Fan Fiction ❯ The Wizard of Blooden ❯ One-Shot

The Wizard of Blooden

By Darryl Phillips

There were precious few towns in human history so aptly named as Blooden. Every opponent that had ever entered its gates died horribly and painfully, usually within seconds of the intrusion. Such a successful defense was attributed to the wise yet wicked wizards of Blooden, who specialized in curses, hexes, and any sort of magic fit for causing pain.

As you might have already guessed, the sole mind behind this brutal but effective system was very much appreciated (and, at the same time, feared) by the people of Blooden. But then, this mind belonged to the ruthless Lord Wraith, sworn protector of the town and established war-man (for soldier seemed too simple a term to describe his insatiable bloodlust). Wraith was a tall, thin man, with deathly pale skin and empty eyes made for staring endlessly. At first glance, he certainly didn't appear to be any sort of formidable fighter. But those who had seen him in battle swore that he became nothing short of demon-possessed on the battlefield.

But this story is not about Wraith. At least, not yet.

* * * * *

Every man, woman, ghost, and beast in Blooden was trained, in one way or another, for war. This was in case their first line of defense ever ceased to work instantly, and because Wraith thought it better to ride out and crush the enemy in their own camp, rather than slip poison in their drinks at the supper table. Certainly, the townspeople all had their own daily tasks, but these were carried out with the understanding that anyone could be called upon to fight at any given moment. In short, every sentient being in Blooden was potentially a killer.

With the men, it was fairly easy. They either became fighters or wizards, depending on where their skill lay.

Women were a bit more difficult. Very rarely were any of them suited to become a witch, and even less were fit to become fighters. Those that showed any prowess in battle generally became bowmen (rather, bow-women) and were placed in the rear lines, where they were less likely to risk serious injury or death. Those that showed any magical capacity were taught to create poisons and potions, with the excrement of certain large animals as the chief ingredient.

Ghosts were the easiest. They were all former fighters, and were (or had been) male. Apparently, they were so dedicated to defending the town, that they needed little or no prompting to put a good fright into the enemy. This worked out nicely, as they didn't have functioning brains anymore, and didn't deplete resources at all, even if they were destroyed.

Beasts were surprisingly difficult. No army had very many, and Blooden was no exception. They were easy enough to find, of course, with all the griffins, dragons, giants, and beast-men roaming around. They were much harder to bring under control, though. Most of creatures had to be hexed thoroughly before they could be depended upon in a fight.

Children were another matter entirely. Gender, of course, determined where a child was sent to learn. Boys were primarily trained by the knights, and any of them that didn't show progress was either assumed to be a wizard or all but useless. Wizards, as a rule, weren't physically strong, so it was the smallest, skinniest, weakest boys that were trained in the dark arts. Girls were destined to either become doll makers, clerics, or witches. Oddly enough, all these had a strong basis in magic. Doll maker was merely a cover for enchantress, as the dolls themselves (and many other inanimate objects) had a habit of coming to life when danger was near. Clerics, or healers, were called so not because of ties to the church, but to white magic, which was perceived as holy (and quite useful for eliminating ghosts). Those that excelled in black magic became witches, though again, this was very rare.

Occasionally there was an awkward boy (or girl) that didn't fit into the expected categories. These children were trained for less important tasks, such as fisherman, tailor, blacksmith, beast master, or errand runner.

But even those secondary jobs did not help one boy.

* * * * *

Junai could not be blamed for his being awkward.

His great-grandfather had been lord of Blooden for a time. His grandfather had been a famous knight. His father had been a soldier of equal fame, but for a far different reason. Junai's father had made the mistake of accidentally trampling a water nymph to death during the Third Water War. Granted, he hadn't had time to look down for nymphs in the midst of all the action, but the nymph (rather, her vengeful sister) hadn't seen it that way. So Junai's father was cursed to forever have awful luck for all his days.

The curse took effect right away, and Junai's father promptly twisted his ankle, fell and broke his neck, then nearly drowned in a rather large mud puddle. Miraculously, he survived the war without any other injuries, but lost hearing in his right ear the instant he returned home to his faithful wife, Simone. She spent the latter part of her husband's life shouting into the other ear, as that one began to lose its function as well. Junai's father died only moments before his son entered the world. It was not obvious then, but the son had inherited many things from his father, including the curse.

Junai was a plain-looking boy, with dull blond hair, pasty skin, and sky blue eyes that became sea blue when he was upset. He was of average height, had no birthmarks to speak of, nor any noticeable skills that would be of any use. Consequently, after his dismal performance under the knights, not even the local wizards wanted anything to do with him.

Junai realized that he'd have to do something, and had his heart set on becoming a beast master. His fondest desire was to climb on a dragon's back and soar up into the clouds until he was short of breath. He liked animals, and set out to learn all he could about them. Junai's mistake (perhaps because of the curse) was that he learned about the wrong kind of animals: he studied those no bigger than he was, while all of Blooden's beasts were larger, meaner, and stronger than any full-grown man. Naturally, when he tried to cuddle the bigger animals, they protested quite strongly. Needless to say, that job didn't go well.

Junai did his best at the other minor jobs, too, but none of those seemed to suit him (rather, he didn't suit them). Each night he came home more and more discouraged, wondering if he'd ever find his place in Blooden.

* * * * *

Simone was, above all, a patient woman. She had waited while her husband went away to war. She had waited (on him) when he was confined to bed during the last years of his life. She had even waited five hours longer than was usual for little Junai to emerge from her womb, and it only made her treasure him all the more (she'd assumed, somewhat inaccurately, that he'd refused to leave the warmth & safety).

So when Junai simply couldn't find his place in the society of Blooden, she did her best to dust him off, kiss away his disappointment, and send him back out the next day, in hopes that his luck (or perhaps his father's) would change.

Simone had once been told that her name meant "moonchild," and whether it was true or not, she was always more active when the moon was out. She firmly believed that her son (she was almost certain his name meant "son of the moon") would benefit from the moon as well, and encouraged him to find a job that would expose him to it on a regular basis. Of course, asking for a job where you could see the moon was like asking a fish to swim on dry land: it just didn't work that way.

Simone's greatest regret was that she couldn't understand Junai's plight. It had certainly taken her a while to find her place, but eventually, she'd become a fairly talented dollmaker/enchantress. Granted, the only thing she ever bothered to enchant were dolls and objects around the house to make the cooking and cleaning easier. She also had a rather odd ability to make poison gas seep out of the earth. There was not too much use for this, but it had saved her son from a wild boar years ago. She'd tried to get him to follow in her footsteps and try wizardry, but people in Blooden had very good memories, the wizards especially, and they sent him away before he could even get one foot in their tents.

Simone's worst fear was that one day Lord Wraith would seek Junai out and exile him from Blooden. Wraith alone was scary enough, and the thought of him being angry was too horrible to imagine. So despite how discouraged her son was, she never allowed him to give up trying to find his place, for he was motivated by a mother's love and a fear of the ferocious lord.

* * * * *

Junai's life changed forever one night on the way home. Desperate for work, he'd tried his hand at becoming a fisherman for the third time, only to find that the very sight of fish now made him horribly ill. They sent him away after he cleaned himself up, and with the promise that he'd never come near the fish again. Junai left, greatly dispirited, with his head bowed, and so he didn't realize he'd accidentally walked into a tent until something growled ominously in his ear.

Despite his love of animals, Junai had learned to fear hellhounds. They were always fierce, generally cranky, and could only be tamed by the most powerful wizards, or mages. Currently, there were only two in Blooden: Lei & Rai, the guards of the High Mage, Wolfwalker (not that he needed them, but as he was directly beneath Wraith, the effect was required).

Instead of running, Junai froze completely. No one had ever outrun a hellhound, and no one that ran from a hellhound had ever lived very long afterwards.

The hound nearest to him bared its razor-sharp, bloodstained teeth, the growl gradually growing louder in its throat. The solid muscles of its hind legs quivered slightly as the fearsome animal prepared to leap.

"That will be enough," said a strong, calm voice.

The hound quieted at once and joined its brother at their master's seat.

Junai's face regained what little color it normally possessed, and he took several deep breaths, afraid he might still collapse from the shock.

"It is not a wise thing to enter a mage's tent without an excellent reason, boy," the old man in the dark brown cloak added, leaning forward. "Only such a reason would be worth having yourself torn to bits by my friends here."

"P-Please forgive me, s-sir," Junai stammered. "I d-didn't m-mean to…"

"And yet, you have," the man noted. "So come, sit, and drink with me. Your heart could still seize up from the mere sight of my hounds. Better to have some mead in you before that happens."

Junai hesitated, and with good reason. His mother had forbidden him any man's drink, saying it'd be hard enough to land a job without stumbling around and shouting nonsense like a drunkard.

"Your mother has never encountered a hellhound," the old man said sharply, "and certainly not mine. I daresay she will forgive you this wrong, especially when you may have a taskmaster before this night is done."

Junai's face lit up like a pale candle. "Do…you really mean that, sir?"

"We shall see," the old man replied. "Now, sit and drink." With a wave of his hand, a small table with a jug on it appeared, followed by a sturdy chair. "Down it quickly, and down it will stay," he advised, his eyes twinkling with mirth as Junai sat before him.

Junai did as he was told, and almost instantly regretted it. The mead was sweet going down, but left a strong, burning aftertaste in his throat that would remain there for several hours.

"If it's a task you need, we'd best discover where you belong, boy." The old man placed his hand flat on the table, then lifted it up, revealing a deck of violet cards with gold edges.

"They say I'll never be a knight," Junai said, before realizing his error and slapping a hand over his mouth.

The old man smiled kindly. "There is nothing you can hide from me Junai, son of Knobbins and treasure of Simone. Now, let us decide your fate." He placed his hand on the deck. "What do you know of your father?"

Junai related everything his mother had told him of his late father, and what he'd learned from past encounters with the ghost. From these meetings, he'd concluded, somewhat inaccurately, that his father was a fool. Yet, one could hardly expect wit from a creature without a brain.

The old man drew two cards and placed them to the left of the deck. "When did you first realize that your mother cared for you?"

Junai thought for a long moment, and told him of the wild boar incident.

The old man drew two more cards and placed them on the right. "Finally, tell me your greatest desire."

If he'd been asked that just weeks before, Junai would've recalled his dream of flying on a dragon. But now he knew, deep in his heart, there was only one thing he truly wanted. "To belong," Junai replied. "To find my place…if there is one for me."

The old man nodded and smiled mysteriously. "I believe there is, lad." He drew two more cards and handed them to Junai. "The first is your symbol, and the next shall be your taskmaster."

Junai turned over the cards. The first was labeled Moon in bold letters, and there was a woman cloaked in partial shadow, with the new moon rising behind her. The next was called Judgment, and there was a woman with green hair, wearing a dress of purest white. "But I don't understand, sir. What is my task?"

"Come," said the High Mage, shuffling to his feet. "I will show you your taskmistress."

That made Junai pause. If his guess was right, the woman in white was a cleric, and all clerics were women. There had certainly never been any male clerics. He began to wonder if perhaps the High Mage had drawn the wrong cards. The thought instantly left his mind, however, when Lei growled at him, as if hearing his thoughts.

* * * * *

Danube was not a typical witch in any sense of the word. If compared to others of her line of work, she would've proven to be more powerful, much more attractive, and far more advanced in the use of her powers. Of course, she'd had many chances to practice, having been a feared enemy of Blooden for nearly a decade.

Naturally, the day Wraith returned from his campaign in the Pogane Forest, everyone was shocked to see Danube following at his heels like a lovesick puppy. The nature of their true relationship (if there even was one) was unknown, and Danube had revealed nothing, save for the fact that she was now, apparently, a witch of Blooden in good standing, which Wraith immediately made known to avoid a massacre (it would've been a shame to lose such a promising town). While the people had eventually accepted Danube, all were immensely relieved when she chose to live in a cave on the outskirts of town. Only Wraith and Wolfwalker ever bothered to visit, and Danube was glad to have them, as she never passed up a chance to enchant a being of the opposite gender. Not that it did any good, for Wolfwalker was far too old to have an interest in anything but governing the town, and Wraith didn't involve himself in anything that didn't at least deal indirectly with war.

Danube did, however, have a great interest in the next generation of witches. Unfortunately, not many girls showed promise or even much interest in the trade anymore, and it was likely that Danube would be the last witch of quality that Blooden had for a long time. Even the ranks of wizards were beginning to thin out, as old age finally caught up to the gray-bearded men. Danube had at least another four hundred years before she started to show signs of age, thanks to a very precise potion she'd created in her youth. Of course, when she did begin to age, she'd barely last a day, but she preferred to live beautiful for centuries and die horrid in a matter of seconds.

* * * * *

The full moon had risen by the time Wolfwalker and Junai reached the cave. Much to Junai's surprise, the cave was a lot tidier than he'd expected. There was even a little red door that the High Mage had to stoop to pass through.

The inside of the cave wasn't really cave-like at all. The gray rocks gave way to glossy black substance that might've been solidified lava. Junai touched it carefully, and found it was cool and smooth. The black hallway led into a larger chamber, but a large, black dragon blocked the entrance. Although it was indeed a fearsome beast to behold, the effect was lessened a bit by the fact that it was snoring heavily.

Recalling his encounter with the hellhounds, Junai was terrified.

But Wolfwalker marched up to the dragon and shouted, "Danube! I would speak with you!"

"Snuffles!" a female voice called from the chamber. "Up, Snuffles, up!"

The dragon lazily opened one great, yellow eye, yawned loudly, and shuffled to the left, so that there was just enough room for Wolfwalker and Junai to squeeze by. The instant they had passed, the dragon returned to his spot, yawned, and began to snore again.

Now that he had passed the dragon, Junai was less afraid, but at the same time, he was awfully disappointed that it hadn't at least breathed smoke or snapped at him. He turned away from the dragon, only to find that the High Mage had gone ahead. By the time Junai caught up, Wolfwalker was already seated at a low table. Across from the old mage, dressed in robes of violet, was the single most beautiful woman Junai had ever seen (a title he'd thought would always belong to his mother).

"This is Danube," Wolfwalker said to Junai. "She is a reformed witch, and will be your taskmistress until further notice. You will report to her every night that the moon rises."

Junai's eyes widened in fear. "You're Danube the Dreadful?" he squeaked.

"Heard of me, have you?" she asked, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't be shy. Tell me what you know."

"They say you used to roam the forest with horrible pumpkin men," Junai said. He was having a hard time believing it of someone so lovely, though.

"That's just not true!" Danube cried at once. "I never roamed the forest with horrible pumpkin men! We had a castle, and anyway, they were quite charming."

Junai didn't know that to make of that, and fortunately, Wolfwalker saved him from wherever the conversation had been headed.

"You wanted to find your place, boy. I believe you have now." With that, Wolfwalker stood up and left the room, his staff tapping the ground as he went.

"How will he get past the dragon?" Junai wondered aloud.

"He's a mage; he'll find a way," Danube replied. "Well, now, let's have a look at you."

Junai didn't consider himself all that important, and focused more on Danube's looks than trying to appear impressive. His eyes were drawn to her long tresses, which looked more like silky, shiny waterfalls of gold than actual hair. Her lips were small, pink, and extremely hard for Junai to ignore. Her eyes gleamed like twin emeralds in the dim cave, and her skin was flawless.

"Not bad," Danube murmured after a few seconds of gazing at her new pupil. "Not as experienced as I'm used to, but we can work around that."

"Excuse me, but…what exactly am I supposed to be?" Junai asked.

"Didn't you know, dear boy? You're going to be Blooden's next wizard. Let's get started!"

* * * * *

Simone was not surprised when her son came home excited and sweaty the next morning. Apparently, he'd run all the way from Danube's cave; he couldn't wait to tell her that he was learning to be a wizard. However, he didn't tell her, mainly because the running had exhausted him, and he was far too hungry to do anything but eat breakfast and fall asleep at the table. With a proud smile, Simone put him to bed and kissed him goodnight, thankful that he'd finally found his place. She knew perfectly well what the cards in his pocket meant, and made a mental note to thank the High Mage the next time she saw him in town.

Much to Simone's surprise, her son began to change drastically while learning from Danube. It was as if Mother Nature had finally realized she'd been neglecting him, and had come visiting to make up for lost time. Over the next few months, Junai tripled in height, and soon he had to duck whenever he went into someone's home. His hair grew from a short-cropped blonde mess to a mess that reached his shoulders, no matter how much he cut it. He retained his thin, wiry frame, and while they didn't seem all that impressive, his muscles became more defined, even to the point where people wondered if perhaps he would've made a good knight. But Junai never even considered changing professions: he was beginning to show real talent in his current field, and he was quite fond of Danube. Many youth in town found that out the hard way when he happened to overhear them whispering about the "creepy witch in the cave."

For all his improvements, Junai hardly changed his attitude. With Danube's help, he had developed more self-confidence, lost his constant stammering, and, for some reason which Simone couldn't figure out, became even more devoted to his mother. Though his lessons kept him out late every night, he insisted on doing the larger portion of the chores. When she let him, he even cooked, and if she even thought about yawning, he would scoop her up and carry her to bed, saying she needed her rest. Simone had assumed that her son would become more devoted to Danube, not the other way around.

But Danube was a woman herself, and she would be around long after Simone was gone. As far as she was concerned, Junai was required to spend any time outside of lessons with his mother. He could become devoted to his taskmistress after his mother passed. Until then, she was going to make sure that Simone was appreciated in the little time (all normal life spans seemed that way to Danube) she had left.

* * * * *

Junai was amazed at how much he had to learn. For the first few days, Danube rarely even mentioned black magic, which was the whole purpose of him being there. She taught him about the various creatures that roamed the wild, where they lived, and how to deal with them. He especially learned a great deal about dragons, since Danube had her own. However, Snuffles (during the rare times when he was awake, he seemed to have a nasty cold) was not a very active subject, and Danube generally just pointed out his different parts for Junai to identify. She taught him that there were three main types of dragons (green, red, and black), and how to avoid being eaten by each. Snuffles, again, was no real help here, as he only ate whatever got curious and wandered too far into the cave.

After Junai could go into detail about any animal Danube asked of him, they moved on to nature. Danube taught him of the plants that were local to the area, as well as some that he would probably never see in his lifetime. She showed him those that worked best in potions, and those that would cause a man to literally drown in rashes.

Eventually, Danube felt Junai was ready to learn black magic. It was by far the most difficult thing he had ever attempted. If he pronounced even one syllable of an incantation wrong, they generally had a way of backfiring with effects that tended to last a day at least. Simone had to get used to her son coming home with great, green boils the size of small children on his neck. They had even been so unfortunate as to have one pop, and the smell had remained for weeks afterward. Gradually, though, Junai gained more control, and the boils and things much worse became more rare.

On Junai's twentieth birthday, Danube gave him his very own staff to use in more complex spells. It was all but required to become a wizard, and would be very useful in his later years, when it would double as a cane. It was also a sign that Junai was nearing the end of his training.

Danube began to teach him more advanced magic, most of which was dangerous, and in some cases, quite lethal. But she had faith in Junai's abilities, and more importantly, Junai had faith that Danube would teach him all that he needed to know to be a successful wizard. In order to do that, though, Junai would ultimately have to pass the Trial of Magiks. This was so that Lord Wraith would have final say on who became a wizard and who didn't. No one knew what the Trial involved, but many had failed it miserably.

A week before Junai was to enter the Trial, Simone died in her sleep. Strangely, Junai did not weep over the loss. Instead, he took stock of their property, sold everything that was not vital to his survival, and came to live in Danube's cave. Danube had not invited him, and he had not asked, but there was really no need to do either. His focus on his last lessons increased tenfold, and Danube was amazed by how intense and powerful he became when he really put his mind to it. She was, however, worried about his mental state, for the Trial would drain him mentally and physically. If Junai had not resolved his feelings for his mother by then, he would endanger his chances of becoming a wizard.

* * * * *

Junai took a deep breath and entered the tent.

The only person inside was an abnormally thin man seated behind a table. He wore black armor that looked as if it might crush him at any moment, and a flowing, blood-red cape. His face was pale and gaunt, and showed very little sign of being healthy.

"Lord Wraith?" Junai asked cautiously. "Sir?"

The man looked up, slowly, and Junai felt the blood run cold in his veins. Though the rest of him was hardly impressive, the man's eyeballs were entirely black and twice the normal size. He blinked (a chilling sight) and stroked his gray-dusted chin with long, thin fingers. "State your business," he said faintly, looking at a point just beyond Junai's head.

Junai stepped forward, wondering if the old man could see at all. "I've come for the Trial of Magiks, sir. My name is Junai."

Wraith tilted his head slightly. "The Trial is not a simple matter, nor is it to be taken lightly, son. Are you certain you're ready?"

Junai nodded, then quickly added, "Yes, sir." He gripped his staff tightly, half expecting Wraith to suddenly leap over the table and bring a sword down on his head. He already had a good attack spell in mind, if that was the case.

But Wraith merely leaned back in his chair and said, "Impress me."

Junai froze. "What…?"

"You have ten minutes to impress me." Wraith continued to focus on that point behind Junai's head. "Let me know when you're done."

Junai wracked his brain for a hex, or something nasty like that. He was almost certain Wraith was blind now, so he would have to do something that the lord could feel. His thoughts suddenly turned to one particular spell that he'd performed only once, and not without great difficulty.

"It is said that only God can read the hearts of men," Danube had told him that night. "This spell, while not quite that powerful, can at least allow you to view a man's heart. You probably won't understand anything you see, but you'll definitely have a better understanding of the person. However, this spell is exceptionally dangerous, both to the wizard performing it and the person he views. Performing it incorrectly could kill the person instantly, or erase the wizard's mind completely, leaving him an empty shell."

Junai, of course, had had no intention of performing such a spell.

Then Danube had told him that unless he performed it on her, she would not allow him to attempt the Trial of Magiks.

Junai had begged her to change her mind. He was so afraid of hurting or killing her, and though he'd never said it, he truly did consider her to be his second mother.

But Danube wouldn't be moved by his words, and so he had performed the spell. Junai had been certain that he'd nearly killed her, but he'd walked away from the experience with a new admiration for his taskmistress, as well as her confidence in him.

Junai took a deep breath, raised his staff, and performed the spell for the second and final time.

Wraith's body went through a fit of seizures as he rose into the air and floated towards Junai. His face was frozen in an expression of excruciating pain, almost as if he were having a heart attack. Of course, all things considered, he might as well have been.

Junai came closer and held out his hand. Taking another deep breath, he plunged his hand into Wraith's chest, seeking out his heart. When he'd done this with Danube, he'd found her heart instantly. But for some reason, Junai was having great difficulty finding Wraith's. It was certainly not in the usual place, so he moved over to the right side, wondering if the lord was human at all. Sweat began to pour down Junai's face as even that came up fruitless. The spell itself put a huge drain on him, and the longer it took, the more danger he put himself in. He was still determined, though, and began to check the left side again.

This time, Junai's searching fingers closed around a small, lumpy organ. It could only be the remains of the lord's heart. Closing his eyes, Junai focused on the aura originating from the heart. What he saw there changed his life, and, just for a moment, turned him back into that small boy who had lived in fear of Wraith for years.

Wraith's life was little more than a series of bloody, countless battles. The first had occurred in his homeland, when he was barely three months old. His entire family had been slaughtered in front of him, one by one, merely because the invaders wondered what it might do to him. And they found out, but not the way they'd expected.

They left the boy in the woods to die without his mother's milk. Here, there was a blank page (the first of many) in the book of Wraith's life. The next chapter began ten years later, when Wraith, still a boy, had walked into the invaders' camp, stolen one of their swords, and proceeded to kill them all. Junai would not have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

Another blank page followed this scene, and the next chapter revealed Wraith as a young man, fighting in wars only because he'd developed a taste for bloodshed. He did not care who he fought or why, only that they were dead and utterly unidentifiable when he was done with them. Another series of blank pages led up to Wraith truly becoming a man, when he slayed a dragon and saved a budding township from sure destruction. Here, he was befriended by an aging wizard, then known as William, and agreed to act as head of the militia.

More blank pages found Wraith & William defending the town against Rosmat, a demon of enormous power. While William chanted a spell to hold the demon at bay, Wraith struck the deathblow, in more ways than one. Rosmat had been cursed, and knew that he could only be defeated by a man with no soul, something he'd thought was impossible. But long ago (more than likely during one of the blank pages), Wraith had sold his soul to another demon, one that had granted him immortality and superhuman strength, but on the terms that he never harmed a demon. The murder of Rosmat violated the agreement, and as penance, Wraith was cursed to live with Rosmat's spirit in his body. This literally turned him into the walking dead, for no man was meant to house a demon's essence. But for his bravery, the township made him lord over them, and promoted William to High Mage.

After yet another series of blank pages, Wraith's body began to deteriorate from housing Rosmat's spirit. To slow down the process, the High Mage cut the demon's spirit in two, cut the larger piece in two again, and transformed the pieces into a pair of hellhounds. While they agreed to act as guards, their real purpose was to ensure that Wraith continued to house the rest of Rosmat's spirit, and the second he tried to get rid of it, they would tear him to shreds.

Junai's fear of the lord faded as he saw these things, and was replaced by overwhelming compassion. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, waved his staff to end the spell, and stepped back.

Wraith regained control of his body and collapsed, tears of blood falling from his dead eyes. He, too, had watched his life pass by, and could not bear feeling such torment a second time.

"I…I'm done, sir," Junai said quietly, lowering his head.

Wraith slowly looked up, now focusing solely on Junai's face. "Junai, son of Knobbins, you have…impressed me."

"Thank you, sir."

"No, son. Thank you. But it was not your seizing what remains of my long-dead heart that impressed me. It was what I saw in yours that was truly inspiring." He smiled. "Do you have any idea what you are, boy? Any idea at all?"

"A wizard?" Junai asked hopefully.

Wraith chuckled as he rose. "Much more than that, lad. Your father was cursed, as I was, but by a water nymph. But her curse has done you more good than harm. Because of your father, that nymph lost a member of her family. She wanted a member of yours in return, blood for blood. And now she truly has him. The mystical blood of the water nymphs flows in your veins, Junai. That's what makes you so powerful. Fortunately, nymphs and humans are compatible mates, and you now reap the benefits of their coming together."

Junai was speechless. He had never, ever considered such a thing to be possible. But it was. It had to be. Wraith had no reason to lie to him, and he suspected that Wolfwalker and Danube would tell him the same. In fact, he was fairly certain they already knew.

Wraith placed a hand on his shoulder. "I will make you a wizard under one condition, son. Swear to me that you will never use that spell again. With all your skill, you are too valuable to this town to risk losing that way."

Junai nodded. "I swear it, sir."

"Then, for the time being, I proclaim you a wizard of Blooden in fine standing."

"For the time being?" Junai asked.

Wraith smiled. "Our High Mage has been looking for an apprentice to take his place. I think he had you in mind, and even if he didn't, he will when he hears what you've done this day."

Junai was torn. The thought of training under Wolfwalker was a huge honor, one that he couldn't possibly refuse. And yet, he would no longer be Danube's student.

Wraith seemed to sense this. "You will, of course, need tutoring in the history of your nymph blood, and what it will mean for your magiks. I'm certain we can find an experienced witch nearby…"

Junai grinned. "I may have one in mind, sir."

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