A man sat in the wagon. He was dressed in ordinary, simple, peasant garb. An old, black horse pulled the wagon. The rest of the wagon was covered with some old, torn fabric. He was traveling along a dirt path, and birdsong could be heard in the distance. He was just emerging from a rather large hill, so he dismounted to give the old horse some relief. Suddenly, he heard a noise. He pulled out a wooden stick from the wagon, stopped the horse, and waited. Seeing nothing, he continued on his way. At that moment, a young wolf jumped out of the bushes. He bared his teeth and slowly approached the wagon. The horse began snorting and whinnying. The man grabbed the stick with both hands. He struck the leaping wolf with all his might. The impact knocked it down. However, the wolf was already dead. He had been hit square in the head. The man, covered in blood, began to dig himself out from under the animal's body. It was strange for a single wolf to attack in broad daylight. He had probably been startled by someone. We'll have to ask the village if they know anything about this, he thought, continuing his journey. When he reached the hill, he saw large mountains, their peaks reaching into the clouds. At their foot was a small settlement. "Finally, home," the man thought. A moment later, the fabric on the wagon began to move. After pushing it aside, a man of about 30 emerged, with long, dark hair and blue eyes. He wore a gray robe soaked in blood on the left side. As he sat down, he was clearly careful with his left hand.
"It's still a long way," he tried to say as loudly as possible.
"No, sir, it's still about half a day's journey. There's an old man here who can heal such wounds. Darn, a friend of mine, went hunting once, but he was surprised by a bear. Luckily, I was there and had something to stab him with, but Darn's leg was badly cut. A nasty wound. It seemed he wouldn't be able to walk again. And now? Oh, look, he's barely limping.
"Comforting," he replied, glancing at his long wound, extending from his elbow, down the inside of his arm, ending halfway to his wrist. His hand also had minor cuts. One of the wounds reached all the way to the center of his ring finger. Degard tried to stand, but suddenly staggered and fell against the cart. Something metal pricked his back.
"Be careful there, sir, I'm carrying tools from the city. We don't have that here," he said, and began to lift the injured man. Degard lay down again and fell asleep.
He was awakened by the screams of children. His father had returned—he could hear it through a haze. Pain shot through his arm, radiating to his chest. Some infection must have set in, he thought. After a moment, two people approached him. He recognized the man who had helped him and probably his wife. She was a thin, short woman with very blue eyes. He thought he'd seen them somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where or when. He saw them talking to each other, but couldn't quite hear what they were saying. He felt like he was getting a fever. He closed his eyes.
*
When he woke up, he was lying in an uncomfortable bed, staring at the leaky ceiling. He looked to his left and saw a window, and with it a terrible downpour. He tried to get up.
"No, don't get up, you still have a long time to recover. I'll stitch up your wound soon. I put some medicine there, it doesn't hurt as much anymore, does it? Who did this to you?
" "Ugh, I don't remember... I know I was walking towards the Raven Valley, and then I woke up in that peasant's cart," Degard replied
. "That peasant is a very good man. His name is Tomir. If it weren't for him, you would probably have died by now. Now sleep."
He was talking to an old man. A thick scar was visible on his left cheek, starting at his chin and disappearing somewhere in the thicket of white hair. His entire face was marked with thick wrinkles. The hands he had used to touch the magician were dry and rough. In this village, everyone had to work. Anyone with the strength to cultivate the garden beds. The land didn't produce much. People were too poor to afford to travel to the distant city to buy food.
When Degard awoke, he looked at his arm again. It was stitched up. The stitches were very well done. As if a surgeon had done it in a hospital in some big city. Who is this old man? He began to wonder. The door opened, and a woman with blue eyes came to him. He remembered that it was Tomir's wife. She handed him food, then left without a word. The plate was filled with vegetables, and in his hand was a strange greenish drink. He took a sip and knew from the taste that it was definitely medicine. The vegetables proved to be very good. After he had eaten, the old man appeared in the doorway. He approached him and said,
"You'll be fine now. We helped you, now you'll help us. You have a beautiful amulet. This will be your payment." Unless you repay me in some other way," he said, showing Degard's amulet on his chest. The amulet was made of some strange, shiny metal, with an image of a sphere engraved inside, containing a lightning bolt. The reverse was covered with magical runes. Silver stones carved in the shape of a star were placed around the edges.
"What can I do?" the mage hissed angrily.
"I know you can read those funny markings on the amulet. There are identical ones in a certain cave. In old books, it's written that a great treasure lies there. Unfortunately, no one wrote down how to obtain it. However, we believe there are instructions on the cave wall. And your amulet looks very similar to the marking there. You will help us find this treasure. We'll go tomorrow," he said, and left.
Degard looked at his left hand and tried to chant a simple spell. He tried to make his hands heat up. He started to make a gesture, but stopped halfway through and hissed with a terrible pain. Well, tomorrow we'll have to do without this, he thought, and then decided to go to sleep. The night passed peacefully. Only once did a throbbing pain in his finger wake him.
"Get up, the sun is high. We'll be waiting outside the door," said the man standing over him.
Degard lazily got up, washed himself, and put on his robes. He lightly moved the fingers of his left hand. The pain was still the same. Yawning, he walked out. He found himself in the courtyard of a typical village. He could sense that pigs lived somewhere. Near the door stood a wooden bench. A few steps away, three men and an old man were waiting for him. One of them approached Degard and tied a scarf over his eyes.
"This is necessary, in case you try to deceive us," the old man said, explaining.
The men led him many steps further. He felt the eyes of the entire village on him. After about five minutes of walking, it seemed to him that they had left the village. He felt solid ground beneath his feet, and occasionally plants or trees brushed against one shoulder. They walked in silence. Every now and then, a man would change to support the magician, trying to keep him from falling. After a while, they began to ascend. In places, the ground became muddy. Birds could be heard singing. It was getting hotter. Suddenly, it started to rain. Great, Degard thought, a storm is just around the corner in these cursed mountains. A few moments later, thunder began to rumble. The path began to level out. It wasn't so steep anymore. He could feel hard stones underfoot. It became much cooler. They entered the cave the old man had spoken of with such emotion. The man leading him untied the scarf that was over his eyes. "This is better," the magician thought. He blinked slightly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the cave. Everyone carried torches, but no one handed one to Degard. They reached their destination. In this part of the cave, the cave was very wide, but not very high. The old man approached, handed the torch to the mage, and pointed to a wall covered in runes.
"This is where the symbol you have on that pendant is, and this is where it is," the old man pointed.
Degard knew immediately that it was runic writing. An ancient script used by mages when almost everyone still possessed some magical power. He began to read.
Maren the Wise
150-372
"This is the tomb of some ancient mage," Degard thought. "Perhaps there are some books or scrolls there that will be useful in the school. Valn will certainly be happy.
" "It seems the tomb is secured with some magical key," he said to the old man.
"A tomb? Does that mean someone lies here? Who? A king? Some high official?" the old man asked.
"No, unfortunately, it's just a magician. Give me some time and I'll decipher this key. Maybe there'll be something interesting there."
After two hours, Degard guessed the key. He walked closer to the wall and pressed the combination of five symbols that were around the carved talisman. After a moment, the talisman fell inside the wall. And the wall gave way on its own. Degard took the torch from the old man and entered. The men who accompanied him tried to follow him, but the old man stopped them with a gesture. The young magician entered the tomb, which turned out to be a large chamber. He felt a carpet under his feet, which surprised him greatly. He must have been some powerful and renowned magician to have such an impressive tomb, he thought. But what good is it if he's already dead and forgotten? To the right of the tomb, he saw a small bookcase with two books inside. He walked over and took one. "Magic as a Double-Edged Blade" by Maren. "These are his books," he thought with surprise. "I wonder what value such old books have." He opened it and read a passage: "
Today's magic is full of doubts about its own capabilities. There are no established rules to control it. If such a force can be controlled."
He turned a few pages forward. "
There are spells forgotten today, or blocked by the Council of Mages. I believe this is unwise. Every branch of magic should be explored. Both the good and the bad."
His reading was interrupted by the shout of the old man who was hurrying him. Degard took the two books and tucked them under his cloak. Then he headed to the next chamber of the tomb. There, too, stood a large coffin in the center. The mage didn't dare look inside, but on the left, he saw beautiful armor and two swords. One was beautifully ornate, the work of the dwarves from the Varten Mountains. Their family died out some 300 years ago when they began to quarrel over the riches they had acquired through their exquisite craftsmanship. The second sword was made of a strange material that resembled silver. When Degard turned the blade, he saw elven runes running from the blade to the point. The hilt itself was saturated with fine, elegant elven writing. The armor lying nearby was also the work of dwarves. It was also made of the same material as the sword. It was also covered in elven writing. This must have been the mage's armor, Degard thought—he was an elf. Why did he die?
The mage took the armor and two swords and approached the coffin. He saw a short inscription:
A hero has died. In a agonizing struggle against himself.
The Council of Wizards.
Maren the Wise
150-372
Degard tucked the strange elven sword under his cloak and left the tomb. The old man ordered him to hand over the treasures the mage had found. After walking two steps from the entrance wall, they heard a loud bang. The cave began to collapse. Fortunately, they escaped quickly enough. The journey back to the village presented them with no problems, except for the heavy rain that fell continuously.
*
By the time they returned to the village, it was already night. Suddenly, they heard a terrifying roar.
"It's him again," the old man shouted nervously. "Let's hide in my house. There's no access there."
Then they began running to the old man's house. They sat without any light. No one spoke to anyone, so Degard didn't want to risk opening his mouth either. After a while, they heard the roar again and the terrible scream of a woman.
"What's going on there?" Degard finally asked
. "It's a demon that haunts the village from time to time. According to our calculations, he's here every 23rd night. He always kidnaps one person." No one had survived yet.
"I'll go see who it is," replied a young, probably inexperienced mage.
"Don't go, fool, you'll die," one of the men said fearfully
. The mage stood up and left. He walked a few steps away from the house and listened. Finally, he heard quiet footsteps. He hid behind the corner and watched. About 5 meters away, a creature passed, probably 2.5 meters tall. It seemed to have horns on its head, and faint wings were visible on its back. It was doubtful it could fly with them. Its entire body was covered with long, dark hair. Its arms were very muscular, and its legs seemed as thick and strong as a horse's. On his shoulder, he carried a woman who was simply crying. Degard emerged from the corner and screamed. The demon turned, threw the woman from his shoulders, and began running quickly toward the mage. Degard intoned a thrust spell and made a corresponding gesture with his right hand. The figure stopped. It stared back with its black eyes. She roared and then vanished. "What is this?" the mage thought frantically. "What kind of demon can disappear?" Suddenly, he felt someone standing behind him. He turned, chanting a thrust spell at the same time. This slowed the creature's powerful blow a little. But it was enough to knock him off his feet. The demon leaned over him. Stinking saliva began to leak from its mouth. The teeth it showed were as long as human fingers and yellowish-brown in color. The creature opened its mouth even wider, then licked Degard's entire face with its large red tongue. Suddenly, it stood up, picked up the fallen woman, and quickly ran away. The mage vomited. "What a mess, what the hell was that?" he thought, wiping away the warm, sticky saliva. He had been lying there for about ten minutes when the old man came to him.
"He marked you," he said .
"I noticed," the mage muttered, still trying to get rid of the sticky saliva.
"He'll come for you in 23 days. It's strange that he wants you. He wants a woman every time. It's probably because you stood in his way. No one dared. Raise him," he said to the men standing beside him. When Degard stood up, the old man continued his monologue. "This demon has lived here since time immemorial. We have a custom of choosing a woman to offer him as a sacrifice. During this time, every villager hides in their homes. It's been this way for 200 years, as the book says. At least no one remembers the beginning.
" "Why don't you try to fight him?"
"Several people tried. Our entire village even bought dwarven assassins. But none of them survived. They were killed on the spot. And on top of that, we had to clean up the blood and remains that were left behind.
" "So why didn't he kill me?"
"Apparently, he likes you as much as he likes our women," the man interjected
. "You'll stay with us for another 23 days, chosen one." "That might make the demon more pleased," the old man said.
"What if I don't agree?
" "Either way, you'll die. Sooner or later. We have ways to keep you from leaving this village."
Meanwhile, two men grabbed his hands, and a third began to tie him up.
"You'll also give back that sword you so clumsily hid. And you can keep the books. So you don't waste time," the old man laughed
. The men escorted Degard to the old man's home. The mage tried to free himself, but was punched in the stomach. The room he was thrown into resembled an ordinary room. The mage began to look around and noticed a simple wooden bed and a shabby table next to it. "What luxury," he thought. He tried to loosen the bonds slightly, but at that moment, the old man entered.
"Do you know why they listen to me so much here?" he asked.
"Because you're the cruelest of them all?" the mage replied
. "I'm a mage, just like you. It may not be obvious, but I once sat on the Council of Mages.
" "Then why didn't you enter the tomb yourself?" You can read this, right?
"This village is very poor. I don't need their financial situation to change. Things are fine for them as they are. They work hard and reap the rewards. It's as it should be. I didn't expect you to be able to read this and solve the puzzle. Does your hand still hurt?
" "I'm not complaining.
" "Do you remember what attacked you?
" "No.
" "It was me. In the form of a wolf. Later, I checked to see if you were heading in the right direction. Tomir turned out to be a good man.
" "I don't believe you. Few magicians can do something like that.
" "You have to have an open mind, and then you can achieve a lot. Quite different from what they teach at the School of Magicians, right?"
The old man received no answer. He approached Degard and began chanting a spell. The young magician tried to defend himself, but he lacked the strength. The old man untied his rope with a knife.
"You can now wander freely around the village. But I don't advise running away. You surely know Noh's spell."
After this statement, the old man left, leaving Degard alone.
*
After a week, Degard's hand was in good condition. Feeling returned. The magician spent the entire week at home. He preferred not to go out and not to be seen by people. The spell that had been placed on him prevented him from going beyond a certain area. In this case, it was the village. He spent the time reading a book he had found in a tomb. Thanks to this, he learned new spells, unknown to modern times.
He saw a rat on the floor. "We'll try," he thought. With some difficulty, he uttered the words, made a rather complicated gesture, and directed his hands at the rat. The animal began to choke. The magician made another gesture, and the rat fell motionless.
After a few days, Degard decided to leave the house. People he passed along the way stared at him and pointed. He, on the other hand, tried to ignore them. "Imprisoned by the village magician," he thought bitterly. All the magician's remaining days passed in studying books and strolling through the village. Day 23 seemed like any other. The weather was beautiful, not a single cloud in the sky. Night fell. Everyone retreated to their homes again, and the chosen one was placed outside. The old man finally lifted Noh's spell and said, "Thank you for everything." Degard sat down on the grass, closed his eyes, and began to meditate. The sound of footsteps roused him. The demon came again. The magician slowly rose, and the creature approached him with quick, determined steps. Once again, it stared at him with terrifying, cold eyes. Its eyes seemed to be a chasm from which there was no return. They stood there motionless for several minutes. In the blink of an eye, the creature struck the magician. He slowly fell to the ground.
He woke up in a cave. He slowly opened his stinging eyes. He found himself in Maren's tomb. He felt a book under his hand. It was open to the last page. The mage sat down and looked. There was nothing written there. After a moment, the demon walked in calmly.
"You read this," a strange, raspy sound echoed.
Degard decided not to respond
. "You read it," he stated. "Then you will join me soon.
" "Who are you?" the mage resumed the conversation.
"I am Maren. A cursed mage. 200 years ago, my magical studies began to take a different direction than the Council of Mages desired. I disobeyed them. Such is the punishment for disobedience. You read my book; you are probably like me. I saw that you learned the spells contained within.
" "From what I know, the Council doesn't punish its subordinates this way."
"I resigned.
" "The old man who lives in the village was also on the Council
." "He's bluffing. And if not, he was too weak to serve. Besides, he was stripped of his magical powers. I was offered the same.
" "That's why there's no mention of you in the history books. Why did you become what you are?
" "They captured me, and then, with the combined forces of the wizards, they stripped me of my human form and my magical powers. One of them was Valn. But there's a chance if you help me.
" "Wait, why are you taking women from a nearby village?
" "I still feel human. They're just a small compensation.
" "How can I help you?
" "You'll go against the Council and kill them. Thanks to me, you'll have enough power to defeat them. One by one. Then the spell will be broken. We'll establish a new regime. Do you agree, my apprentice?
" "I will never be your apprentice! Your magic is diseased! It's like a cancer in a healthy magical body!"
"I know you want to." I know you want to be the most powerful in history. I will help you achieve this. The book you have delved into is only the beginning of this kind of magic. Stay with me and you will have everything," Maren rasped.
"No, I am loyal to the Council. I will kill you and bring your head to Valn!
" "Now you will die, you foolish young wizard," Maren roared, completely inhuman, and began approaching the mage.
Degard quickly jumped away from him and began chanting a spell. He made it. The thrust knocked the creature off its feet. Another spell, and the figure on the ground began to choke. The young mage watched in horror as Maren rose and walked towards him. Degard lacked the strength to finish the job. After a moment, he began to look around. There was no way out of the cave. The demon grabbed him in a tight grip and rasped, "You could have had everything, now you have nothing." At that moment, a huge stalactite fell on Maren, piercing his skull. He slumped to the ground, releasing the mage. He stood up, looked up, and thought, "Always look for all possible solutions. I never would have thought such a ridiculous spell could help me." He looked up, and the fallen stalactite had blown a hole in the cave ceiling. This allowed the mage to escape. He returned to the School of Mages, but he didn't say a word to the Council about what he had found.
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