The Mage

Chapter Twelve

Timmond had fallen asleep, finding there was nothing better to do she dozed. Her dreams were of childhood and her teacher. She was young when he had given her the ruby.

"Child, look here. This stone here is what blood mages call a totem. A totem can be anything small and personal to you. It will help focus your power and incantations."

She reached out and took the stone. It was big to her, she felt the warmth in her hand. 

Her teacher watched her saying. "Once you put your power into this stone, never let anyone touch it. If they touch it while you're alive their life is forfeit. Your totem will demand their soul."

"I'm sorry teacher," she said in her sleep. "They took it from me."

A hand slapped her young face. "Foolish child. What did I tell you."

"Never to let anyone take it without taking their life."

"You are a fool. Lucky for you, you have yet to really focus your power through it.  There is no need to spill their blood."

A tear ran down her check, she was glad it was hidden by the scarf she wore. "Teacher, why do I need a totem?"

The man crouched in front of him, she could see the beads of sweat form on his bald head. He looked into her eyes as he brushed her hair with his hand.

"Blood Mages use the totem to focus their spells. Without them they can still cast spells but their magic will be unwieldy, imprecise and dangerous to the mage."

Her eyes snapped open. Thank you teacher for your wisdom, I have long forgotten your most important lessons. Shaking her left hand in the shackle she started to pull down. Pain cut into her as her hand fought to break free. I have felt pain and this is nothing, she thought, gritting her teeth. The metal cut her skin, she could feel the blood starting to run down her arm. After a few hours she gave up, the shackle was tighter than she had thought. Though she was able to spill plenty of blood she was not able to reach it with her fingers.




She didn't know how long she had been in the cell. She had slept fitfully on and off, Timmond had been asleep for most of the time. She had tried again at the shackle  as her hope of escape faded. The door banged open. Dagan limped in dragging his broken leg, Brhom trailing behind him. She glanced at Timmond who cowered in fear. Stopping in front of her Dagan grabbed the chains and pulled her to her feet.

"Regnash says I'm not allowed to kill you yet." He said handing the chains over to Brhom. Dagan reached for the butcher's blade on his hip, holding it up to her face, she looked at her reflection in the polished steel.

"This blade was once a blood mage's totem. Can you hear its voice calling for blood? Of course you can." Grabbing her left arm he held it steady. "While I can't kill you, he said nothing about needing both hands." The blade swung, chopping her hand from her arm. 

She cried out in pain, her arm slipping from the shackle. There was bloodlust in his eyes, as he watched her hand fall to the floor. Sheathing the blade, Dagan looked at the hand. He kicked it into the fire before stalking out of the room.

"Don't give her anything for the pain." He ordered as he vanished. "Bind the wound."

Brhom let her back down on the floor and removed some bandages from his bag.  Wrapping the stump of her arm, he left them. Even though he was blind Timmond looked away, leaving her alone to writhe in pain. Lifting her knee she banged it against her jaw trying to focus the pain elsewhere.




Regnash stared down at the ruby. Bask had delivered it before leaving to find some food. Such a little thing he thought, wanting to reach out and hold. He restrained himself, to touch it while she still lives will mean my death. I have much to complete. Taking a section of the book he pushed it further away so it would not disturb his work. The circle was nearing completion. He had ordered Bask to return that evening to receive the finished transmutation. The brethren would start drawing it in the dining hall, while he finished the incantation.