away from Lokmi. There was a buzz of tephirs right above my head. The wizards were lucky. The air was immune to traffic jams...
Some woman screamed, I turned, stumbled, and fell into something soft.
A familiar voice giggled. ‘Well, I never thought men would throw themselves into my arms like this.’
“You...” I sighed.
She disengaged. I'm sorry.”
“No need to be.”
“I'm sorry about yesterday...” She grew solemn for a moment. “We didn't have the best day, did we?”
“I did. I met you.”
She smiled and touched my chest. “You are wearing the clothes.”
“Yeah, thanks. And this is for you...”
I gave her a tiny lily which I had picked up at the Flower Square earlier that day.
She went blushing. “Thank you.”
“The clothes! How did you...?”
A slim forefinger touched my lips.
Her wide brown eyes studied my face while her long wavy hair played in the wind. Small freckles covered her skin from a cute snub nose to her chin and snow-white teeth. She had a red birthmark near her right ear.
“So you're a fan of magic truels, right?” she whispered. “You like to watch all the tricks and spells, dramatic effects, wizards falling down to the dust...”
“No. I would prefer to watch you...”
She winked, amused. “Only men are allowed to fight.”
I tried to catch her palm, but she gently pulled my hand away.
“I'm here because of my brother,” I explained quickly. “He wants to participate in the tournament. But I've lost him a while ago when we left the Arena.”
She frowned. “Your brother?”
“Step-brother,” I specified.
“I see,” she replied. “I lost my mother during the tournament as well, five years ago...”
“Did you find her?”
“No.”
Her eyes turned aside. She squeezed my palm. Above the crowd, a wizard on an ashy tephir hovered with a long grey staff in his right hand.
“We have to go...”
“Why?”
“Now!”
She pulled me into a narrow lane and pointed to the wizard. “He is one of Martell's guards. We should clear out.”
“Why? Wizards don't hurt people.”
“You know nothing!” She took my hands and stepped closer so that her robe brushed against mine. “Nothing is as it seems. Take off that naive blindfold from your eyes. I must go now.”
“Wait! When will we meet again?”
“Tomorrow at sunset, under Swallow Bridge,” she said and vanished into the night.
“What's your name?” I asked the emptiness.
And from the dark a whisper came back.
Elisssaaaaaa...
October 1, 2015
Continue in reading The City of Wizards
CHAPTER 1 - 2ND PART
Oh dear, I could be dead...
I turned. The rabble was getting thicker, driving me downstairs. Whoever had helped me, he was gone.
I thanked my anonymous savior and raised my head to look for Lokmi. He was some ten stairs ahead.
Good.
We met safely on the ground. Lokmi proposed to go for dinner, but I considered it too offensive for my shrunken stomach.
So we split up. Lokmi went to the nearest tavern leaving me to dawdlehome.
At the central cemetery I passed an old beggar, the only one I had seen so far. I tossed a copper dime into his lap.
“You are a true son of your father,” the beggar replied.
The sentence whirled in my head.
My father was in Averot’h?
He died when I was a kid. I didn't know him well, but I never thought he traveled this far.
Strange...
Before the night fell I stopped by a clothing stall and bought a red shirt with blue stripes and a pair of black trousers. I felt ashamed of my tattered clothing. When I was packing the new garments into my bag, I collided with somebody.
“I beg your pardon,” I apologized swiftly.
The wizard, whom I hit, straightened up, and I stumbled backwards in awe. He was more than a foot taller and ages older than me...
In his eyes red mixed with grey in wrath, and then I recognized Mag’reb with the mouth of some terrible beast that attacked me with a blood curdling scream...
It stopped as suddenly as it started. His eyes calmed and the anger was replaced by a surprise. I examined him quickly. He wore a headband as white as his hair and a scarlet robe with golden hemming decorated by a gold chain with intricate filigree. His ceremonial staff was black and white, and as he held it up in the air, I noticed his palms and fingers were deformed.
“We will meet in the Arena, boy,” he said as he mounted the biggest tephir I had ever seen.
He left without haste, only total silence and chilling wind remained.
Who was he?
But that was a silly question.
I knew the answer already...
♠
The bad luck was not over yet.
Not so far from Quasim's inn, on a lively street with bars and pubs, some roof tiles above my head decided to leave their place.
A female voice shouted: “Watch out, tiles are falling!” just in time for me and some other people to jump aside.
That was close...
I shook my head. Living in the city was bringing new risks.
I must be more careful...
On impulse, I decided to take a detour on my way to Quasim's. I turned from the main street to a narrow lane and pretended to be heading westward, while the inn stood southward. I watched forward, backward, and all around me as I went.
I got paranoid...
Nobody was tracing me.
But I didn't look down, and that was a mistake...
I stumbled over a paving slab and felt a breeze in my hair. A tephir flew just inches over my head!
If I hadn't fallen, I would've been hit by an animal as massive as a horse, but much faster!
I was lying motionless with my face on the pavement, while my thoughts were a complete mess.
“Hey! Are you alright?”
My tongue was not able to answer.
A hand touched the back of my neck.
“Get up!” A woman's voice ordered.
I tried, but the world was spinning around like a kid's carousel. I fell again, this time on my back.
Her gentle fingers ran through my hair and touched my face.
“So he hit you slightly, after all,” she observed. “I should have been quicker... You're bleeding, not much though. You were lucky. Can you get up?”
“No. Everything... whirls... I feel nauseous...”
“It's a concussion. You're going to be okay, ” she pulled out a small bottle. “Drink it. It's an extract from sa’ne.”
The potion was awfully bitter, but the world stopped dancing. Colors and contours were back as well as my sense of touch and sight. I felt cold and pain in the back of my head...
“I'm better now. Thanks.”
“So get up!”
To my surprise, my legs managed that uneasy task on the second try...
Though she remained hidden in the shadows, I realized she was close to my age. Her clothes were ordinary with a simple flower pattern, narrow at the waist with short sleeves, but her hair was extraordinary, a dark flood running down her shoulders in the night breeze.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who struggles to keep you alive all day...”
“Why are you so harsh?”
“You deserve it!”
At that moment I knew whose hand had saved me on the Arena's stairs, and whose voice warned me about falling tiles.
“You saved me twice...”
“No, three times,” she bit her lower lip uneasily, regretting what she had just said.
“Three times?”
She didn't respond.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I owe it to you.”
“But you don't even know me.”
“That doesn't matter.”
“I don't understand.”
“As long as you are alive, we have some hope.”
“I don't understand anything! Who is ‘we’? Who wants me to die? And why?”
She kept silent.
“Why do you care?! I'm nobody!” I realized I was shouting at her.
She glanced around.
“You are certainly not nobody!” She opposed quietly. Her tone changed. There was some warmth in it.
“Look...” she stepped forward, but stopped suddenly staring at my apparel. I had changed my clothes half an hour ago.
“Are you completely mad!?” She pointed her finger at my chest and knees. “Take them off! Now!”
I swallowed. My fingers ran through the drawstring. I took off my shirt, but hesitated when it came to the trousers.
She nodded so I took them off as well.
Now I was just in pants. I wavered.
“That's enough,“ she stopped me quietly. Her anger was gone. She murmured something like “Maybe some other time,” but I was not sure.
“Put on your old clothes,” she added hurriedly.
“What's wrong with the new ones?”
“The colors.”
“What?”
“Colors of your clothes are...”
“Forbidden?”
“No. They are ... easy to identify. They attract undesirable attention.”
“Why?”
“You are Mister ‘Why’, aren't you?”
“I just want an explanation!”
“OK… Once there was a man who was an enemy of the present Warlock and the present Council, and his favorite colors were just like yours. That's all.”
“I see. I'm just a peasant boy, though.”
“No, you are not...”
Warmth again.
“Where are you staying?”
“At Quasim's inn.”
She nodded. “I know where that is. Does anybody else know?”
“I don't think so.”
“Fine. They tried and they failed, and that gives us some time before they come up with another plan. I will send a watchdog to Quasim's, just to be sure, anyway. His name is Yorrel, in case you need help.”
They?
“It shouldn't have happened this way,” she said sadly and turned to leave.
“Hey! Don't go!”
I studied her eyes, chin, and restless hair, the way she moved her hands... I touched her palms with my fingertips. Her fingers wrapped around mine.
And seconds later she was gone...
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Oh dear, I could be dead...
I turned. The rabble was getting thicker, driving me downstairs. Whoever had helped me, he was gone.
I thanked my anonymous savior and raised my head to look for Lokmi. He was some ten stairs ahead.
Good.
We met safely on the ground. Lokmi proposed to go for dinner, but I considered it too offensive for my shrunken stomach.
So we split up. Lokmi went to the nearest tavern leaving me to dawdlehome.
At the central cemetery I passed an old beggar, the only one I had seen so far. I tossed a copper dime into his lap.
“You are a true son of your father,” the beggar replied.
The sentence whirled in my head.
My father was in Averot’h?
He died when I was a kid. I didn't know him well, but I never thought he traveled this far.
Strange...
Before the night fell I stopped by a clothing stall and bought a red shirt with blue stripes and a pair of black trousers. I felt ashamed of my tattered clothing. When I was packing the new garments into my bag, I collided with somebody.
“I beg your pardon,” I apologized swiftly.
The wizard, whom I hit, straightened up, and I stumbled backwards in awe. He was more than a foot taller and ages older than me...
In his eyes red mixed with grey in wrath, and then I recognized Mag’reb with the mouth of some terrible beast that attacked me with a blood curdling scream...
It stopped as suddenly as it started. His eyes calmed and the anger was replaced by a surprise. I examined him quickly. He wore a headband as white as his hair and a scarlet robe with golden hemming decorated by a gold chain with intricate filigree. His ceremonial staff was black and white, and as he held it up in the air, I noticed his palms and fingers were deformed.
“We will meet in the Arena, boy,” he said as he mounted the biggest tephir I had ever seen.
He left without haste, only total silence and chilling wind remained.
Who was he?
But that was a silly question.
I knew the answer already...
♠
The bad luck was not over yet.
Not so far from Quasim's inn, on a lively street with bars and pubs, some roof tiles above my head decided to leave their place.
A female voice shouted: “Watch out, tiles are falling!” just in time for me and some other people to jump aside.
That was close...
I shook my head. Living in the city was bringing new risks.
I must be more careful...
On impulse, I decided to take a detour on my way to Quasim's. I turned from the main street to a narrow lane and pretended to be heading westward, while the inn stood southward. I watched forward, backward, and all around me as I went.
I got paranoid...
Nobody was tracing me.
But I didn't look down, and that was a mistake...
I stumbled over a paving slab and felt a breeze in my hair. A tephir flew just inches over my head!
If I hadn't fallen, I would've been hit by an animal as massive as a horse, but much faster!
I was lying motionless with my face on the pavement, while my thoughts were a complete mess.
“Hey! Are you alright?”
My tongue was not able to answer.
A hand touched the back of my neck.
“Get up!” A woman's voice ordered.
I tried, but the world was spinning around like a kid's carousel. I fell again, this time on my back.
Her gentle fingers ran through my hair and touched my face.
“So he hit you slightly, after all,” she observed. “I should have been quicker... You're bleeding, not much though. You were lucky. Can you get up?”
“No. Everything... whirls... I feel nauseous...”
“It's a concussion. You're going to be okay, ” she pulled out a small bottle. “Drink it. It's an extract from sa’ne.”
The potion was awfully bitter, but the world stopped dancing. Colors and contours were back as well as my sense of touch and sight. I felt cold and pain in the back of my head...
“I'm better now. Thanks.”
“So get up!”
To my surprise, my legs managed that uneasy task on the second try...
Though she remained hidden in the shadows, I realized she was close to my age. Her clothes were ordinary with a simple flower pattern, narrow at the waist with short sleeves, but her hair was extraordinary, a dark flood running down her shoulders in the night breeze.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who struggles to keep you alive all day...”
“Why are you so harsh?”
“You deserve it!”
At that moment I knew whose hand had saved me on the Arena's stairs, and whose voice warned me about falling tiles.
“You saved me twice...”
“No, three times,” she bit her lower lip uneasily, regretting what she had just said.
“Three times?”
She didn't respond.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I owe it to you.”
“But you don't even know me.”
“That doesn't matter.”
“I don't understand.”
“As long as you are alive, we have some hope.”
“I don't understand anything! Who is ‘we’? Who wants me to die? And why?”
She kept silent.
“Why do you care?! I'm nobody!” I realized I was shouting at her.
She glanced around.
“You are certainly not nobody!” She opposed quietly. Her tone changed. There was some warmth in it.
“Look...” she stepped forward, but stopped suddenly staring at my apparel. I had changed my clothes half an hour ago.
“Are you completely mad!?” She pointed her finger at my chest and knees. “Take them off! Now!”
I swallowed. My fingers ran through the drawstring. I took off my shirt, but hesitated when it came to the trousers.
She nodded so I took them off as well.
Now I was just in pants. I wavered.
“That's enough,“ she stopped me quietly. Her anger was gone. She murmured something like “Maybe some other time,” but I was not sure.
“Put on your old clothes,” she added hurriedly.
“What's wrong with the new ones?”
“The colors.”
“What?”
“Colors of your clothes are...”
“Forbidden?”
“No. They are ... easy to identify. They attract undesirable attention.”
“Why?”
“You are Mister ‘Why’, aren't you?”
“I just want an explanation!”
“OK… Once there was a man who was an enemy of the present Warlock and the present Council, and his favorite colors were just like yours. That's all.”
“I see. I'm just a peasant boy, though.”
“No, you are not...”
Warmth again.
“Where are you staying?”
“At Quasim's inn.”
She nodded. “I know where that is. Does anybody else know?”
“I don't think so.”
“Fine. They tried and they failed, and that gives us some time before they come up with another plan. I will send a watchdog to Quasim's, just to be sure, anyway. His name is Yorrel, in case you need help.”
They?
“It shouldn't have happened this way,” she said sadly and turned to leave.
“Hey! Don't go!”
I studied her eyes, chin, and restless hair, the way she moved her hands... I touched her palms with my fingertips. Her fingers wrapped around mine.
And seconds later she was gone...
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September 29, 2015
The City of Wizards - Chapter 1
Hi, let´s continue reading the book...
CHAPTER 1
Day one
We approached a drawbridge under a chalk white donjon tower. At its saw-toothed top, white and red flags flew in the wind.
The southern gate was guarded by two royal armigers with the city's coat of arms on their chests. Averoth’s emblem, two shaking hands on white and red background, symbolized peaceful coexistence of the two races sharing the city.
Our mules stepped onto the paved road inside the city with kicking and irritated brays, but after a while they calmed down. The streets were so broad that three carriages could ride side by side, and the buildings rose so tall that their rooftops almost touched the skies.
We found lodging at an inn overgrown with ivy except for its wine-colored doors and window shutters.
“Blessings to your house,” Lokmi greeted Quasim, a dumpy human innkeeper with a moustache behind the bar.
“And yours as well,” replied the man. “I'm at your service...”
“We are going to stay for a week,” my brother said, “we'll pay for beds and breakfast.”
“You are welcome, dear noblemen. The price is ten copper dimes for a room.”
Lokmi paid the amount. “By the way, how far is the Arena?”
“One hour by foot, sir.” Quasim caught sight of his brother's largest piece of luggage, wrapped carelessly in a grey spotted sheet not much cleaner than our clothes. “Or ten times faster with a tephir. Would you care for something to eat or drink?”
“Maybe later. At the moment we need a rest.”
Lokmi turned to me grinning and poked his elbow into my ribs. “Let's sleep for an hour and then visit the city, Syrdan. I can't wait to see the tournament!”
I sighed.
He is like a child...
Quasim took off an oily apron. “Please, follow me...”
We crossed the bar room crowded with a noisy mess of humans and wizards and climbed an iron ladder to the second floor. Quasim gave a nod to the first bedroom on the right. Inside we found two old pallets, a wardrobe standing on a worn out carpet, stained walls and a window with a broken windowpane. There was a stinky chamber pot lying in a corner. This was the maximum luxury we could afford...
Lokmi flopped down onto the nearest pallet, arranged his haversack under his nape, and fell asleep with a delightful smile.
I sat down on the opposite pallet. Well, it's easy to say ‘take a nap’ when your bed lies in the heart of Averot’h!
I took a long glance out of the window.
The four tallest spires were known to me from my mother's telling. The white one with a black top was the mythical Mag’reb, the seat of a Warlock, the mightiest wizard under the sun. The golden King's Spire of Rodan the Third glowed so brightly that my eyes began to weep. Council's tower, called Ka’tan, seemed to absorb all of the coming light with its ash-grey dragon scale-like surface. The Gatherings tower of city lords was the lowest but still magnificent in its silver-scarlet attire.
The Four represented the powers ruling Averot’h. Both worlds, human and magical, took care of their own business separately, but in the matters concerning the whole city the two sides had an equal number of votes and followed the famous Rikard's Convention, a two centuries old peace treaty between humans and wizards.
I wonder how it works... Lokmi and I are two as well, but we can't agree on anything...
♠
Mag’reb...
For children and wizard infants the mere mention of the tower was a more powerful incantation than any other. No human foot, not even that of a king, had ever stepped inside. Only members of the Council knew what it harbored indoors. It stood over the city like a spear, touching the clouds on rainy days. Of all of the towers, Mag’reb was the highest.
I leaned out of the window of the inn and looked down upon the streets and markets below. My movement disturbed a flock of pigeons. They flew from the rafters and soared to the north. Out of the shade of Ka’tan a raven emerged and attacked the flock from behind. Feathers burst in the air and the raven dove to the ground with a bird in his claws.
I couldn't expel the disturbing scene from my mind.
“Syrdan, where are you?” My brother's sleepy voice interrupted my thoughts. “It's time to go!”
I turned from the window unwillingly.
“I'm coming...”
♠
“What do you think? Does it suit me?” Lokmi put on a cone hat with silver stars in his favorite colour of ripe plums.
We had stopped at a clothes shop on a lively street. Kids ran here and there under burly sycamores. Adolescents played hunger games with small balls of bread while adults were busy trading and exchanging all sorts of goods. In the shadows of the trees, old men and women were relaxing. Above them, wizards flew calmly on their tephirs, magical beasts, half things and half animals. Lokmi owns an old tephir as well, but he can't fly it properly, so he prefers walking.
“It's awful,” I commented, “one would confuse you with an owl...”
Lokmi looked hurt. “Every true wizard wears such a hat!”
“Perhaps they use some spell, which makes them look great...”
My brother's expression got even more pitiful. He threw the hat back in merchant's hands.
“Let's go!”
Lokmi does not master many spells. If my memory is correct, I have seen only one. He changed a red apple into something that looked like a red pear with a loathsome taste... I really doubt his success at the tournament...
“Move on, you lazy goat!” Lokmi pushed me further.
We passed stalls with carpets, quilts, flowers, spices, wooden tools, fish, and birds before we got to wizards' fruits and vegetables. These articles clearly demonstrated a practical side of wizards' magic. They offered transparent watermelons so one could see inside whether it was ripe. Carrots which were so soft that even a toothless old man could eat them, and potatoes had a tasty skin so they needn't be peeled.
“What is it?” I pointed to a finger-like rainbow sprout.
“It's called sa’ne, young lord,” replied a seller-wizard in perfect human speech.
His eyes were all black without a trace of white and he wore dreadlocks with green and yellow beads in his hair. He stared at me closely. “It is used to dispel fatigue or to heal wounds. You eat it and you can work for a week without a rest.”
In humans' eyes white surrounds the pupil, but wizards' eyes are compact and change colors to reflect different emotions. In Lokmi's eyes brown pupils are hemmed by a light grey so the final impression is both wizard and a man.
“Don't be silly!” My brother whispered and pulled my sleeve away. “Do you know how much it costs?”
I shrugged my shoulders to the merchant in apology. “Thank you anyway…”
The man bowed twice. “You are welcome, my lord.”
I was stunned by his respect for an ordinary boy.
“Don't keep us, we must go to the Arena before it's too late,” Lokmi hurried me.
I left the merchant reluctantly.
“Did you notice his politeness?” I asked. “I like the way wizards behave to humans. They show us respect so both races can live here together in peace and harmony.”
“No surprise at all,” Lokmi hinted. “We need each other. It's time to teach you a business lesson, brother. Consider wine, for example. Wizards like wine, but grapes can't grow on the north side of the wall, so they buy them here from some human grower and pay by a spell which increases harvests, thus all parties are satisfied at the end. Look at that!”
I stopped, dazzled completely.
This is the Arena!
The magical structure didn't look like any other building I'd seen before. White as ivory, it arched sixty feet from the ground, but its facade was not constructed by any means. The entrance to the Arena was nothing less than a rib cage of a giant dragon!
♠
From dragon's ribs blossoms of all colors were pouring down like a waterfall.
Amusing welcome-spell indeed...
When we plunged into the flow, I recognized that at least some of the blooms were genuine. I tried to catch a rose but in vain.
We climbed a staircase while sounds of drums and flutes filled the air. An elderly wizard, all in white, stood up at the highest point and struck the ground with his staff.
The music stopped.
“Bai’le!” The wizard pronounced the word so that it could be heard miles away.
“That word means begin in wizards' language,” Lokmi whispered reverently. “The tournament is open.”
♠
The wooden seats in the Arena are not very comfortable, but it's not important. One has a nice view of the plain below, and that is important.
We sat in the human section next to a fat man; behind us a long-haired girl took her place. Empty rows were occupied quickly. I tried to count all of the seats, but I gave up at three hundred and twenty six, though I had counted one tenth of the auditorium only...
Meanwhile, Lokmi explained the system of the competition. Unlike duels, fights of two, magical combats are truels, which means three wizards battle at once. The ground plan of the Arena is triangular, and each corner belongs to one wizard. The truel has some advantages. The fight is more fierce and complex; it enables the formation of alliances of two against one, which means a stronger wizard may be defeated by two inferiors.
But it also endorses wickedness and treachery...
A wizard can attack an arbitrary opponent anytime and in any manner (with the exception of death-spells), and the victor advances to the next round until a winner of the tournament is celebrated by the crowd. At the end of the day all spells are undone by the Universal Restoration Spell, thus no one is truly harmed. Help from outside is strictly forbidden and is punishable by death. The winner is offered an honorary seat of the Council, and he can even challenge a Warlock, but this is just plain theory. No one challenges a Warlock. His power is incomprehensible even for the most experienced wizards.
I confess, without my brother's explanations I would be completely lost. I saw a truel where a wizard left his corner without any reason, but Lokmi pointed out that the wizard was a victim of a tricky indifference spell. In the following truel a bald-headed wizard incapacitated his rivals with a stabbing spell. Opponents were sent to the ground bleeding, and I have noticed wizards' blood was the same as mine. In another truel an older wizard cleverly deflected an incoming spell, it hit his third rival, who fell to the ground with a painful muscle cramp and was forced to shout: “Abandon!”, meaning his tournament days were over.
“Did you see that?” Lokmi asked. “That was a true masterpiece!”
In the next truel a young wizard in green and red performed funny spells for the audience's amusement. He transformed his first rival into a toad and the second into a puddle of water. When the frog leapt into the puddle with a loud croak, the stands exploded with laughter.
A small dragon-like lizard called Skw’r spat his flammable saliva at the victor's feet, and this meant the next round was coming soon. It was a spectacular show without any doubt...
Humans applauded and wizards bowed their heads and whistled in appreciation whenever a successful piece of magic dazzled the playing field.
Only the highest stands on the wizards' side kept silent. It was a place of the thirteen Council members, or ka’tans in short. Their longcoats were clipped with spiral triangles, the insignia of the Council. They leaned on their black ceremonial staffs while watching the action below. Some called them half-warlocks due to their immense power and influence. They represented the will of all wizards in Averot’h. And at the end of the row Martell the Burned, the supreme ka’tan and Council's head, occupied a special chair coated in red baize with high armrests inlaid with silver.
Only a short glance toward him sent shivers down my spine. He was an incarnation of a devil itself. Even his long crimson hair couldn't hide the black-burned half of his face. The way he slouched in his seat reminded me of an eagle ready to catch its prey...
“The wound on his face is due to Gael the Just, the overthrown Warlock.” Lokmi was reading my mind. “In the memorable challenge some twenty five years ago, Gael was defeated and sent into nonexistence by Ver’del the Great, the present Warlock. Martell became the supreme of the Council then. Only the most respectable wizards sit in the Council. Maybe one day I'll be promoted to the Council too. But it's not easy, though. One must pass the Trial of the Three Elements, earth, fire and water, which is extremely difficult and dangerous because those who fail are sent into nonexistence. Tomorrow and the next day I'll practice some useful magic and then I'm going to enter the last truel of the first round.”
Somewhere deep inside I hoped he would change his mind and withdraw from the tournament after all that splendid witchcraft we experienced today, but he is as stubborn as a mule.
At least I was relieved by knowing the defeated wizards were not harmed. I had only one brother, annoying at times, but I liked him nevertheless...
♠
At dusk the show was over and the crowd headed towards the steep staircases on the Arena’s outer edge. Suddenly, the wooden stairs under my boots cracked, and in a split second I was falling through the stairs to the ground some forty feet below. A hand caught me and I grabbed the banister on my right and regain my footing again, sweating and shivering.
Oh dear, I could be dead...
CHAPTER 1
Day one
We approached a drawbridge under a chalk white donjon tower. At its saw-toothed top, white and red flags flew in the wind.
The southern gate was guarded by two royal armigers with the city's coat of arms on their chests. Averoth’s emblem, two shaking hands on white and red background, symbolized peaceful coexistence of the two races sharing the city.
Our mules stepped onto the paved road inside the city with kicking and irritated brays, but after a while they calmed down. The streets were so broad that three carriages could ride side by side, and the buildings rose so tall that their rooftops almost touched the skies.
We found lodging at an inn overgrown with ivy except for its wine-colored doors and window shutters.
“Blessings to your house,” Lokmi greeted Quasim, a dumpy human innkeeper with a moustache behind the bar.
“And yours as well,” replied the man. “I'm at your service...”
“We are going to stay for a week,” my brother said, “we'll pay for beds and breakfast.”
“You are welcome, dear noblemen. The price is ten copper dimes for a room.”
Lokmi paid the amount. “By the way, how far is the Arena?”
“One hour by foot, sir.” Quasim caught sight of his brother's largest piece of luggage, wrapped carelessly in a grey spotted sheet not much cleaner than our clothes. “Or ten times faster with a tephir. Would you care for something to eat or drink?”
“Maybe later. At the moment we need a rest.”
Lokmi turned to me grinning and poked his elbow into my ribs. “Let's sleep for an hour and then visit the city, Syrdan. I can't wait to see the tournament!”
I sighed.
He is like a child...
Quasim took off an oily apron. “Please, follow me...”
We crossed the bar room crowded with a noisy mess of humans and wizards and climbed an iron ladder to the second floor. Quasim gave a nod to the first bedroom on the right. Inside we found two old pallets, a wardrobe standing on a worn out carpet, stained walls and a window with a broken windowpane. There was a stinky chamber pot lying in a corner. This was the maximum luxury we could afford...
Lokmi flopped down onto the nearest pallet, arranged his haversack under his nape, and fell asleep with a delightful smile.
I sat down on the opposite pallet. Well, it's easy to say ‘take a nap’ when your bed lies in the heart of Averot’h!
I took a long glance out of the window.
The four tallest spires were known to me from my mother's telling. The white one with a black top was the mythical Mag’reb, the seat of a Warlock, the mightiest wizard under the sun. The golden King's Spire of Rodan the Third glowed so brightly that my eyes began to weep. Council's tower, called Ka’tan, seemed to absorb all of the coming light with its ash-grey dragon scale-like surface. The Gatherings tower of city lords was the lowest but still magnificent in its silver-scarlet attire.
The Four represented the powers ruling Averot’h. Both worlds, human and magical, took care of their own business separately, but in the matters concerning the whole city the two sides had an equal number of votes and followed the famous Rikard's Convention, a two centuries old peace treaty between humans and wizards.
I wonder how it works... Lokmi and I are two as well, but we can't agree on anything...
♠
Mag’reb...
For children and wizard infants the mere mention of the tower was a more powerful incantation than any other. No human foot, not even that of a king, had ever stepped inside. Only members of the Council knew what it harbored indoors. It stood over the city like a spear, touching the clouds on rainy days. Of all of the towers, Mag’reb was the highest.
I leaned out of the window of the inn and looked down upon the streets and markets below. My movement disturbed a flock of pigeons. They flew from the rafters and soared to the north. Out of the shade of Ka’tan a raven emerged and attacked the flock from behind. Feathers burst in the air and the raven dove to the ground with a bird in his claws.
I couldn't expel the disturbing scene from my mind.
“Syrdan, where are you?” My brother's sleepy voice interrupted my thoughts. “It's time to go!”
I turned from the window unwillingly.
“I'm coming...”
♠
“What do you think? Does it suit me?” Lokmi put on a cone hat with silver stars in his favorite colour of ripe plums.
We had stopped at a clothes shop on a lively street. Kids ran here and there under burly sycamores. Adolescents played hunger games with small balls of bread while adults were busy trading and exchanging all sorts of goods. In the shadows of the trees, old men and women were relaxing. Above them, wizards flew calmly on their tephirs, magical beasts, half things and half animals. Lokmi owns an old tephir as well, but he can't fly it properly, so he prefers walking.
“It's awful,” I commented, “one would confuse you with an owl...”
Lokmi looked hurt. “Every true wizard wears such a hat!”
“Perhaps they use some spell, which makes them look great...”
My brother's expression got even more pitiful. He threw the hat back in merchant's hands.
“Let's go!”
Lokmi does not master many spells. If my memory is correct, I have seen only one. He changed a red apple into something that looked like a red pear with a loathsome taste... I really doubt his success at the tournament...
“Move on, you lazy goat!” Lokmi pushed me further.
We passed stalls with carpets, quilts, flowers, spices, wooden tools, fish, and birds before we got to wizards' fruits and vegetables. These articles clearly demonstrated a practical side of wizards' magic. They offered transparent watermelons so one could see inside whether it was ripe. Carrots which were so soft that even a toothless old man could eat them, and potatoes had a tasty skin so they needn't be peeled.
“What is it?” I pointed to a finger-like rainbow sprout.
“It's called sa’ne, young lord,” replied a seller-wizard in perfect human speech.
His eyes were all black without a trace of white and he wore dreadlocks with green and yellow beads in his hair. He stared at me closely. “It is used to dispel fatigue or to heal wounds. You eat it and you can work for a week without a rest.”
In humans' eyes white surrounds the pupil, but wizards' eyes are compact and change colors to reflect different emotions. In Lokmi's eyes brown pupils are hemmed by a light grey so the final impression is both wizard and a man.
“Don't be silly!” My brother whispered and pulled my sleeve away. “Do you know how much it costs?”
I shrugged my shoulders to the merchant in apology. “Thank you anyway…”
The man bowed twice. “You are welcome, my lord.”
I was stunned by his respect for an ordinary boy.
“Don't keep us, we must go to the Arena before it's too late,” Lokmi hurried me.
I left the merchant reluctantly.
“Did you notice his politeness?” I asked. “I like the way wizards behave to humans. They show us respect so both races can live here together in peace and harmony.”
“No surprise at all,” Lokmi hinted. “We need each other. It's time to teach you a business lesson, brother. Consider wine, for example. Wizards like wine, but grapes can't grow on the north side of the wall, so they buy them here from some human grower and pay by a spell which increases harvests, thus all parties are satisfied at the end. Look at that!”
I stopped, dazzled completely.
This is the Arena!
The magical structure didn't look like any other building I'd seen before. White as ivory, it arched sixty feet from the ground, but its facade was not constructed by any means. The entrance to the Arena was nothing less than a rib cage of a giant dragon!
♠
From dragon's ribs blossoms of all colors were pouring down like a waterfall.
Amusing welcome-spell indeed...
When we plunged into the flow, I recognized that at least some of the blooms were genuine. I tried to catch a rose but in vain.
We climbed a staircase while sounds of drums and flutes filled the air. An elderly wizard, all in white, stood up at the highest point and struck the ground with his staff.
The music stopped.
“Bai’le!” The wizard pronounced the word so that it could be heard miles away.
“That word means begin in wizards' language,” Lokmi whispered reverently. “The tournament is open.”
♠
The wooden seats in the Arena are not very comfortable, but it's not important. One has a nice view of the plain below, and that is important.
We sat in the human section next to a fat man; behind us a long-haired girl took her place. Empty rows were occupied quickly. I tried to count all of the seats, but I gave up at three hundred and twenty six, though I had counted one tenth of the auditorium only...
Meanwhile, Lokmi explained the system of the competition. Unlike duels, fights of two, magical combats are truels, which means three wizards battle at once. The ground plan of the Arena is triangular, and each corner belongs to one wizard. The truel has some advantages. The fight is more fierce and complex; it enables the formation of alliances of two against one, which means a stronger wizard may be defeated by two inferiors.
But it also endorses wickedness and treachery...
A wizard can attack an arbitrary opponent anytime and in any manner (with the exception of death-spells), and the victor advances to the next round until a winner of the tournament is celebrated by the crowd. At the end of the day all spells are undone by the Universal Restoration Spell, thus no one is truly harmed. Help from outside is strictly forbidden and is punishable by death. The winner is offered an honorary seat of the Council, and he can even challenge a Warlock, but this is just plain theory. No one challenges a Warlock. His power is incomprehensible even for the most experienced wizards.
I confess, without my brother's explanations I would be completely lost. I saw a truel where a wizard left his corner without any reason, but Lokmi pointed out that the wizard was a victim of a tricky indifference spell. In the following truel a bald-headed wizard incapacitated his rivals with a stabbing spell. Opponents were sent to the ground bleeding, and I have noticed wizards' blood was the same as mine. In another truel an older wizard cleverly deflected an incoming spell, it hit his third rival, who fell to the ground with a painful muscle cramp and was forced to shout: “Abandon!”, meaning his tournament days were over.
“Did you see that?” Lokmi asked. “That was a true masterpiece!”
In the next truel a young wizard in green and red performed funny spells for the audience's amusement. He transformed his first rival into a toad and the second into a puddle of water. When the frog leapt into the puddle with a loud croak, the stands exploded with laughter.
A small dragon-like lizard called Skw’r spat his flammable saliva at the victor's feet, and this meant the next round was coming soon. It was a spectacular show without any doubt...
Humans applauded and wizards bowed their heads and whistled in appreciation whenever a successful piece of magic dazzled the playing field.
Only the highest stands on the wizards' side kept silent. It was a place of the thirteen Council members, or ka’tans in short. Their longcoats were clipped with spiral triangles, the insignia of the Council. They leaned on their black ceremonial staffs while watching the action below. Some called them half-warlocks due to their immense power and influence. They represented the will of all wizards in Averot’h. And at the end of the row Martell the Burned, the supreme ka’tan and Council's head, occupied a special chair coated in red baize with high armrests inlaid with silver.
Only a short glance toward him sent shivers down my spine. He was an incarnation of a devil itself. Even his long crimson hair couldn't hide the black-burned half of his face. The way he slouched in his seat reminded me of an eagle ready to catch its prey...
“The wound on his face is due to Gael the Just, the overthrown Warlock.” Lokmi was reading my mind. “In the memorable challenge some twenty five years ago, Gael was defeated and sent into nonexistence by Ver’del the Great, the present Warlock. Martell became the supreme of the Council then. Only the most respectable wizards sit in the Council. Maybe one day I'll be promoted to the Council too. But it's not easy, though. One must pass the Trial of the Three Elements, earth, fire and water, which is extremely difficult and dangerous because those who fail are sent into nonexistence. Tomorrow and the next day I'll practice some useful magic and then I'm going to enter the last truel of the first round.”
Somewhere deep inside I hoped he would change his mind and withdraw from the tournament after all that splendid witchcraft we experienced today, but he is as stubborn as a mule.
At least I was relieved by knowing the defeated wizards were not harmed. I had only one brother, annoying at times, but I liked him nevertheless...
♠
At dusk the show was over and the crowd headed towards the steep staircases on the Arena’s outer edge. Suddenly, the wooden stairs under my boots cracked, and in a split second I was falling through the stairs to the ground some forty feet below. A hand caught me and I grabbed the banister on my right and regain my footing again, sweating and shivering.
Oh dear, I could be dead...
September 25, 2015
The City of Wizards
Hi,
to spread my book among more readers, I´ve decided to put the book (or at least its beginning) here part by part ;-).
I hope you will find it entertaining... :-)
PROLOGUE
My brother Lokmi took me to the mythical city of Averot’h on my eighteenth birthday. Supposedly to see the ‘big world’ outside our farm, but I suspect he just wanted me to be a witness of his glorious victory at a Tournament of Magic, the famous event held every four years.
By the way, Lokmi is a miserable wizard, no more than a lousy village enchanter and fairly less than a fairground magician. It’s no surprise, as he comes from a mixed marriage of an oracle and a trifling peasant. Honestly, his chances to win the tournament are slim to none, but I’m smart enough to keep quiet. After all, he towers over me by a few inches, and his fists can make sand out of a stone...
We set out the journey one cold foggy morning. The grass was covered with dew and the air was dead calm. We could hear distant roaring of the Yellow River, but it was the only sound near and far. Soon, our house, a barn and a windmill faded away in the mist. I was leaving home without a word, preoccupied with my own thoughts. I experienced mixed feelings, both excitement and uneasiness, for I was leaving everything I knew and loved, and for my mother’s words, when she bade me farewell.
What the future holds for us? Are we going to return home some day?
We traveled fourteen days to the north on mules, leaving behind the fertile grasslands and pine forests of our homeland. Here and there we met other pilgrims and shared the latest news and the warmth of fire with them. We crossed three rivers and went around a dam with emerald waters before a dusty road brought us to a plain hemmed by a snow-white border wall stretching across the horizon.
On the north side of the wall, the human world ends and the world of wizards begins. In the middle, the wall opens up to a circle, where four towers and hundreds of palaces rise to the iris sky, shrouding thousands of winding lanes in their shadows, creating the only place where both races, humans and wizards, live in peace together. Nobody knows who built this glorious city, but legends say it’s been here since the beginning of time.
We reached the city at dawn, just in time.
The first tournament day began...
to spread my book among more readers, I´ve decided to put the book (or at least its beginning) here part by part ;-).
I hope you will find it entertaining... :-)
PROLOGUE
My brother Lokmi took me to the mythical city of Averot’h on my eighteenth birthday. Supposedly to see the ‘big world’ outside our farm, but I suspect he just wanted me to be a witness of his glorious victory at a Tournament of Magic, the famous event held every four years.
By the way, Lokmi is a miserable wizard, no more than a lousy village enchanter and fairly less than a fairground magician. It’s no surprise, as he comes from a mixed marriage of an oracle and a trifling peasant. Honestly, his chances to win the tournament are slim to none, but I’m smart enough to keep quiet. After all, he towers over me by a few inches, and his fists can make sand out of a stone...
We set out the journey one cold foggy morning. The grass was covered with dew and the air was dead calm. We could hear distant roaring of the Yellow River, but it was the only sound near and far. Soon, our house, a barn and a windmill faded away in the mist. I was leaving home without a word, preoccupied with my own thoughts. I experienced mixed feelings, both excitement and uneasiness, for I was leaving everything I knew and loved, and for my mother’s words, when she bade me farewell.
What the future holds for us? Are we going to return home some day?
We traveled fourteen days to the north on mules, leaving behind the fertile grasslands and pine forests of our homeland. Here and there we met other pilgrims and shared the latest news and the warmth of fire with them. We crossed three rivers and went around a dam with emerald waters before a dusty road brought us to a plain hemmed by a snow-white border wall stretching across the horizon.
On the north side of the wall, the human world ends and the world of wizards begins. In the middle, the wall opens up to a circle, where four towers and hundreds of palaces rise to the iris sky, shrouding thousands of winding lanes in their shadows, creating the only place where both races, humans and wizards, live in peace together. Nobody knows who built this glorious city, but legends say it’s been here since the beginning of time.
We reached the city at dawn, just in time.
The first tournament day began...
