Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Wake Up For a Moment From This Dream of Me ❯ Wake Up For a Moment From This Dream of Me ( Chapter 1 )

Wake Up for a Moment from this Dream of Me

 

Most students I knew at the Sela magic school went through a quill pen in about a week. I tended to need to buy a new one every few days. Many students liked to boast of their pegasus or gryphon-feather quills, but the size of the shaft made the line so thick as to be nearly illegible. A goose feather suits me fine, especially since I tend to write small.

“Shani?”

I always wrote my notes in a small clothbound blank book. While I could afford it, paper was not a common commodity so it was often bound into books to keep sheets organized and easy to find. It was the quick-ink-drying spell that was the costly part of the blank volume.

“Hey Shani.”

The study of magical research is a long, involved process. Magic is like cooking, my introductory course three years ago taught me: it is made up of many parts, and combining those parts out of order or in disproportionate amounts can produce a faulty product or something different altogether. And magical research is the experimentation and theory that goes into the creation of magical spells: the syllables, physical gestures and material components necessary to create a suitable connection with the world's web of magic energy and produce a desired result. At times, I've heard the occupation can be boring and at other times dangerous, but it was one I had aspired to for many years. (Okay, I was only fourteen at the time, but it one has to start somewhere.)

I looked up from my Byzantine arrangement of books and notes. “Huh? What?”

Everything was gone as I looked up. The theories, formulas, teachings of the great wizards became as meaningless as the idle scribbles in the margins of my notes. I was in the presence of the master I'd been apprenticed to, the eldest prince of the kingdom of Jigsaw. Besides the typical features of elves—pointed ears, slightly pointed canines and a faintly androgynous appearance, the usual phrase “elven beauty” was left behind by Geddon's large eyes, the brilliant green of spring grass, or his rich brown hair pulled always back into an elegant ponytail (gold to the dross of my mat of short blond hair), and his immortally convivial smile. His pale complexion was immaculate even in the dimmed, dusty light of the study.

“Shani,” he spoke softly (I had only heard him raise his voice a few times, ever), “are you—”

I knew what was coming. I looked up to him immensely, which was why I was afraid to hear his criticism. I pretended to still be lost in my work. “Hmm, the research time for Forma Valta was only eight months, but developing the Rustproof spell took eight years…”

“Yes, but after Mage Tymen discovered Forma Valta without using a protection spell, they couldn't even find his teeth. I feel it's a good thing his records of how the spell was produced were incinerated with him.” Geddon paused.

A deep voice sprung from among the bookshelves like a pouncing cat. “Along with his estate and the town he lived in.”

Geddon turned to the newcomer. “Ah! Not to sound cruel or heartless, of course!” he added.

The young man, wearing a dark blue tunic under a thick white coat stiffened his jaw and looked from behind long silvery locks. “Of course,” he nodded rigidly.

I looked to the familiar figure of the school alumnus that had graduated before I was even born (again, an elf but even older than Geddon) and remained at the school to help instruct. “Xerei? Your studies involved some degree of risk, didn't they?”

Xerei straightened with inveterate pride to his full height of just less than six feet, showing the dirtied bottom seams of his coat that had become gray from dragging on the floor. “Well, of course, to an extent—Shani, I'm studying to be an ambassador. Magical transportation is hardly dangerous,” he corrected himself.

This all felt wrong. It was heartbreaking to go against Geddon on any issue—it felt like betrayal. But Xerei—he had always been distant and unsympathetic, probably not by choice or out of malice but difficulty relating to those who saw things differently than he did.

“Geddon, listen,” I said. “I was thinking—the incantation syllable `sha' usually is accompanied by syllable that entails an upward motion with the left hand, but...” One of my favorite courses of study were the patterns that the shape and nature of the world's magical field created in the order and sequence of verbal and physical components required to tap that field and cast different spells. There are few exhaustive texts on the subject so most of what I'd come up with were vague theories. I'd found a gap in a pattern I'd been working on where a spell should exist, but its predicted power level would be too overwhelming for my ability. But now I felt more overwhelmed by the conversation at hand.

Xerei leaned forward over me, resting his broad hangs on the table. His presence was intimidating, and I'd always known him to be almost always serious. I didn't have to look up to feel the severe, concerned gaze in his blue-gray eyes. He spoke, his warm breath intimidating me further. “Shani, your quest for knowledge is refreshing and inspiring. But I feel considerable apprehension at your mention of experimenting with magic you don't seem to comprehend yet.” When he laid a hand on my shoulder and I knew he was truly worried; Xerei had never been fond of physical contact with others.
Across the table, Geddon smiled, and my heart warmed. “You want me to test your theory?”

Xerei whirled with calculated precision to face the prince, the braid he kept his silver hair drawn tightly back in sweeping onto his shoulder. “I won't permit it,” he said stolidly.

Geddon stiffened, blushing. For a prince trained to be a leader and a diplomat, he never could handle being at the center of attention or put on the spot. Wringing his delicate hands and doing his best to look directly at Xerei, he declared, “Xerei, Shani is my apprentice. Putting my social status aside, the decision is mine to make.”
Looking into the bright pools of Geddon's eyes, I just knew— I insisted to myself that there was something more than the bond between a magician and his apprentice. Something glimmered there deep inside in some metaphysical realm, impossible to pinpoint but unmistakable in nature. There was an unshakable dedication there. Why? I was the one who followed him like a puppy with admittedly naïve optimism, never being turned away because of his kindness. Why was he regarding me the way I always had him? All this poured into me, and a telltale tear strayed down my cheek.  

I quickly slapped my hand over my face, but the emotion spread slickly from that one tear over my face as soon as I covered it. I grasped tenuously at keeping a straight face. With a pathetic sniffle, it was all over— I began crying, burying my face in my arms on the table.

“Shani!” I heard Geddon say in alarm. A hand —I knew it was his—  pressed into my arm.

I couldn't bring myself to squeak out a reply beyond a tiny whimper. I'd known Geddon for so many years— at what point did our friendship become this painful one-sided yearning? The two had become so melded together by my own delusions I couldn't tell anymore. It felt like the hot tears were burning trails down my cheeks.

“Shani…? What is it?”

I cautiously lifted my face, dampened by the tears soaked into the sleeves of my tunic. In Geddon's eyes I saw the choices I'd made and those I was presently faced with staring back at me. I felt my previous arrogant notions of myself being the only one who understood my predicament blissfully slipping away, at the realization that I was completely, hopelessly confused. In my years of study and searching for knowledge and truth I'd never felt so happy to be ignorant.

“I…” I smiled a weak grin. “I think I've been involving myself in things still beyond my comprehension.”

Xerei smiled. “So you see my point, then.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You're so smart… remember to supplement intelligence with wisdom and good judgment. I have faith that you'll make the right choice.”

Geddon shot Xerei a timid warning glance, and added, “Your choices belong to you alone, Shani. No one can force you to change your mind, but that's exactly why you have to think carefully before you choose your actions.”

Wait, what were we talking about? I looked down at my painstakingly written notes. Even the most difficult subjects were nothing compared to the ways of the world that had no formulas or equations to tell us what to do. Everything I'd found in stacks of brittle, ancient books would only take me so far. I'd spent so much of my youth searching for what can be determined empirically. I closed my book of notes and stood up.

“Geddon… do you want to try my spell idea?”

Xerei gaped for a moment before correcting himself. “Ah—but…”

Geddon chuckled at Xerei. “Shani, pack up your books. Discoveries in theoretical magic can wait, and this place is too stuffy for the important ritual of clearing one's head.”
* * *

Past the palace and the temple of Sofia, the largest park in the expansive city of Sela lies nestled snugly into the market district. Easily the biggest open area in Sela, its shading trees, smoothly paved paths and the rich colors of fluttering banners and flowers allowed to grow erratically, free of flower beds or pots beckoned from across the courtyard between it and the cathedral. Upon entering, we passed under the arch monument, topped with the largest known clock ever built, with a face twenty feet tall. A silver pendulum swung playfully over the path leading into the park. It was not actually part of the clock's mechanism, but for decoration; light reflecting from the massive swinging pendulum was so intense that it was strong enough to operate heat-driven chimes throughout the park. The clock itself, while beautiful and awe-inspiring, was known by the inhabitants of the great city of Sela to be notoriously inaccurate and had to be corrected a few times a day.

Xerei having returned to his room, Geddon and I were left alone. Looking around me, I knew that Geddon's real reason for leaving the study was to get away from Xerei.
I started a little bit when Geddon spoke. We'd remained quiet during most of our walk.

“Shani, we've known each other for a long time.”

I nodded. Elves aging at roughly a fifth of the rate humans do, Geddon had been alive almost a hundred years, and myself only fourteen. My family has been close friends of the royal family for many generations, so I grew up with Geddon ever present in my life. Having him at my side, or at least nearby was as natural as the sky being above me and the ground below.

“Shani, using magic is like interacting with a person. The success of each is based on experience. One can study magic for a lifetime, but without performing simple spells one can't work their way up to the strongest ones, even if one knows how to perform them.

“When you're with a person, a basic understanding of the person comes out of necessity first: how they move, the words they use, what their beliefs and attitudes are. For example -don't tell him I said this— In Xerei's case, appealing to his ego works better than offering to buy him a drink. Experimenting is a great way to find out new things, but it doesn't come without its risks. That's important to understand, in both cases.”

Did Geddon understand my feelings for him? It was impossible to tell, and I certainly wasn't going to ask him. At the moment I hardly had the patience or the capacity to play my little word games to try and get him to divulge something.
At this point, we walked under the great silver pendulum of the arch clock. The massive disc swept safely, stealthily over us as if it were trying to swoop down to listen in on our conversation and quickly depart to the other end of the arch so as not to draw attention to itself.

Geddon stopped walking. “Shani, knowing this, do you want me to try your spell?”

I searched Geddon's expression for any sign that this was some kind of test. It was not like Geddon to trick people or speak subversively. He almost always announced a test beforehand. But was his question concerning his point about interacting with people or using magic? If I wanted Geddon to test my theory, that meant I was willing to put him at risk.

“It's… up to you.” With my reply, the sun seemed brighter, the clouds seemed a little whiter and the grass a little greener.

The prince smiled.