Questing Sucks (Book 1) (22 page)

The lower half of the tree still remained standing, a humongous stump amidst the giants that only moments before it was a part of, now nothing more than an unexplained phenomenon in the middle of a forest. Sehn felt the bite of fear deep in his heart.

“I have just violated nature, an awful thing. I did it so that you may understand me, Sehn.”

“
Th
-
th
-
th
-that was nothing,” Sehn murmured. “I c-c-could do that in my sleep.”

Saerina laughed at him, and gave him a playful punch in the arm. Sehn flinched, a humiliating gesture. “I’ll take your response as understanding. It’s not your words that have ever bothered me, Sehn. If it were, then I’d have killed you the moment I met you. No, I care only for what lies in here.” She ran a smooth hand over his heart, and Sehn felt a heat building as the exotic Elf winked at him. “And I think I love what’s there.”

Nero didn’t seem to be observing the exchange, he was still watching with glee as the leaves and branches of the broken tree scattered everywhere. “Magic is so cool!” he shouted. He stood up from the ground, and smiled at Sehn and Saerina.

“Boy do I really wish I were like you two, especially Sehn! I wish I could hold out my hand like this,” Nero said demonstrating, extending his palm. “And yell Remmos Salas!”

There was a cry of surprise and pain as a ball of flame burst forth from Nero’s extended palm, zipping wildly through the air at a speed that rivaled Sehn’s. It shot through the dark forest, narrowly missing tree after tree, and even flying through a small crack in the bark of one. It emerged from the other end, and disappeared. Sehn had his mouth held open in shock, but Saerina only looked once again disappointed, only this time in herself. Sehn didn’t know what to say, or how to even begin forming words. He was saved from the need to speak by the sound of Daniel’s voice crying out in the night.

“Sehn!”
The voice screamed in agony.
“Again you did this to me! I’ll kill you Sehn! Ahhh! Put it out, put it out, I’m dying!”

Sehn didn’t know what to do, and from the looks of things neither did Cah’lia. Nero looked down at his burned, scorched palm, at his smoking fingers. The damage didn’t look bad, but it did look painful. His eyes began to tremble, his lips following in suit. Sehn knew at that moment, that Nero was going to do the thing he sometimes did. The thing Sehn didn’t know how to handle, the one that reminded him that even with his braveness Nero was still just a little boy.

Nero’s eyes widened as he watched the smoke leaving his hand. He wiggled his fingers, the worst thing he could have done. When Sehn had first learned the fireball spell, he remembered how painful the first spellcast was. Wiggling the scorched hand would only make it so much worse.

Nero’s eyes trembled, and his mouth wobbled just a little more. His eyes grew moist, and Sehn braced himself for the explosion, that thing that Nero sometimes did.

“
WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. CAH’LIA! IT HUURRTTS. MY HANDY HURTS! CAH’LIA! PWEASE HELP IT HURTS SO BAD.”

Sehn tried to cover his ears as the tears fell like a waterfall down the boy’s face. When he got like this, it could go on for hours, and hours. The first time Sehn had ever seen Nero react like this, was when he and Sehn had been climbing one of the older trees in Elvar, and Nero had gotten a painful splinter. Cah’lia almost murdered him, until Nero told her it was his own stupid fault.

Cah’lia rushed to her brother’s side, and gripped him in a tight hug. “It’s okay, it’s okay, shh, it’s okay, Nero. Let me see it, let me see it.”

“NO!”
he cried. Sehn wondered how there was even enough water in his tiny body to fit all those tears.
“YOU’RE GOING TO USE THE BURNING STUFF. WAHHHHHHHHH. I WANNA GO HOME. DON’T GO, SEHN!”

Sehn tried to sneak away, but Cah’lia gave him an evil look that promised great pain if he attempted to flee. Sehn was going to have to sit through this. Patrick, Rillith, and Prince Saerith came rushing to their side.

“Sehn!” Patrick roared at him. “This time you really have gone too far. Again, you have assaulted one of my men, and again you have set him on fire.”

Sehn growled. “It wasn’t me, Patrick. How dare you make such accusations?”

This time Patrick did not back down, growling right back at Sehn. “Oh, so now I am supposed to believe that a random fireball just slammed into Daniel from out of nowhere?”

Saerina stood, and Patrick gave her a questioning look. “It was the boy. Nero,” she said. “I was here for the entire ordeal. If you must blame someone, good Prince Patrick, please blame me. I should have instructed the boy in magic from the moment I laid eyes on him. I chose instead to put it off and deal with more pressing matters.”

Sehn watched as Patrick immediately reverted to his diplomatic mannerisms, going in an instant from furious to calm. “I see, my lovely Princess Saerina. Allow me to offer my apologies for my unsightly behavior.”

“All is well,” she assured him.

Cah’lia was holding Nero in a grip that looked to be more painful than the burn marks. Sehn struggled not to laugh, and failed. Cah’lia turned her head and snarled at him. “Find something funny, Sehn?” she snapped.

“I am just thinking about what Daniel must be feeling right now.”

Cah’lia twitched, and Sehn knew she too was trying to hold back the laughter. If Nero was hurting that badly from a little scorch, Daniel was probably once again in unbearable agony. It was the second time during their journey he’d been fireballed.

Chapter 23: Shina, the Lightning Goddess

 

Nero backed away from the princess, his ears wobbling. He was afraid of her, afraid of the way she looked at him with her examining eyes. Cah’lia and Sehn were looking at him in awe, but the princess only looked determined.

Since the day he met Sehn, Nero had always wanted to use magic, but he was told only one out of a million could do it. For years he dreamed about how awesome it would be to shoot fireballs like Sehn, and when he was alone he’d make believe he could. This time was different, this time he actually did it, and it hurt so much!

“Cah’lia,” Nero moaned, his hand still throbbing with a dull pain. “Why is the princess looking at me like that?”

Saerina advanced on him yet again, and Nero was backed into a tree. She really was one of the prettiest Elves, maybe even prettier than his sister. She was wearing a robe made from the finest Rezza-silk, and her ornate jewelry sparkled from the bit of sunlight that breached the tall trees.

“Nero,” she said. “You have a responsibility now. Once a person, be them Elven, Human, or even Dwarf, have casted a spell, they then become the property of the Order.”

Sehn raised an eyebrow and walked over to where Nero was backed against a tree. “The Order? What are you on about, Saerina? What does the Order have to do with anything?”

There was a dangerous glint in her eye. She rolled up the left sleeve of her robe, revealing her slender, smooth Elven arm, matching the same grace as the rest of her body. Running along from her wrist to the top of her arm, was a blue and gold tattooed marking in the shape of a staff, the tip of which was golden and alight with flame.

“There is a treaty that exists among the races of this world, one that common citizens have no knowledge of. You see, for many years those born with the ability to call upon her Grace—or magic, if you will—were found, and brought to the Order. Agents would enter cities, and drag them if need be. All born with the gift were subject to the Order. For many years this continued unabated, until a treaty was formed.”

She paused for a moment and looked at Nero, causing him to tremble. “In accordance with the treaty, two conditions must be met. The first of course, is that at least one spell must have been cast by the person in question. This spell must be cast of his own ability and will. The second is that they leave a city controlled by their own kind for a period of longer than two weeks, at approximately the distance we have thus far traveled. If these two conditions are met, then even if the caster retreats back into their own city, it no longer matters. No guards, politicians, or even kings may stop the Agents of the Order. They are within their rights to take you, and you can be sure that they will come for you.”

Nero tried to control himself, but he began wailing again. “Cah’lia!” he cried. “I don’t wanna be taken away.”

Cah’lia ran to his side, and embraced him in a tight hug. “Don’t worry,” she cooed. “No one is taking you, Nero.” She turned her head to face Saerina, carrying a wicked scowl. “That includes you.”

Saerina only smiled back, holding out her hands in a surrendering gesture. “I have no intention of taking your brother away. Quite the contrary, I’d rather see both him and Sehn as far from the Order as possible, especially given…” she looked over her shoulder at Sehn. “Well, you know.”

Nero had no idea what the woman was talking about, and he didn’t think Sehn did either, though from the looks of things Sehn didn’t seem to care.

“I don’t care about the Order,” Sehn grunted. “Besides, how can they even know that Nero just hilariously roasted Daniel? Oh, and by the way, Nero,” Sehn grinned. “I am very proud of you. Not only do you have magic, but you used it to cause another person pain and agony. Nothing could make me happier. I look forward to the day you stand beside me and together we burn the world down in flames and enslave it.”

Nero felt his heart explode with happiness, and he almost forgot about the pain in his hand. “Do you mean that, Sehn? That’s so cool! I can’t wait to destroy the world with you!”

Cah’lia sighed. “I don’t know whether to be happy for Nero, or laugh at the stupidity of those two,” she said to Saerina.

Sehn growled at her. “Silence, Cah’lia! We’ll see who you call ‘stupid’ when Nero and I are making it rain fire.”

Nero began to dance, ignoring his pain completely, and spinning around. “Do I get a statue too, Sehn?”

“Of course,” he said. “But only eight of them, and they are to be no larger than five percent of the height of my own statues. There will also be a—”

Sehn was cut off as Cah’lia covered his mouth with her hand. His lower face was no longer visible, but his eyes promised revenge.

“I’d like to hear the answer to the question Sehn asked,” Cah’lia said. “How will they know that my brother used magic? I’m only coming to grips with it myself. I’ve known Nero his whole life, and to suddenly find out now, it’s overwhelming. But how can these people somewhere across the world know?”

Saerina narrowed her eyes, and wore her usual penetrating gaze. “Sensors,” she whispered.

Sehn brushed off Cah’lia’s silencing hand. “What’s a Sensor? You know what? I don’t even care. The Great Sehn fears no Sensors, or whatever the fuck they are! Fuck Sensors!”

 

“Fuck Sensors,”
the Elf said, his image twisting and fading from sight in the murky crystal ball on top of her Mistress’s desk.

Shina squeezed her hands into fists, and tried to control her growing anger. Lightning crackled and shot from between her fingertips as she tried to calm her burning rage. “As arrogant as always,” she growled.

“Shina!” a woman’s voice called. “Has it been confirmed? Are there really two more of them?”

Shina turned to her mistress and bowed, planting one knee on the ground. “Yes, Mistress Orellia. It’s my brother and another young Elven boy.”

Orellia waved her to stand, and Shina returned to her feet. Orellia was a beautiful Human woman, tall, with fiery red hair and a very finely shaped body. Shina on the other hand, knew she’d blossom into a beautiful Elven woman someday, but for the moment was nothing more than an Eleventh-seasoned Elven acolyte, with dark green eyes and curly black hair. She was short for her age, and she hoped she’d grow to full height soon.

“Did you say that one of them was your own brother?”

Shina bit her lip in disgust. “Unfortunately, yes. One of them was Sehn, for certain.” Lightning and sparks began shooting from her eyes as she thought of her annoying brother. One strand left her pupil and gave a tiny zap to a Human bending over another desk next to her. He grabbed at his rump and jumped, rubbing it and turning to give Shina an angry glare.

“Shina, what have we been working on?” Orellia asked. “Control your magic. You can’t go throwing lightning bolts all over the place every time you’re angry. The injuries around here are really starting to rack up.”

They were in the Seeing Chamber. There were rows upon rows of large, red desks, each containing an expensive sight-crystal. It was here that they observed the world around them, finding new users of magic, and bringing them—capturing if they refused to cooperate—back to Magia, capital city of all things Magic.

Shina tried her best to look guilty, casting her eyes down to the floor, and curling her lips. She hoped she fooled her Mistress. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it.”

Orellia laughed, and gave her a playful slap on the rump. “You can’t fool me, Shina. I’ve been your instructor for almost four years now.”

Shina knew she was one of the oddest cases the Order had ever encountered. Just about every single person regardless of race tried to avoid capture. Shina was different, she wanted nothing more in life than to learn and study the forces of Magic. When she was just seventh seasoned—years old as the Humans called it—she snuck away from home, and traveled by herself to the
Jinkar
forests, a perilous journey for a child.

It was there she casted her first spell, and waited. For a week she camped in the forest, living off of edible plants and the occasional Moore-rabbit. Orellia was the first mage to show up, with two of her best students tagging along with her.

Shina had prepared for her arrival. The first sight Orellia had seen on arriving was of Shina, out in the open, and dressed in a version of the Order’s robes she had sewn herself. She’d gotten down on one knee, and begged to be accepted into the Order. Shina had known full well that most Magic users were accepted whether they wanted to be or not. Still, she wanted to hear it from one of their mouths, she wanted her dreams to become a reality.

Orellia had lifted her off her feet and hugged her, at the time a complete stranger. They’d bonded almost immediately, and the story had spread. Shina was not a unique case, yet Magic users seeking the Order on their own volition were still a great rarity.

“This is going to be a big problem,” Shina said. “My brother will never cooperate.”

Orellia laughed. “You should know by now, that there is no man or woman that can’t be broken and rebuilt. You’ve spent a great deal of time speaking about your brother, but I assure you that here in the Order we can change anyone.”

“You don’t understand,” Shina insisted. “Sehn isn’t like anyone in the world. You’d have a better chance convincing a rock to grow wings and fly. He’ll never cooperate with the Order. In fact, we’re better off taking the little Elven boy and leaving Sehn be.”

Orellia crossed her arms and gave Shina a stern look. “I know you well enough to know that you’re not telling me this out of loyalty to your brother.”

Shina nodded. “Of course not! I am dedicated to the Order, I love it here. If it really came down to it of course I’d rather my brother live the life he wants, but I’d never go against the Order to help keep him free. He stepped out of Elvar, and so now he’s in our domain. I’m only keeping the Order’s best interests at heart, when I say we should just let him slip through the cracks.”

“How bad can he be? Our Magistrates have made kings kneel before our feet.”

Shina sighed—her Mistress would not be satisfied with just her assurance. “Okay, let me give you an example, Mistress, if I may?”

“You may.”

“When I was five years old, my brother accidentally broke both his legs, poisoned all of Elvar’s water supply, and destroyed ten people’s homes.”