Legacy of Earth and Wood

Book II: The Brothers Sundered

Volume I: The Aspects of Magic

 By: Pei Kang

 Student Shing Tung Jing tried to make light while they were trapped in the School’s great dungeon.  She failed, fingertips burnt with the effort. The water already seeped deep into Feslen Raster, he shivered but held his cough.  He heard an odd sound and saw the young girl shudder, as if sick.  Then, he knew she was weeping, since it had been three days since their captivity.  After all the time spent training together, this was the first time he heard her cry.

‘My parents wasted money, effort and time on me as a girl and only child.’ Sobbed Shing- Shing.

‘Real magicians don’t cry,’ Feslen chided.

‘How would you know?  You couldn’t even pass the Written Exam!’ Shing Tung Jing giggled.

‘Real mages don’t need Written Exams,’ Feslen said, and snapped his fingers, which got her attention.

‘This, Shing Tung, is how a real mage makes magic.’  He raised his hand and flicked it, like he was fishing. Soft pulsating light expanded from his palms. The energy expelling from his hands eased the girl’s fright. Darkness of the room exploded into an array of light.

‘How…the teacher just demonstrated this spell three days and two hours ago!’

‘Because I am Magi.’ 

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Magic is a wilderness in which those who Know and have the Need explore, Feslen,” Master Drak said in a mild tone.

“It is for those who fear nothing and want all,” Feslen murmured, hands behind the back.

“Yes.”

Feslen didn’t catch the hundred year old Master’s voice of acquiesce and slight strangled tone. With slight sneer, he watched the students’ daily morning exercises in the courtyard below.

“And I want all and fear nothing, I am magi,” Feslen, the Initiate declared with a grin, a sudden overwhelming feeling pulsated through his body.

Master Drak did not reply and chill flowed through the room.  And the windows were closed.  No magic of any mundane means could enter the study without his knowledge.

This time, Feslen caught the old man’s involuntary shiver, and the grin turned into an elated smile.

 

 

Prologue:

 

Feslen screamed in denial through anguished pain when the sword of General Chou stabbed his flesh.  Rendering flesh, bone and artery crushed any hope of Feslen using his mundane magic and even his Ancient Truth.  The sword pierced Feslen snapping backbone while dangling on the Iron Fist’s huge weapon.

Feslen did not enjoy this feeling of fish on hook, but he and others could do little.  The huge general and his minions surrounded and surprised the companions.   “Ancient Truth!  Prophecy! I could take you all down with one swing of my blade.”

Blood and vomit dripped from the general, his stomach cleaved open by one of Feslen’s previous attacks, and one of Jungoo’s short swords stuck in his gut.  They managed to score the one major hit, and The Fist laughed pointing to the wound.  Duxan and the others gasped when the wounds on the general regenerated and rehealed.  “What magic is this?”  Jungoo whispered.  “Only the Ancient Ones have the power of regeneration!”

“How do you know this?”  Duxan asked, and Feslen looked at her in surprise.  The Ignanate woman clamped her mouth and refused to reveal any more secrets.   “It’s the New Priest’s magic, isn’t?”  Feslen gasped, feeling a vile presence surround him. It felt more evil than even Elhong Wien.

General Chou cackled.  “New Priests? Where do you think they receive their powers from?”

Lioin downed the last two minions of the gigantic general and studied the situation.  Duxan saw the low, beaten look upon the once optimistic boy, and knew what went through his mind.  Feslen risked his life to save Lioin, when the young man left his back unprotected against The Fist.  Duxan held his bloodied mace high, and backed to where Lioin stood; avoiding near-decapitation by one of the General’s long reaching spells.

“It’s ok, my brother chose to defend you and save his friend’s life.  You’ll do something utterly heroic soon, trust me.”  Duxan said, patting the young boy on his back.  Lioin nodded and smiled without humor.

“What are we to do? The Fists’s guarding the Orb-thing and his magic too powerful,” Lioin said.

Duxan ignored The Fist’s rants, insults and maniacal laughter.  He saw those as bully’s empty taunts, for some strange reason, his fear of The Fist diminished despite his brother skewered at the end of the man’s sword.   The Truth welled in Duxan and he fell into meditation without meditation, as his younger brother so often mentioned.

The Fist surrounded his body with metal; the land contains no rocks, no living thing, not even wood.  Instead of natural ground, The Fist followed Emperor Tsai’s orders and buried all earth and nature with metal covered plating.  Duxan smiled and said to Lioin. “My friend, go to the west side, you see that odd metal tubing?”

“The one that looks like a branch?”

“It’s right above Feslen and the Fist. You are the one small enough and dexterous enough to reach it.  Jungoo and I will distract the man.”

“So, Older Truth boy,” General Chou shouted.  “What are you going to give up for your worthless brother?”

“I am not chattel.”  Feslen growled, and lost some consciousness.  He fiddled with his dagger as subtle as he could, a trick he learned from Lioin.  Hiding the dagger in his most obvious pocket of his ripped Robes and had tied a near naked string to the end of it. The Fist checked his body for weapons already, but the Robes had two deep pockets, and one obvious one.  The dagger small enough to fit in a child’s palm, would slide down to the fingers with one flick of the wrist.  The trick being the offender not discovers this until the dagger gouged his eyes.  “A desperate thief learns a trick or two when incarcerated,” Lioin once told him.

Feslen spotted Lioin in the shadows and distracted The Fist with taunts of his own.  “You worthless pig!  You chain women and abuse them until they become Kishai!  What real man would do this?”

He pointed to the hundreds of naked spirit-women chained floating listless near the human general.   The Fist growled and gave him a shake, sending mind-numbing pain through Feslen’s battered body.  He waited for his body to regenerate, but for some reason, it did not, instead bled.  He felt the blood clogging and then unclogging.

“You are the worthless dog who pines for women and works as a slave for the Emperor!”  Feslen chortled, despite the agonized crushing pain in his lower ribs.

“How about trading your woman for this waif?”

Duxan nodded to Jungoo and she stepped forward. She undid the top of her shirt and lowered it half way, enticing The Fist. He frothed at the mouth. “You are more beautiful than these Eastern peasants, worth more than a thousand Yuan!”

Jungoo’s face contorted with rage, but she played up her part and cooed The Fist.  Duxan said.  “Why, I’m sure we can come to some conclusion.”  He noticed Lioin changing direction and head for the Orb!  What in the Name of Haven was that thief up to?

Duxan continued.  “Listen, I am not interested in your defeat.  I just care for my brother’s health.”

“That sounds like a good enough half-truth. You could be part of the Emperor’s army, he needs a new Sage anyway….” The Fist laughed.

Duxan made an interested sound, which all the companions, including Feslen cringed.  “Perhaps I will, if you free my brother and allow my friends to live in peace.  I heard your Emperor desires a challenge for his powers, his magical powers.  Perhaps my brother could learn from him.”

What in Dhai-Hahn’s name did Duxan want?  Feslen and the others looked at the older Raster brother, who went into the Fifth Dragon Step.  Feslen noticed the subtle rumble of the weather, as if the cloudy skies over Nu readied to pour.  This vibration came from the Earth herself, a peaceful and good feeling.  He was certain the evil and empty-headed General Chou could not feel it. Caught off guard, the young apprentice felt Lioin’s giddy presence.

Lioin sidled up to the trapped Feslen and whispered. “I got it, Fes.  Now, to get you out of here.”

Feslen did not hear his friend he lost consciousness and started bleeding to death.

Duxan nodded and then shoved Jungoo forward.  She felt the vibrations of Duxan’s earth powers as well and his gentle nudging of the grounds around them helped shift the soil.  Her lost sword neared her when she approached the giant human.  “How would you like a taste?”  She growled throaty, to The Fist lowered Feslen to the ground.

“Now!” Duxan shouted, his earth powers shifted and the ground beneath The Fist grinded, flipping him on his back.  Jungoo managed to get her lost sword back in her hand. She sliced into The Fist’s shin.  Lioin used his last rope and hooked Feslen around his upper body while grabbing onto the piles of rock thrown about by Duxan’s powers.  He pushed the rocks against The Fist’s arm, slamming them at the vulnerable fingers one at a time. 

“Look out!”  Duxan warned, feeling The Fist’s vile Moon magic and metal energies warp towards the boy thief.  The metal wrapped around the huge man like a giant snake entangled about a snake chamer’s body.

Lioin ducked in time and instead of pulling the rope around Feslen, he looped it around The Fist’s exposed neck just when the mighty man tried to get up.  Lioin did not choke him, but instead managed to use the rope to knock off the protective throat piece.  The Fist tried to crush Feslen to death with his massive hand.  Lioin climbed onto the big man’s arm!  He ignored the searing pain of the fire spells thrown at him and used his special silver dagger, slicing into the man’s pinky.

Even in a coma, Feslen’s Truth activated this time, and absorbed the fire spells and managed to tumble to the ground when The Fist released him.  “Let’s go!”  Duxan ordered, slamming The Fist with a loose boulder.  Exhaustion tolled Duxan, and not before The Fist cleaved off a bit of his left ear.

With the Orb in hands, the companions ran.  The mad general resurrected his undead minions and sent them after the retreating companions.  Duxan half-carried his brother as his own wounds healed, though he knew his left ear would never heal.  The vile touch of the evil man left him that way.  There has to be another way!  He thought; face grim when his healing touch entered Feslen’s broken body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our Story So Far: 

At the end of the harshest Winter in Chiendong and Hahn-Hah history, Feslen Raster the first of the Children of Prophecy to be rebirth left his hometown, Bilong triumphant.  He rescued his longtime childhood friend, Mei Xue Chai from the terrible clutches of the head New Priest, Elhong Wien; he helped longtime friend Prince Ka-Wei restore his lost honor by defeating the power-hungry Sorceress, Jerenko-I.   Feslen also realized his full potential by halting the First Doom Prophecy, Chaos Winds. He had been accepted, albeit a bit late to the famous Great School of Magic Stuff, under the tutelage of Mistress of the Pink Robes and even received an invitation from the mysterious sect of mages known as Chanters by the great Ohr-Hu Gai himself.

However, he lost his innocence along the way by murdering many of the soldiers employed by Elhong Wien, and losing loved ones like Princess Nadine of the Land of Nu, and Tang Swuai an assistant to Master Chai; and his mentor, Master Chai.  He vowed to make that right by atoning his sins by removing the curse from Nu.

However, when Feslen arrived at Nu, he discovered to his discomfort and horror, the true state of Nadine’s peoples…. Feslen’s small group suffered a crushing defeat and barely escaped with their lives.  They faced the powerful and insane General Chou and Feslen felt the stab of evil when the general’s sword pierced his flesh. Yet when he escaped, the young apprentice managed to recover a mysterious artifact of Nu.

Now, Feslen turns his attentions to the East, and attending Magic School at last.  He knows, after his failed attempt of redemption in Nu that his magic needs to be trained, or he himself, will fall to it.

What he doesn’t know is that, the enemy forces moves fast, the Emperor Tsai alerted to his successes and near success in Nu; mobilized Hunters and challengers to face young Feslen.  

And, so, our story begins with the heroes’ journey in the East.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1: Enter Initiate

 

 

 

            The companions retreated from the homeland of the deceased Princess Nadine called Nu, battered and bruised egos.   They rested within Chiendong’s borders, after their rough and long run from Nu. Most accurate, however, the ego of one young Feslen Raster deflated from their defeat in Nu.  And, his near-death experience at the hands of General Chou, the so-called Iron Hand of Emperor Tsai shook Feslen to the core.  Feslen held an oval-shaped vase like object made from coral and amber. This somewhat oval, metal plated object had curved handles at the top shaped into a dragon.  In its resemblance to a Dynastic Vase, it looked light thought it weighed heavier than a leather-bound book. When Feslen and his friends discovered this object, whatever it was, a faint magic hummed to the young man.  Jungoo Jeizen, the Ignanate gypsy woman used a Detect Magic spell and it radiated, barely, a faint orange color.

            Whatever this orb did, it cannot contain; as Duxan and the others assumed. They tried putting waterskins, water, fruit, and such in it.  Each time they placed the object in, the magic force in the oval-shaped object ejected the objects out from its open orifice. Since the object was fist-sized, and not awkward, Feslen held it on his way to the Great School of Magic Stuff.  He did want to put the object in his backpack, but Duxan and Jungoo objected with such heavy scolding, Feslen held it. A strange Chiendong tradition told travelers not to place objects of such great beauty and value within a simple pack.  This, according to tradition, diminished the value of the object. 

The friends wondered at its monetary worth, though Feslen did not do such a thing.   He suspected it to be a magical item, despite it not giving off any auras. Feslen understood the nature of magical items and thought it a container of spells.   He tried to place it in his pack, but failed.  A strong vibration prevented Feslen when he tried to force it in, much to the laughter of his companions.  Chagrined, Feslen let the object be, holding it in his left hand.  It was, as if, it had a mind of its own, thought it indicated little intelligence, like Prince Ka-Wei’s artifact sword. The friends spent half an hour coming up with a way to carry their prize.

            “Are you sure this thing is that important?”  Lioin asked, tapping it.  An eerie trumpet-like sound echoed from the hollow container.

            Feslen ignored Lioin’s question, for everyone knew the mages of Great School of Magic Stuff gave him a quest before he should enter the school. Finding, surviving and retrieving Nu’s magical artifact challenged him more than he thought it would.  He understood the reasons of the School’s tough tasks for all applicants. Feslen and his companions found no object in Nu with magic, but since General Chou, the Emperor’s right hand tyrant guarded this orb-vase with his minions, Feslen guessed the mages wanted this. 

The mages wished to grant Feslen entrance as an Initiate in a none-traditional manner. This caused a mighty buzz even before he placed foot near the School.  No one picked Feslen at the national ceremonial Choicings; he did not have family blood, reputation or his parent’s permission.  Yet, the Mistress of the Pink Robes, Tai-Hei Wong Fyo, endorsed him with full six-year tuition.  The School’s Masters allowed this to happen only once before in their entire history.

            Feslen frowned at his friend’s boorish behavior and said. “Leave it alone, Lioin. It’s an ancient artifact of the lost people of Nu. Have some respect, at least.”

            “What’s it worth?”  He asked, peering at it, and fiddling with the smooth surface, as if it were a spin toy.

            Feslen said. “I don’t know.  I’m sure Princess Nadine wouldn’t like it if you messed with her people’s stuff.”

            Lioin sighed and relented, sitting back down, rubbing his hips and lower back.  He turned away from Jungoo’s and Duxan’s concerned stares.

            “You all right, there, Lioin?” Duxan asked. “You want Jungoo to bandage your…wound there?”

            “No, thanks.  I can’t have a beautiful lady touch me there,” Lioin murmured.

            “You let Nadine heal you,” Jungoo pointed out, her full lips turned to a pout.

            Feslen grinned as he overheard his friends arguing and he snapped his fingers. “Look, remember how Ka-Wei looped his weapons?”

            Duxan nodded and started to take some silk handkerchiefs from Jungoo’s travel bag. He was well ahead of his younger brother in thought pattern. He ignored her protests, “Those are my Grandma’s Memory Silks!”  And tied them to Feslen’s school sash in a circular pattern.

            “Try it now, Kid,” Duxan said. Feslen smiled and thanked his brother and tied the odd container through with the silk loop.

            It worked.

            Feslen tied the magical container around the silk loop and it hung snuggly, almost as well a traveling lantern would.  “Now that, that’s settled, let’s go to the Great School!”

            Feslen and his companions broke camp and hurried off as the sun just began to peek over the horizon.

 

            The way the companions traveled and talked, an observer would not recognize their recent defeat and hidden worries.  Feslen glanced at his brother and friends, and wondered if they realized when he became a mage, he would not see them for several years.  Most mages find it hard pressed to have families outside of fellow mages. Or, so Feslen read in certain mage biographies.  He wanted to talk to Duxan about it, but his brother seemed to be on edge, for some reason. He knew part of Duxan’s unhappiness stemmed from his decision not to save Jungoo’s people, while he went all out to rescue Nu for Nadine.  But, what did Duxan expect? Jungoo means nothing to me, despite all her help in the past, Feslen thought.  He made a sour face and stared elsewhere. 

            Feslen hid his excitement when the companions entered the Eastern Lands. Prince Ka-Wei gave them a Traveler’s Pass to the entire Eastern half of Hahn-Hah before he parted from the friends. Ka-Wei informed them a Runner of the Emperor handed him this valuable gift before they met up.

At the border checkpoints, Feslen observed the Eastern peoples.  The Eastern people, who call themselves Liu Hohng as a whole, have little resemblance to Chiendonese, other than their short stature and always thin waists. Both sexes lowered their long dull flaxen hair down bellow their belly. Amber colored shells embroider their hair, curling it to look like waves of desert sands.  Their eyes appear Chiendonese to Far Westerner as consequence to locals the brothers looked foreign. The Liu Hohng people’s eyes do not slant, nor were they almond-shaped. Rather large, fish eyes blinked in sequential manners, much like the way torches flicker to random wind. Oval-shaped faces and large chins sprouted unlike the angular-faced Chiendonese.

            Feslen tried not to fidget at their distinctive body odor.  Most common Chiendonese had sweat and dirt as their body’s smell, and most rich folk used some sort of perfume to cover it. But, the Liu Hohnese guards smelled of hard work out sweat and days of grime. Long fatigue settled on these few border guards faces and body language.  Feslen asked the lead guard, “Why have your leader not given these men a break?”  These men looked, smelled and acted as those been on active guard duty for far too long.

            The lead officer who, stopped and questioned them chuckled. “Young Chiendonese, you do not understand our ways.  With the rumors of war and your kingdom going to lockdown, we cannot afford the chances of not protecting our kingdom.”

            “True but.”

            “Our soldiers are the elite, those given the duty to defend the borders,” the officer continued, pointing to the twenty or so guards.

            “Wouldn’t tired soldiers be the least effective protection?”

            The officer frowned at Feslen.  “Young mage, it is not for you to be concerned for our soldiers, or for you to question our ways.  If you know your histories, our soldiers are far more superior to yours.”

            Feslen stiffened, for some reason; the officer’s statement offended him.  He felt Duxan’s hand upon his shoulder and he relaxed.  He said nothing more and thought. I feel sorry for soldiers.  Their lives cannot be easy.  He tried hard to imagine the northern border patrols for the Eastern Kingdom and sympathized. He could not blame them for smelling the way they did.

            They wore little in armor, but carried several weapons. Some had hand-held crossbows, others two swords, and others still a long halberd. Each time the leader of the patrol guards ordered a halt.  The rest of his retinue stopped not speaking awaited orders.  They moved stiffer than chess pieces.  Feslen knew from watching Prince Ka-Wei, his men would be closer than family; they followed orders, but not to this point.  Ka-Wei’s men treated one another as friends and chatted even during the marches.

            Eastern guards comprised of both men and women.  The Chiendonese considered this taboo, mixing genders in all aspects of ‘manly’ work dishonored the person who allowed such a thing!  Amber amulets hung around the thick necks of the women, and jade hung down the men’s longer necks.  These amulets resembled the Chiendonese Lover’s Amulet, such as the one Tang Swuai gave him.

            Feslen fingered Tang Swuai’s jade amulet. He sighed and tried not to think about her.  One of the guards, a black-haired female noticed and smiled. She said in a thick accented tongue. “You know, if you weren’t careful, young man, one of our many available women may ask you to mate with her when she sees you.”

            Feslen blinked, and stared at her not comprehending.  He glanced at his friends and Jungoo grinned at him.  Duxan and Lioin shared a knowing smile, as Feslen shook his head.

            “Excuse me?” He asked.

            She repeated. “It is tradition for women to approach handsome young men, who seem to be of the advancement.”

            “Huh?” Feslen asked, blinking again.

            She chuckled and pointed to her amulet and took it off to show him.  Feslen glanced at her amulet.  It was made from bronze, and had an fake emerald in the center.  Instinct told him it was a fertility symbol.  “A fertility symbol?” Feslen asked, with a slight gulp as he talked.

            She smiled and said. “Duai.  Very wise and smart, young one.  You would do well to remember that amulets are considered fertile ground for young women, such as myself.”

            Feslen looked down at the ground.  Only one other woman ever flirted with him in his young lifetime his deceased friend, Tang Swuai.  The Eastern guards chuckled, as did Feslen’s companions.

            “Now, now, Zheui Uen,” said the stern officer.  “Don’t tease the Outsider boy.  Don’t forget, our fertility symbols also represent our vows.  His doesn’t.”

            The female guard named Zheui Uen, their U’s and “E’s” sound almost exactly alike to the untrained ears of the companions, shot back. “Ah, but, our people don’t mind having extra mates.”

            Everyone laughed at Feslen’s expense.  Here it comes, Duxan thought.

            Feslen suppressed the need to respond in anger and gave a slight false chuckle instead.  He knew he should not burst in anger, especially since he would be spending the next few years in their region!

            Duxan’s expectant look widened with surprise.  He expected Feslen to burst into anger, like he would in the past.  I suppose the Kid’s matured after all, Duxan thought.  He smiled at his little brother.

            Feslen fingered Tang Swuai’s amulet as the guards finished checking the passports.  They waved them in.  Zheui Uen gave him a little swat on the buttocks on their way in.  He blushed deep crimson and hurried away so he could get far away from the good-natured laughter of the guards.  He disliked laughter at his expense, even if it was good-natured!  He hoped the women in this region were not all outgoing or feisty…that would not be a good thing.

            Feslen sunk his head low while he rode ahead the group. He felt Jungoo’s huge grin at his back and could swear he heard Lioin laughing.  Feslen sighed and thought. This was going to be a long ride.

 

            The companions camped and rested for the third time this long journey to the Great School of Magic Stuff.  They rested near the mage city, Quan Zhou.  Feslen felt the need for it, and was weaker than before their journey started.  He believed encountering Nu’s curse and fighting with General Chou did not help.  Duxan and ungoo agreed, they too, felt weaker than usual.  “It’s as if the spirit has been burdened,” Feslen said.  Fortunately, the mild weather in the Eastern Lands eased the pains of defeat. The lush greens and temperate weather contradicated Chiendong.

            “Do you think the General cast a spell on me?”  Feslen asked Jungoo, while he kicked the moist ground. 

            “No,” Jungoo replied.  “Though, I am not an expert in magic, by any means,” she added.

            “I didn’t see the General cast spells.  I doubt his small brain would allow him to do so,” Lioin offered.

            “Thank you Lioin, but what do you know of spell casting?” Feslen asked with a grin.

            “There were some thief-magicians, if you can believe that,” Lioin replied, his voice sounding miffed and disgusted at the same time.

            Feslen apologized for his sarcasm and wondered at whether Lioin was disgusted by the magic, or by thieves using magic.  He believed his former theory. Lioin dismissed his friend’s concern with a wave of his hand.   Feslen eyed his companions and wondered why they accompanied him at all. Duxan, he knew, would follow him to the Black Depths and back, if necessary. But, why Jungoo?   Or Lioin?  Jungoo, he supposed, was more attached to Duxan than either of them would admit. She still wanted his services to save her doomed people. Long ago Feslen realized her people sent Jungoo away to be safe. Why else would her race, the Ignanate nomads send away the only gypsy daughter and Prediction Card secret holder to a strange and hostile country?   He thought it rather odd for Jungoo not to insist harder for them to go straight to rescue her people.  He believed she knew, deep down she knew, her peoples were doomed.

            Feslen sighed, and turned his attention to Lioin when Jungoo looked back at him.  He realized he stared at her too long and she returned a stare.   Why would Lioin come all this way?  Wasn’t he in some thief’s guild? Feslen wondered as he looked at his friend.  Lioin poked the embers with a stick. He made sure the fire kept burning and added more kindling.  There was still a lot about the young thief that Feslen knew little of.  His background, his reasons of becoming a thief and so on.  Most interesting to the young apprentice mage was why Lioin, who as a thief, would be intent on coming on this mission with them.  So, Feslen asked Lioin this.

            The young thief took his time to respond and avoided eye contact with Feslen when he responded.  “You know, it’s strange, I have asked myself that question many times.  I’ve always worked alone, even within my guild.  I’ve even gained a reputation by fellow thieves, naives and beggars as the “Shadow Cat.”

            Feslen nodded, remembering the nickname he told them he preferred to be called by earlier.

            “There’s something about you Feslen.  An aura, or perhaps its in our karmic destinies to work together and try and accomplish something worthy,”  Lioin said, his voice and face serious.

            Feslen opened his mouth to rebut the argument, but Lioin commented before hand and turned his head towards Duxan and Jungoo, who have been silently staring at the flames.  “Duxan, Jungoo, perhaps you can help clarify something for me.”

            “What is it?”

            “Well, I know you have kept up your religious studies and all,” Lioin began. “Is it not true that people’s karmas are tied in with one another, and there’s little you can do about it?”

            “So it is said,” Duxan agreed.  “But, you make your own karmic futures too, even if it may be written in some moldy old scroll.”

            Feslen knew that Duxan aimed the last comment for him, even though he looked in Lioin’s direction.  Feslen understood the implications of the comment and acknowledged his brother with a slight nod.  Lioin seemed not to have noticed.  The young thief kept stirring the fire.

            “I choose to go with you, Feslen, as does, I’m sure Jungoo here.  But, I know it’s my fate to go with you.”

            “Why?”

            “What do you mean why?”  Lioin asked.

            “Well, you can choose not to go with me. This mission to the Great School of Magic Stuff is for mages only, and I’m sure they won’t allow you in.”

            “Don’t be too sure,” Lioin said, and his face split into a smile.  “My thief’s guild needs to learn more magic anyway.  They’ve been looking for a new thief who understands magic.”

            Feslen detected a hint of laughter under Lioin’s voice.  He joked about his thief’s guild needing a mage!  Feslen grinned at his friend and chuckled.  Okay, so, you don’t have to tell me why you wish to come.  I’m glad you did, my friend.  Wish Ka-Wei came to help us.  He thought and gave his friend a light punch on his shoulder.

            Lioin smiled and went back to tend the fire.

            For once, the spring air was cool and comfortable.  The companions enjoyed their peaceful time together.  Little did they realize these past few weeks of peace will ebb away into faint memory.

 

 

            On the last day of the week, the tired companions saw the famous eight jade gilded flying buttresses of the Great School of Magic Stuff.   This was the mage city; Quan Zhou and the bustle of energy energized Feslen.   The smell of open sewage and horseshit did little to stop the young man from enjoying this.  Feslen paused and took the sight in, just as they walked over one of the largest hills of the Eastern Lands.  The blazing sun reigned high over the skies in the Eastern Lands making Feslen slightly dizzy with the punishing heat.  He did not relent this he fought for this opportunity. He lived for this one moment.  The years of suffering and torment vanished in this one glorious moment.   He raised his arms and lifted his head high and gazed at the heavens. He basked in this moment and a wide smile splayed his face.

The Magician’s blue flag waved gaily in response to his happiness on the main building of the Great School. Its Ying-Yang symbol glowed brighter than the sun. Sunlight reflected off the Great School of Magic Stuff brighter than light refracting off six mirrors. So, it’s true, Feslen thought.  He had only seen pictures and read accounts of his often dreamed of school.  Entire natural crystals formed the very foundation of the School!  Even from this far, Feslen made out the details.  Rare and fantastic seven-pointed crystals comprised the School’s exterior. Each pillar held up the Mage School resembled a theme or picture from legends of Chiendong. Sunlight hit the buildings shadowy reflections mirrored odd rainbow images.   The Great School of Magic Stuff had several buildings next to the main one.  Feslen wondered the function for each building.

            None of the School’s building extensions resembled the other, each specific and unique in design.  One shaped in a pentagram; a pyramid stood adjacent to its left.  Another building resembled a dragon, one other one in the shape of an hourglass, another a sword and staff shape.  Enshrouded mist covered the last feather-shaped building.  The buildings danced with light and darkness mirroring the souls of its inhabitants.  If the mages constructed their home with mirrors, or similar reflective materials, Feslen would not be surprised.

A surrounding moat of pure water and snow guarded the school.  The source of the constant swirling moat was unknown to Feslen and his friends when they looked for it.  At least, it was not visible by the naked eye.   Beautiful sage and oak trees also grew in harmony with the great magic school.  A variable beauty of nature lived near and around the school.

            “I never knew the mages were so harmonized with nature,” Jungoo said.

            “They had to be, after the Breaking Wars,” Feslen murmured.

            “What happened in the Breaking Wars?” Lioin asked.

            “Two mages battled for the rights to use the new-found magic power,” Feslen murmured.  “They became more and more powerful, and the resulting battle ended in the near annihilation of two countries.”

            “Their magical battle changed the face of the North and Northeastern lands,” Feslen continued.  He took a drink from his waterskin.

            “Oh,” Lioin murmured.  He shuddered and Duxan understood his friend’s reaction.

            “They stalemated and one might say, both lost. Peasants and upper elite folk alike persecuted the Mages as heretics. They agreed not to use their magic for evil again.  Of course, they said that in public. Because, one of them went away to form the Floating Isle of Mystic Magic,” Feslen finished.  He drank his water until the last drop.  He overturned his waterskin.

            “Come let us be on our way.  The Mages and I have an appointment.  They hate delays.”

            “Plus, this heat is killing me,” Lioin groaned.

            Jungoo chuckled and said. “You’d better get used to it, thief friend.  If you wish to travel more with our mage-friend here.”

            Lioin let out an even louder groan. The companions laughed to his reaction.

            Feslen felt dizzy, drunk and greedy for the intense magical powers he felt in this region. He smiled.  Someday, I will make them all pay! Feslen thought without realizing he thought it.

            Duxan glanced at his brother with silent worry.  I feel the same magic as he, and I am not drawn in the way he is.  I hope there is a sensible teacher in there.  I hope Master Chai taught him well.

 

            If the companions thought the Great School of Magic Stuff was something to behold from afar, when they reached its doors, utter awe and profound silence sank in them.

            Up close, not only did crystals encompass the walls, but translucent marble added a finite touch. Each wall shaped into patterns by their creator, deined of a glorious past unknown.  Rare metals and gems made up the bulk of the gate which opened inward like a normal castle gate.

            On the Great School of Magic Stuff’s ground, it sparkled like dew everywhere they went.  The odd silence seemed eerie if not mystical, and Lioin commented on that, drawing nods from Jungoo and Duxan.  Feslen did not pay attention though he focused his gaze on the ground. Feslen’s eyes narrowed on thought and then he stopped walking.  He snapped his fingers, drawing attention.  “The ground is made up of crystals too, maybe even the same ones as the buildings.”

            “Very good, young Feslen,” said a familiar heavy voice.   Jungoo let out a shriek as Fu-Seng, the Blue Yellow Robe appeared with two apprentices in tow.  The Great School of Magic Stuff’s gate had swung open in silence.

            Feslen grinned and said, “Sneaking up on a party of weary and wary adventurers might not be a wise idea, Fu-Seng.”

            Fu-Seng could not help but chuckle and his aged face became serious.  “First, address me with proper rank, young one.  Second, the gate opens for those admitted, you should know, mages do not sneak up on their welcomed guests.”

            “Right, like rats who silently eat your grain storage,” Lioin murmured.

            Feslen held his grin and said. “Forgive me, Fu—Fugitor the Pyromaster.”  He bowed in proper style as well.

            “Fugitor the Pyromaster?” Lioin asked.  “What a funny title.”

            “And, what do you find so amusing, young Cutpurse?”  Fu-Seng asked, his hairless face twitching in laughter.  His bright brown eyes twinkled.

            “Touche,” Lioin growled, face brightening to an ugly red.  “How do you mages know so much?   I hate being called ‘cutpurse’, even though that’s my title in the guild.”

            Fu-Seng grinned and said, “We mages must know everything and keep up with current events, young Cutpurse. Now, since you are Feslen’s friend, I won’t disbar you from entering. However, if your curiosity astray…”

            “Uhm,” Lioin said, and bowed many times. “I got you.”

            Feslen laughed out loud at his friend’s reaction, despite Lioin’s eyes promising instant death.

            “Welcome, young Feslen.  I trust your mission a success?”

            Feslen’s face went from laughing to instant seriousness.  He sighed a moment and said with pain. “If you think obtaining this was a success, when your promise…”  He let his voice trail off as he produced the odd Orb-vase.

            Fu-Seng’s eyes widened and he murmured. “Master Drak seems to be right about you all the time.  Few students, even those Choiced pass their First Quest.”    He chanted in a smooth, unbroken tone and his hands and arms did precise movements.  He seemed to be casting a spell, but none of the companions could tell, even Feslen. They exchanged puzzled looks.

            Then, Fu-Seng shouted, his voice enhanced by magic. “To Feslen Raster, congratulations on passing his First Quest!  He will now be known as Feslen Raster, Initiate Adept of the First Rank of the Great School of Magic Stuff!”

            “Wow, how long winded-a title is that?” Lioin whispered to Feslen.

            Feslen agreed and was about to say this to his friend when music blared from the air all of a sudden trumpeting his success.  It blasted the companions to an awakened daze.

            “Great, that’s what I need, to be woke up by trumpets!”  Lioin shouted over the din.  After the music became a softer tune, the companions looked to the right, as Fu-Seng pointed.  A large precision of mages of all ranks came to greet him.

            “Mei-Whuay would appreciate the colors.”  Feslen agreed with Duxan.

            Feslen felt a bit embarrassed by the lauding his fellow mages gave.  Out of the crowd, a familiar fat and stout middle-aged woman in Pink Robes came to greet him.  A jade and sapphire ring set upon her right middle finger.  She twisted it on occasion.

            “Again, you surprise us, young Feslen. Fu-Seng owes me five hundred for betting against your success,” Mistress Tai-Hei Wong Fyo said, laughter and true pleasantness in her voice.

            Feslen held a sigh and bowed and said. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Mistress of the Pink Robes.”

            Tai-Hei Wong Fyo’s eyes widened at Feslen addressing her in proper fashion and rolled her eyes at her friend, the Blue Yellow Robe who stood with a bashful smile.  “Please, young Feslen, as my prodigy, you don’t have to address me in proper manners.  Call me Tai-Tai, my daughters do, as do my nephews and nieces.”

            Feslen’s eyes widened and he stuttered, “But…but…Mistress…”

            “Enough, Feslen,” Tai-Hei Wong Fyo said with a half-joking stern voice.  “Call me what you want before you stumble over someone.”

            Duxan smiled at this woman’s manners.  She reminded him of their mother.  Good, perhaps she will be a good guide for my brother.  He studied the other mages and saw their faces.  He sighed.  His brother will have his most difficult challenge yet.  The mages, old and young tried to disguise their jealousy and anger towards the fifteen-year-old Feslen.  He will need friends. Duxan thought.

            Duxan moved closer to his brother, but backed off, realizing this might harm his brother more than do him good.  Instead he dropped back to where Jungoo and Lioin stood in silence.  He whispered to Lioin as soon as the mages walked in the school and began their quick entrance ceremony in honor of Feslen.

            “You may have to stay here whether they want to or not,” Duxan said to Lioin.

            The young thief nodded and said at the same time he did. “He may need real friends.”

            Duxan smiled at him, his eyes wide with surprise at how well the young thief read human expressions.  “Hey, it’s part of a job of a thief,” Lioin said with a smile and shrug.  They walked in the cool circulated air of the Great School of Magic Stuff.  This helped them all relax in an instant.  They observed the ceremony given to Feslen.

 

            “Do you, Feslen Raster, swear upon your soul, heart and honor to uphold the Rules, the Ways of Magic and the Laws of Nature so you can live in your chosen Art?”  Mistress Fyo said.  In her right hand she held a book engraved with a pentagram etched in Ancient Chiendonese and magic.

            Duxan surprised himself when he read the title of the book aloud. “Edicts of Magic, Bound by Eternal Life and Death.”

            Lioin gave him a startled look. “I didn’t know you read ancient language, or magic.”

            “Neither did I.”

            “You’re a Child of Prophecy,” Jungoo reminded him, and Duxan fidgeted.  They kept quiet and listened.

            “I uphold the Truths that are presented to me,” Fu-Seng said to Feslen, who held up his right hand.

            Feslen repeated that statement and turned to Mistress Fyo by saying, “I will do my best to let the magic flow through me.”

            She smiled. “Feslen Raster, Initiate Adept, you are hereby given certain rights and access to this great school of ours.  At all times, must you report to your superiors and learn through traditional means.  If you break the laws of magic, set by the people and the magicians of this school, you will be held without trial indefinitely. Do you understand?”

            “I do,” Feslen said in a voice empowered by the magic in the great halls.

            “As every mage who follow the Rule, Feslen, you, even as an Initiate, if you see a fellow mage or a newcomer mage to our Realms must alert us,” Mistress Fyo said.

            “Of course,” Feslen said.

            “And, if you see a mage of any kind break our Rules, you will inform us before performing Righteous Justice upon him or her,” Mistress Fyo continued.

            “Of course,” Feslen added without hesitation.  “This world has no place for rogue magicians.”

            Mistress Fyo smiled. “I, the second highest ranking mage in Great School of Magic Stuff, do officially pronounce you in our school. Welcome, Initiate Adept, Feslen Raster!”

            She handed an official scroll with a pentagram and Ying-Yang seals to Feslen.  He held it up for everyone to see.  A brilliant magic aura exploded around Feslen and the audience burst into a loud ovation.  A large whispering roamed through the crowd in the aftermath.

            Duxan, Lioin and Jungoo looked on in amazement and wonderment.  Feslen explained later the scroll announcement tested the amount of magic in every new initiate.   It made sense to the friends, given the mages’ reaction after the scroll ceremony.

            Feslen sighed in relief as the mages left, after congratulating him.  Mistress Fyo said. “I’d like to see you in private after the Powers that Be talk to you.”  Feslen nodded.               Duxan felt his brothers’ emotions and said. “Congratulations on achieving your dreams, Kid…Feslen.”  He stumbled over his brothers’ kid nickname.  It just did not seem to suit him now that he was full-fledged mage!  Feslen still stared at the departed entourage and shook his head.  He could not believe the nonsense he just went through.

            Feslen waved it away with nonchalance and said. “I am only an adept.  A lot of things could happen between now and six years from now.  Congratulate me when I have an official Mages’ Robes and my own wizard’s tower.”

            Duxan chuckled lightly he heard his brother’s arrogance and confidence.  But, he knew Feslen was right.  He said, however, to lighten the moment. “To my brother, a mage and wouldn’t Ai-Yen be surprised, soon a productive member of society!”

            Feslen grinned at the joke and laughed.  He turned to his brother and raised his hand in an imaginary wine-drinking ceremony and said. “To our family, and hope they have many more healthy and successful years than I.”

            “No, little brother.  You deserved it. To you!” Duxan said, raising the imaginary wine glass.

            Lioin and Jungoo let out a startled gasp when a set of fine wine materialized from the air and within their midst.  Feslen and the others looked about, to see which mage cast the spell.   Lioin eagerly dug in, but Duxan joked. “Hold on there, you’re not old enough to drink, are you?”

            Lioin chuckled and protested. “I’m sixteen!  Plus, in true Chiendong style, all men, however, old or young and stupid, drink!”

            Jungoo laughed and Duxan said with a grin. “Fair enough, old man.”

 

            Duxan gave a low whistle at the collection of wine he saw and noticed a very good bottle of wine.  It did not have a fancy bottle or cork, just as plain as the other ones.  He saw the young thief reach for the wines first and was about to say something.  But, he stopped himself, and watched what Lioin would do.  He saw Feslen crack a grin as Lioin searched among the six bottles of wine and basket of fine cheeses and shrimp dumplings.

             What an odd assortment of meals, Feslen thought.  He wondered if the wine and cheese was a tradition borrowed from the Far West.  It was not a Chiendong tradition, at least, not one he heard of.

            Lioin reached for the second bottle he saw. He whistled, “Sixteen Forty Three from Shujang Province.  Wow, good year, good wine.”

            Duxan’s eyebrows went up and laughed. “Since when would you know about wines, Lioin?”

            Lioin laughed, and tried to open it.  “I stole this bottle once from a very angry merchant.  Don’t know why, since I needed the money, he didn’t…until I found out from my pawn man that this was worth more than a King’s ransom!”

            Feslen laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”  Jungoo, Lioin and Duxan shared a laugh. Duxan helped open the bottle with ease.  Feslen saw in the shadows stood Blue Yellow Robe.

            Feslen nodded his thanks to the man and he tipped his head in acknowledgement.  He left the friends to celebrate.  Feslen thought. This may be the last chance I get to be happy with my friends.  Better make some use of it.

            When they finished and readied to go, Lioin said to Feslen. “Hey, didn’t you wear green robes before you came?”

            Feslen nodded and looked down, eyes widened.  His Yellow Robes of the Initiate Adept gleamed like dew off windowpanes.  He gave a breathless sigh. How wonderful!