The Winter Letter (8 page)

“Lord Markus had no idea what was going on in the city, but he sensed something was different, so he delayed his return. When he learned of the new King he hid east of the peaks, mostly underground, and recruited a few men to aid him if war came. A few years later the raids began, so Lord Markus began to build his army. We now call him the Under-King, and we are the Under-Kingdom. Our goal is to reclaim the throne of King Neba.”

“Where’s Lord Markus now?” asked Will.

“He has been in seclusion for a few years now, working on a spell that will have the power to turn the tides in our favor. King Mel Masih is extremely powerful. Not to mention those huge walls he built around the city. But, Lord Markus is working on something day and night, and I know he will succeed.” 

Gatnom crossed his arms and leaned back. He grinned before he spoke. “Master Jared is the personal guard of the Under-King. He is in charge of the mobilization of the army.” 

Gatnom stared at Will waiting for him to get it. 

“What?” Will asked.

“Will, Magi are ranked in the army by how well they do in the War Games, but they don’t let just
anyone
join the games, only the best. The only reason we are being allowed to go is because Master Jared is our guardian
and
the personal guard of the Under-King. It is such an honor! We will be the youngest team competing!”

“You mean we will be the youngest in the army?”

“Yes! Isn’t it exciting? I’ve dreamed of the war-games for years, to be a part of what is coming! We will change the whole world for the good!” 

From atop the staircase there was a rustle. “Gat, you down here?” said a young voice from the tent entrance. A girl, the first girl Will had seen here, with light mocha skin and dirty blonde pigtails descended into the room two steps at a time. She wore pants cut off at the shins that looked like blue jeans, except they were no longer blue, more brown and green (all the colors of dirt). Her shirt was teetering between white and brown with the short sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, and her shoes were shin-high lace-up black boots with wide laces and thick worn soles. Hanging from her left wrist was a small and round silver mirror that looked like it snapped open and closed. 

She didn’t wait to be introduced. “Hey! I’m Wohie!”

“I’m Will,” Will said. He made a move to shake her hand, but Wohie slapped it, bumped it with her knuckles, spun around, and snapped. Gatnom laughed.

“Ya know, if you’re gonna be on the team you’re gonna have to learn that,” Wohie said seriously.  

Will looked at the girl standing next to Gatnom. It couldn’t be.

“Will meet Wohie. She’s the third part of our team,” Gatnom said. “Like you, she’s just old enough to qualify.“

”That’s me!“ said Wohie with a smile and a wink.

“How old are you?” Will asked.

“I am almost eighty-two percent sure I’m already close to passing the exact age of thirteen.” 

“What?” When Will finally got it he rolled his eyes. Wohie didn’t notice.

“Don’t worry man; we’re gonna show you all the ropes,” she said. She stood very straight, with both hands propped on her hips.

”It is true that we don’t have much time,” said Gatnom. “The tournament is coming soon. You’re gonna have to learn fast.”

Gatnom grabbed the open book from the table and handed it to Will. It was thick and heavy. “We’ll skip all but one of the books for now, but this one we can’t skip. This
must
be read before the ceremony.“

”Ceremony? What ceremony?“ Will asked.

”The Awakening Ceremony. It’s how you become a magi. We must awaken the magic in you.“

”Awaken?“

”Just read the book. It will answer all of your questions.“

”What will I have to do?“

”First thing, read this,“ Gatnom said with a smile. Will got the point. 

”Okay. Just one more question: when’s the ceremony?“

”Tonight.“ 

“Tonight? Already? You mean I’ve got to read this whole thing today?” Will arms were already tired from holding the big thing.

“Yes,” Gatnom answered. He looked confused. “Is that a problem?”

“Oh no! Not at all!” said Will. He shook the large leather book back and forth in front of Gatnom. 

“Good,” Gatnom replied, not getting Will’s sarcasm.

“Don’t worry Willy, you can do it man,” Wohie said. She punched him softly in the arm.

“It’s Will,” Will said.

“Will... hrm... No, I like Willy better. Willy it is.”

Gatnom laughed again. “Go ahead and find a quiet place to read. Stay close to camp; it’s not safe to wander off. When it’s time for the ceremony we’ll come get you.”

Eleven
The Grouchy Book

After quite the search Will found a tree who promised not to read over his shoulder. He leaned up against it, laid the heavy book in his lap, and flipped open the cover. The book wasn’t divided into chapters, but sections, long scary sections with no page numbers. Will opened to the title page and introduction. 

THE MAGI

The arts of the Magi Faith are older than any world we know to have ever existed. It started before history was recorded and has survived every age since. The earliest accounts were recorded and kept by an ancient gardener from the land of—

Will slammed the book shut. As he had been reading the old ink had started to glow neon blue, and the same light had begun leaking from the rough edges of the paper. He looked up at the tree, who quickly looked away.

“I know you were looking. What should I do?” Will asked.

When the tree knew he had been caught he answered, “I didn’t see anything. The letters are too small.” 

“What? You didn’t see that light?”

“Um… no?” The tree said, wondering if he was giving the right answer.

Reluctantly, Will creaked open the book and began to read again. Just like before, the pages started to glow, but this time Will fought the urge to slam the book shut. Within a minute he was completely surrounded by a blue cartoonish fog, and out of the blue a sentence appeared and a voice spoke.

“The Arts of the Magi Faith are older than any world we know to have ever existed—”

“Cool,” Will said. 

The voice stopped.

“Hello?”

“Are you finished with your interruption?” the book asked.

“Geez. Sorry.”

The book continued, skipping past the introduction. “Section One: The History of the Magi Faith Arts...” 

The book cleared its throat. 

“When Pugian was first created the King of All set up the systems all of Baru is governed by to this day. One of those systems is called Al’Dun— Al’Dunim— 
Al’Dun`amis
.” The book had trouble pronouncing the last word. It did it’s best (which was far from correct), then said, “Today we simply call it 
The Arts of the Magi Faith
. The early history of our world, including the first instances of Magic, from the first song ever sung and the first cloak ever worn, are recorded in the single volume, The 
Collected History of Bar
u.”

The narrator paused. Will heard pages flipping.

“Section Two,” the book said after the pages stopped. “The Proper Use of Magi—”

“Wait, that’s all?” Will asked. “Section one looks a lot bigger than that.”

“We don’t have that much time, 
now do we
?” said the book matter of factly. “Now, as I was saying...”

Will mockingly mimicked the 
now as I was saying
 part.

“Section Two: The Proper Use of Magic.

“The most important rule for the Magi is that power should only be used to right wrongs that haven’t happened yet. The urge to change the past can cause a Magi to loose his mind, and using magic for selfish gain at the cost of others is nothing more than setting a trap for yourself.”

Here, another voice, more high pitched than the first (if that was even possible), began speaking, and a balding man’s torso (except with a head) appeared - complete with a name tag that read 
Lord Patrooni
.

“The greatest enemy is often yourself,” Lord Patrooni said. “And, one should always know his enemy well enough to know the motive for his enemies actions.”

Lord Patrooni faded into the blue, looking quite proud he was being quoted. The grouchy voice returned. 

“The danger of using magic in wrong motivation is immense because of its strong ability to corrupt.”

At this point scenes (like a movie) began to show in the fog. These were not read, but re-enacted by not so good actors. Each story featured a Magi, or Dragon, or Princess that decided to use magic for their own purposes. Every single one ended with bad things happening to innocent people and even worse things happening to the one who misused magic. Some of the stories were hard to watch.

Once the actors bowed out and disappeared Will heard a small commotion coming from within the book.

“Yes, yes, I understand that, but I think it better if I take it from here,” a different voice said.

There was a small protest, but then the first voice agreed. “If that is what you think is best Professor.”

“I do.”

“Section three is titled, ‘The Carrier,’” the new voice said. This voice made Will sit up and pay closer attention. It was older, with a British accent, and sounded more gentle and dignified (much unlike the previous story teller who had sounded like his nose was stopped up and stuck up in the air).

“As you read stories of magic you will find it is always kept in a staff, or wand, or ring, or other inanimate object. This is for the world’s protection. If a magi turns evil the authorities must have a way to take his power away. Therefore, magi are powerless apart from their carriers.

“The carrier cannot be a person, as that would be much too dangerous. It cannot be an animal, because that can turn cruel and the death of the animal would end the magic. Instead, it must be some object the person cares much for. Therefore, the only types of objects able to be used are ones which hold memories the magi wants to keep."

The new narrator stopped.

“Do you have any questions William?” he asked.

“No, sir—I mean Professor,” Will answered.

“Very good. Where were we? Ah yes, The carrier is bound for life to the magi in a special ceremony (which we’ll talk about in the next section) and if ever the carrier is lost it will try to find its way back to its magi. However, it is possible for a magi of greater power to hold another magi’s carrier captive, although it is very difficult to achieve for any lasting amount of time.

Concerning death, in the event the magi dies the magic remains in the carrier, but cannot be used until the carrier decides (in its own way) to release the power to another magi.”

“Section Four—”, 

“Umm Professor.. uh.. Book?” Will asked quietly.

“Yes?”

“Can I have a minute to digest this?”

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt your lunch?” the book asked nicely.

“No, no. I need to think about it, it’s alot to swallo—I mean it’s a lot to understand.”

“Well sure,” Professor Book replied.

Will sat for a moment, reading the words for himself. 

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Section four: The Ceremony,” the Professor said. “Magic is never born into a person, but must be passed on from an elder magi in a special ceremony called 
The Awakening
. It is true that second and third generation magi often experience a phenomenon called the 
double portion
, where at death the magic of the parent magi is passed on to their children, but the ceremony must be performed none the less. It is advised that only more experienced magi attempt to perform The Awaking ceremony because of the unpredictability of the process. The Arts of the Magi Faith are complex with a number of factors to consider, much more than can fit into this small book.”

Will looked down at the book. Small?

“The ceremony goes as follows: The elder magi lays his (or her) right hand on the heart of the apprentice. Then they impart one small portion of power using the ancient name of the system, Al` Dun`amis.” 

The new teacher spoke the words perfectly.

“These words will activate the magic inside of the apprentice as well as bind them to their carrier. The only two requirements of the apprentice magi is he read this book and memorize an ancient poem (which has been translated to the modern language). This poem is to be recited at the ceremony as an oath.”

Here the nice Professor paused. He sounded like he took a drink of water. “William, this next section is very important. You should pay close attention.”

Will nodded and leaned in to listen. The blue fog turned red just as the Professor started speaking.

“Section Five: A Warning. This section starts with an ancient story from a far away world...” 

The narrator’s voice faded out as a scene of a young prince sitting on a massive throne faded in. A servant was prostrate in front of the throne. The servant was hideous, more like a creature, and he was trembling as he spoke. 

“Sire, there is some resistance to your latest orders. I’m afraid there is a small uprising, my Lord.”

“What do you mean, uprising?” the Prince asked. His words were sharp and loud. The servant shuttered as he spoke, almost as if he was afraid he would be cut by the prince’s words.

“Sire, they are fighting back,” whimpered the servant.

“WHAT?!” the Prince screamed. “Do they actually think they can resist my rule?!”

“No one could think such a foolish thing Sir—”

“This world is mine!” the Prince screamed as he jumped to his feet. Jewels fell to the ground from his lap, and his black cloak flapped open. The Prince lifted his hands in front of his face and admired ten glowing red rings. “I did not kill my father and take his throne so a band of worms could take it back!” His face distorted into a scowl as he spoke and twigs of lightning flashed between his fingers. The creature on the ground shuddered. 

Suddenly the Prince looked curious.  “Tell me Filth, how are they fighting?”