Ruben Frederick - The Forgetful Magus

I - The New Grand Magus

Ruben Frederick took an appreciative glance at the staff in his hand. It was plain. Plain enough that no one took a second look. An olive-green wooden rod resembling more a quarterstaff than the exquisite arcane staffs commonly used by his kind. Ruben had never seen a staff looked more ordinary than his. But that was the brilliance of it: Ordinary, inconspicuous, and raised no questions.

     His life had changed since he found the ancient artefact and learnt to wield its unique ability. Now, he was the Grand Magus, one of the twelve Magi of the Magus Council. It was only his first week at work, and it would be a while until his first wages, but he wanted to celebrate his new position with his wife and son, so he spent half of his coins at the market.

    The new Magus stayed in the poor district of the town, in a wooden shed. But this too would change, Ruben thought, when he saved up enough for a stone house in the central district and leave this dreadful district for good. It was not a good environment for Rudy to grow up in, and too many drunkards could not keep their hands off Camille. This place lacked hopes and starved ambitions.

     The door complained as Ruben pushed it open. No one home. He didn't have to search, the full of his house was within view from the door. Odd, he thought. He had told them they would celebrate today.

     A brown, foreign object on the table caught Ruben's eyes. A parchment, written by an elegant, cursive handwriting, it read:

     To the Great and Dignified Grand Magus,

First! a most hearty congratulations on your new post! 

As celebration, I have, pray forgive me, without your consent, prepared a surprise for Your Magus.

I trust, by now, Your Magus has found your belongings... not right where they ought be.Come, come! to the Black Wells Church before the . Alone, I beg you.

But pray be chaperoned by that most wondrous weapon of yours. 

I urge you to make great haste, for the sake of our friendship! for the well-being of your belongings.

May the blessings of the Ancients be upon you my especial Magus!

     Ruben's heart raced, and he found the room suddenly suffocating. He needed to get to them quick. He dropped the bag of breads and grapes and meat to the floor, grabbed his staff as instructed, and dashed out of the door. Whoever did this knew the secret of his staff, and he — or they — wanted it. And they took Camille and Rudy. But who? He told no one about the staff. Not even to the person he loved.

     Ruben was prepared to exchange any possessions for Camille and Rudy. But there was no guarantee they would hold their end of the bargain. He needed an assurance. He headed opposite of the woods where the church was, and made a hasty trip to the Magus Council. He passed some apprentices practicing first-year spells: fireball, illusion, telekinesis. One of his colleagues, who loved to demonstrate, was demonstrating a Grand Fireball. When the Grand Magus came out of the Council, his staff had taken on a different appearance. A green, wax-like material the shape of the staff formed at its head, elongating the staff.

     Ruben followed the signposts in the woods, east for a monastery, west for Black Wells Church. He eventually reached the Black Wells Church — an abandoned building with broken windows and parts of its walls reclaimed by nature.

     He saw no one on his way here, and none anywhere around the church. The Grand Magus skirted the perimeters to the back of the church and peeped through a window, making sure not to step on the twigs around his feet. A man with short grey hair sat with his back facing Ruben. He wore a sky blue mantle, and held a gnarled oak staff with a yellow orb at its head. Ruben could not see his face but a sorcerer's staff is his identity. Azoe Lorac. The man he defeated in a duel to become the Grand Magus. Ruben could not blame Azoe Lorac for desiring the ancient staff; after all, it did grant even a defective mage like him enough powers to defeat a Magus. A woman and child laid on the floor. An ethereal purple rope wove around their bodies, extended to Azoe, binding them in position. They were unconscious but otherwise appeared unharmed.