The Lost Mage

The Lost Mage: Getting Lost – Act One

Caradesance progressed on its course around Heilbronn, whilst it played tug with its little sisters. A recreation that had been going on for a few millennia. None of this though was even remotely remarkable in the grand cosmic scheme of things.

{But planets do what planets do, who are we to argue with their way of life.}

Although if it wasn’t for the fact that all the world’s exo-relatives contained lifeforms as well, then our favourite planet would have been a beacon of hope. In what was otherwise only a minor magical universe, no bigger than a nebula.

Heilbronn continued to spit waves of adoring heat towards the planet. As Caradesance collected the waves with joy, it kept on turning. A huge elemental plasma blast built up on Heilbronn’s surface. And out of nowhere, the magically charged sun constructed of plasma fired the energy outward.

The highly infused waves struck the planet’s upper atmosphere as the citizens of the Royal Kingdom opened their eyes. The planet’s magnetic biosphere blocked everything harmful out, whilst the high intense burst of magic collected within the planet’s four natural elements. As they became entangled with the planetary airstream first, the winds caused the trees to sway. The elemental flow, which already stored too much within its cycle, could not stay tranquil. And as such, this extra pressure on the air system started a natural magical cyclone which quickly swept down from the mountains.

‘Marx!’ Pip screamed whilst he struggled to stand upright in the meadow. The winds, which had arrived out of nowhere, had collected Marx with a violent force, sending his only friend high into the air.

As he was now left standing alone, unable to escape the onslaught of nature, Pip tried to look around himself. Each flurry of wind that rolled down the black rock of the mountains concealed the trees with a thick mist, which blinded Pip. And caused him to lose sight of where his friend could have fallen. Although Pip struggled to forget about his friend’s situation for a split-second, and sought to cover his own head from the pebbles being thrown at him by the angry gusts.

Pip called out his friend’s name once more, but as he did so, not a single syllable escaped. A storm mage’s voice, even a journeyman’s, would normally have been carried on the wind. But as the novice tried to call out once again, his face turned a shade of purple from the effort. Gusts of sharp winds then took the air out of his lungs, which caused him to choke and splutter as he struggled to breathe.

With each second that passed, the young mage tried to push towards the treeline, barely able to see the dark silhouettes that were comprised of trunks and leafs. A frozen rain began to pour and quickly drenched his red hair. The large droplets pelted his flax blue shirt and blue kilt as they soaked him.

Whilst a strong wind pushed him further down to the ground, his boots already filled with water became caked with mud. And as the gusts became violent gales sharp enough to cut his skin within a few seconds the lad tried to call out to Marx once more. Although blood leaked from several minor cuts as the black sky flashed white three times. The flashes lit up the mage’s green eyes. And caused the mist to become a deeper shade of black as the elements of magic mixed in the air.

‘No, not now,’ Pip thought as he watched the sky with a morbid fascination.

What little magic was within him struggled harder than before to search the valley. As it slowly did so, every muscle in his body vibrated from his use of the spell. Every drop from his internal well of magic bled dry with repeated use. Whilst Marx was still out there and likely injured, which for some reason caused Pip to cry out in panic.

Another massive downpour began in less than a second and saturated the ground. As the rain fell, both his feet sank in the mud and the novice struggled to get free. The ground swallowed his one leg in the struggle. And as it became almost fully submerged, the winds unleashed a pressure of force against his back. His entire upper torso then clashed with another gale which began to push him to and fro. Panic rose in his throat. Fear gripped his stomach, and as it did so, it released a flutter of butterflies which began to fly around within.

Each gust that attacked the lad caused extensive pain to his hip joint. However young Pip felt even more fearful, his leg twisted and began to cause him to scream silently to the storm. And as further gusts beat him, he began to wish that he was safely back in the college behind his books.

The sky flashed white once more, whilst the rain swiped at the novice. With each gust, both his cheeks became red from the abuse. The constant flashes of lightening caused him to unexpectedly go blind. The shadows of the trees were replaced by thick black lines. Pip could smell the magic in the air; a strong aroma of grass and ozone, which also assaulted him. Even though it was a sweet, almost metallic scent which calmed him at the same time. Although the smell as it washed down from the mountains of Mist entwined within the elemental forces of nature. And these raw natural magical blasts as they washed over the soaked young novice caused him cry.

The pressure snapped around him, and the air sucked his leg out of the ground. With his boot freed, Pip’s brain began to cross at multiple purposes. All his determination was focused on finding a way out of the storm. His escape became visible for a fraction of a nano-second whilst the sky flashed once more. The sky suddenly flashed a bright green. Only to be followed by a deep crimson shade, which Pip wasn’t able to appreciate as he was thrust high into the air.

All of a sudden there wasn’t anything to grasp. The smell of the wet grass no longer danced around him, and all sound vanished. Even the ringing in his ears. Each thought that then formed told him he was dead. Although the young mage could still feel the raw natural power of the elements on his skin.

{Weightlessness. It was all Pip could discern.}

A voice followed the feeling of pins and needles on his skin. The voice didn’t enter through his ears though, but still left his lips,

‘Is this the afterlife?’ No one answered the question or gave him any response. But Pip felt safe and sound, as if his mother was holding him.

A deep blackness smacked him in his face. The colour left him with a headache and confusion. But without warning, the novice began to feel sick. Which caused a strange sensation to form within his throat. Before a bizarre drilling pain happened in his right ear and left through the other. Pip felt confused about everything currently happening as his internal thoughts continued to scream.

The blackness then hit him again.

The stench of salt snuck up out of nowhere. The novice moved about blindly as a strange substance stuck to his wet face. Even more of the tiny grains gathered as he tried to rub. The young mage stopped moving about as a wave of tiredness rapidly descended through his body. The feeling forced him to collapse into the sand, whilst both his eyelids fastened closed.