Tipping the Scale

Chapter 18: A City of Marvel and Sin

Natural energy, that which has been proven to be the source of all magic, permeates the entire continent of Asmeon. Making it possible for magicians to cast spells anywhere from the time of their birth until death. Yet, it is rare to find a child capable of doing more than the most basic of spells through infancy.

The leading cause for this is the natural inefficiency of magicians. Less than a quarter of the energy they absorb is converted into magic. The rest is left within the body and can become harmful to its internal structures.

This is the reason behind the high mortality of magicians within later childhood and early teen years. The time, when a child grows more willful while unable to regulate their emotions properly.

Under mental duress, these young magicians often reach for higher-level spells and as they draw in more energy than they should need, their body gets ruined. Causing their lives to be snuffed out through this one feat of higher magic.

To prevent these tragedies, King Silvanus the First introduced a decree stating any child of magic is required to be instructed at an officially recognized magic institution from the age of five.

This decision resulted in an immediate lowering of the number of accidents, but the decrease was not found to be as significant as had been expected.

This is due to the fact that the majority of incidents are caused by children who are not even aware of the power they carry within. Those born in the lower classes where magic use is limited and early symptoms are easily missed until it is too late.

It took three centuries, for the topic to be revisited as the Dragon Order of Lynoës developed a test to show a child's affinity before its birth. By obligating this test to be taken by any pregnant woman, these unnecessary deaths could be finally stopped. But there are those who object, especially within the ranks of the nobility. No doubt, they fear that their secret bastards might be discovered this way.

~ The History and People of Magic by Sir Rainaldus Gale

"Hold him down!"

Crystal hissed as Warchief managed to pull away from her syringe. He screamed and pushed his back off the ground, dislodging Lidea who was trying her hardest to keep him pinned.

"I'm trying!"

Lidea spat back as she gritted her teeth and moved to kneel on his waist again. Putting one hand on his shoulder and holding the arm closest to Crystal, she tried to create an opening for the healer to do her work.

The smell of scorching flesh filled the tent, nauseating Lidea in the process as she felt heat sear her hands.

"Hurry!"

She urged, as he was already starting to escape her grip but Crystal didn't need the reminder. In an instant, she plunged the syringe into his arm causing Warchief to explode off his bedroll as he yelled.

This time Lidea didn't fight back and let herself be launched, rolling off to the side where she stayed as she caught her breath.

Warchief flailed around for a while longer and Lidea counted until he finally calmed down and sank away in a motionless sleep.

As expected, the count was higher than last time.

"He is getting worse."

Crystal merely grunted in acknowledgment at her remark as she swept the sweat off her brow before turning Warchief over to expose the bandages along his back.

Lidea looked away, having a hard time stomaching the sight of his blistering flesh and the smell that intensified once the bandages were removed.

Despite Crystal's excellent care, his night terrors occurred too often for the skin to heal properly. Leaving it a mess of fresh wounds and deep scars.