Newblood - A fantasy novel for NaNoWriMo 2018; CHAPTER- 7: The canvas

Autumn, Year 21 of Koram

Myanse of Fernvale was a good orator and Mahon was absorbed by the the history, his own history, the mage recounted.

Zarafar was an Aghauri royal. Before I can tell you more; what is an Aghauri royal? Aghauri myths narrate that there was a time, hundreds of years ago, when the only sentient race on this land was humans. Not as they are right now but barbarians, hunting tribes living in caves and forests. They would not have progressed but the arrival of the Celestial Shard changed everything. It crashed into a valley that was well populated. Hundreds died immediately in the tremendous blast of the crash. Many died due to burns and poison fumes. After a few days many of the people who survived became fair skinned, taller and stronger- these were the first Elven.

The shard itself was a small crystalline stone a handspan long. But it exuded energy and the Elven people discovered that proximity to it increases energy and vitality. Soon a temple came up surrounding the shard, limiting each persons time in front of it. The persons governing the temple were the future Elven nobility. Elven became powerful enough to enslave human tribes into service. The first city started to take shape by the blood and toils of humans augmented by Elf magic and prowess.

Nature does tend towards balance. So as the Elven grew more and more powerful just by being near the shard, it was inevitable that a tribe of strong and fearless hill men who had evaded capture for many seasons; learned about the secret of Elven power. They sought help from of the slave families and organized a raid on the temple when many of the Elven nobles had gone on a hunting expedition- for food or new human tribes, that is not clear. More than three hundred warriors entered the city through sewage tunnels, while others started fires in the city. Many died but they managed to capture the shard and made it till the outskirts of the city. The Elven not wanting to share their power combined their might in a burst of explosive fire, aiming to destroy the savages and the shard. Again hundreds died, the shard would have been destroyed but it was already underground carried into caverns one waiting group passing it to the next. The explosion was so massive that the caverns collapsed in many places and the shard broke into pieces. The surviving members not wanting to give the pieces back to the approaching Elven army, swallowed them before sneaking away over the hills. These were the first Aghauri- the royals.

Centuries later, studies by the Elven showed that the shard was leaking power into the earth itself from the instant it crashed. The magical energy is woven among all living things. Elven were the most radically affected group. Back to Zarafar. Aghauri tradition bans the royals from combat. There are two reasons stated for this. One; this group is the most endowed with magic blood and should be respected and kept safe. Second that they were too powerful, no challenger had any chance against them, even if the royal was a young boy and the challenger a seasoned warrior. Zarafar had attacked some Aghauri soldiers to stop them from raping a human. The soldiers were summarily beheaded and Zarafar was exiled by a blood curse never to return to his home.

I met Zarafar when he came to Fernvale posing as a mixedblood wanting to study magic. I soon made him out to be Aghauri pureblood but myself being an exile I felt a kinship to him. He studied under me and soon outstripped me in magic and earth studies. He eventually told me about his past and since then we were good friends. He liked traveling and meeting different people, he even sailed the seas for a few months. Always he came back with artifacts and scrolls for me and stories of course! Till he met your mother in Farside. I traveled from Fernvale to meet the lady for whom Zarafar was willing to settle down. There I befriended Pinnet and Ellysia. I stayed there for ten days and when I was coming back Zarafar and Ellysia handed me a parcel for safe keeping. These were artifacts of house Grendale. They wanted to get away from their past and live a full life. I worked on this cavern to house those relics. When Pinnet reached me here after his escape with you and Aasia, I decided to stay here and guard these till you and Aasia came to claim them.

Mahon did not know how much time had passed but it seemed like weeks. The tale of his father Zarafar, the Aghauri royal had been the target of his complete attention. Now when he sat in the kitchen while master Myanse cooked, he felt grieved but his mind was calm. A sense of responsibility was heavy on his shoulders but also a sense of fierce pride- for his father who loved life , his grandfather- who was willing to step away from the throne to uphold his ideals, his mother- the brave and beautiful elf who found love in an Aghauri heart, for Pinnet - the doggedly loyal friend who had to give up living his own life to help twin orphans survive. "Mahon!" Myanse called out. "Get me the bowls please." Mahon shaken out of his reverie found his vision blurred with tears, he quietly wiped his eyes and stood to get the bowls.

The next morning Mahon cleaned the kitchen and made cocoa, with water and sugar, there was no milk. After a meager meal of Cocoa and biscuits Myanse led him back to his chamber and they sat across from each other. Myanse started the instruction. "Before we start any training you need to recognize the store of magic inside you and so, see the magic outside. It varies how a person will perceive magic but generally it is like a ball of warm fire in your stomach. It reacts to your breathing, it may be sparks or a change of color or size. The simplest way is to sit in front of the mirror and look at your self while emptying the mind of all thoughts and concentrating on your breathing. When you can see it; try to make it react like you want- light up your hand for example." Myanse showed Mahon the mirror he had kept covered and walked out saying. " I will be back in a few hours."

When Myanse returned after two hours with pickled vegetables, flat bread and a pitcher of water he found Mahon staring at the mirror. His face a mask of concentration and body rigid with tension. "Take a break." He said setting the tray on the low table. "Come let's breakfast together." The flat bread was slightly sweet and still warm, well matched by pickled vegetables which were sharp and salty. They ate in silence for most of the meal. Near the end Myanse said. "Magic is natural and you have it, you don't need to force it but acknowledge it. You don't need to imagine it but feel it. Once you sense it you will be able to see it. As I said before, this experience is unique for everyone." After finishing breakfast with a glass of water Myanse left Mahon to wash the dishes and clean the room. He was also to rub down the horse, water and feed it and clean out the stable. Later he could come back to practice. The next meal would be after four- five hours; and Mahon could call on him if he needed to. Myanse's room was further down the tunnel. If not there he would be in the garden further on.

Mahon completed his chores and returned to his seat in front of the mirror. He sat relaxed and thought about his magic. He had strength to lift three grown men and more, so his shoulders and back maybe were magically affected. He had molded stone by grabbing at it, so there was something in his arms. He could sense Elven, so his awareness was connected and that meant his head. And so on Mahon started to count his extra-ordinary experiences and found that it was useless to do this. His entire being was at one time or the other been magically supported. Then all his parts should be magical reservoirs. He banged a fist on the ground in frustration. He felt his skin split by a tiny sharp stone chip. Mahon brushed it away and saw small red dot of blood swell at the puncture. In a flash he knew, it was not parts of his body- his blood carried the magic.

Mahon closed his eyes and restrained his thumping pulse with slow deliberate breathing. He waited till he was calmed down to open his eyes and look in the mirror. At first he could see no change, then a few veins in his temples stood out- blue, then they turned light blue and then silvery threads with pulses of light covered his face and neck. Mahon was looking at magic flow with his blood. Then in moments all his body was glowing, his heart the brightest of all and there along with silver a blue light pulsed bright but it did not spread from there like the silver one.

"Mahon keep looking at the mirror and raise your right hand in front of you." When Mahon had done it Myanse said. "Now slowly move it till you can see it at the very edge of the mirror. Yes. Now focus your vision there and think that it is brightening. When it begins to shine close your eyes and move your hand away from the mirror and follow it with closed eyes as best as you can." Again Mahon followed the instructions. "Now open your eyes." Mahon opened his eyes to see his right fist glowing silver. Myanse instructed again. "Now extinguish the light. Think it clearly." Mahon did so and his fist stopped glowing.

Myanse stepped near him. "Are you OK? Anything that does not feel right?"

Mahon stood up flexing his fingers. "I'm feeling good, pepped up."

"OK" Myanse raised his right hand, his open palm facing Mahon. "Bring your left hand near mine, palm open."

Mahon raised his hand, palm facing outward. Myanse instructed. "Now think of a tendril of your magic reaching out to mine. I want determine the potential of your abilities. I will link my magic to yours for a few moments. It may feel like a prick but stay with me."

For a few moments nothing happened, and suddenly he felt his outstretched hand starting to heat up. Myanse withdrew immediately and sat down holding his hand. Looking at Mahon he whispered. "Zarafar was right. You are no mixblood. You are newblood."

Sardy was hiding amidst the goats and sheep. Using dirt and hay to cover his body. It was difficult doing this with one hand . The right side of his body was burnt, with skin split and charred. He was bleeding out and the pain should have made him unconscious. Sardy was afraid that he would blackout soon, if not due to pain then due to loss of blood. The Butcher's men had caught him when he went to meet with his contact in Harden. If Sardy had not seen the soldier drawing his dagger in a reflection in the windowpane, he would have been captured. It was pointless to guess how they managed to track him.

"He is nearby somewhere. Block the road on both the sides and ask the men to spread out in pairs and search for him. Take him alive." Sardy heard these instructions "Take him alive." They know about Pinnet or Mahon or Both. At least I can make it less painful Sardy thought. Then he removed his dagger and placed the point in the hollow of his throat. Holding it in his damaged hand, he used his other hand to punch it through, cutting the vital arteries.