|War Of The Immortals (standard:fantasy, 1566 words)
|Added: Feb 21 2001
|Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
|The Moderation has been broken, the mages are going to war.
Barnabus sat and watched the worlds turn once more upon the wheel of time. How long he had sat like this, no one knew. His apprentice, Jax, kept his wine glass full and his stew hot. It was a thankless task, but Jax was determined to see this through to the end, just like every other task Barnabus had given him. Neither man had slept in days, but learning to overcome the body’s shortcomings was the first lesson learned in the art of mage-craft. Jax poured more spring wine into the glass sitting in front of Barnabus and started to prepare more stew. Maybe he would add some fresh zale grass this time. It was just starting to bloom, and it would add a nice peppery flavor to the venison stew. Jax wondered what great thinking was going on behind the furrowed brows of the mighty Barnabus as the stew started to come together. “Will that boy ever stop twitting around and leave me be? How can one concentrate with all of his fussing?” was running through the mind of the mighty Barnabus. The old and powerful mage was thinking that all of his hard work as one of the creators of the Moderation had come to naught. The Moderation was an agreement forged a century ago by the warring factions of magicians, mages, wizards and warlocks. It had seen the land through many a crisis, and to have it in near shambles was more than Barnabus could bear. The younger ones among the various societies were hot heads, and did not remember the pain and suffering that centuries of war had brought to the lands, not only the mortal inhabitants, but to the immortal powers as well. Many a Demi-God had been destroyed in the wars and many a God still reeled from the spells cast during the war. Man thought God indestructible, and they are, but they could be made to feel pain. Barnabus’ own deity, Zakkur, had been dealt a mighty blow by an enemy of Barnabus, thinking that is where Barnabus drew his strength. It was with great effort that the enemy was taught the error of his thinking. The war was coming, of that Barnabus was sure. The hotheads among them did not want to share in the distribution of power, even though their very nature made it necessary. The warlocks controlled the elementals. The magicians dealt with fates and destinies of the mortals. The wizards controlled the minds and the powers of the illusions. The mages of the world were the most and least powerful of them all, controlling a little of each of the three powers, but mastering none of them singly. The Demi-gods and Gods were the most powerful of them all, and Demi-gods were found to be mortal, and could be dealt a mortal blow, this kept them out of the earthly realm as they did not chance taking such blows often. The Gods could settle this whole thing with a few waves of their collective hands, but refused as they could only deal with the sections of society that worshipped them. Confusing? Yes. Volatile? Definitely. Barnabus was no closer to resolving his internal conflict and decided that immobility was not helping to solve this problem. He roused himself and spoke to Jax. “Prepare our traveling satchels. It is time for action.” “Yes sir, right away,” was all Jax said and waved the stew back to it original state of fresh vegetables and raw meat. “Damn, boy! Now what are we going to eat? Don’t be so hasty,” Barnabus said and waved his massive hands over the meat, watching it as it turned brown and the fat started to run off and onto the counter. “We will have to eat the vegetables as is. Now go and do my bidding. Prepare for a long journey.” Jax bowed his head and went to the back rooms of the cottage to get together all that they would need. He had no idea where they were going, and he didn’t want to ask, so he packed for warm and cold climates. He gathered together two books, one that Barnabus was writing, and one that Jax himself was studying. He brought it all together on the bed and bundled up the corners of the blanket and tied them in a knot at the center, then stuck a broom handle in the middle of the unwieldy package. Smiling to himself, Jax waved his hands and spoke the appropriate words and the package started to shrink. With each wave of his hands, the package shrank more. Jax stopped when the package was about ½ foot in diameter and the broom stick was now no bigger than a small branch from a willow. He heaved it over his shoulder and went back into the main room of the cottage to tell Barnabus they could leave. Click here to read the rest of this story (65 more lines)
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