The Living Curse

Chapter Nine: A Change of Plans





Now, as they walked the corridors of the Academy, they didn’t bother to shield themselves; everyone was asleep. Max had insisted on seeing the girls back to their room, on the grounds that he needed to ensure Mira’s well-being. Nameh was still trying to get used to his gentleman like report, which was also mixed with an unusual onslaught of sarcastic remarks and playful games.

She pulled the small key out of her belt pocket and shoved it into the lock. As she did, her Shask began to burn, but not the burning of danger. She paused for a moment, trying to sort out her thoughts. To her surprise, the door opened before she even turned the key and flung inward. Standing on the other side of the door was a boy. He had jet black hair that swooped across his forehead just above his dark, slanted eyes. His tan skin contrasted the unnaturally white walls of the room, and she guessed that he was Asian of descent.

“Finally.” He said, exasperated. He was looking beyond Nameh, his eyes resting on Max. “Where have you been?” throwing his hands up and not waiting for an answer, he continued, “Get inside.” Max gave a small sigh and pushed passed her.

“Dude, you have to stop using predictability spells on me. It’s starting to piss me off.” Max responded casually, though he didn’t seem that upset. She and Mira followed them into their room, and both sat on Mira’s bed, because Nameh’s was inhabited. On it lounged yet another unidentified boy, with hair the same length as the other boy’s, but his falling straight down his forehead in a golden-brown color. His eyes were almost as dark as the other boy’s, but his skin was much paler. This boy was lean and muscular like Max, while the first was not either, but seemed softer. The boy with the brown hair turned, unconcerned, toward the girls, and flashed them a smile.

“Hey” he said simply. The girls only looked at him for a moment, still under shock of having strangers in their room. Nameh regained composure first.

“So, you must be the werewolf, then.” She said, testing him. She often asked forward questions to get a completely honest reaction from the person. She wanted to know if he was really as laid back as he was trying to seem.

“Born and raised. So, you must be the mystery Markbearer, then.” He said easily. As he said this, he slightly raised his eyebrows, telling her that he was a little surprised she already knew he was a werewolf, but couldn’t have cared less that she did. He even seemed to be impressed that she had already found this out, and looked on her with some respect. He passed the test. In fact, he passed the test better than anyone she had ever met.

Nameh was a person who drew her conclusions of people quickly, drawing on all of their subtleties. Rarely did she immediately like a person, but this had happened now twice today, once with Max, and once with the werewolf.

“I am.” She responded. “Or was, rather.” She corrected, referring to the fact that her identity had been found. “Nameh”, she said, extending a hand toward him. “What’s your name, werewolf?” She tested him a second time, only to be sure. She wasn’t one who particularly enjoyed games of the emotions, but was one who enjoyed finding more about who people really were without their realization. Again, he flawlessly passed.

“Talar” he said without missing a beat, shaking her hand firmly. Nameh returned the pressure with a tight grasp. Handshakes had always been important to her; she rarely ever liked people with weak handshakes. He silently acknowledged this in a glance.

“So, are you going to introduce yourself?” he questioned playfully to Mira. She let out a small laugh before responding.

“Of course, I’m Mira.” Throughout the character analysis of Talar, Nameh realized that she hadn’t been paying attention to the other two boys, who were still standing in the doorway. They were conferring in hushed tones, and the Asian boy seemed to be frustrated with Max. They had been waiting for his return, and he hadn’t come as soon as he would have liked. Max noticed her looking at them, and led his friend over to the other three. They stood at the foot of the beds, both wearing grim faces. Max stared at the wall with narrow eyes for a moment before speaking.

“There’s been a change of plans.” he began, “We won’t be going to the Vine.” He finished with a sigh, anticipating the repercussions of his words. “It seems as though there’s been another raid, and all of the Markbearers in training have been killed.” He said with some difficulty. By the look on his face, Nameh suspected that he had some friends there, although he hadn’t been extremely attached.

“They’re all dead?” Mira questioned.

“Well, not technically all of them.” Talar responded, indicating himself and the other boy. “Wyd knew they were coming, and so we got the hell out.” He said with a laugh. “We tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t hear it. They are protected by some pretty heavy magic, but not magic that the Guild hasn’t seen before.” He said, now taking on a more solemn tone.

“So it was the Guild…” Mira mused. Nameh thought, immediately, of Daniel. Had he been there? As much as she wanted to believe that he would never kill innocent, untrained Markbearer children, she couldn’t. She had to believe that she didn’t know him anymore, that there wasn’t a chance that he would join the right side and swear off dark magic forever. It was a part of him now; she knew that, she just had trouble accepting it.

“But there are other training Academies all over the world, right? Just like the Guardians have?” Nameh questioned.

“There isn’t time,” said the Asian boy softly. He seemed uncomfortable and shy.

“Wyd, there’s got to be time!” shouted Max, not upset with the boy, but with the prospect he proposed.

“Look, Max, all I know is that the Guild is already closer than we are to finding the amulet. You told them about it, right?” he questioned.

“Yeah.” He replied absently.

“I brought this.” He said weakly, pulling a large, leather bound book from inside his thick jacket. The jacket was made a white material that resembled suede, but looked much tougher. She had never seen such a cloth. Max seemed very pleased at what his friend had brought, and thumbed through the pages briefly. Catching her questioning look, he responded.

“It’s a Markbearer book, one of the original that the Great Warlock gave to his followers.” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Actually, this one’s so old; I don’t think it’s even taught anymore. Few people can understand magic this ancient. Fortunately, we have a warlock with us.” He grinned.

“So, basically what you’re telling us is that we’re going to have to learn the great magical arts from a couple of first year students and a book that you can’t really read?” she paused, reading his face. She found only excitement there, and little fear. “Awesome.” She finished sarcastically. Mira tried to hold back a laugh at the comment, but didn’t entirely succeed.

“We may as well get started,” said Talar passively. He pulled himself up onto his elbows to survey the book, and then reached forward to take it. He laid it down on the bed before him, and gingerly opened the black cover. He read leading with his finger, as a child just learning to read. He scanned a few lines silently and then conveyed the information.

“Damn, this is going to be harder than I’d hoped. I can read it, but it’s not going to be perfect. It says here that this is actually the first magic book written by the Warlock, and contains everywhere from very easy to very difficult spells.” He said. Max interrupted with a thought that seemed to have been simmering in his mind for quite some time.

“Wyd, you were born a warlock, you have more magical blood in you than any of us here. You should be able to do all the spells in that book, right?” His friend only nodded cautiously. “Then, can’t you at least use a spell that will allow us to understand it?” he asked.

“It’s not that simple, most of my magic isn’t effective on Markbearers.” He said, and then added as an afterthought, “You knew that.”

“Of course I knew that, I just didn’t know if there was a spell that would help, that could also be used on us.” He said defensively.

“Wait,” Mira said questioningly, “Wyd isn’t a Markbearer?”

“No.” said Max incredulously, “Warlocks don’t bear marks; they don’t need them. The mark you have just gives you the same potential that he has. Or that’s what they tell you at the Vine, but there’s no substitute for a born Warlock. We just provide the muscle behind the magic.”

“Guys,” interrupted Talar, “Check this out.” He was pointing to a parchment page in the book. On it was a black ink illustration of a Shask: The perfect black swirl, representing magic. Above and to the right of the swirl, there were three dots, representing defensive magic. Below and to the left of the swirl, there were three triangles pointing outward, representing offensive magic.

Under the illustration, there were words in a text that was foreign to Nameh, and by the look on her face, Mira as well. Apparently, throughout their short training at the Vine, Talar and Wyd had learned to read these ancient scripts. Talar continued to translate aloud.

“It’s sort of a list…” he began, “It says everything that the Shask can do. Offense, defense, strength, courage, silence, fearlessness, transparency,” he read.

“There are legends that tell of Markbearers of ancient times who were once able to do much more than we can today. They could have wings like half-harpies when they so chose or they could have gills like mer-people. We lost the magic a long time ago.” He finished in a voice that sounded unmistakably forlorn. Nameh stared at the page, lost in thought of those long dead and their ways of life. They continued to pour over the pages, learning the basic magic that made up the Great Mark, and simple things they could do with them. She had already figured out how to make a shield on her own, but she learned how to shield bigger things, and to make her footsteps silent. She also learned how to draw all of her strength into one part of her body, such as one of her arms, if she were sword fighting, or throwing a punch.

Suddenly, Wyd, who had looked rapt with thought, shot up out of the chair where he had been sitting. “I’ve got it!” he said excitedly. He took the book from the hands of Talar and set it on the ground at his feet. He closed his eyes and began to mutter a few words. The book shuddered and swelled before breaking apart into two pieces, each exactly the same. Two identical black books now lay on the ground before the warlock. He soaked in the impressed looks before continuing.

“And now, for my next trick,” he began with a nervous arrogance, “I have found a spell that will let the two of you understand the book.” He finished proudly.

“See, it wasn’t a stupid question,” muttered Max childishly. Wyd, ignoring him, placed a hand on her and Mira’s shoulders and repeated words in the same fashion as the book spell. Nameh felt her mark burn for a split second, but nothing else. She wondered if the spell had done anything. Wyd seemed to be satisfied, though, because he picked up the books and handed one to each girl. Nameh opened the cover of the book to the first page, the one with the illustration of the Shask. This time, the page appeared entirely different. She could see each symbol and its meaning clearly, though the words did not appear as English. It wasn’t as though she could now read it as she could any book she picked up, but rather, she could understand each page’s meaning as a whole, not as individual characters.

“Sweet” she said simply. “Nice work, warlock.” The boy nearly blushed, he was even shier around new acquaintances than she had originally thought. Eventually, he would lighten up, she hoped. “Alright,” she said, turning to Mira, “I believe we have some cramming to do.”