Chapter 14 （Elaine）Disappearing Magic
Chapter 14 (Elaine)
Disappearing Magic
I was sitting on a large sack of dry barley. Although there were various seats and sofas in the library, I preferred the feeling of sinking into the barley grains through the sack’s burlap. The other mages always found my habit surprising, but the castle servants were used to it. They would periodically come to collect my bag and replace it with a newer one to prevent the barley from spoiling.
The Shadow Weavers’ meeting was still on my mind. They were using Scorchfire’s heart to absorb draconic magic. They couldn’t be allowed to gain such powerful magic. They were already renowned for being extremely dangerous. This would bring them to a level where they could do whatever they wished and couldn’t be stopped. I needed to prevent this at all costs.
I took a deep breath, the pleasant smell of book pages filling my nose, a smile instinctively forming on my face. I turned one of the pages of the dragon book I was reading. Not much was known about dragons, the creatures being solitary and too dangerous to study in detail. Now that they were extinct, getting information about them was all the more difficult. However, ever since discovering that the birth of the elven race was linked to dragons, I’d read everything there was to know about them.
“These containers are stunning!” said Mitra’s deep voice in awe.
I turned to see the dark elf observing a container of mana. He held the golden chain above his head, the green crystal vial reaching his eye level. Light sparkled through the container. It was held in place with two large pieces of metal in the shape of a dragon’s wings, connected to the chain like a pendant. However, it couldn’t be worn as a necklace, as the container was as big as a mug.
The first elven mage invented these vials many years ago to store magical force. They were a way to store some unused magic essence for later use. Over time, the art of crafting them had been lost, making the few remaining containers all the more precious.
They were a bit archaic, replaced by the incrusted jewelry like the ones I wore. But since not all mages could withstand the jewels, they were still widely used. Mitra had long aimed to unlock the secret of their crafting. It would be convenient for many mages, but I worried about the magic balance if he succeeded and created more. It would allow low-level mages to buy powerful containers. They would have access to a power they couldn’t fully grasp. Not everyone could put great power to good use .
I put down my book and went to my lover’s side. “It’s true.”
The elf withdrew his eyes from the container to look at me. “Not as much as you, though.”
I blushed at his words. He’d shown so much tenderness, and I appreciated those sweet moments when we were alone. I leaned toward him, yearning to kiss him once more, my heart beating fast at the closeness of his body.
Mitra closed the gap, his fingers pressing into my hips as he pulled me closer. I moaned as his lips devoured mine in a spark of passion. The world ceased to exist; the only thing remaining was the man holding me. He kept his forehead against mine after the kiss, whispering, “You’re the most precious treasure in my life.” And in that moment, I believed it.
As if on cue, the library door opened, and Mitra let go of the embrace. Oswald and the other mages entered the room, chatting happily amongst themselves. It was time for the daily meeting to brief on the situation. I shook my head, a wistful smile on my lips.
They all stood before me, and Mitra joined them, putting away his mana container.
“As you know, Oswald, Mitra, and I went to the Shadow Weavers’ lair last night,” I began.
Everyone looked at me with interest. “They’re using Schorchfire’s heart to absorb draconic magic.”
Their faces showed astonishment. I continued, “This proves they’re even more dangerous than we thought—”
The door swung open, interrupting our meeting. Mathias entered, his usually composed face full of worry. “Grand Wizard, some citizens request an audience.”
“This is not the time,” I retorted firmly. “We’re in a meeting.”
The chancellor replied apologetically, “I know that, but they’re threatening to force entry if we don’t grant them an audience.”
Force their way in? Was it because they knew the king had gone to war? It hadn’t even been a day since Erendriel had left. He had made a public announcement before leaving, and the population generally supported the war. Many people still blamed the dwarves for the loss of the Doronien tree, an ancient elven tree. Magic was said to flow in its sap. The dwarves destroyed them all with their war machines centuries ago.
I was curious to discover what could be so severe as to drive a citizen to such threats.
“All right, I’m coming,” I replied. It was safer to see what they wanted immediately.
“Are you . . . Are you going to see them in the throne room?” Mathias asked, uncertain.
The question was legitimate. The throne room was reserved for royalty. Then again, if I didn’t meet them there, where would I meet them? The war room contained strategic information not to be seen by the people. In my position of authority over the kingdom, the throne room was the only logical place for me to receive the citizens. But then came the question as to where I’d sit. I wouldn’t usually dare sit on the king’s throne, even in his absence. And although I’m standing in for his authority, I’d normally be content to sit on the queen’s throne. But Erendriel removed the second throne long ago, leaving only his.
“Yes, I’ll be there,” I replied confidently .
I turned to the mages. “I’m sorry to interrupt the meeting so abruptly. We’ll resume when I’ve finished hearing from the people.”
I followed the chancellor into the castle.
I entered the familiar beige-and-gold-tiled room with its tall white columns. I had always found the throne room to exude candor. My eyes rested on the statue of Solandra, the ancient elven queen. She had reigned for a long time at Alluin’s side. Everyone recognized her beauty, but people remembered her fairness and kindness. I’d always told myself that if I were born to rule the kingdom, I’d model myself on her. Mathias stood near the wall, waiting for me to sit.
Erendriel’s great silver throne stared at me from the top of the steps. With its velvet cushion, it suddenly seemed too wealthy and conceited, staining the purity of the room. Still, I made my way to it, sitting as best I could on the throne, which was too big for me.
“Let the citizens in,” I ordered. The chancellor motioned to the guards, who complied.
A dozen elves entered the room. They were mostly wood elves and appeared to be of different ages. Their clothes showed they weren’t particularly wealthy. Their self-confidence was soon replaced by doubt as they walked toward me uncertainly, observing the room in detail.
I waited until they reached the stairs. Nausea gripped me as they curtsied. I wasn’t a queen; I didn’t deserve this gesture of respect. But I said nothing, holding my head high, reminding myself that I was standing in for the king.
I spoke in a loud voice. “It seems you threatened to enter by force. You know you could be arrested immediately and thrown into the dungeons for these remarks.”
One of the elves grabbed the arm of a muscular young elf at her side, startled by my words. The older elf stepped forward. Her silver hair was held in a bun, and her face bore the signs of a long life of hardships. However, her violet eyes were still full of vigor.
“Our apologies, Grand Wizard. We didn’t know how to convey the urgency of our request. Far be it from us to threaten the kingdom.”
I understood exactly what she meant and couldn’t hold it against her. “You’re lucky the king is away at war. He wouldn’t have been as merciful as me. Remember never to do that again,” I warned the citizens.
They all nodded, and I added, “Now, what problem is so urgent that you would risk your freedom?”
The group waited anxiously for the older elf to talk. The woman fiddled with her fingers and took a deep breath. “We’ve lost our magic.”
A knot formed in my stomach. This was my greatest fear. It had begun. But I let nothing show, gripping the throne’s armrests and keeping a straight face.
“You’ve lost your magic? The whole group?” I asked in astonishment.
The elder elf nodded. “Yes, Grand Wizard. I have no idea what happened. We all woke up one morning and had no magic. We would have come sooner if we weren’t too ashamed to discuss it. It’s only today that we realized we weren’t the only ones losing magic.”
I stared in shock. I knew why they were losing their magic. I swallowed. “What level are you?”
“We’re all M-1,” she replied .
Every elf was born with a certain level of magic. A preliminary rank was assigned at age five when the king selected the best to join the castle mages. A second assessment was then made at the age of majority.
Those born as M-1 possessed the lowest magical force. The M-1 elves didn’t have enough magic to light a flame from nothing but enough to turn a page in a book or make a bud bloom. They were each born with a unique talent, which they embraced as they could only cast one spell.
Compared to M-1, the higher levels could master different schools of magic. You had to be at least M-8 to work for the king. I was at the highest level, M-10, which included everything stronger than M-9.
It was just as I’d predicted. With the waning of elven magic, the weakest would notice it first.
“How did you find out?” I asked in a calm tone.
I may have looked posed, but I was frantically trying to find what to say to the group. Magic was taken for granted for our race. How could I explain that from now on, they would have to do without it without causing a rebellion in the kingdom?
The older elf explained, “I used my magic daily to enhance my soup, but two days ago, I realized it wasn’t working anymore. Not that I can’t cook, but that was my only magical power, so I appreciated being able to take advantage of it.”
“I used to calm the rabbits at my farm. It stopped working two weeks ago,” explained another elf.
“About eight days ago,” said another. “I used to chase crows away from my field.”
One by one, they explained about their lost powers. It had all happened in the last few weeks. These were small daily tasks and might have seemed irrelevant to the stronger mages, but it meant a lot to them. It was the only gift they’d ever been born with, and it was gone.
“At first, I was ashamed. I didn’t dare talk about it. It was only this morning, when we got together to discuss the harvest and our work, that I dared to say it,” added the eldest elf. “We’re a group of neighbors and friends, so it’s less awkward,” she explained. “That’s when I realized I’m not alone. We’ve all lost our magic.”
They all looked at me, and I could see their hope. The hope that I’d have a cure for what ails them and they’d regain their powers. But I knew it was impossible. A question occurred to me. How widespread was it?
“What about your other neighbors?” I asked.
“As far as I know, they still have their powers,” replied the eldest.
“I saw Euldris calling for rain on her field this morning,” added another.
I released my breath. It meant I still had some time. I wouldn’t have a rebellion on my hands.
“Can you help us? You’re a Grand Wizard. Surely you know what’s happening to us.”
The secret I’d been keeping weighed heavily on me. I couldn’t reveal that they lost their magic because of Scorchfire’s death. There was nothing I could do to help them other than to bring the dragons back to life. Was that even possible?
I had no choice but to lie to them for the kingdom’s sake and to buy some time. “Fear not. I know the cure, but it will take several weeks before your magic returns. ”
“What should we do?” asked the eldest.
I answered, “It’s just a sickness. Go buy some hyssop. Make yourself a cup of tea every day. You’ll see, after a few weeks, your magic will be back.”
It was a blatant lie that made me sick, but I had no choice. In a position of power, sometimes you had to refrain from information for the greater good. Full of hope, the group smiled.
“Oh, thank you, Grand Wizard. We’re off to the herb store right now.”
They bowed and left the throne room. Disgusted, I returned to the mage tower to finish the meeting. But the agenda had suddenly changed.
“Are you all right?” asked Mitra worriedly when I reached the library.
I answered nothing, waving them to follow me. I knew what needed to be done. It was time to tell them all the truth and free myself from this heavy secret.
“Elven magic is waning,” I started.
The wizards looked at me in shock. “I have much to reveal to you. Listen carefully,” I began. I told them about the origins of the elven race, our link with the goddess of beauty and the holy dragon, and how Scorchfire’s death marked the beginning of the decline of our magic.
“And now the M-1 citizens are beginning to lose their magic completely. We need to fix this.”
“But how?” asked a distraught wizard.
“I don’t want to lose my magic,” cried another.
The news had had the effect I’d feared, as everyone became agitated, and I wondered if I had done the right thing by telling them. But I needed their help. I had no choice but to tell them.
“Listen to her,” shouted Mitra sternly, taking everyone by surprise as silence fell again.
I smiled at the elf I loved, pleased with his intervention. I spoke confidently. “To save elven magic, we must bring the dragons back to life. If we could find an intact egg, we could hatch it.”
A long silence settled over the room. I continued, saying out loud what they were thinking, “No one knows if any intact eggs are left. Over the years, dozens of dragon lairs have been found, but all the eggs were destroyed. It seems unlikely that we’ll find intact eggs. I suggest we concentrate on bringing the dragons back to life.”
It was a crazy idea, and I wondered if I was going insane. But then again, in an insane world, it was the sane who were called crazy.
“Do you have a plan?” asked Mitra, approaching me.
The truth was, I didn’t, but I had to look like the leader I was. “We’ll start by stealing Scorchfire’s heart. We can’t leave it in the hands of the Shadow Weavers anyway, and that will always be a start.”
All stared at me, the room heavy under the importance of the task. “In the next few days, you all need to join the ranks of the Shadow Weavers. I’ll need every one of you.”
That gave me a few days to come up with a real plan. I only hoped it would be enough.