Chapter 296 - The Wandering Wizard

I liked this one :)

The clearing around the Great Tree was empty. Hump approached its giant root system alone and gazed up at the monolith. Its branches creaked as they swayed in the gentle breeze, brown leaves falling in a constant, steady rain. It had been three days and still the tree showed no signs of healing. Its branches were emptier than ever, its trunk greying and dry.

“It is dying,” a voice said. “Not even I can save it now.”

Hump almost leapt out of his skin as he whirled around to find a woman standing beside him, appearing seemingly from nowhere. He sensed no power from her, yet somehow the woman had snuck up to his side. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in rich, flowing waves of brown, framing her face. Sadness filled her eyes as she looked at the tree. They were green like Celaine’s.

Other than being beautiful, she appeared completely ordinary, but Hump recognised her. Even without her long silver hair, her antlers, and her presence, he knew it was Owalyn that stood beside him. And this time, it was not just her spirit.

“You’ve escaped your binding.” Hump whispered the words without thinking, as if fearing who might overhear.

Owalyn walked ahead of him, placing a hand on one of the roots and running her hand along it as one might soothe a child. Her garb was a masterpiece, woven from the finest silks and adorned with patterns that mimicked the intricate designs of leaves, vines, and flowers.

“You recognise me then. You are a clever one. My own people did not see me.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t suddenly appear and scare the life out of them beside the Great Tree,” Hump said. “Much easier to connect the dots from this angle.”

She smiled. “Are you mocking me?”

Hump shook his head quickly. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t dare.”

“Then it is true what I have heard.”

“What’s that?”

“That wizards are wise.” Her smile twisted into a sinister smirk, and Hump saw the huntress that lurked within. The woman he’d seen slay a god with a single arrow. A being even the Pantheon feared.

“My master always told me I was good at keeping my mouth shut,” Hump said. “I suppose you could call that some sort of wisdom.”

The huntress faded from her as she looked him up and down, a friendly smile on her face. “Somehow I struggle to believe that. But that’s alright. Today is a good day. As you said, my shackles are broken, and you have no idea how good it is to properly feel the air again.”

“Forgive my brashness, but how are you free?” Hump asked.

“Irila sought to kill me along with my tree,” Owalyn said. “What she failed to understand was that this was not just my home, it was my prison. As its power fades, mine only grows stronger.” Owalyn held up her hand, and suddenly the eye he’d seen at the centre of the lich’s formation appeared in her palm. “You looked into the Eye of Gius, didn’t you?”

Hump looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught up in its power again.

“There is nothing to fear,” Owalyn said. “It cannot reach you here.”

“I looked,” Hump said, still not turning back to the eye. “It showed me a vision of a battle—the owner of that eye’s final battle, before you slew him.”

“That battle you saw was little more than a skirmish in the War of the Firmament,” Owalyn said. “Gius was a minor god with powers of plague. Somehow, Irila was able to harness his dying hate to create a weapon that could harness his power of decay.”

“Is that why I saw that vision?”

“Perhaps. It is hard to say. Eyes are the window to the soul, and a god’s soul is powerful. Even a weak one.”

“And you used this attack to break your seal.”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you send us?” Hump asked. “Your people died in Estora—I almost died there. If Irila’s magic was to set you free anyway, you could have gone there yourself and taken care of her. She was your mess after all.”

Owalyn fixed him with a stare and Hump forgot to breathe.

Idiot, he snapped at himself as he realised how forward he’d just been.

He stood there, unable to move, unable to even speak as she decided his fate.

The pressure faded, and Owalyn spoke. “How has one so young become so lost of hope and cynical?”

“I’ve seen a lot of shit,” Hump said. “Wherever I go, the powerful exploit the weak and bad things seem to happen. The more I see of the world, the more that proves true.”

“That is the way of the world, is it not? The predator feasts while the prey dies. Good and evil are concepts for children.”

“If you think so. Personally, there just seemed to be a whole lot of grey, and it’s only getting cloudier.”

“Well, you can relax. While Irila’s attack helped me to break my seal, it nearly killed me too. It is only now that some time has passed that I have recovered enough to appear here. My people did not die for nothing, and I would not let them. If Irila was left to her plan, not only would I now be dead, but all of Drakalyn would have fallen.”

Owalyn was not known for her lies and scheming. She was straight as an arrow—a goddess that lived amongst her people and gave them the power they needed to survive. Looking into her eyes, Hump believed her.

He nodded. “Forgive me for losing my temper.”

“To be angry for the sake of others is a trait worthy of praise, not condemnation. There is nothing to forgive. You may be at ease around me, Humphrey. Not only have you helped my people, but you have helped me. The reason I asked to see you is to give you what you are owed.”

Owalyn raised a hand, reaching for the branches far above her. There was a glint of silver light between her fingers, and she plucked at something. Suddenly, a sprig of the Great Tree appeared in her hand. Power filled it, and the shrivelled leaves shone silver, unravelling and returning to what they once were. Hump felt the breathtaking power of life and death in them—Owalyn’s power. The Mother and the Huntress.

She walked toward Hump and held out her other hand. “Give me your staff.”

He handed it to her. She wrapped the stem of the sprig around the shaft just beneath the focus crystal, tying it in place so that the sprig dangled down. The silver light shone brighter until Hump had to squint against its radiance. When Owalyn’s power faded, the sprig was bound to the staff as if by silver thread, and the leaves glistened like the most perfect of silver.

Lost in its beauty, Hump didn’t even notice when Owalyn offered his staff back to him.

“Take it,” she said. “I give to you the Silver Sprig, formed from the last of the Great Tree’s strength. It will absorb the essence of nature, healing those it touches and restoring their stamina. May it serve you as well as it has done for me.”

Hump didn’t know what to say as he took back his staff. The sprig swung, light as a feather, a dusting of silver essence falling from the six leaves as the last of Owalyn’s power faded from them.

“I hope it is sufficient,” Owalyn said. Then she smiled. “You asked me for gold, but silver always suited me better.”

“Gold?” Hump said, searching his memory. He recalled the conversation he’d had with her when she’d given him the leaf pendant before facing the lich. “Ah.” Hump laughed. “I believe I simply wanted Celaine and I to return safely.”

“Is that so? Well, it is yours anyway.”

Hump bowed his head. “My thanks, Lady Owalyn. I shall carry it proudly.”

And he meant it. An artifact that could heal was beyond priceless, especially with his poor affinity with healing magic.

“There is more,” Owalyn said. “Once again, I offer you my blessing.”

Had there ever been a person offered a blessing by a god a second time? It sure was tempting. Power would keep him safe, it would help him on his journey, but it came at a price. He thought of his new technique and of the spell tree he’d progressed on. It had warned him against strength without a proper foundation. And it was a warning he intended to heed.

“I—”

Owalyn held up a finger, silencing him. “Before you answer, let me tell you this. The blessings of the Pantheon are like a cage. They grant stability to the soul, but they also confine it to the form they desire, preventing it from advancing without their permission first, and never allowing their Chosen to gain true strength of their own. Just as the blessing grants them powers, it seals their soul from growing beyond the means of their god. They can never surpass the chains of mortality.”

Hump swallowed at the mention of surpassing mortality. He was stunned by the news. If it was true… it changed everything. Chosen could not ascend, but practitioners could?

“And yours is different?” Hump asked.

“Yes. My blessing promotes growth, enhancing the strengths of my Chosen and helping them on their path. It does not confine them to one path.”

“So, it would not change me?” Hump asked. “I would still be the same. My essence would still be the same.”

“No.” Owalyn shook her head. “It would further align your essence with mine, changing your soul to one that followed the path of the hunter—a hunter of knowledge, in your case, just as you are now.”

A hunter of knowledge, Hump repeated in his head. He had to admit, he liked the sound of that. But he had already made up his mind. He knew himself, and his heart. Magic was his calling, and he did not want to change what he had already gained.

“I must still refuse your offer,” Hump said. “Sorry… Truly, it is generous of you to give me the opportunity again, but I’ve already found my path, and I must remain steadfast on it.”

Owalyn nodded. “I can sense that in you. You are stronger than when we last met.” She let out a long sigh then clasped her hands behind her back, smiling. “Well, I tried, but I shall respect your decision. I look forward to seeing where your resolve carries you. I cannot say if my offer is better than the path you follow, for the Silver Owl is wise beyond measure.”

Hump looked at her, suddenly alert. Interest peaked at the mention of the owl. He’d been trying to find a moment to ask more of it, for Owalyn had promised him answers if he helped her.

“Will you tell me what you know of it?” Hump asked.

“Him,” Owalyn correct. “And I know only a story. It is an old story. Even when I was young, this was a tale thought of as legend. Do you wish to hear it?”

Exploding with excitement, Hump nodded. “Please.”

“There was once a man that sought to master the Will of the World. He travelled far and wide, learning the secrets of magic. He did not desire power, nor wealth or even strength. It was a puzzle that had to be solved, so that’s what he would do.

“From place to place he roamed, forever helping those in need and learning of what they knew about the world. As his deeds grew greater, so too did his fame. Tales of the Wandering Wizard spread far and wide, and with it, word of his knowledge. Until one day, people sought him out, driven by greed and a desire for strength and power.

“The Wandering Wizard fought and flew, and for a long time he was lost to the world. But his hunters did not give up. Knowing of his caring heart, they set a trap, casting a city in darkness until the Wandering Wizard came to help. They captured him, and from him they stole his knowledge.”

And then she chanted:

Remember now the thirteen thieves,
Imira stole the moon and stars,
Emirai claimed the spark of life,
Rathlar embraced the dark of death,
Kelisia usurped the throne of winter,
Ordana seized summer and flame,
Seres pilfered the wind and storms,
While Sumi took the depths of the ocean,
Byzantius seized his battle cry,
Loften the art of craft and runes,
Vesta his language and luck,
Osidium his secrets of stone,
Light, who snatched the secrets of day and night,
And then there is Uvdar, greediest of all,
whose hunger stole his sacred soul.

As she finished the last line, Hump’s heart was in his throat. He didn’t breathe, stunned by what he’d heard. He’d never heard anything like this. An origin of the Pantheon and how they stole their strength.

“When all was said and done,” Owalyn continued, “the Wandering Wizard remained trapped atop a tower, hidden from the world. But throughout his many years of travel, he had made numerous friends. It was now that the silver owl came to his aid, taking him from his tower and flying him away.

“His name was Glynadril, and he was the mightiest and most loyal of followers. The wisest, kindest, and closest of them all. But in their escape, Glyndaril was slain, and so ended the Wandering Wizard’s kindness.

“In his fury and sorrow, the wizard harnessed the heartstone of his most beloved familiar and forged a mighty weapon. With it, he destroyed the city that the thirteen called home, and cast them out to a world of their own. There, they remained, until the War of the Firmament began.”

Silence lay between them as she concluded the story. Hump had never imagined his spellbook to be born of such sorrow, nor the Pantheon to truly be so evil.

“Is it true?” Hump asked quietly, struggling to believe it. He was the first person to doubt things, but this was the Pantheon. To even suggest that their power was stolen… it was unimaginable.

Owalyn shrugged. “Who is to say? It is a story. Like all stories, there is likely a grain of truth in there somewhere, but I cannot say what it is.”

“But are the Pantheon truly this evil?”

“That depends on perspective. I will say this much—the gods of the Pantheon are not above such deeds, and I am no friend to them.”

“If you are not a friend, why didn’t they kill you like the other gods?” Hump asked. “Why spare someone that is such a threat?”

“Why do you think they did not kill me?”

Hump frowned. “Either they couldn’t, or the cost of doing so wouldn’t be worth it.”

A fearsome look came over Owalyn’s face, and a terrifying grin. “Exactly.”

“But now that you are free, are you not worried they will come for you?” Hump asked.

“They do not know.”

“Are you not worried I might tell them?”

She looked at him. “Because you’re not stupid enough to test your luck against the greatest hunter in all the lands.”

Hump laughed and said, “Yeah, that’s a good reason.”

“That, and because I can see your heart,” Owalyn said. “You’ve proven yourself worthy of my blessing, whether you accept it or not. More than that, you have helped my people greatly. There is a debt between us, and one day I will repay it.”

“Just not with gold.” Hump joked.

Hump was certain Owalyn almost laughed—almost. The smile on her lips at least appeared genuine. “A favour from me is worth far more than gold, and it is yours to claim whenever you wish.”

“Thank you,” Hump said. “And thank you for this.” He shook his staff, the silver sprig waving beneath it.

“You are most welcome. Goodbye, Wizard Humphrey. I shall look forward to our next meeting.

With that, she was gone, vanishing into nothingness. From the very beginning, Hump hadn’t sensed the slightest touch of essence. One thing he knew was that he was sure glad that this particular goddess was on his side. There was no doubt in his mind that if she wanted him dead, he wouldn’t even see the arrow that killed him if she wished it.

Leaving the clearing of the Great Tree, Hump felt a sense of finality. It was strange. Seeing the Great Tree and knowing it was dying changed little for him. It wouldn’t affect his life, nor have a real effect on anything around him once he left Drakalyn, but it was a piece of ancient beauty, and soon it would be gone. That alone was enough reason to be sad.

Then there was a high-pitched cry as Nisha flew through the air and crashed into the ground at Hump’s feet, scurrying around his legs and rubbing against him. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t sensed her close.

“Hey,” came a voice as he made his way past the temple gardens and back toward the rest of the village. He looked over to see Celaine seated on the bench where Hump had first been summoned to Owalyn’s domain in the tree.

He smiled, walking over to her, Nisha following behind. “I thought you’d be back home.”

As he sat down beside her, Nisha put her front paws up on his lap and he stroked her head.

“Myra was just about to leave to see Stonefang and dad and mum were working. Thought I’d fetch Nisha from Vamir and come wait for you. How did it go?”

Hump showed Celaine the Silver Sprig. “How do you think?”

Celaine’s eyes widened. “That’s a piece of the Great Tree.”

“It’s a healing artifact,” Hump said. “And I’m guessing a powerful one at that.”

“Right.” Celaine nodded. “So it went very well then.”

“Better than I could have asked for, really.”

He told her what Owalyn had told him. About Irila and her father, about Glyndaril, and about the gods that stole the Wandering Wizard’s power. Celaine listened, just as stunned as he was.

“If this is true… what will you tell Bud?” Celaine asked. “And Dylan, of course. I think Dylan will take it better.”

“Nothing,” Hump said. “True or not, this is far bigger than me.”

“But he’s believing a lie.”

“What’s the lie?” Hump asked. “It doesn’t matter why the twelve are so powerful—their power is a fact. What happened over a thousand years ago changes nothing.”

“We can’t keep a secret this big from our own party.”

“We have to. Just think of the scale of all this. Anthony’s warlocks are plotting to release the old gods for a second War of the Firmament. The Three Eyes are fighting to stop them. Then there is the Pantheon and their fanatics, if they heard what we had to say… well, we’d be burned as heretics. And why would Bud believe the tales of a foreign god?”

Celaine bit her lip and sighed. “I don’t like this. I don’t like how connected that book of yours makes you either.”

“Neither do I, but at least I know more now.” He pressed a hand to The Book of Infinite Pages at his hip. “It is no longer just a book, it is Glyndaril. One day I will find the truth.”

Celaine let out a long breath, leaning back in her seat. “It’s your decision, just know that I disagree.”

“Noted.”

“And if this comes back to bite you, I’m going to remind you of this conversation.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Hump watched as Nisha started sniffing the flower beds nearby, moving between them with the curiosity of a child, amazed by everything she saw.

“Have you told your family that you’re leaving yet?” Hump asked.

“Absolutely not,” Celaine said, shaking her head. “You reckon we can sneak off without them noticing? Slip out in the night and disappear.”

“It would be easier.” Hump laughed. “But you can’t do that to them.”

“They won’t understand,” Celaine said. “Especially my mum. She was very upset that I didn’t come back sooner.”

“Not talking to them will definitely help with that.”

Celaine sighed. “You have no idea. She’s going to cry, try to convince me to stay. Myra’s going to be an absolute mess, and my dad… there’s a look. He’ll put on a brave face and wish me luck, but I’ll see how sad he is in his eyes.”

“You still have a week. Best make the most of it.”

A grin came over Celaine’s face. “One week, and then we’re back on the road—”

“—Not the road,” Hump cut in. “Dragon back. How long do you think it’s been since Sheercliff City saw a dragon in their skies?” Hump laughed at the thought of the shocked crowds down below. “I honestly can’t wait.”

“You don’t think they’ll try to shoot us down, do you?”

Hump frowned. “No… No, probably not. Countess Daston must have seen this possibility. Right?” He glanced at Celaine, suddenly doubting himself.

“Don’t ask me! You’re the one who knew her better.”

“Could you shoot them an arrow message?” Hump suggested with a smile.

Celaine rolled her eyes. “Because shooting arrows at them from dragon back is such a great idea!”

“Fine! I’ll practice using Distant Whisper on the way back again,” Hump said. “I’m sure a bit of warning would be appreciated either way.”

Celaine rubbed a hand over her face, letting out a helpless laugh. “Why do you always make things so difficult?”

Hump grinned. “I’ll admit, it’s at least a little fun to rile you up.”

Nisha sneezed, a burst of fire exploding from her nose and roasting a flowerbed. She blinked, looking confused at the burnt remains. Laughter bubbled up, and before Hump knew it Nishari was jumping between the two of them, sharing in their excitement.

Their time in Drakalyn was coming to an end.

Hump had accomplished what he’d set out to do. Owalyn herself told him that he’d changed. His soul was not the same as before, it was stronger. The walls he’d formed using Spirit Overflow sealed inside his essence, and with it, those hunting him wouldn’t find him. That was, of course, unless said hunter was a goddess.

The trials were over. He’d refused a goddess… twice. Slain a lich. And now it was time to go home.

***

And so ends Book 4. I'm pretty darn pleased with this one, so hope everyone liked it! Be great to get your thoughts in the comments but this one felt like the cleanest of the series so far, even though it's about 80k words longer than I was aiming for......... 

It's been the best year on patreon yet and is a big part of what makes doing this full time possible, so thanks so much for all the comments and support. Feedbacks been really useful, and I've been keeping track of things to edit for the final draft.

Going into Book 5, I think it's going to be the coolest in the series so far. I think I've said that for every book, but as the cast of characters gets stronger, there's just way more stuff for them to do. Until Hedge Wizard, I'd never made it to the point where the protagonist of one of my books is actually starting to get as strong as Hump, and it's been a ton of fun to write.

Book 5 continues on Tuesday. See you then :)

Also, I actually got the chapter title right this time. I quadruple checked as it's the last one.