The Eight Pillars of Magic (The 8... of Magic Series 1)

A Questyon of Payment

The servant let him into the spacious conference room. His staff and stilett had previously been taken from him. The stranger also had to hand over his wide black cloak with the reinforced leather hood. At the work table, the governor sat absorbed in his papers. Without his cloak, the hedge mage felt kind of naked, but sacrifices always had to be made. He had provoked this audience with the Governor when he first told a few guards the story of the Terrorifier of Kvotheshravrah and then gave them a taste of the truth in that tale.
"Say what is your name Stranger?" said the governor, without looking up from his papyrus. The stranger strutted slowly across the room and began to speak, but seemed to put every word on the gold scale. "My Name, well well. I've worn a lot of names and changed them like an old pair of shoes. There is a name for every matter, because not everyone is good for every work. And that can applied here too, that's why you Sire shall call me Galdraföðr von Tos. I hope you like this name, if not I have others who are also suitable for this meeting. "With the final sentence, the stranger, who now called himself Galdraföðr von Tos, looked at the governor with his icy blue eyes. His gaze practically forced the Man of Office to look at him and he returned the look, albeit hesitantly. There was something cold and probably something unusual in Galdraföðr's eyes. It made the Governor feel uncomfortable and made him change his sitting position. "The name is permitted, even if I'm sure it isn't your real one. But I am aware of the magical power of the True Name and I want to leave it at that. I am Jarl Styr, son of Styrkar. Before I come to your required service, I want to know what you have done with my knights. "

The hedge magician Galdraföðr was dressed in simple trousers and boots, combined with a beige tunic that had wide sleeves. The tunic came down to his knees and almost to his worn hiking boots. The stranger wore an all-purpose belt over his simple robe, around the hip area, and numerous bags were strapped to the belt. There was most likely gold, silver and medicine in the bags, thought Jarl Styr as he looked at the Stranger. Without being asked, the Mysterious Wanderer took a seat on one of the leather armchairs before answering: "Don't worry, in a few days they will be fine. I let them gaze a  bit into my dreams. That is all and if you allow me to go to them, I can reverse the process even faster and they will not suffer irreparable damage." Jarl Styr was visibly pleased with this answer. The Stranger took out an old pipe that had broken once through in the middle because it was carefully tied with linen there. He rummaged in one of the bags and a type of blue herbs of unknown origin came to light. He scattered some of it into the chamber of the pipe and snapped his fingers. As if by magic, the tobacco ignited and the stranger took a few relaxing puffs, without letting the Jarl out of his cold blue eyes.

"Well, that's not why you're here, is it," said Jarl Styr astutely.

"True. I knew your father Jarl Styrkar well and he helped me a lot once. In return, I had to promise to do a service. Now I am here to do what Styrkar asked me to do 130 years ago. The archmage is sick, it's no secret and many have turned up to help her just to make it worse."

"Why are you thinking that only you could help Archmage Aulricmara Rinunvum of Ruvia. In addition, I'm curious what exactly is a hedge-mage's area of responsibility. "

Galdraföðr put his left foot on his right knee, gently scratched his short goatee, and took another puff from his pipe.

In this position he finally gave his answer: "We are traveling Apothecaries who sometimes use traditional healing methods, magic spells and the like to heal the sick or to help those in need. Some of us were traditionally trained at the academy, who deviated from this path and others dropped out the academy before graduation to practice hedge-magic. Our guide is only fate. We are pretty poor people and occasionally sleep in hedges and mostly travel alone. It's a lonely path, and it's rarely paid well, but the payment isn't in the coins, you know. That is what sets us apart from the licensed wizards. The magic that is taught in the academies and schools is dead. Living magic is not found in a book, but in experience. Myself and my colleagues are what we are, for we are needed among the common people who cannot afford a licensed wizard. Nobles rarely use our services, or when they do, they do so in secret. But we are a few and fewer with every century. Occasionally we kill monsters or protect exactly those creatures from poachers."

Jarl Styr had listened attentively and now replied: "That makes sense to me, but what is the stilett for. I think a decent iron or silver sword is better suited for combat. Not that I want to dictate your calling for you. I also heard rumors that you were all white-haired, with golden eyes and two swords on your back."

The stranger gave a short laugh, it sounded like a row of icicles crashing into metal, which quite frankly non-visibly scared the Governor a bit. But in complete sternness, Galdraföðr announced. "No no. First and foremost, we are tools of fate. There is no order of hedge mages, sometimes someone teaches his knowledge to another gifted mage, but everyone is left to his own devices. And as for the stilett, it's just a tool I've used because, to my sorrow, not every patient can be saved. In these cases only Last Mercy helps. "

"The Last Mercy?"

"Yes. It's an old ritual, you probably know it by a different name. It's less of a ritual, more of a gesture of courtesy. The stilett is there to end a dying person's suffering. One precise quick stab in the throat and it's all over. It was once used to prevent a badly injured soldier from disclosing information to the enemy. But I'm not that cold-hearted and I don't serve any kings, armies or countries. Not regularly."

"Sorry to ask, but have you already taken life differently?"

"Yes." replied the hedge mage bitterly and Jarl Styr realized that he shouldn't have asked that question. To defuse a bit the tension, he revealed.

"I too have taken the lives of people whom I did not have jurisdiction to take them.