The Scholar's Tale (Original Fantasy)

Book I, Chapter 1

"There is nothing more dangerous than thinking your life cannot change."- Zharna the Fiery, warrior-poet;

Thank Vhaarn I jumped out of a ground floor window, or this would have been awkward. Painful, too. Can't forget that. My Gift-though I call it other names, depending on my day and mood- could neither enhance my body nor create protections around it, like some mages could. Not that I'd ever seen another mage since I left home.

I'd hoped to distance myself from arcane nonsense and everything that comes with it, but I'd never been able to leave well enough alone. Some days, a customer got rowdy for no good reason and I took it upon myself to...calm them down. Mherran did not believe in hiring guards, saying their presence implied you did not trust your fellows, so...

I'd never done anything serious-a memory of pain or nausea, shared through a fleeting touch, was enough to pacify overly-rude customers. The way those people had talked about me, you'd think I'd turned them inside out or something.

I would have to leave the island, after all. A shame. I'd known it wouldn't last forever, but every Midworlder knows to appreciate islands while they last. Some unlucky people only get to live in on place for a few days, then it's back onto the boats, ships or mounts. Speaking of, I'd have to find something to leave the island on. According to regional maps, the closest islands were tens of leagues away, and I wasn't swimming that much. Hopefully, I'd find some sailors who didn't hate me and were willing to take me on their ship in exchange for labour.

Since I escaped the inn in a hurry, I had nothing on me save the clothes on my back and a little pocket change-certainly not enough to pay for a long voyage. Besides, there was little trade between islands in this area, so the only ships leaving would be leaving permanently.

I'd likely have to abandon Xary, though. Just in case one or more of my angry friends decided to get a ship, too, and follow me to "bring me to justice". I'd seen people do foolish things for worse reasons. Still,it was a shame. Of my recent masks, Xary had been the most pleasant and harmless. I'd have liked to meet him, had he been real.

The inn was located in the center of the island, as such establishments often are. It is where the roads end and begin. I'd once heard a story according to which all inns are lesser reflections of the legendary Nexus.

Ha. Maybe one day, after I found the Nexus, I would write my own story and confirm whether that was true or not. But I had other worries at the moment, and no time for chasing legends.

I headed northwest, toward the docks, as quick as I could without running myself ragged. It was only a matter of time until the mob in the inn got over themselves and began chasing me.

I felt like I'd been running for hours when I heard angry, sharp voices behind me. I didn't dare look back, lest I run over something, but I knew what I'd see, anyway: angry faces and hands clenched into fists, or clutching weapons. Maybe they'd even bring a pitchfork or torch, just for me.

As I reached the Mhaaige Forest, I hoped they would stop their pursuit. After all, everyone knows not to chase mages into dark places, especially forests. Who knew what vile things they did there? Not me, certainly. But,if anything, this seemed to encourage them, as they closed the distance between us. I could practically feel their breath on my back.

So, I cheated. I knew I could not outrun or lose them inside the forest,not without using my Gift. Concentrating, I tapped into it, and remembered how full of energy I'd been upon waking up today. Immediately, the memory became reality. My body felt renewed, as if I'd just risen up after a long rest, and I blurred through the trees, leaving my pursuers behind.

I only slowed down three leagues away, at the docks, when my body burned through its renewed reserves. Thanks to my Gift, I was barely breathing hard. Memory magic may not be overtly powerful, but you would be shocked at how much you can do by "remembering" things.

The docks had been built on the island's northwestern shore, on and around a beach situated at the base of a mountain range. This way, invaders and shifty merchants would find it hard to fight their ways past the docks. Meanwhile, the locals could use the mountains as a natural wall and hold out against armies far outnumbering them. The island's other shores consisted of bleak, sharp rocks that most ships would break themselves on.

As I walked the docks, I checked what I had on me. My sealskin boots, my trousers, my green coat... Vhaarn, I'd forgotten my hat at the inn. With my luck, we'd get caught in a storm once we left the island... assuming I even found a ship.

Which seemed increasingly unlikely. As I offered my services to the sailors-don't you need someone to keep records? Manage finances? I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty either-my hopes slowly wilted. The answers were as pleasant as they were varied.

'Shove off, ink-drinker!'

'You think we've space in excess, moron?'

'Aren't you that bastard with the pain-touch? Get him, lads!'

And so I ended up running away. Again. I had to repeat my stamina trick, which left my body screaming at the constant changes between tiredness and restfulness. Still, at least I lost those arseholes too.

Finally, after carefully climbing up out of a barrel I'd jumped in, I laid eyes on a steamship. It was painted in countless garish colours, like a screaming rainbow. On its side were the words "Mharra's Marvels". I hoped this was not a curiosity ship. Those are always crewed by grifters and captained by conmen.

Taking a deep breath of the sharp, salty air, I walked to the steamship. Standing next to it on the shore was a short, stocky man. Walking closer, I saw he was swarthy, with a black mane of hair that reached his shoulders. His clothes were fine and colourful, but closer to a circus master's than a ship captain's.

It was a curiosity ship, wasn't it? Gods...

'Hello,' I greeted the colourful man. 'Are you Mharra, sir?'

'Oh, no,' he said with a dry smile. 'I'm your last option, eh? Nobody comes to me unless they have to.'