The Dwarven Sorcerer

The Dwarven Sorcerer Ch 36

Thrack no longer recognized his own reflection. His face looked aged, more haggard and worn. His eyes were sunken and his face was gaunt and pale; all signs of his youth were gone and a much older dwarf looked back at him. He ran a finger over his new scar, tracing it from his eyebrow over his missing eye and to his cheek. It was grotesque. He wondered what Ula would think of his deformed face. Would she find his scar ugly? Would she want to marry him looking like this? Unable to look at himself any longer, he turned away from the mirror and tied a leather patch over the ugly hole that was his missing eye. Over the last month and a half, Thack's wounds had mended themselves well. Although it would still be some time before he'd regain his full strength, most of the pain was gone. His shoulder still ached mercilessly most mornings and he didn't have the full range of movement yet, other than that he was fine.

Myrddin encouraged Thrack to use his magic every day, not just to release it to prevent accidents, like he normally did, but to learn to control it, mould it into what he desired.

"But you said that the more I use my magic the more powerful it'll become," Thrack had argued.

"That's the point," said Myrddin.

"What do you mean 'that's the point?' The last thing I want is for this bloody curse to grow any stronger; I want it out of me."

"If you're going into the enemy's territory then you'll need as much power as you can get," said Myrddin. "And you'll need to learn to have better control over it. Right now you're a rank amateur; you act on instinct without thought. We need to change that."

"That doesn't make any bloody sense," said Thrack, his face flush with anger. "Once I'm back I'll still need it gone and if it's too powerful then we'll both be fucked."

Myrddin smiled at him gently. "Let me worry about that. The ritual will be strong enough to remove your magic no matter how powerful your power has become. If I mess up the ritual and it goes poorly then we'll both be dead and the last thing I want is to kill myself," said Myrddin. "You'll just have to trust me, young dwarf, you don't have any other choice. Besides, if we both fail in our missions, we won't need to worry about the ritual because we'll both be dead and it won't matter."

Thrack didn't have much to say after that and gave into the wizard. To Myrddin's credit, Thrack did gain a tremendous amount of control over his power. The wizard was there nearly every evening teaching him how to manipulate his power. It was both a blunt weapon capable of tremendous destruction and a supple tool. He had only ever used it to kill and destroy but he was quickly learning that it could be used for much more.

The castle grounds were filled with constant activity. There was a steady flow of farmers who were bringing in their harvest to be stored in the castle for a possible siege. The enemy to the north was unknown to everyone so they prepared for any eventuality. Soldiers practiced for hours every day, honing their skills. But even the strongest of them was an unskilled oaf compared to a young Thenge.

Thrack ate fish, he ate fish for every meal. Lunch was fish, breakfast was fish, supper was fish. Thrack had never eaten anything that had lived underwater before in his life and now he had eaten so much that he was sick of it. Lockland Castle was built on a natural island in the middle of a huge lake, an enormous drawbridge was the only way in and out. It was strange, but Thrack didn't remember seeing a lake when he first approached the castle; of course, he was sick with fever and delirious with pain at the time and couldn't remember much of anything as he came to the castle. The farmer's fields had been cleared and most of the harvest was being preserved so now most of the food being served in the castle came from the lake. If Thrack wanted anything other than fish he had to go to an inn or restaurant and pay handsomely for what little he got.