Pool of Knowledge (The Hidden Wizard Book 1) Read online

  Pool of Knowledge

  Book One of the Hidden Wizard

  Vaughan W. Smith

  Fair Folio

  Contents

  1. Prologue

  2. The Wizard Arrives

  3. Family History

  4. The Test

  5. Wizard Principles

  6. A Chance Encounter

  7. The Wooded Path

  8. A Wizard's Welcome

  9. The White Flame

  10. Destiny

  11. Adventure

  12. Passage to the Mountain

  13. A Disturbance

  14. Inside the Mountain

  15. A New Path

  16. Companions

  17. Under Fire

  18. Regrouping

  19. Boating Accident

  20. A New Way

  21. The Bright Caravan

  22. A New Skill

  23. Fire and Earth

  24. The Return

  25. The Paper Gatekeepers

  26. The Abandoned Gate

  27. The Spark Ignites

  28. One Strike

  29. Baptism

  30. In Dreams

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  1

  Prologue

  Granthion awoke with a start. His heart was pumping and he knew that something was very wrong. He rose from his bed, cursing the aches and pains he felt in his lower back. He could overcome many things, but not age.

  After a moment, he identified the feeling. It was danger, which could only mean one thing. He retrieved the sapphire ring from his bedside table and slipped it onto his finger. He chanted a few words under his breath, concentrating on visualising his target: the matching ring.

  He cleared his mind and let the spell do its work. He started to see images, and with an icy rush found himself looking into a room. He saw his son, surrounded by dark shapes. He strained to look further, to see more details but he could not. The tightness in his chest and physical reaction were now confirmed in his vision. His son had been taken and was in terrible danger.

  "Fool," Granthion said, including both his son and himself in the comment. His own pride and arrogance had driven his son away. But also, it was his son's foolishness and lack of care that had landed him in this predicament. The trouble was, there was no time to save him. Granthion ran his hands through his white hair, trying to think of a solution. If he didn't act fast, his son would cease to be his son. They would transform him into something else, something similar but not the same. The essence would be there, but people were never the same after the turning. He could not allow that to happen.

  There were many spells at his disposal, but his mind kept going back to one. One he was saving for his final hurrah, his final gift to the world. But it came at a cost, and there was no going back.

  No matter how he approached the problem, this was the only solution. It was his life's work, but it looked like fate was forcing his hand ahead of schedule.

  "Oh well, now is as good a time as ever," he said. But before he left, there were preparations to be made. Granthion shuffled over to his desk and retrieved paper and a quill. He wrote swiftly but legibly, two letters. One addressed to his new successor and one to his son. After he was done, he donned his travelling robe, packed a satchel with two crystal orbs and took one last look around the room. It was his home, and he would never see it again. Relics from his many journeys littered the room: magical artifacts, books, treasures, and keepsakes. Each one told a different story. But now he had to leave, and forge one last tale. He left the room and closed the door behind him.

  The tower was still and quiet, as the other elder wizards were all asleep. But he didn't want to take any chances and quickly cast an invisibility spell with a secret inverted hook that would hide him from the other wizards. He would now be completely invisible and not even a trace of magic would be detectable by standard methods. He crossed the large chamber and headed towards the stairs. He never enjoyed them, they were entirely too small and he always felt unsteady on the long walk down. But this time they were like friends, speeding him on his way. He had a new purpose, and it would be fulfilled soon.

  Once he had descended from the tower he looked out across the courtyard. It was empty as expected, but he could still see images of many of his triumphs and those of his students played out before him in his mind's eye.

  "Nostalgic old fool," he told himself and kept walking. He headed straight for the stables, to retrieve his trusty horse, Whitemane. They had been on many journeys together, and it was fitting that they would go on one last quest. As he entered the stables Whitemane was awake and waiting, quietly.

  "You always seem to know something before I do," Granthion muttered to the horse. He led Whitemane out and prepared him for travel. Granthion walked out the main gates beside Whitemane and looked back at the wizard academy. His legacy.

  "May you stand the test of time, and solve that which I could not," Granthion said, then mounted Whitemane and rode off into the forest.

  Once he was out of sight of the academy, Granthion let the invisibility spell lapse, now that the immediate danger of being spotted by other wizards was over. Next, he needed to travel somewhere high to perform the spell. He knew of a smaller mountain nearby, more of a lofty hill if he were honest. But time was against him, so he decided that it would have to do. It was also centrally located within the country of Avaria, and he knew that his son was also somewhere in the vicinity. But he could not track him further.

  Whitemane ran with incredible speed as if he understood the urgency. Granthion was glad; he didn't want to push the horse too hard. There were other means of speeding this up, but he needed to preserve his strength. He would need every ounce for the spell.

  He thought over his plan as he rode. By casting the spell from a height and drawing the right kind of power he could cover the entire country of Avaria. Not knowing where to target the spell wouldn't be a problem, and he would help many other people at the same time. But the cost was so great. Doing the spell would take everything he had, and most likely his life. That was the price for him doing it this way. But it would save his son and countless others.

  There would be repercussions of course, not just for him. Doing this would create an imbalance in the world. If he succeeded, then Avaria would be the only country free of the Blight: something that would cause conflict and jealousy.

  "Not my problem now," Granthion thought. He had spent a lifetime carrying all the problems of the world on his shoulders. Today would be the last day for that.

  He looked up as they were emerging from the forest. He saw the mountain peak in the distance. It didn't look that big from where he was, but he knew it would be enough.

  "I must make it in time," Granthion thought, he was worried. He felt Whitemane increase his speed in response and patted his old friend in thanks.

  The morning sun was starting to emerge, as Granthion arrived at the mountain path. He dismounted from Whitemane and stroked the horse on his head.

  "You have done well my friend, thank you," Granthion said. Whitemane neighed in response and waited patiently. Granthion gave him one last pat on the white mane that had earned him that name and continued on foot.

  The path was rough and steep, it was not meant for a lot of traffic; especially not an old man like himself. He imagined all the ways he could cheat his way up but restrained himself. It kept his mind busy, but he couldn't waste the energy. Physical exertion was one thing, but exertion of his Spark was another. He had to save up every last scrap that h
e had to pull this off.

  Slowly, he trudged up the mountain leaning heavily on his staff. It felt like every two steps he took, he would slide back one, but he persevered. He had an important task, one that he could not fail to do. He took a moment to examine his thoughts and feelings. It wasn't out of love that he was doing this, but regret. Regret in the way he and his son had fallen out, regret at what could have been.

  "I set him on this path. I must set him on a new one," Granthion thought. He pushed harder, winding higher. Finally, he saw signs that he was reaching the top, and made one last effort to make it. As he rounded the last wind of the path he emerged at the top of the mountain. The peak was flat and cleared. There were only a few rocks strewn about.

  "This will do," Granthion said, surveying the view and what he could see. The sun had risen now, and filled the sky with amazing orange colours.

  "The start of a new day, and a new beginning," he thought. He slowly walked over to the middle of the mountaintop and set down his satchel. He retrieved the two crystal orbs. One was snow white, the other jet black: two components of the spell, two aspects. The white one was the source of the cleansing spirit, the black one the conduit and connection to the Blight. By using the two in tandem, he could accomplish the impossible. He could cleanse the taint of the Blight. But the cost was high; his life force was the currency. It was an imperfect and incomplete spell, but it should work.

  Granthion took a deep breath and pictured his son.

  "I love you, and I'm sorry," he said. He held the orbs in his hands, the black one in his left and the white one in his right. He prepared his mind and started to visualise the spell.

  He pictured the country of Avaria, and a white silky net covering it. All those within the net would be affected. Next, he supplied his own Spark, powering up the white orb. He funnelled more and more into it and created a link between himself and the orb. Only the smallest amount remained in his body.

  He sent out his purified Spark, resulting in columns of white light streaking down from the sky, each one targeting a person in the country. The light touched each person, and if they were not tainted by the blight, it dissipated immediately. But those who were couldn't shake the strange column of light that hovered over their heads.

  With this done, he started the final push. By using the black orb, he drew out the Blight from each person, through the orb and into himself. Each time another person was drained of the Blight, he saw a quick flash of their face and soul. Tirelessly he continued, hoping to see the face of his son. When he least expected, it came and went, like all the rest. A feeling of peace washed over Granthion.

  It came in two parts. Firstly, he was relieved that he had found and saved his son. The other more pragmatic part was that he had indeed cured his son; this whole effort was not for nothing. Hopefully, he had acted before the full transition had completed. As grand a gesture as it was, this act wasn't the proper solution he had been working towards. But he was glad that at least his final act would be a successful one.

  However, he didn't stop there, it was too risky and he had a job to finish. He continued pushing until he had touched every person tainted by the Blight. Then he switched the link between him and the orbs, trapping the entirety of the Blight within himself. He felt the taint, corruption, and filth like black sludge on his soul. He understood what those afflicted must have felt, and the effect it had on them. It was terrible, and left unchecked it would turn him into something else entirely.

  With the spell in full effect and the taint of a nation within him, he did the only thing left to do. He used the small amount of his Spark left within to call down one more ray of light from the sky. But this one was not to heal, it was to destroy.

  He felt the white-hot heat searing him, and felt peace. As he was burned away, so was the sludgy taint from his soul. His final gift was to himself, a fitting end to an incredible life.

  2

  The Wizard Arrives

  Vincent unlocked the workshop and ushered his son inside. The lanky young man hurried in, used to the routine. Vincent opened the doors all the way and let the light flood in.

  He looked around, making sure everything was at it should be. The workbenches were clear, the anvil was clear and the forge was ready.

  "Good," Vincent thought.

  "Alrion, how does the workshop look?"

  "Everything is fine. What did you expect?" Alrion said, some annoyance creeping into his voice.

  "It's a good habit to always assess the situation. Otherwise, you can get yourself into trouble."

  "Well, a locked building is usually a safe bet."

  "You can't always be so sure," Vincent said, with a chuckle. He had seen many strange occurrences over the years, some random accidents, some not so random. He walked around the room, giving everything another look over. He was not usually so careful, but he had a strange feeling.

  "It's going to be an interesting day," Vincent said.

  "If you say so."

  "Let's try and finish all the outstanding orders."

  "I don't think we can."

  "Well, let's try," Vincent said. He walked over to the wall and grabbed some charcoal. He wrote up all the orders for the day. There were simple knives, tools, horseshoes, and other assorted implements to be done.

  "Looks do-able," Vincent said, stepping back. Alrion didn't comment.

  "So, do you think you can go buy me the required materials to knock these off?" Vincent said to his apprentice. Alrion looked up at the board and ran his hands through his dark hair.

  "Not sure."

  "C'mon son, you've done this a while. Just think carefully and break it down."

  "No, you've done this for a while. I just help out. You never actually let me do the work. I'm a grown man now, you know. Everyone else in the village is actually doing something with their life, not just acting as a hands-off apprentice."

  "Well, I do admit I've been a little strict in my teaching. But there's a good reason why you haven't been doing the bulk of the work. You're just not interested in being a blacksmith. You've no focus and no desire."

  "Then why keep me here? Why keep going through the motions?"

  "I don't know exactly what the world has in store for you. I had hoped that you would follow in my footsteps. But I do know that I can teach you all you need to know through blacksmithing. It was my lifeline when I was drifting around, looking for a purpose. And also, how I met your mother," Vincent said, walking over to Alrion. He still found it difficult looking up at his taller son.

  "Why are kids always bigger than you?" Vincent thought.

  "Seriously? I can learn all I need to know in the world from blacksmithing?" Alrion said.

  "Sure you can. To be a successful blacksmith you need three things: the knowledge of how to work the metal, an iron will to bend it to your purpose and a passionate heart to bring out the best in it. Those three things are the building blocks for success in any field."

  "Sure, maybe," Alrion said. He turned back to look at the list of jobs.

  "Sorry, I don't know what you need," he said.

  "You do, but you don't trust yourself. Fair enough, it's probably my fault. It's often easier to learn through doing. I'll write you up a list," Vincent said. He scribbled the list on a piece of leather and handed it to Alrion. He delighted in watching his son's face as he read through, the realisation coming together that whatever he had been thinking was not far off what Vincent had written down.

  "Show off," Alrion said to himself, then left the room. Vincent smiled as he watched his son leave.

  "Some things get through, as much as he doesn't like to admit it," Vincent thought.

  Alrion walked quickly through the town. He was annoyed by the way his father handled things, especially when his father was right. He couldn't fault the man's approach too, which made it all the more irritating. But it still didn't help his frustration at being stuck in the same loop. He needed to move on to something else. But for now, he would compl
ete his errands.

  The first stop was the tanner. He knew intimately where the shop was but could smell the animal hides from a long way away. He expected to see Bruce, the tanner but instead, he saw Gavin. The blond-haired man was lounging around.

  "Hey Gavin," Alrion said.

  "Hey Alrion, you running errands?"

  "Yes, we're doing a big push today. Are you minding the shop?"

  "Actually, my old man is out today so I'm running the show."

  "Nice," Alrion said, trying to hide his annoyance. Either he did a good job at masking it or his friend didn't notice.

  "What do you need?"

  "Just these," Alrion said, handing the list to Gavin.

  "Yeah, that's no problem, I have everything here. Although you just made more work for me. If I fulfil this whole order, I'll have to push hard to finish it."

  "Oh well," Alrion said, not worried about Gavin having to do actual work. At least it seemed like meaningful work, rather than buying materials. He watched Gavin go and collect and trim all the hides he needed and let his eyes wander over the town. It seemed so slow and sleepy, that he couldn't imagine what would keep him here.

  "Hey, are you coming out stargazing tonight?" Gavin called out as he worked.

  "Maybe. What's the plan?"

  "We're going to Pyrin's Peak and we have a good group going. Looks to be pretty clear, no clouds at all."

  "Sure, why not?"

  "Great. Meet us at the town gates after dinner and we'll hike over."

  Soon Gavin returned with a pile of hides, all perfectly cured and ready for use. He dumped the pile in Alrion's arms.

  "This should do it," Gavin said, taking enjoyment in Alrion awkwardly trying to carry them all without dropping them.

  "Thanks. My father will come around later and pay."

  "No problem, we know where you live," Gavin said with a laugh and Alrion joined him. Alrion left a bit happier than he had arrived and rushed back to the workshop so he could drop off the hides. He peeked inside and saw his father staring into space.