Norbert Erion: The Lost Geomancer

Chapter 1 An Evening Adventure

A dark, ominous cloud had hung menacingly over the Erion house since dawn, clinging to it as though determined never to let go. Rain spilled from its heavy folds, streaming down the crooked, leaky roof, drumming against the windows in a complex rhythm.

"Why did it have to pick our house?" Norbert muttered to himself, scowling out the window. Far off over the forest, not a single drop fell from the sky, and on the other side of the house, the sun was even shining on a nearby hill! It was the only proper cloud in the entire sky that he could see that day. "How annoying!" he grumbled, climbing down from his stool to tend to one of the many water-filled pots scattered around the room, capturing drops leaking from the ceiling of their dilapidated roof.

Norbert was home alone today. At only seven years old, he had to know how to take care of himself when his father was at work. His mother, sadly, had passed away three years ago from a disease known as "frostblight"—a rare illness that drains all strength from geomancers. Whenever he thought of his mother, he could almost smell her floral perfume and picture her smooth face. He was certain she still watched over him, keeping him safe, just as his father assured him. That's why he sometimes spoke to her aloud when no one else was around to hear.

Mr. Erion, like his late wife, was also a geomancer and kept his son safe at home with protective spells. He was an honest, brave, and kind man, even though his work wasn't particularly reputable. He belonged to a secretive group of conjurers, collecting magic stones used by geomancers to cast spells, which he would later use or sell. The challenge was that these magic stones belonged to the deceased, and he had to sneak into graves, summon their spirits, and detach them from their magical cores. Why were these stones so important?

The answer was simple, and most geomancers knew it. In ancient times, in Arcana—the world of geomancers hidden deep beneath the human realm—a man named Adular had appeared, driven by an insatiable thirst for power. From a mysterious substance, he forged a powerful scepter capable of controlling and weakening all magic stones worldwide. He intended to subjugate others and become the sole ruler of everything. Before his downfall, he wreaked havoc with the scepter, draining surrounding magic to the point where the scepter's insatiable thirst consumed even Adular himself. With nothing left that could destroy it, a band of heroes entombed it in a massive sarcophagus to prevent it from drawing strength from others ever again. Since then, all remaining stones have been weakened by what geomancers call "Adular's Curse." All, that is, except those buried before Adular's rise, and these were the very stones Alfred Erion summoned.

Today, Norbert was especially impatient. Not only because it had rained all day when he could have been outside, but mainly because he was full of anticipation. His father was going to take him on his very first adventure tonight. Just thinking about it made him tremble with excitement. Maybe they'd encounter Vulcorns—majestic creatures that rarely soar across the skies, with golden fur, fox-like faces, and powerful eagle wings. Or perhaps his father would take him to witness a summoning. That thought sent a shiver through him, as he imagined the restless dead fiercely guarding their treasures.

Just as he walked back to the window, a bright bolt of lightning shot down from the cloud and struck the ground right in front of their house. A deep thunderclap followed, making Norbert jump in surprise. And there, in the spot the lightning had burned, stood his father, as if out of nowhere. Tall and slender, with tousled brown hair and large, prominent ears that Norbert had inherited, he appeared worried, glancing around. The instant he looked up toward the clouds, the rain above their house suddenly stopped. He stepped inside, waved his hand to dry his coat with a spell, and called out, "Hey, Bert, you little rascal, I'm home! So, are you packed and ready?"

"Hi, Dad!" Norbert shouted, rushing to hug him. "Look how much water I collected!" he said, pointing proudly to the full pots.

A smile flickered across Mr. Erion's face. He patted his son on the shoulder and said, "Hmm... well done, son! You bravely defended our home from the downpour! You deserve a medal! It's a good thing the rain's stopped now; otherwise, who'd empty these pots while we're away? By the way, you didn't see anyone around, did you?" His father's tone grew serious at that last question.