Wizard Tournament: Chapter 90 (Patreon)
Content
Index | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
For a moment Draevin wasn’t sure if he was looking through a window into the dragon emperor’s strange world or not. After shifting his head a bit he realized what he was actually looking at was a sort of impression on the surface of the ice. Like some kind of moving portrait. It was the queerest use of cryomancy he had ever seen.
“It is good to see you are both unharmed from the latest attack,” the dragon’s voice echoed from all around them.
“So you knew she was going to do that?” Draevin demanded. “You might have intervened, I very nearly died you know.”
“If only I could,” the dragon said. “The attack happened outside of time. It was not possible to predict or intervene in it. This was a calculated risk on Caelnaste’s part. Heresma informs me that she has been apprehended by your authorities. This outcome pleases me, but it is not why I have contacted you.” The dragon’s head swelled closer, covering the entire wall of the booth with one great eye focused intently on Draevin. “I must know if Tenna has made contact with you Draevin.”
“Tenna?” Draevin asked in shock. This was the second time someone had mentioned her. “My last opponent, the orcish mystic Gro’shak, mentioned her as well. He gave me a message he supposedly got from her.”
“Then the ritual worked. This is good,” Emperor Tarrish responded. “She has not made contact?” he asked again.
“No… can she?”
“If she does, know that it’s not a trick. Trust her as you would have in life.” With that the dragon started to pull his face back from the ice. “I will contact you again if fortunes shift.”
“Wait just a second!” Draevin shouted at him. “What ritual are you talking about?”
The dragon stopped. “You know of what I speak. The Ritual of Rebirth that you performed.”
“I—” Draevin faltered. “I thought I failed, and how did you know I tried that in the first place? That was my own idea.”
“Surely you must have figured out what my instructions were for by now.” Tarrish said. “Gather the pieces into a vessel. You did well to succeed on a first attempt. Your bond with Tenna must have been strong.”
Draevin shook his head. “I thought you were describing some kind of ice clone spell.”
“Indeed,” the dragon said gravely. “I could not divulge too many details. I told you only what you needed to hear.”
“Is Tenna alive then?” Sylnya spoke up.
“Not in the way you creatures think of life,” Tarrish answered. “And as for how much of her remains… her? That depends on Draevin.”
“Where is she?” Draevin demanded. “You know, don’t you?”
“I can’t reveal more without disrupting the future,” Tarrish said. “If she still remembers you she will make contact on her own. Tuan’diath willing. I must go. There are preparations to make.” Without any more warning the image of the dragon faded away. The little black dragon Heresma chirped happily and flitted over to Peter’s shoulder. Peter gave it a pat on the head.
Once the dragon on the wall was gone Sylnya spoke up first. “Excuse me, but what the fuck was that?”
“Emperor Tarrish,” Draevin said, “of the Telnarim dragons. We told you about him.”
“Well you didn’t mention he could do that,” Sylnya said, gesturing at the wall of ice in front of them. “What even was that? Some kind of cryomancy communication spell?”
“I’m pretty sure he uses Draevin the same way Draevin uses his wand,” Peter said. He rubbed the little dragon on his shoulder while he talked. “I’m just glad he’s on our side for the time being. Can you imagine if an entity like that wanted you dead Draevin? There’d be nothing you could do.”
It finally occurred to Draevin just how helpless he would be if the dragon emperor ever turned on them. Any spell he cast could turn against him. “I should probably be more polite to him,” Draevin said sheepishly.
“Well, that sure was interesting,” Peter said. “I’ve never read anything about that Ritual of Rebirth he was talking about. It sounds fascinating.” He stood up. “Are you going to get rid of this ice now, Draevin?”
“Not so fast! Don’t you remember why I summoned this ice in the first place? You were about to start answering some questions. Did you think I’d forgotten?”
Peter bowed his head in defeat. “I was kind of hoping you had,” he admitted.
“Well too bad,” Draevin said. He took a moment to get his thoughts in order. It seemed like Caelnaste, Istven, Peter and even the judges knew something he didn’t. Something about that book. “For starters, why don’t you tell us why you were acting so weird a minute ago. Grrbraa said you were afraid. What’s so dangerous about that book? You didn’t seem afraid when you brought it up to Istven the other day.”
Peter glared pointedly in Grrbraa’s direction. Grrbraa had been crouched in the back of the booth quietly so far. Draevin hadn’t paid any special attention to which side of the ice wall Grrbraa had ended up on when he sealed off the booth. “It was bad that he was making you scared,” Grrbraa said. “I had to tell him to make him stop.” His tail was pressed firmly against the back wall, but somehow he managed to make it droop just a bit more.
“I got scared because of something Istven told me during our meeting earlier today,” Peter explained. “He warned me that the judges have taken an interest in me, and Maeve could be spying on our conversations during the matches. He also told me what they might do to me if they found out I had one of the books.”
“Oh fuck,” Sylnya cursed. Everyone looked over at her. “Uh. I think Caelnaste may have asked me some questions about that book of Peter’s while she had me under her control. A hazy memory just came back to me when he said that.” She rubbed her forehead. “What did she say…”
“What did you say?” Draevin asked. “Do you remember what you told her?”
Sylnya squeezed her eyes close. “Her cerebromancer was easing the answers out of me… asked if Peter had a special book? I told them he had lots of books. They wanted to know if there was one he was extra secretive about. I told them about that page you traded to Istven…” She opened her eyes. “That’s all I can remember.”
Peter frowned. “So she’s known all this time? Well don’t feel bad. She probably would have found out anyways with her seer abilities.”
Sylnya crossed her arms. “Why would I feel bad? I was under a cerebromancy compulsion.”
Draevin snickered out a laugh. “I wish I saw things as simply as you sometimes, Syl.” He turned to look at Peter. “So are you going to tell us what’s so special about that book already? It sounds like Caelnaste already knows. We might as well get up to speed.”
“Fine,” Peter relented. “But you need to understand that telling you guys is a big risk for me. Even knowing about it could be dangerous. If I had told Sylnya about it before Caelnaste got her mitts on her I would probably already be…” he trailed off. “I’d rather not think about it. We’re just lucky all they have so far are suspicions, and my reputation for being tricky make them unsure of those suspicions.”
“I am not afraid,” Grrbraa said. “If they try to force knowledge from me I can remove my circlet.”
“And I already wear wards on my head to fend off mental attacks,” Draevin added. “I’d like to see anyone try and make me talk.”
Sylnya pointed to the green stud earrings that were practically invisible on her green skin. “I have two Screechers now and I don’t plan on removing them any time soon.”
“You don’t have to defend yourselves to me,” Peter said, “I wouldn’t have even said as much as I have if I didn’t already trust you guys completely.”
“We’re good then,” Draevin said impatiently. “Time to spill it. What’s the big dangerous secret?”
“I’ll need to provide a little background first,” Peter said. “It’s hard to understand otherwise.” He readjusted his glasses and sat back more comfortably in his seat. The little shadow dragon finally got disturbed and slipped off his shoulder before disappearing into his shadow. “I trust you all know about the Purge?”
There was a steady pat pat pat from Grrbraa’s tail knocking against the wall behind him. “Friend-Draevin told me about it only one meal ago!” he said proudly. “It is how the bad man who lived in the tower stole all the magic from the world!”
Peter smiled. “That’s a fair assessment,” he said. “Nobody knows the exact wording of the wish that did it, but it’s a fair guess that some malevolent wizard—presumably Belorian the Black—won the tournament 1,321 years ago and made it so that nobody else could ever understand anything written or spoken in whatever the primary language was at the time. The theory goes that he then scooped up all the magical texts he could find and killed anyone who tried to stop him.”
“Right,” Draevin said. “New languages had to be invented afterwards. Magic had to be rediscovered from scratch. History books say that millions died at his hands before the gods themselves intervened. There were no written texts back then so all we have to go on are fantastical oral histories. What does this have to do with that book of yours?”
“The book was recovered from Belorian’s personal study,” Peter said. “Or a copy anyway. After he was defeated he had a collection of fifty-one books. Officially they were destroyed, but unofficially they were stolen away and they’re still used to this day by powerful noble families. Those that have access to them gain an unfair advantage over everyone else.”
“But aren’t they written in the language that was made impossible to understand?” Draevin asked. “How are they getting some kind of advantage if they can’t even read these books?”
“You can read them,” Peter said. “You just can’t understand them. But if you study them enough some part of your subconscious mind will begin to make sense of them. That’s what the nobles do. They study the books over and over until enough of it is absorbed that they can just innately perform the magic written inside.”
“So that book of yours is one of those fifty-one?”
Peter nodded. “The fourteenth book. They don’t have proper names because their original titles are no longer readable.”
“So what magic do they teach you?” Sylnya asked. “If you study them over and over, like you said.”
“Most of them actually don’t teach you anything, or only work for certain people.” Peter adjusted his glasses. “But a few of them are very powerful. The fourteenth book is considered to be the most powerful of all.”
“That didn’t really answer my question,” Sylnya pointed out. “Powerful how?”
“Well I don’t really know for sure how some of the other books work,” Peter said, “since I’ve never seen them myself. But I can say that if you study the fourteenth book long enough you will learn how to cast spells without hand signs or vocalizations. It just only seems to work with whatever school of magic you have a natural affinity for.”
It all suddenly clicked into place for Draevin. “Iᴛ’s ᴀ sʜᴏʀᴛᴄᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ!” he shouted. He forgot himself and the sound of his own voice bounced around their tiny ice box until it made his ears ring. “Sorry,” he said more quietly afterwards.
“Wait a minute,” Sylnya said. “Is that how you became a master Peter?”
He pursed his lips and nodded in the affirmative. “It only took me a few days, but most people absorb it more slowly and some not at all.”
“Fucking hell!” Draevin swore. “It took me a century to master cryomancy. Are you telling me the other masters have been cheating?”
“I can’t say for sure,” Peter said. “But probably. Most people don’t have the time or the patience to practice hours a day every day for a whole century. Did it really take you that long?”
Draevin crossed his arms and sulked. “Twenty three years to lose vocalizations. Another sixty eight to cut hand signs…” It was almost embarrassing to admit it now. “So everyone knew about these books except me?”
Peter shook his head. “The books are a well-kept secret.” He drew a line across his throat with a finger. “Very well-kept, if you catch my meaning.”
“Chill out, Drae,” Sylnya told him. She set a hand on his shoulder. “You should be proud of yourself for sticking it to those noble bastards and mastering something without one of their fancy books.” She looked to Peter. “So how exactly did you get your hands on a copy of that book then? If it’s such a well-kept secret?”
“And for that matter how did you memorize it?” Draevin added. “You just said Purged texts can’t be understood, shouldn’t memorizing it be impossible?”
“Actually one of those questions explains the other,” Peter said. “I got a copy by memorizing it. Nobody even realized it was possible so they didn’t suspect a thing. I mean, most humans can’t even read.”
“But where’d you even get to look at one?” Sylnya asked.
“The Calo family owns a copy of the fourteenth book,” Peter told her. “I was responsible for attending to Lord Calo’s youngest son while he studied the book. I memorized snippets of it every time he stepped away to cool his head. He has a remarkably short attention span.”
“Wait, did you say you ‘attended to’ Lord Calo’s son?” Sylnya asked. “Like a servant?”
Peter’s face went dark. “Like a slave,” he said seriously. Sylnya had a moment of stark realization.
“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” she told Peter softly. She looked at Draevin. “Can you believe someone as smart—” Something about Draevin’s facial expression gave him away. “You knew!”
Draevin held up his hands innocently. “It wasn’t my place to say.”
A stormy look crossed her brow. “Grrbraa,” she complained, “can you believe Draevin didn’t—” The werebeast gave a little whimper. “You, too!”
“Friend-Peter said we should be friends when we first met because we were both slave brothers together,” Grrbraa said. “He told me I had to keep his secret or they would take him away.”
Peter gave Sylnya a guilty frown. “You were under Caelnaste’s influence for a while there,” he said.
“Well I’m not anymore,” she pouted.
“Alright, well…” Draevin trailed off. He waited until he had Peter’s attention before continuing. “You didn’t say how you managed to memorize an impossible-to-understand text.”
“It’s simple really. I just memorized the shape of the individual letters, assigned each one a numeric value, then translated the whole thing into a string of numbers.”
Draevin stared at Peter, dumbfounded. “So you memorized a string of numbers…” he trailed off while trying to come up with an appropriate estimate.
“Just under 400,000 digits long,” Peter said casually. “I used a cerebromancy spell to compile the main string together so all I had to do was hold a few hundred digits in my head until I found time later to put it all together. You’d be surprised how easy it is with the right mnemonic device.”
“Suuure,” Draevin said. He could barely remember the name of that cerebromancer, Dana, he’d hired just a few days ago. The idea that Peter had a string of numbers that long just floating around in his head was almost inconceivable.
Sylnya tapped a finger against her cheek. “How many contestants do you think used these books to reach mastery?” she asked Peter.
“I have some theories on that,” he told her. He took a moment to flip through his notepad until he got to a specific page. He read from it. “Korack is a maybe,” he started.
“Definitely,” Draevin interjected. “No way that pompous ass didn’t cheat to get as good as he did.”
“I’m sure you’d like to believe that,” Sylnya said, “but that doesn’t necessarily make it true.” She signaled to Peter to continue.
“So Korack is a maybe,” he repeated. “Brorn is also a maybe, I just don’t know enough about his history to say for sure. And since I already suspect Ka of cheating I put him down as a yes. Caelnaste’s far too politically connected to believe her innate ‘seer’ abilities are entirely self-taught, so I’d put her down as a yes as well.”
“Makes sense,” Draevin agreed.
“Yeah,” Peter continued, “when I got here and started hearing about all these families with ‘gifted’ bloodlines the first thing I assumed was these were just families that own specific books. The Calo family has a supposedly gifted bloodline too after all.”
“This is just a bunch of bullshit,” Sylnya interjected. “I’ve been busting ass learning herbomancy for decades and these fuckers just get it handed to them just for being born to the right family?”
Peter smirked at her. “You’re right. Some get to achieve mastery without all the work and some are born slaves. None of it’s fair.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—”
“Let’s not get off topic here,” Draevin said before they could do just that. “Peter. You were saying about the other masters…”
“Right,” he continued. “Anyways, I don’t think Gro’shak used a book; he’s too old and not very well connected. There’s also my theory that Hanu is secretly a master vocomancer but I can’t prove it until he does something more overt. As for the non-masters, I think that Dwyra may have trained with a book but hasn’t mastered it yet. She’s too strong for a newbie and I haven’t seen her use verbal incantations to stabilize any of her spells so she’s probably close to mastering fungomancy already. She’s ex-royalty, like Istven, so there’s no doubt she would at least know about them.”
“Dwyra’s match!” Sylnya squeaked. “We could be missing it right now! Drop this ice wall Draevin. We can talk about this later!”
Draevin glanced over to Peter for confirmation. Peter arched an eyebrow at him and gave him an amused smirk as he signaled him to go ahead.
“Will Dwyra’s soft mushrooms stand a chance against Ka’s rock-hard crystals?” Maeve was announcing to the crowd in her enhanced voice. “Let’s find out!”
The bell chimed. Dwyra and Ka’s match began.