The Magician's Prince

Chapter 1

To these people I am but another unremarkable man, going about his mundane business, in an ordinary market, the man thought. He watched a woman filling her woven basket with ripe green olives. To his right, a merchant held up a dozen necklaces of unique craft on each hand, shouting out prices and promises of beauty and fortune. He studied the locals, as he often did, amused by the sight of normal people doing normal things. Pondering the idea that even the most extraordinary events start with normal people doing normal things.

As he walked his tall but unimposing figure drew no special attention, nor compensation, as people bustled about bumping into him on their way through the stalls. If they knew, would they cower, he wondered. Would they run up to pledge themselves to his cause? Would they take this chance to try stopping him? He doubted any of them would ever even know how close they came to him. While the thought experiment amused him on his trek through the market, he cared little for what these people thought or what his plans would do to them.

His gaze wondered from stall to stall taking in all the intricately crafted goods and assorted foods in various stages of being cooked. Most of the goods bore signatures clearly indicating they were produced by local craftsman. Then there were the tables which held goods clearly representing the skill and styles of people living in some far-off land. So much has changed since I first walked through these streets and yet the market hasn't changed a bit, he thought. It is fitting I would walk through the place that defined so much of my past, the place which opened my eyes to the wonders of the world, on the day I take my first steps toward my future. The merchants had seemed so friendly and welcoming at first. His hand slide down his opposite arm toward the scars on the back of his hand. A reminder of the cruelty those same merchants had shown to a hungry boy too poor to eat.

His respect for their skill and craftsmanship could not fully counter his mild contempt for needing them. Blacksmiths had carefully crafted their techniques over generations of family operation. Tradesman searched far and wide for anything the locals could not make for themselves. I cannot allow myself to fully give into this jealousy. It would be a long road before he could push his own people to acquire this level of skill. I need to continue studying them so that I know what strings I can pull and which to leave alone.

He had been born in some off land across the sea. His parents sent him off at a young age hoping he would find more opportunity in Taikota. After being branded a thief he ran into the endless plains surrounding Taikota one day without a care for his future. Deep in the grassland with bloody feet and no knowledge of how to survive a single horseman took pity on him. They rode for what seemed like days, but they eventually they rode into a makeshift settlement which severed as shelter for the horseman's tribe. In stark contrast to the city, he found acceptance and felt valued among the tribe. It was a strange thing but even the way the tribe had sought locks of his golden hair for luck had made him feel welcome.

"Ah", he gasped as a particularly heavyset man bumped into him, causing him to drop his bag. He frantically checked the contents of the bag and was relieved when nothing looked broken. He inspected a few of the vials more closely as even small amount of these substances mixing in uncontrolled amounts could lead to very unexpected, and potentially dangerous, results. The heavyset man had continued walking without even a look back. I bet he would remember to watch where he is going if I branded his eye shut, the man thought. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

He wished the rest of his adopted tribe could see the Taikotan as he did. The tribe elders were dangerously short-sighted and naive. Where the elders saw freedom and tradition, he saw naiveite. The coastal cities were starting to overflow and he had passed more than one town scryer in the past few days planting thoughts of settlement on the vast inland plains. It would not be long before he feared the tribes were on a warpath with a much bigger, better trained, and technologically advanced enemy.