Renzel was exhausted. His Abyssal form had faded only moments after Alverna and the boy were out of sight. Not having the chance to eat made his mana weak, but he'd never been fully depleted. Not even as a child, when all of the other children would pass out from their training regimens. Which were designed just for that. The Order would starve the young apprentices so their mana would suffer and then force them to block bricks with such things as lesser wards and force pushing.
'But last night... Last night I pushed myself way too hard. I can't even produce a healing light for my wounds'
Calpery had taught him one valuable thing his second year.
"When a Mage's mana is fully depleted, the Mage is in danger of death. For the Magi heart pumps on mana, this is the Mana spark. It can last for a short time until mana is restored but only if it's nurtured. When a Mage survives being drained. His spark grows. And he becomes more powerful. The harder it is for the Mage to be drained. The more deadly it is. Thus the more powerful he will become if he survives."
Renzel kept going over that lesson in his mind as he crested over the foot hill and saw Alverna's father's old manor in the distance. Twisting and stirring. Rising above the tree line of the next foothill.
'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right Calprey? Well maybe I'll finally be able to look forward to that. Then when you come for me, maybe I'll kill you.'
The forest began to thicken as Renzel started his final ascension up the last foothill. He saw a glimpse of campfire smoke through the trees. Blood soaked his cloak and he held his stomach slowly keeping pace with the silence around him. The wind blew softly and the Autumn leaves rustled and ran about as he paced. His mind began to wander.
'That boy, was it an illusion? His aura felt just like Teller's... But what were the odds that it would be him? The war of the Magi had ended when I was a boy. Teller was a good man, his Order waged war against the Shadow council and he had blown Gurvon's leg off. Back then Gurvon was just a Battle Mage. Gurvon's mana was depleted and he was unconscious. His duty was defending our village. Teller was a young Battle magi as well. But I watched from the window with my mother when Teller found my father's limb and placed it back on the ground below his severed knee. Then he blasted it with what I now know to be a "Hempress Rothden" The kings healing spell. It was forbidden to use on an enemy but Teller did not care. He saw good in my father that I did not.'
Renzel clutched his gut harder and fell to one knee, all was silent and he perched there in the leaves to catch his breathe. 300 yards from the manner and he might have fainted. Were it not for the fear in him a moment later. In all of his daydreaming and questioning. He'd forgotten to pay attention. For now, the forest guardians saw the opportinity for a meal. Mage blood to feed their appetites.
"Spriggins."
The twisted personified figures made of rooted wood and clumps of grass slowly circles him wisping their eerie lullaby. Renzel steadied himself back on both legs and gripped the hilt of his ivory blade. He would have attempted to scream but the lullaby of the Spriggins would drown it out. There were five of them.
'I will not die here, I just escaped the master Reaver Calprey.'
Renzel reached deep within himself for something, anything to draw strength from. Memories of torment, beatings by the children during his younger years, killing Gurvon. Alverna's smile. She was waiting for him. He couldn't break her heart. She was his friend. Nothing could give him strength.
The Spriggins crept closer, increasing their soft and soul wrenching lullaby.
Renzel's mind flashed through more and more memories. And then he saw her again in his mind's plane. Alverna. And he heard a voice inside himself.
"We do not abandon our friends, we do not die this day."
A fire ignited inside Renzel and as if his soul itself rose to fight. A roaring rush of blue flames burst from his wounds in all directions sending the fire ward hurdling into the Spriggins. Burning all five in shrieking agony to ash where they stood.
'Th-those weren't my wards. Mine are black and white or green like my auras . What was that? Who was that?!'
"We will not speak again, you are dying now. Lay still so your friends can find and save you. They are running this way."
__
"Are you sure it wasn't his ward? No other aura was present in those woods."
Alverna ran her fingers down Renzel's cheek. As the wagon bounced along the cobblestone road before them.
"I know his aura's Teller. He has two. His aura is black and white. His Abyssal Aura where he draws his stronger spells and wards are green. This was something else."
Teller furrowed his brow and sprouted a look of questioning surprise.
"For once. I did not see this."
"You didn't? But you knew he would be at the Manor and everything."
"What I see isn't factual. I see all foreseeable outcomes of an individual within the near future. A day or so. I simply choose the most likely outcome and follow it. I do not know how the Spriggins found him. They search out Mana spark. The raw power in a being that wanders into their forest. In all the scenarios I have witnessed. Renzel's mana was drained. Therefore they shouldn't have been able to detect him."
Teller yelled to the farmer at the reigns from the wagon of wheat they were riding in.
"Thank you for your Hospitality sir! I promise when we get to Ferinion you will be rewarded!"
The man jerked the reigns, making the horses yelp and buck. Forcing the wagon to a stop, he turned to face Teller.
"Ferinion?! The hidden kingdom?! That's a myth sir! I do not take kindly to swindlers! Out of my wagon!"
Teller chuckled and then pulled an old yellowed map from his cloak and climbed into the reigns with the driver. He pointed to an outlined route that led into the Forest of Sorrow.
"If you wish to take us no further than the Cycsteria hold, then I will pay you five gold and a silver. However, should you take us into the Forest of Sorrow and follow this route. I will pay you thirty gold."
The man went white with shock. He considered a moment, then gained a confident posture and a stiff lip under his dirty moustache.
"Half now, or sire you may walk this route."
Teller grinned and fiddled in his pocket for a small leather pouch that he placed in the man's hand.
"You are a bright one sir. May I have your name?"
"Halren sire."
"Well Halren, good on you. We must stop in Cycsteria for a night to gather more ample supplies. Can you favor us a night for that fifteen gold in your palm? Also, I would prefer you address me and my male company as Master Teller and Master Mock."
Halren grinned and his moustache seemed to wiggle with delight and greed.
"Master Teller, for fifteen gold I will call you and your company Ferin and Thanious and company. The true Kings of the North."
Teller laughed and sat back in the wagon. Halren whipped the reigns hard waking the horses out of their grazing and into a rough gallop.
"To Cycsteria!"
Teller turned back toward Alverna and the slumped, clammy body of Master Mock.
"Whatever saved him in those woods, we are indebted too. I will ask the sage's in Ferinion to look him over. He will wake tomorrow morning, we should be cresting into view of the Hold gates by that time. Keep him warm while we ride."
"Can't you help him?"
"I could give him some of my spark to live on.. But this is a very deep drain. It would rob him of his deeper power should he survive, and I am prohibited by my Order to interfere with such self altering affairs."
Alverna winced, "Sometimes, rules should break when lives are in the balance."
Teller smiled kindly, "Perhaps you are correct Miss Alverna. But I do not believe lives hang in the balance this night."