MAGES BONES : A serial fantasy story by Tommy

Chapter 1

It was after midnight in the Mages’ Tower in the city of Tasskurr. This meant that it was busy. No wizard worth his runes conducted business in the cold light of day. Not when the same work could be done under the cover of darkness and present far more of an air of mystery and suspense.

Nicarius had been a Master of the Hermetic Order of the Silver Sphere for over 20 years; in fact he had been one of the three founder members.

Everyone assumed mages’ guilds and orders were part of some ancient and venerable tradition, handing secrets from Master to Apprentice down through the years. Nicarius and his compatriots did nothing to discourage the public image that they were simply the latest in a long line of keepers of the arcane secrets. Few people knew the truth; that they had set up in competition against what they had perceived to be a thoroughly corrupt monopoly on the teaching of The Craft. The Guild of Arcane Lore had been around since sometime shortly after the dawn of time, and may well have been formed through the union of some God of Magic, and a God of Knowledge passing on their secrets to a chosen few mortals who had passed that same knowledge down through the generations; chosen few to chosen few.

Of course these days chosen few was less literal than it had been in the past; these days it was fiscal prudency that allowed both the talented and the wealthy the chance to study for five years to become adept at something that really only needed a year to get right.

Nicairius shared stewardship of the Silver Sphere now with only one of his original partners. Gilarean had long been one of the two people he had ever properly trusted. The other, Ambrose, had died some years ago, so it was just him and Gil to keep things running smoothly.

Of course they never really did run smoothly. Organising The Hermetic Order of the Silver Sphere was like, as Gil often said, juggling angry serpents; even when things went well for a moment or two, all you were ultimately sure of was that something would soon be back to bite you… The Guild of Arcane Lore had been long established in the capital city of Minsturr in the North West, which was the reason the Silver Sphere was based in Tasskurr.

Tasskurr was a busy east coast frontier town with new prospective members arriving every month off the boats from the mainland; all looking to make a name for themselves. Some would join the Order and pay to learn the secrets of the runes; maybe take apprenticeships under the higher ranked members. Many more would avail themselves of the minor magical items and potions the guild members made and sold through the Arcane store at the side of the guild house.

Money was usually tight, particularly with there being a war in the winds, and it was fortunate that Gilarean’s previous line of work had involved him being the head of a very different type of guild. It had always astounded Nicairius that no one seemed to ever associate the “Scouts” guild with the other organisation entirely comprised of sneaky people who specialised in hiding in shadows and moving silently. Running a Thieves’ Guild had made Gil very wealthy of course, and even after he had handed over the running of the Scouts Guild to one of his lieutenants, he still received a regular share of its income.

Nicairius paused at the foot of the staircase. He glanced across the chamber to where two young apprentices were arguing over something.

“It’s not impossible… it just takes skill and courage!” one of them said, a little too loudly.

Nicairius started up the stairs. Then he paused, sighed, and cursed himself under his breath. He shook his head and turned around and walked over to the two young men. He stopped just in front of them, and after the moment or two it took him to realise that they hadn’t noticed him, he coughed and raised his eyebrows at their startled looks as if to say, Go on then? Tell me…”

The first to speak was Barrilo, a rich young fellow, who had mostly bought his way to the second circle of runic knowledge; but was capable enough,

“Grand Master” he began; almost stuttering with surprise at Nicairius’ presence. “Juno and I were debating whether the err… correct way to… errr…”

Juno jumped in, “…we were arguing over whether it’s actually possible to make a necromantic bind that would hold permanently!” his tone almost smacked of defiance; Barrilo closed his eyes and lowered his head into his hands.

“Sorry?” Nicairius sounded almost inquisitive. “I thought for a second you just said that you were discussing the subject of necromantic binding?” He pretended to weigh this up for a moment. Juno stood stock still, trying to maintain an air of strength, though anyone could see the sweat on his brow. He had realised his second mistake that night had been to address Nicairius in such a way.

Nicairius looked around, everyone had stopped what they were doing and were looking over at the three of them.

Damn! Why couldn’t I just walk up the bloody stairs, drink my bloody wine, read my bloody book and go to bloody bed?

The statute of the Order was clear, Necromancy was forbidden; even discussing it in terms of application. He would have to take action, and now, or the rest of the Order would see him fall down on one of the most precious articles upon which it had been founded.

“Now, why would you be discussing something like that,” he began, “when you know that such things are forbidden?” Maybe he could get away with a strong and sarcastic public withering…

That might work…

“You do know that the Fire Elemental that dwells within my very skin is always ravenous, and if I were to release him right now, all that would remain of your foolish little bodies would be a dash of soot, and an inconvenient smell?”

Barrilo winced, but Juno didn’t move.

Nicairius continued; “The reason idiot novices like you aren’t allowed to even discuss such things, is because the grown-ups have decided that it’s safer if you don’t get your souls sucked away by the spirits of the eternally damned. Which is what happens when you think you know better than we do, and go and do something stupid, like trying a bloody permanent binding!!!!!!!” he was worried now that Barrilo might just soil himself; Nicairius didn’t like bad smells.

He hoped the message had sunk in, and that would be the last of it… but instead Juno opened his mouth.

“But Grand Master, we believe that if our enemies are likely to employ necromancy against us, surely we should learn enough about it to perhaps try and counter it!” he said.

There we go!

Nicairius felt himself sag inside. It had happened. Just like deep down he’d known it was about to… Juno had tried to justify it. There was the sudden sound of everyone else in the room hurrying to go about their business again, hopeful of not being caught up in what it assumed was about to happen to the young apprentice.

Nicairius was a Grand Master of the Order; that was his title. He had other titles, such as “Master of the Flame”, and “Archmage”. Essentially, by virtue of setting the Guild up he had achieved the Grand Master title, but the other two he had worked for. A mage took a long time to achieve what Nicairius had; it took a lot of hard work, study, and practical experience to attain even one inner circle title, let alone two. Master of the Flame was a self-ascribed honorific, and was Nicairius’ way of saying “Fire Elementalist” and Archmage was his second inner circle title.

Magic was all about runes. Every rune had a meaning, and a power, and the combination of runes allowed someone who understood, and could manipulate that power, to achieve mastery over the natural magic that existed within the world. The runes were broken down into five circles of power, with the first, or “outer” circle being the basic, weaker, runes; knowledge of which allowed mages to perform minor spell such as shocking enemies with a touch, or creating a protective barrier to act like light armour. It allowed them to create light in darkness, and break and mend minor inanimate objects with a touch. As the circles increased in level, so did their power. By the time a wizard had learned the secrets of the third circle he could cast popular and effective spells such as the perennial favourite, “Fireball” creating a projectile that would fly at enemies and explode, causing varying degrees of pain and scorching. The fourth circle involved fewer runes, but their powers allowed a mage to amplify the effects of the lower ones to create more devastating explosions, more powerful armour, and enchant objects and even people. The fifth circle was the most inaccessible and most powerful of all. It potentially allowed power over time itself, (though that rune had never been successfully combined,) and its runes were almost impossible to master. They were equally difficult to pronounce.

Nicairius had mastered the fifth circle years before, and had gone beyond. He had learned two of the secret Master runes. The Master of Fire, and the Master of Magic. No one knew exactly how many Master runes existed, the ones that were known were; Fire Master, Earth Master, Air Master, Water Master, Archmage, Master Enchanter, Demonolgist and of course; Master Necromancer.

The Elemental Masters, (Nicairius’ Mastery of Fire was complimented to devastating effect by Gilarean’s Mastery of Air) were capable of summoning immensely powerful Elementals who they would engage in a form of spirit combat. If they overcame them, they could bind the Elemental into an object and had access to its powers. They could then control it to do their bidding. Demonologists, (many of whom often complained that the title gave a bad impression of their profession) had a similar relationship with spirits from the outer planes, not all of which were “Demons” in the traditional sense…

Master enchanters were capable of making almost anything with a magical aura. From a mighty sword that could cut through granite, or a dragon’s neck, to a spoon that would stir the porridge itself… and then there were Necromancers. Elementalists and Demonologists, had a slight safety net in their specialty, in that if, for any reason, one of their imprisoned forces ever managed to free itself from its binding, its natural course of action would be to cause a bit of chaos and harm in revenge for being locked up, but to quickly return to its home plane of existence. Necromancy involved many of the same principles of Elementalism; drawing forth the restless spirits of the dead and either binding them in spectral form, or binding them to a corpse. Unfortunately, if the binding were to ever break, the undead creature would be unable to return to the plane of the dead until it was killed again, and would seek to cause as much harm to the living as it could in the meantime. As far as any living mage were aware it had never been possible to create a permanent binding, to allow one to control an other-worldly being without the risk of it ever breaking free. The ramifications of something like that were enormous. It would allow Master Magi to summon and bind beings of such immense power, and use that power. So much so that the balance of nature would be threatened. The greatest risk would be that a clever mage somewhere might come up with a counter spell to undo the binding, in a foolhardy bid to defeat the power of the one creating the binding, and unwittingly unleash creatures capable of enormous devastation upon the world.

Nicairius had a problem now. Everyone had seen and heard Juno’s aspiration. The young apprentice had stepped beyond the What would happen if, that existed in his own head, and had taken the next step toward, I want to see what happens if… by openly debating it.

Ideas were dangerous, and everyone in the Order knew that if someone was focused enough on something so much that that they would openly contradict the Grand Master, in public, then there was every likelihood that if Nicairius just said, cast it from your mind and think no more on it, that Juno would simply go away and work on the idea in private, which was even worse…

He looked around to see the guild members busying themselves and trying not to make eye contact, but he knew they were listening intently to whatever his next words would be. They were; “Come with me Juno. And you, Barrilo… clean out his room.”

Juno’s face went as white as a sheet. Nicairius started up the stairs, and Juno looked around as if hoping someone or something would miraculously show him a quick escape route. It didn’t happen. He screwed his eyes up, raised his left hand to them, wiped away the tears that were forming, and set off after Archmage Nicairius; Master Of the Flame, Grand Master of The Hermetic Order of the Silver Sphere.
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(All rights to text Andrew Tomlinson, images via creative commons)