Tendrils of cool misted shadow moved over my arms and down my hands, twisting around my fingers. I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to hold their magic in place, concentrating enough to get them to envelop my bare skin.
“Focus, Wren.” Bergen said, standing at my back.
“I’m… trying…” I forced out, as my concentration faltered and the bands of shadow thinned.
I gritted my teeth and pushed harder at the ancient magic I held. The shadows responded eagerly. Too eagerly, in fact, and before I could pull back on my efforts, the shadows fully consumed me in a burst of magic. I let out a gasp before hearing a shout from Bergen.
“I’m alright.” Bergen said, as I turned to face him.
The staff he held protected him in a shield of air that kept back the magic that emanated from my misstep. The raw white crystal on its top glowed faintly and dimmed back into nothing as Bergen corrected his stance and stood straight again.
“I’m sorry.” I said, in a whispered panic.
I stared at the ground, looking at the familiar stone floors and dimly lit space of the basement we trained my shadow magic abilities in. It was a forgotten space under the library, old boxes of damaged books, and different furniture that no longer had use were stored along the walls. A threadbare rug sat in the middle of the floor where I was.
My attention was drawn back up when the door creaked as it opened.
“Aye, is everything alright in here?” Viggo asked in his all too familiar lilt, concern showed in his eye.
I pulled my auburn braid over my shoulder and picked at the ends to hide my embarrassment.
“We are fine. Wren pushed a little too hard in that attempt.” Bergen tugged at his long silver-gray beard, deep lines were etched into his face as he smiled at me, “It’s a balance, this sort of ancient magic can fully consume you, and if you can’t control it, you might not be able to break its power from showing at times where it’ll bring you more harm than good.”
Viggo nodded and looked back at me. He pressed his lips into a thin smile of support. His strawberry blond beard was full and manicured well. I don’t think I’d ever seen it looking out of place. A scar on his left eye from a battle long ago left it closed. He was a fierce warrior, fighter, and head of our Sentinels, but he was also my father.
“I’m alright, Dad. Give me another few attempts. I’ll finish up work here at the library and see you tonight.” I said, trying to shake out the residual feelings of unease.
“Try to put as much effort into your combat training as that shadow magic next time we spar, alright?” Viggo teased.
“I haven’t trained with you in months, if at all this year.” I scoffed.
“Aye, happens when you get your tail beat by the best.”
I rolled my eyes, but felt the heat in my cheeks cool at his jokes. My shadow magic always freaked him out a little. It was once feared and hunted down, being seen as something that would bring doom to the one they worshiped. The majority of those views now remained within the Red Kingdom to the north, but I could see the fear in him at times when he watched my training sessions with Bergen.
I sighed as Viggo shut the door behind him, heading back to his duties within Gaelfall. The Sentinels protected our town from threats of monsters, criminals and anything that would want to breach the walls on its outskirts. While that wasn’t common, most often they kept peace within the hustle and bustle.
At the center of Gaelfall, and with most towns to the south of the Red Kingdom, was the library. Ours was stunning. White quartz walls stretched to the sky with two tall towers on either side. The roof was crafted of slate that had a deep blue hue to it. Silver trimmed edging adorned the windows and rooftops.
Bergen cleared his throat, “Let’s try this one more time, I want you to focus not necessarily on what you want your shadows to do, but feel the power as it moves within you. Feel how it responds to the Aura. Become familiar with that before we work on cloaking or shielding.”
I nodded and got to work.
The cathedral arched ceilings with skylights allowed for natural light to illuminate the white quartz interior of the library. Rows of ebony wood bookcases lined either side of the great room, giving a stark contrast to the light, which made the books on display seem to jump out at you. Each town had its own library, and each one was uniquely beautiful. The library acted as a place for education, but also for our history and record keeping. Nearly every library in Caldumn had a Wizard assigned to it, and I worked closely with ours.
My shoes made a light tap against the checkered floor of gray-blue and white marble. The smell of wood, old books, and a hint of vanilla lingered in the air permanently. Near the end of the rows of bookcases sat a large wrap-around white quartz desk with Oona perched in the center. She looked tiny compared to the tall counter height desk.
“Compliments of your second home,” I said in a posh tone to Oona as she looked up above her glasses. I pulled a linen wrapped loaf of sourdough bread from my satchel that still smelled divine and handed it to her.
“Ooo! I love Endora so much!” She squealed as she took the bread, and set it to the side of the wide desktop. Her dark, almond eyes were shining as she tucked her chin length, jet-black hair behind her ears. Oona was our night watch and Wizard in training.
“What are you studying?” I asked as she moved her hand across the open book, finding her place once again.
“I’m trying to expand my shielding,” she sighed, “but it’s proving to be… difficult.”
I clicked my tongue in response. “Wish I could help, friend, but I’m afraid you’re a bit farther along with that than I am.”
She gave me a smile and looked back towards her reading before replying, “Tell Endora thanks again for the bread. It will be some excellent fuel to get me through this exercise today.”
I gave a gentle squeeze of her hand and walked to the back of the room. I never thought about focusing on my magic after I discovered I could use it. Not like how Oona seemed to delve into trying to understand it. Bergen has worked with me on controlling it in line with my emotional outbursts so I would avoid burning down the house or injuring someone.
While my Mage abilities are prominent, we discovered I have a deeper magic within me. Shadows had slipped around me as I slept one night at the orphanage, and Endora wasn’t sure what to make of it, asking for help from Bergen. Since that event, I had been on his list of being particularly noteworthy.
I was three when Endora found me hiding in the alleyway that my parents tucked me in while running away. When she brought me back to the orphanage, there was an initial attempt to find my parents. We learned they had been killed that night. The magic my father held had been of the hunted kind .
Endora was from Briaroak Village, the town of Witches, located to the north of our town. She came to work here in Gaelfall long ago, when a need for an orphanage matron came up. Her ability to use potions and elixirs to aid in healing or sickness was welcomed. The Witch's magic, focusing on nature and life, made her a herbalist and a healer.
I lived with her at the orphanage until I was nine, and a particular event that set things into motion as to how I was adopted.
I remember the first time feeling the conjured fireball as it flew from my hand. My emotions burst through me in wild, unrestrained anger. The fire shot through the room, barely missing the children who had been relentless in their taunting and bullying.
“Sweet child, what were you thinking?” Endora chided gently.
I looked at the scene before us after the fire was quickly put out by Endora. Charred walls framed a hole the size of a kickball that let in the light from outside. How embarrassing.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, tugging at the loose strands of my hair, trying to mask my emotions once again.
Endora looked at the children who stayed huddled together at my outburst. She gave them a stern look while placing her hands on her hips.
“Well, I don’t suppose we’re going to get an explanation? Who did what to Wren this time?”
The biggest of their group spoke, feigning innocence. “We were just playing. Wren always takes things so literally.”
I looked down, not wanting to show the tears welling in my eyes. They were always awful. I endured the hitting and kicking, name calling and hair pulling, but they destroyed the only things I had considered my own. I looked over at the tattered pieces of my stuffed rabbit and the pillow I had since being here.
Endora followed my gaze and pressed her lips together tightly.
“Come child, gather your things and we’ll try to fix them.”
She gave another silent stare to the children as they hung their heads in a sorrow that was only in the moment. I knew it would never be genuine.
Viggo appeared not long after inquiring about the commotion, taking notice of me after hearing the story. It was directly after that incident that Viggo decided it would be better to have me come home with him. To adopt me and give me a chance at a better life. Endora became a caretaker for both Viggo and me, beyond her matron duties at the orphanage, making meals and taking care of our small cottage during the times Viggo was with the Sentinels. I finally felt like I had a home and a family in Viggo and Endora.
Beyond that showing of magic, I hadn’t tried to use it more until I made my way to the library one day to inquire about working there. The thought of an endless supply of books to read outweighed the need for a weekly salary greatly. My job at the library was to be Bergen’s assistant and library keeper, but mostly it turned into a way to work on my magic, honing my skills and helping me understand my Mage abilities as well as the shadow magic I held.
On either side of the great hall, there were additional hallways. The hall to the right had rooms for quiet studying as well as places to hold meetings and public hearings when needed. The hallway to the left was off-limits to the public. It was where the more important books, manuscripts, and ancient texts were kept, along with private offices. I made a left and walked a few doors down until I came to Bergen’s office.
A messenger cat was making its way out as I approached. The slender white calico looked up at me with glowing green eyes as it slinked through the opening. Seeing that its harness was empty told me that a message had been delivered. It wasn’t uncommon to get messages this way. Many messenger cats in town were large and well-fed, receiving treats as payment for delivery. It made it easy to tell apart the ones that came from neighboring towns, as they were thinner with longer distances to travel.
Bergen was bent over an old tome on his desk, pulling at his beard as he read. I wondered if he realized how often he did that when he was deep in thought or processing information. His blue eyes looked up at me briefly, nearly hidden by his bushy brows, before looking back down to finish the last bit of text.
“Hello again, Wren,” he said.
“Hello again, Bergen.” I copied him as I set my satchel down on the small mahogany secretary's desk that was tucked into the corner.
“I’ve got a couple things to go over with you today. Give me one moment, and we’ll begin.”
I nodded and set the book I borrowed in a box of tomes to shelve later today, and looked through some of the work that had made its way to my desk. The number of old books piled up told me the choice of the white tunic and tan leggings I wore was a poor decision. I’d be scrubbing the dust marks out of them this evening.
Bergen’s office was a mess. He called it ‘chaotic organization’, but it really was simply messy. I looked over to what lay on his desk and decided on yet another attempt at helping him straighten things.
“Let me organize these stacks of papers for you,” I offered, grabbing at one of the many piles on his desk.
Bergen hurried toward them, laying his hand on top of the pile to keep it from leaving the desk. “Thank you for the offer, but I know where everything is that I need in there.”
“Are you sure? It could be quicker if things were organized for you into genre? Alphabetical? Anything?” I tried appealing.
His bushy brows furrowed to a pained expression as he shook his head.
“It’s an organization of mine that allows me to find what I need. It’s kind of you, but I know where things are as it is.”
I knew my attempt to re-shelve the piled books or, at the very least, offering to stack them neater would be met with another polite decline.
Beyond the mess, Bergen’s office was different from the stark white and ebony of the great room. Rich mahogany wood panels decorated the walls. Ornate wood carvings of ivy and other flora crept through the crown molding along the ceiling. Intricate rugs were layered on the floor in varied colors of reds, greens, and purple to give some warmth and sound dampening to the space. Built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with even more books and scrolls of every kind sat against the wall. The age of the texts varied from recent to ancient.
Bergen closed the large green leather-bound book. A puff of dust came from the pages, and he waved his hand to clear the air as his dusky blue robes with white trim swished. In the low light, I caught a glint of the robe’s silver embroidery forming small woodland creatures around the edges in an active game of fox and rabbit. He pulled his eyeglasses from the oversized cuff of his sleeve and looked at me, “We’ve got a problem.”
