The unsuspecting mage ms-1 Read online

  Sausage, eggs and biscuits are already on the table. His grandparents had been nice enough to wait for him before eating. “My, don’t you look nice,” his grandmother says.

  Coming to the table, he gives her a grin. “Thanks. I better eat on the run, or I might miss my bus.” He throws together two sausage, egg, and biscuit sandwiches. Wrapping them in a napkin, he heads for the back door. His grandmother’s “Good luck, James!” follows him through the door.

  He hurries down the road to the bus stop where he’ll catch the 512 and manages to finish his breakfast before arriving. Dave is already there, waiting.

  “Good morning,” offers a cheerful Dave. He’d always been a morning person, which usually irritated James.

  “Good morning yourself,” growls James somewhat moodily. He definitely was not a morning person.

  Keeping an eye out for the bus, Dave says, “I hear they have a new laser tag area at the arcade. Wanna try it after your interview? The loser pays for lunch.”

  “You’re on, I can almost taste the burgers now,” boasts James as he, too, keeps a lookout for the 512. When he sees it turn the corner he announces, “Here it comes.” Picking up his backpack he readies to board the bus. The 512 pulls up and they have to wait a moment while an elderly woman departs before they can get on. Showing the driver their passes, they move to the back of the bus and take their seats. The 512 will take them most of the way before they’ll need to transfer to the 33 for the last leg to Commercial Avenue.

  When the bus pulls out of the stop, Dave glances to James. “Nervous?”

  “A little. I’m glad you decided to come along; it’s partly the reason I am even here. When I woke up this morning, all I wanted to do was lay there. But knowing you were going to be at the bus stop waiting for me helped get me out of bed.”

  “I thought so, that’s why I’m here,” Dave grins. He’s glad that he could help his friend.

  “You know,” Dave begins after a few minutes, “you didn’t have to go and kill my thief that way.”

  Feigning indignation, James asks, “What do you mean? Is it my fault the guy had an IQ of a turnip? He never should’ve rushed in like that. He was greedy.”

  “Maybe. But I’ve been playing him for over a month now. He was all the way to level five.”

  “Oh well, that’s life.”

  As they get closer, James turns quieter as he dwells more upon the upcoming interview. Dave makes a couple attempts to get him interested in further conversation but his mind really isn’t on it. Finally, Dave gives up and they ride the rest of the way in silence.

  When the Park and Ride is announced where they need to transfer to the 33, James grabs his backpack and pulls the cord. When the bus pulls in, they disembark and go over to a nearby water fountain for a drink.

  Dave glances at his watch. “About five minutes before the 33 shows up.”

  The 33 does a loop through downtown and passes right down Commercial Ave. Going over to Berth 4 where they will board, James and Dave stand in line behind several other passengers. Dave nudges James when he sees a pretty girl wearing short shorts and a snug t-shirt, but James is too preoccupied with what lies ahead to pay much attention. The mere thought of the interview is making his stomach do flip-flops.

  Once the 33 arrives, they board and take the last leg to Commercial Ave. Had James been alone, he would have stayed on the bus. But since Dave is there, he pulls the cord when a tall building bearing the numbers 1616 comes into view.

  The bus pulls to the curb at the next stop half a block away. Butterflies were congregating in James’ middle as he steps to the sidewalk and turns toward 1616 Commercial.

  Dave slaps him on the shoulder. “Come on. It won’t be that bad.”

  James gives him a half-hearted grin and nods. The butterflies in his stomach were turning into vampiric bats.

  Passing through the front door, they cross the lobby en route to the elevators and Dave presses the UP button. While they wait, Dave notices James looking at the building’s list of businesses. When he moves to join his friend, James glances at him,

  “There’s no listing for 2334.”

  Dave shrugs and says, “Maybe they just moved in and haven’t had time to get the sign adjusted.”

  “You’re probably right. Or maybe they don’t want to advertise who they are. That way if they are well known and rich, the applicants won’t know to ask for more pay.”

  Shaking his head, Dave says, “You and your conspiracy theories. You always think someone is playing an angle or something.”

  Shrugging, James just smiles.

  Ding!

  The elevator door opens and they enter along with several others. James presses the button for the 23 ^rd floor. It takes a few minutes before they arrive as the elevator makes several stops to allow people on and off. By the time they reach the 23 ^rd floor, they are the only ones remaining. Another Ding! and the door opens. Stepping out, they turn down the hallway to their right and come to the door marked 2334.

  James pauses at the door. He turns to Dave. “Should I knock or what?”

  “Naw, just go on in.”

  Marshalling his courage, James opens the door and enters. Dave follows right behind. The room is empty except for several chairs and two end tables, each boasting a neat pile of magazines and a couple books. Across the room a door stands closed; it bears a sign saying Private in bold letters.

  “I guess we should sit down and wait.”

  Dave glances at the door. “How are they going to know that we are here?”

  “There’s probably an alarm on the door. Someone will most likely be out in a minute.”

  Looking through the material on a nearby table, James fails to find anything of interest, so he crosses the room to the table next to the door marked Private. Lying atop the other reading material sits a small brown book with a peculiar design inscribed in gold leaf upon the cover. Intrigued, he picks up the book but quickly reflexively lets it go when the contact results in a shock of static electricity. The book hits the edge of the table and tumbles to the floor where it lands on its edge, a piece of paper slips out.

  The paper is folded in half. When he picks it up and opens it, discovers a brief message.

  “ Welcome and thank you for coming. Glad you found the book. If you could read the first page and then walk through the door, we can begin the interview. If you brought anything with you, please feel free to bring it along.”

  James picks up the book and looks at it with increased interest. He turns to Dave and shows him the book and letter. “Look at this.” When Dave joins him, he hands him the letter. While Dave reads, James says, “That’s a dumb way to start an interview. What if I had never found the piece of paper? I could’ve been sitting out here for a long time!”

  Dave looks up from the letter and shrugs. “You’re right. This guy must be some kind of an eccentric or something. In the ad, he mentioned role playing games. Maybe in his mind this is some kind of test.”

  Nodding agreement, James sits in one of the chairs and opens the book to the first page.

  Underlying Principles of Magic

  The practice of magic is quite simple and basic. Magic is the process by which an individual taps into the reservoir of strength, or power within himself, and manifests it into changes of the world around him. Each individual contains the ability to manipulate this power. Some have the ability to do very little while others can literally bring down mountains.

  Looking up from the book, James turns to his friend. “Unless I am mistaken, this book is going to explain the workings of a magic system. Not Houdini type, but more along the lines of Merlin or Gandalf. It’s talking about using the power within you to manipulate the world around you.”

  “Weird. This guy must be a nut,” Dave jokes.

  “Yeah, but character or not, a job’s a job.” Turning back to the book, James finishes the first page quickly. Closing the book, he climbs to his feet and the vampiric bats return in full measure. H
e glances to the door marked Private and almost fails to go through with this as he’s never been one to initiate contact with anybody. Sighing, he turns to his friend. “Wish me luck.”

  “Luck!” replies Dave, giving his friend an encouraging thumb’s up.

  Slinging his backpack over his shoulder he gathers his courage, tucks the book under his arm and heads for the door. Pausing momentarily, he takes a few deep, soothing breaths to calm his nerves, then opens the door and steps through.

  The crunch of dried leaves beneath his foot, coupled with the scene before him brings him to a stunned, and sudden stop.

  A meadow nestled within a forest of trees stretches out before him. Birdsong fills the air and the wafting of a gentle breeze only adds to the impossible scene. Off to his right warbles a babbling brook that cuts its way through the heart of this pastoral scene.

  He remains rooted in dumbfounded shock as his brain tries to make sense of what he’s seeing. Turning around to ask Dave if he’s hallucinating or what, he receives another shock upon discovering that instead of the doorway he had just passed through, a stand of trees rise majestically to the sky not ten feet away.

  Did I just cross over into the Twilight Zone?

  Unable to believe what his own eyes are telling him, he rubs them and then looks around the clearing again as he works to make sense of it. Trees swaying in the gentle breeze; birds soaring against the backdrop of blue sky above; and the soft trickling melody of the stream as it makes its way across the meadow to disappear within the trees on the far side give this place a surreal feel.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye draws his attention to the far side of the stream near a fallen log at the edge of the forest. What he sees nearly convinces him that he’s lost his mind. For sitting atop the log is a strange little creature; about four and a half feet in height with skin a dark-greenish color. Wearing a blue vest and a crazy felt hat, it looks out of place in such a surreal scene as this. Intelligence peers out from behind eyes of yellow and they’re looking right at James.

  I’m having a hallucination. This can’t be real!

  Unsure what to do, he walks through the grass of the meadow toward the creature. He pauses at the stream in wary apprehension when he sees the creature hop off the log and get to its feet. When no hostile action is forthcoming, he leaps across the water and walks the few remaining feet until he’s standing before the creature. Staring into those yellow eyes nearly unnerves James completely. Somehow, he summons the courage to say, “Hello.”

  To his utter astonishment the creature replies with a coherent “Hello.”

  James’ eyes widen in surprise. “You can talk?”

  Putting hands on hips, the creature’s expression transforms into one that could only be considered sour. “Of course I can talk. Any intelligent creature can talk. But not many have anything worthwhile to say.”

  Before James can get out his next question, the creature says, “ Where am I? Was that to be your next question? You’re not where you started out, boy. My master has set me here to get you started and that is all I intend to do. I am not here to hold your hand or wet-nurse you, do you understand?” The creature gives him an intent look as it waits for a response.

  Nodding his head, James gives a weak, “I think so.”

  “Good. Now listen up and listen well, for I am here to tell you some things and I will only tell you once.”

  “First of all, magic works here. Read the book you have in your hand. It will help you get a handle on it. Your survival may well depend on it. Scratch that. Your survival will depend on it.”

  “Secondly, you can’t go home, at least not right now. Don’t try. We won’t stop you, but take it on faith that the way is simply not open to you.”

  “Lastly, get your sorry butt to the village of Trendle.”

  With that, the creature leaps backward into the air, and with a faint popping noise, disappears.

  James ol’ boy, he thinks to himself. You’re screwed!

  Chapter Two

  His mind whirls in an attempt to come to grips with the enormity of the situation. There has to be a rational explanation! The forest surrounding the meadow appears like any forest that might exist back on Earth; pine trees, birds singing in the distance, insects buzzing here and there; normality. Nothing strange, except for the little detail that there is no way he could have arrived at such a place by stepping through a door. This was something straight out of one of his books.

  The ad said “traveling”. Well, I have traveled. The ad also said that being well read in fantasy novels and experience with role playing games would be a bonus. Thinking of the little creature he had just encountered, James can see the logic in that as well. Such a background might enable a person to more willingly accept these odd occurrences. Provided of course, that all this is real.

  Okay, let’s take this one step at a time. What actually happened to you? You were on the 23 ^ rd floor of an office building, stepped through a door and then you find yourself in the middle of this meadow talking with an odd looking little creature. Have you lost your mind?

  After taking a quick mental check, he decides insanity is not the culprit. But could an insane person tell? No odd thoughts or urges run through his mind. No hallucinations, unless this meadow and that creature could be considered as such.

  Reaching down, he runs his fingers across the grass. Feels normal. He again takes in his surroundings. Everything looks and feels quite real. So, if this is real, then what happened? A breeze ruffles his hair which only adds to the sense that all this is real. Closing his eyes he takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, then slowly exhales. Opening them again, he finds the meadow unchanged. He didn’t really expect that to change things, but it’s what everyone does who gets into these sorts of situations.

  I’m not in the Twilight Zone. I don’t see Rod Sterling over to the side talking to the viewers. At this point, he would hardly be surprised if he did. Then if this place is not a hallucination, it has to be real!

  Holding up the book acquired in the waiting room, he takes a much more interested look at it than he did before. An odd design is embossed on the cover, and the book holds not very many pages. Think, James, think! Let’s for the moment consider the possibility that all this is in fact real. What now? You were brought here for some reason; that goes without saying. Why else would that little creature have been “set” here to deliver the message? Could this be for your benefit? Probably not; it never is. James reflects on various books read over the last several years. Some dealt with this sort of thing and if memory serves, the main character rarely has a fun time of it.

  For the sake of argument, let’s suppose this is in fact, a true guidebook on magic. And let’s further suppose that since I was brought here and told to bring it with me, then it stands to reason that I should be able to gain some benefit by the information contained within. Why else would they have bothered? And who exactly are “they?” Realizing some questions are going to have to wait, he opens the book and rereads the first couple paragraphs. Two sentences grab his attention:

  Rhyme and meter are the most effective forms of spell construction.

  Maintain a visualization of the effect you wish to produce.

  Sounds easy enough. What the heck, let’s give it a try. Best to keep it simple. He spies a small stick lying on the ground. Concentrating, he creates a visualization of the stick rising off the ground. Now for the words…

  Little stick that I have found,

  Float three feet off the ground.

  Mimicking the action of a dozen different wizards from literature and film, he raises his hand toward the stick and speaks the incantation. With the utterance of the first word, an odd sensation grows deep within his body. Sort of like water rising behind a dam. The growing pressure is not an entirely unpleasant feeling. The utterance of each word causes the pressure to build. As soon as the last word is spoken, the dam breaks and the power surges forth. He can almost see the magic flow
ing from him to the stick, though it’s probably just his imagination.

  The stick slowly rises from the ground. It reaches nearly a foot in the air before he becomes so excited at the effect he has wrought that his concentration breaks and the stick falls back to the ground with a clatter.

  I DID IT!!!! James ol’ boy, you are one amazing wizard! Cavorting around with jubilation, he races over and examines the stick which just a moment before had been floating in the air. He hesitantly reaches out and touches it. Seeming normal, he picks it up and examines the wood more closely but doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Feeling a little cocky, he formulates another set of words, visualizes the effect he desires, then tosses the stick into the air yelling,

  Stick who once on the ground did lie,

  Stay your course there in the sky!

  His verse wouldn’t win any poetry contests; but then, at the moment he’s more into functionality than artistry. This time he is determined to maintain the visualization. With the utterance of the last word, the power once again surges forth. The stick’s flight through the air comes to a sudden halt six feet above the ground. As it floats motionless in the air, James controls his excitement so as to maintain the visualization and not disrupt the spell.

  He comes to the stick and grins while walking around where it hovers in mid-air. Moving his hand over and under the stick, such as what a magician might do to prove to his audience the absence of supporting wires, he encounters nothing. He then reaches out and places his index finger upon its wooden surface. The stick moves the barest of a fraction, but otherwise maintains its position. Placing his hand under the stick, he ceases concentrating upon his desire for the stick to remain motionless in the air and it drops into his hand.

  “Yes!”

  Quite pleased, he smiles at his success. I could get to like this. Then sadness comes over him when he thinks of how his grandparents are going to feel when he doesn’t come home. I may never make it home. Oh my God! What about Dave? He saw me go through the door. How will he take it? I guess the best he can, that’s all any of us can do.