| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by Joshua Abbott / Artwork by Lee Kuruganti |
| The Cost of Magic |
Cirrus shook the last drop of mana from his goblet into the fountain. He gazed over the edge expecting
to see his reflection looking back through the precious fluid. Instead he saw a sad puddle of mana barely
capable of casting the faintest silhouette.
With a sigh, Cirrus placed the goblet in his bag and turned away. He pushed open the temple door and
thought about what to tell his wife. It almost felt easier to consider starting a new life elsewhere, but
something deep inside held him back. Too many roots and too much history in this old city.
The desert breeze whipped through his hair and baked his forehead when he stepped outside. A cooling
or protection spell would wash the harsh elements away, but he sighed and stopped himself. Even simple
spells burned through the town’s mana reserves and there wasn’t enough left to last a week.
“Cirrus, can I talk to you for a moment?” The apprentice wizard Sam stood against the temple shaded
from the beating sun. Shrouded from head to toe in loose purple robes, he looked like a tent with a face
poking through the side.
“I’m in a hurry. What is it?” Cirrus fixed his attention on the buildings ahead and quickened his stride
towards his home to the south.
“You just saw the fountain didn’t you?” Syllables mashed together as the words streamed out of Sam’s
mouth. He shuffled his feet, kicking up a chest-high cloud of dust. “Every time a person casts a spell that
fountain drains a little more, and there isn’t enough to spare. Magic is the only thing we have protecting
us from invasion. If we lose that…I…I…”
“Interesting how the air feels cold when I’m next to you,” Cirrus shot the young wizard a glance. “If you
didn’t waste our magic by casting cooling spells every time you break a sweat we probably wouldn’t be in
danger.”
“I can’t just abandon my way of life. I’ve never lived a day without magic. None of us have. Think of the
rest of the citizens. Oh by the Gods. If the people find out they can’t use magic then there could be a
riot. We’ll have to call on outside cities for assistance. And…and my livelihood as…”
“That’s enough, Sam. The elder is sending me to Eronia tomorrow to discuss a trade. If all goes well, we
might get a fresh supply of mana. If not, we’ll just have to find a new way to sustain the town.”
“You can’t trust the Eronians.” Sam’s face beamed red and he jutted his chin forward. “They probably
just want our magic to themselves. I mean, I’ve never known an Eronian myself, but I’ve heard things.
How far is Eronia anyway?”
Cirrus stopped and lowered his head. He turned to Sam and offered a quick sympathetic grin. He patted
him on the shoulder. “Go home and relax for the night. Everything will work out. I’ll see you later.”
“But Cirrus…”
“Gotta go, Sam.” Cirrus waved and hastened his pace until he couldn’t sense anybody behind him. He
passed through the town square and arrived at his house shortly after. The elder stood outside his own
home down the road engaging a stranger in a lively discussion. Cirrus felt a twinge in his throat as he
watched the conversation unfold. The stranger stood slumped with his shoulders arched and his skin
bore cactus colored scales.
With one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other at his side Cirrus watched until the elder burst into
hearty laughter. Cirrus sighed and opened the door to his home. He slipped in watching the conversation
out of the corner of his eye, hoping nobody had noticed his edgy behavior.
“Are you okay?”
Cirrus turned around. The tension drifted from his muscles at the site of his wife Anna sitting in front of
him. “I’m fine.”
“You look a little flushed. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing you don’t already know about. The fountain is almost completely dried up.”
“Still no luck finding a mana source? I can’t imagine what will happen if we can’t use magic.”
It was the same thing Cirrus had heard all day. He collapsed on the chair next to his wife and looked
towards the ceiling. “I’ve been everywhere, but none of our land is producing mana anymore. I’ve even
left Oornan territory and still nothing. This wouldn’t be so bad if we’d learned to live without magic before
now, but if it all hits us at once I don’t know how the people are going to react. Or survive.”
“So we’re not going to have anything? The desert will be a harsh place without rain chants and cooling
spells.”
Cirrus sighed. “Yes, but that’s only because those are the things we’ve come to rely on. Magic is nothing
but a crutch. Every other culture has been forced to develop technology and evolve in some way. They
intermingle and explore. We’re a stagnant pond surrounded by rushing rivers.”
“I know how you feel, but you’re expecting an entire town to change.”
“I’m not expecting anything. I just think it’s ridiculous I’m the only person in town besides the elder who’
s ever lifted a sword or hunted his own food. Everyone else is content with snapping their fingers.”
“I know.” The fading glow in Anna’s face told Cirrus he’d pushed his opinion too far.
Anna pulled his arm towards her. The warmth of her body did little to ease his mind but he pretended to
smile. He scooted in closer and draped his arm around her shoulders. “Eronia isn’t too far. I probably
won’t be gone more than a few days.”
“Do you really think they can help us with mana?”
“No. It’s all a waste of time. There’s nothing to suggest their land will produce mana any better than our
own. And there’s no logical reason they’d even allow us to try.”
Cirrus’s mind raced through the motions of his journey. Cold nights huddled in a tent with no luxuries
except dried fruit and a change of socks. Though he sat close enough to hear her heart beat it felt like
Anna was miles away. Cherishing the fleeting moments never came easily and the presence of the
stranger outside only made things worse.
Cirrus stood up and went back to the door. He peeked out the window at the elder who smiled and
laughed as if he’d known the stranger half his life.
“If it’s such a waste then why do you have to go?” Anna asked.
“Because it’s my responsibility. Nobody has been as loyal to the elder as I have.”
“You’re still holding out hope he will choose you as his successor.”
Cirrus stiffened his body and lowered his eyes. He started to wish he hadn’t returned home.
“You don’t have to go. I can see how unhappy you are being in this town. I’ve seen the life leaving your
eyes by the day.”
“That’s not true.” Cirrus swerved around and pounded the wall with his fist. Anna clutched the arms of
her chair and looked back with big, frightened eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Cirrus said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I have roots here too, you know. But I’m sure there are places out there even nicer than Oorna.”
“All that surrounds us is desert, Anna. Miles and miles of desert.”
“There’s more. I’ve dreamed of more.”
“Dreamed?” Cirrus folded his arms and leaned against the door.
“Yes, and I’m tired of you looking at me like I’m crazy.”
Cirrus sighed and softened his expression. “So tell me about your dream.”
“I’ve seen a place with tall green trees and endless fields of flowers. I see it more and more when I sleep
and sometimes when I’m awake. It’s like nowhere I’ve heard of or imagined. Sometimes I wonder if that’s
where we’re supposed to go.”
“It’s a dream. Nothing more. I’m not going to wander into the desert chasing an illusion.”
“You don’t understand how vivid it is. I can really visualize it in my mind. Almost well enough to…to
teleport there.”
Cirrus threw down his arms. “Are you crazy? Do you know what happens when you try to teleport to a
place that doesn’t exist?”
“I know. You die.”
“That’s right. You die. And if you try to disappear into a fantasy world, you’re definitely going to die.”
“I wasn’t suggesting it. I just thought…”
“You thought nothing. You weren’t thinking at all.” Cirrus felt the walls closing in on him. Leaving on foot
was out of the question and trying to leave with magic would be suicide. He felt his heart pounding
against his ribcage and he closed his eyes. “I’m going to go speak with the elder. I’ll be back.”
Cirrus opened the door and stepped outside. He paused, but Anna made no attempt to stop him. He
shut the door tightly and caught the elder’s glance. The old man greeted him with a smile and waved him
over.
“Ah, Cirrus.” The elder’s face beamed so vibrantly that his whiskers almost danced. “I want you to meet
Jonas. He’s the diplomat from Eronia.”
Cirrus walked over stiffly. He nodded and offered a handshake. The man reeked of sour ale and he wore
gaudy orange robes that burned the retinas. He examined Cirrus’s hand as if studying its reason for
being. Cirrus cleared his throat and withdrew his arm. “I guess handshakes are not customary in your
culture. I apologize for the confusion.”
“Not at all. I’d have obliged if I’d only known.” Jonas spoke in a wispy voice and barely opened his mouth
when he talked.
“When did you arrive? We didn’t expect the Eronian diplomat until tomorrow.”
“As you said, our cultures must have very different issues of etiquette. It would be impolite for me to
arrive any less than one day early. When my superiors caught wind of the trouble you’ve had with
your…what do you call it? A mana fountain?”
“Yes,” Cirrus said. He folded his arms and looked the man up and down. No detectable insincerity.
“When they heard of the trouble they sent me here to escort a representative back to our land. We
would be happy to allow you to extract whatever energy you need from the lands surrounding our
humble empire.”
“That’s very generous of you.” Cirrus looked to the elder and then back at Jonas. The man’s voice grated
the senses like a screaming cat. “What might you be asking in return?”
“A taste of your magic.” Jonas smiled. “Our technologies are simple and we fear the larger empires will
swallow us up. If we had even a fragment of your power…”
“Impossible,” Cirrus said. “Only those of Oornan descent are capable of…”
“Cirrus, may I have a word with you?” The elder placed his hand on Cirrus’s shoulder and guided him
around the side of the house. Cirrus lowered his head, wondering if he’d violated a law of Eronian
etiquette. “Listen to me, Cirrus.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“I’ve already spoken to this man at great length. He doesn’t know those without Oornan blood are
incapable of using magic.”
“Clearly. I was just trying to inform him otherwise.”
The elder shook his head. “No, you mustn’t. He’s under the impression that with a few weeks around
mana his people can learn how to use the power we have.”
“So you want me to feed that illusion?”
“Trade him this mana extractor.” The elder placed a small green stone in Cirrus’s hand. Cirrus had one of
his own and knew exactly how to work the device. “Gather all the mana you can while they try to learn
how to use magic. Our way of life depends on this trade.”
Cirrus looked at the extractor in his hand. He’d never been instructed to lie before. He placed it in the
satchel on his belt and nodded. “Okay.”
“You have been exceedingly loyal to me, Cirrus.”
“Of course.”
“I know your dreams for Oorna are not always the same as my own. And perhaps you are right. If we
get through this, it would be my honor to name you as my successor.”
Cirrus cleared his throat and nodded. “Thank you Elder.”
With his arm around Cirrus the elder plastered a smile on his face and walked back to Jonas. “I hadn’t
discussed our trade agreement with my representative here so I needed to sort it out. All is settled.”
Jonas smiled. “I understand. I’m glad there were no complications. Shall we head back to Eronia?”
“You want to go now?” Cirrus had no food, tent, or bedding. His legs were not prepared to go on a two
day journey and he knew his wife would be disappointed if he didn’t come home that evening.
“Yes,” Jonas said. “I would like to see one of your teleportation spells. Is there a spell that can take us
right to my home? Or perhaps to our great chief. That would surely convince him of the value of your
gift.”
The thought appalled Cirrus and he began to shake his head. “Teleportation spells are far too costly and
dangerous. You need to have a precise image of your destination.”
“He knows his homeland well enough,” the elder said. “Besides, a teleportation spell to Eronia won’t drain
our mana reserves entirely. The faster we can accomplish this trade, the better.”
Cirrus felt his limbs go numb as he stared back at the elder, wishing he had misheard. He could smell
Jonas and feel his dewy breath clinging to his neck. “If that’s your decision then I have no choice.”
“That’s my decision.”
“It is the first time in years we’ve had a guest,” Jonas smiled. “There will be a grand feast and a clean
room for you to stay in.”
“Let me go tell my wife I’ll be heading out a day early,” Cirrus said.
The elder shook his head. “I’ll tell her myself. Enjoy your trip to Eronia. It was a pleasure to meet you
Jonas.”
“I would like to say goodbye to Anna myself. Surely you understand.”
“It is unlike you to question me, Cirrus.”
“You’re right. I apologize.” Cirrus cleared his throat and attempted to focus his energy on the spell
rather than his hands around the elder’s neck. He visualized the mana fountain and centered his
thoughts on the precious magic fuel. Despite his every inclination, he touched Jonas’s forehead with his
palm. “Okay. You need to think of where you want to go. I can direct us there.”
Jonas closed his eyes and Oorna disappeared in a flash. Cirrus’s knees buckled as the ground
underneath him shifted and the hot desert air was sucked away into the surrounding abyss. Cool air
caressed his skin and the ground returned under his feet, this time covered with grass. The hair on his
neck stood up when he inhaled. The atmosphere rushed into his senses, flooding his nose with its fresh
green scent.
“That was amazing,” Jonas said. “To think we will be able to perform such spells with a bit of your help.
We should see the great chief right away.”
Cirrus allowed his eyes to wander over the scenery. Though there were no people immediately in sight he
could feel life all around him. He reached out with his hand and touched the first building he saw. The
velvety moss on the bricks tickled his fingers. “I always heard Eronia was dusty and dry like Oorna. I
never expected this.”
A smile overcame Cirrus’ face and he could feel his eyes start to water. He swallowed and cleared his
throat. “Can I get a sample of the mana here?”
Jonas looked around, his own smile fading. “We need to see the great chief. He lives in this building.”
“It won’t take long.” Cirrus picked the mana extractor and goblet from his satchel and placed both gently
against a cool blue brick. He took a deep breath. Crystal clear mana poured from the wall into the goblet.
“I’ve never seen anything so rich in mana.”
“Shouldn’t that cup be full by now?” Jonas leaned over Cirrus and breathed on his shoulder. Cirrus didn’t
care. He hadn’t felt so enthusiastic about mana since he was a child first learning the craft.
“It’s a magical goblet. They never fill up entirely,” Cirrus smiled.
“Okay, we better go.” Jonas lowered his head and darted his eyes around as if the two were committing
vandalism. Cirrus removed the extraction stone and goblet from the wall, placing them carefully back into
the protective satchel.
Instead of a door, a violet sheet hung over the entrance to the great chief’s house. Jonas lifted the
sheet and pointed Cirrus into the building. “Our chief is right this way. Remember to bow when you see
him.”
Unlike the outdoors, the inside of the chief’s house was hot and musty. Torches and candles gave the
atmosphere a distinctly orange glow against an otherwise dark interior. It smelled like lingering meat from
a previous day’s meal and the floor was cluttered with pillows and blankets strewn about in no obvious
order.
A man with a long red beard entered the room as if sensing Cirrus’s arrival. From his simple white clothes
and malnourished body, it was hard to imagine this man as Eronia’s great chieftain, but Cirrus bowed his
head anyway.
“It is a pleasure to see you arrived safely,” the old man said. “I am Chief Turu. I trust Jonas has treated
you well.”
“Yes,” Cirrus said. He raised his eyes and began to lift his head. “Eronia is a beautiful town. I regret living
my entire life in Oorna when there are places like this so close by.”
“Keep your head down,” Jonas said. The force behind his voice confused Cirrus, but he didn’t feel
threatened until a thin strip of cold iron kissed the back of his neck. “Don’t try to move.”
“What the hell is going on?” Cirrus held his position and darted his eyes back and forth.
“Calm down. We have no intention of harming you,” Turu said. He slithered closer; his hands clasped
behind his back. “The mission was successful then, Jonas?”
“This one didn’t even question it.” the blade jittered uncomfortably in Jonas’s hand as he spoke. Cirrus
lowered his head further. “Our men are in place and the women and children are encamped outside the
city. They don’t have the magic to stop us.”
“I don’t know what you’re planning, but even the slightest amount of magic could vaporize a thousand
men,” Cirrus said, despite knowledge to the contrary.
Turu sighed. “Perhaps that would be true if this was indeed Eronia, but it’s not. This is Gannus. Halfway
across the continent from Oorna.”
Nobody had to tell Cirrus what this meant. His teleportation spell likely drained the mana reserves to the
last drop. He couldn’t bear to look at Chief Turu. “Why are you doing this?”
“The decision did not come easily,” Turu said. “Our land has been coveted by the larger empires to the
point our destruction was imminent if we didn’t act. We needed the powers your people had. I don’t
expect you to ever understand or forgive us, but it was either you or us.”
“You don’t even know us, but you would destroy our entire civilization to preserve your own?”
“Your elder approached us with a deal. He even used his teleportation magic to aid our journey. I’m not
proud of what I’ve done, but it was necessary.” Turu turned away, the tension swirling around his
muscles. “If you drop your magical instruments I will allow you to walk away. But I advise you not to
return to Oorna. The elder will kill you if he sees you alive.”
“Don’t even ask such a thing. You think I’d walk away while my wife—oh no. No, I’ll kill you first.”
Turu furrowed his eyebrows and swallowed. “It’s unfortunate, but I understand your position. Do it,
Jonas.”
The blade lifted slowly from the back of Cirrus’s neck. His eyes dilated as he heard Jonas suck in a breath
of air. He imagined the blade rising over his head and his limbs went numb. No pleasant visions of his
past or profound waves of regret. With the air rushing over the sword as it descended, he remembered
just one thing. The mana in his satchel.
Cirrus blinked his eyes and extended his hands. A raging gale burst forth from his body, swirling around
him like a tornado. Every loose object strewn across the floors took to the air and tossed like rags in the
wind. Turu ducked into the corner and covered his head. He yelped and pleaded but the rushing wind
drowned out his cries.
Jonas lost his balance and fell to his knees. His arms rattled like the wind beaten windows and his palm
went limp, freeing his sword among the rest of the debris. Cirrus towered over the fallen man, casting
him in shadow as he stepped closer to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “I did this to save my people. I’m
not a monster.”
Cirrus searched his heart for mercy and found only contempt. He threw his arm forward casting a
plethora of spines forth from his hand. They shot through the air and embedded themselves in Jonas’
forehead. His arms stopped jittering and his body leaned against the wall with a fearful frown frozen
upon his face.
Cirrus spun around and marched to the corner of the room where Turu sat looking up at him. His eyes
exhibited calm and he made no effort to move out of the way.
“I am ashamed I took part in this violence, and my failure is deserved,” he said. “But before this is over,
consider whether you would have done the same.”
With no intention of responding or analyzing the words, Cirrus drew his arm back. He wondered if he
could possibly conjure up a fitting punishment for the man who had orchestrated the destruction of his
home.
His focus escaped him when he looked next to Turu and saw a small bowl resting beside his leg. Cirrus
picked the bowl up and sniffed the green residue inside. A piney smell burned his nostrils. “You poisoned
yourself.”
“Minutes before you arrived,” Turu said. “To save my people is a worthy sacrifice, but I couldn’t live with
destroying yours. It took longer than I thought it would but I can feel myself fading. As you will no doubt
return to Oorna I can only surmise the Gods desired that I witness my own failure.”
Turu’s eyes closed peacefully and he died without a whimper. It was more dignity than the man deserved
and the fire inside Cirrus’s chest remained burning without an outlet. The only way to stop the burn
would be to find the elder himself. Though he didn’t have enough mana to travel back to Oorna, Cirrus
did have the means to acquire it. He stepped outside the elder’s house and worked on filling his mana
goblet as quickly as he could.
The emptiness of the village soured Cirrus as he worked. As he went from home to home draining each
property of its mana it soon became clear that every living person in Gannus had been evacuated. He
hated himself for his lack of observation. The goblet became so full Cirrus could feel magic rushing
through his veins even when he stood still.
More magic. More power. Complete justice. The elder would fall and the people of Gannus would be
nothing more than an unwritten historical memo. Cirrus had withdrawn enough mana to pass between
Oorna and Gannus twelve times over and it was finally time to return. He felt powerful enough to lift the
city out of the ground and dump the intruders out.
With a deep sigh he looked to the heavens and prepared to travel back to Oorna. The sun had already
drifted beyond the mountains leaving a purple sky lit by stars. He closed his eyes and focused his
thoughts on the road in front of the elder’s house.
Like the scrambled pieces of a puzzle, Oorna only faintly resembled the home Cirrus knew. Masked in
black haze and highlighted by the orange of distant flames, the air was hot and heavy. Clasping his
mouth with one hand, Cirrus coughed and choked, barely able to breathe. Though the smoke blackened
his vision beyond the nearest few homes, he could see that they had been gutted and burned to shells.
“Anna,” Cirrus waved the smoke away with both of his hands as he ducked towards his house. The door
reduced to splinters he tossed the pieces aside and looked among the wreckage for his wife. “Anna, are
you here?”
Smeared bloodstains spotted the floor and Cirrus’s heart sank. Though his mind raced for an innocent
explanation he knew deep down that the blood was probably hers. Tossing aside every piece of furniture,
he sifted through the tattered remains of his home. Dead or alive, she wasn’t there. “Anna, can you hear
me? Damn it, where are you?”
Cirrus left his house, dizzy from foul air. He pushed forward with his palm and blew the smoke away with
a gust of magic. The spell cleared the air but the town still lay hidden in a sea of darkness. Drops of
blood led from the house, but a dozen unrelated splotches of red masked any discernable trail.
“Elder, where are you?” Cirrus clenched his fists and called to the sky. “If you have even a drop of mana I
know you can hear me.”
The words echoed vainly down the vacant roads. Cirrus ran down the street towards the town square.
Dead bodies littered the path and he had to watch his step to keep from tripping on them. Screams of
panic rushed down the streets while smoky silhouettes wielded swords beyond the next row of houses.
“Hey.” Cirrus waved his arms, itching to cast a violent spell on the mobs. His words drowned out by the
roar of the flames and the screams of the dying, he ran towards the combat zone preparing to cast the
perfect spell.
As he stepped close enough, Cirrus extended his arms and summoned a wave of flame that tore
through the road with explosive force. The fire blackened the mobs’ bodies before they could hit the
ground.
Cirrus breathed through his mouth to avoid the scent of cooking flesh. His chest grew sore and a
profound wave of regret passed over him. The men killed were not all part of the mob. Some of them
were unarmed victims and likely citizens of Oorna. Cirrus swallowed and focused on the elder.
“Cirrus? Cirrus, by the Gods,” a man’s voice spoke from behind a building. The fire hadn’t forked into the
alleyways.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Sam. You…you can use magic?”
“What’s going on here?” Cirrus rounded the corner and saw Sam sitting against a wall dirty and
bloodied. He didn’t look like he had the strength to stand. “Where’s the elder?”
“They attacked a little while after I saw you.” Sam coughed and struggled to breathe. “They carried
swords and without magic we couldn’t fight them. Most just ran or pleaded for mercy.”
“You didn’t even attempt to beat them back?”
“We couldn’t do anything. We’re helpless without magic. Please, Cirrus. Cast a healing spell on me.”
Sam could barely muster the words. His eyelids drooped and the focus left his pupils. Cirrus crouched in
front of him. “Where’s Anna? Did you see where they took her?”
“They took the survivors to the temple. I don’t know if she made it.”
“What do you mean she didn’t make it? You have to talk to me.”
“I…I can’t stay awake, Cirrus. I’m fading. Please. A healing spell.”
“I need to preserve my magic. If Anna is still alive…,” Cirrus lowered his eyes. There was no justification
for his choice. Even if Anna did need a healing spell to save her life, the true motivation was the elder.
Every time Cirrus closed his eyes he saw the face of the man who destroyed everything he knew. The
purest betrayal Oorna had ever known. The elder deserved the worst fate imaginable.
Sam gasped and by the time Cirrus looked back up, he was dead. Cirrus checked the pulse to be sure. A
healing spell no longer seemed so costly. Pain shot up his windpipe and left a hole burning inside his
ribcage.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” He died so fast a healing spell may not have been enough anyway. The thought
cleansed Cirrus’s chest and he found the strength to stand up. By the time he looked down the road
towards the temple, he convinced himself no amount of healing could have saved Sam’s life.
Bodies decorated the road to the temple. Grateful the charred air overpowered the smell of flesh, Cirrus
set his sights on the destination. The remaining masses from Gannus gathered in front of the gates
next to a makeshift cage filled with children. The elder stood on top of the temple steps shouting out
orders with the ferocity of a God.
Hidden behind a wagon, Cirrus watched and listened, straining to hear past the amplified sound of his
own pulse.
“Do it or the deal is off,” the elder said. He addressed men carrying torches and swords; each one a
citizen of Gannus. “We’ve come so close. Burn them and the violence will be all over. We can return to
your village where I will protect you.”
“We came here to fight men, not to execute children.” A voice bellowed through the crowd.
“It’s already done. Dozens of women and children are dead but you will not finish the last few? If we don’
t kill them then the desert will.”
“Stop,” Cirrus stood up from behind the wagon. His plea echoed through the desert and he found every
living face pointed towards him.
“Cirrus,” the elder swallowed. “You returned?”
“Where is my wife? Where is Anna?”
The elder’s eyes drifted towards a nearby spot of ground. Cirrus followed his gaze and saw Anna lying
among other men and women. Her lifeless body tossed upon a pile of faceless dead.
After the first glimpse of her face, tears clouded Cirrus’s eyes. Ignoring the armed men surrounding him,
he rushed to her body. He knelt beside her and lifted her gently in his arms. “Anna, I’m so sorry I left. If
I could take it all back I would go anywhere with you. I love you. I’ll always love you.”
“We tried to save her.” A man stepped forward with his head hung low. “He wouldn’t let us. He killed her.”
The words blew by Cirrus like a pinch of fine sand. With Anna in his arms, danger, revenge and the
logistics of existence drifted away. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ve shamed you. I won’t do it again. I
promise I won’t do it again.”
Tears streamed down Cirrus’s face as he put Anna back on the ground. He stood up and met the elder’s
eyes. He knew he should be angry, but he only felt deep, throbbing pain. The elder stared back with wide
eyes and shaky legs. A weak old man with little fight in his body. “What do you want, Cirrus? To kill me?”
“I will kill you. I can never forgive you for what you did. You deserve to die, if not for myself or for Anna,
then for all of Oorna.”
“For Oorna? Really? Or is this just about revenge?” the elder took the first step down towards Cirrus.
“You don’t understand at all. Oorna was dying well before I stepped into the picture. A town in the
middle of the desert relying on a finite magic supply. I may have selfishly selected myself as the lone
survivor of a dying nation, but there was nothing that could spare this place from destruction. As the
world’s lone magic user, I could unite every empire and put an end to war and conquest forever. The
sacrifice of one tiny culture is so insignificant when you consider the big picture. Who are you to say
Oorna is more important than Gannus or our lives have higher value than the lives of the millions of
people we’ve never met? I am far more of a savior than a devil.”
“Quit trying to convince yourself your common lust for power is some kind of noble deed. You are a lost
man who has forgotten the value of life.” Cirrus struggled to hold back more tears. He took a breath.
“You don’t care about these people. You care about your own immortality.”
“And you followed me to the very end because you thought one day I would crown you as my successor.”
Cirrus lowered his head. The anger he should have felt before began to trickle back into his muscles.
“Your own pitiful plea for power is exactly the same as mine,” the elder said. “You are not a hero Cirrus.
You are a villain just like me. Just like every other person on this planet.”
“I’ve made some of the same mistakes you have, but my greed dies with you,” Cirrus pulled his arm back
and felt every drop of mana rushing towards his palm to fuel a final spell. The veins running up his wrist
ran cold and his fingertips tingled. He thrust his arm forward.
The elder emitted a delicate whimper and dropped to his knees. He held his chest for a moment and then
fell on his face. The hilt of a dagger stood planted in his spine.
Cirrus hadn’t finished the spell. His arm extended outward, the mana rushed back into the goblet. Empty
and unresolved, he lowered his hand.
“W…what happened?” Cirrus asked. The crowd of men gathered around muttering amongst themselves.
Nobody stepped forward. They just looked at Cirrus. Some of them confused and some of them angry.
“We couldn’t follow a false God,” a man from the mob said. “But if you have your way you will destroy
our people.”
With all the magic left at his disposal, Cirrus had no fear. He held his hand back and began gathering
enough energy to vaporize them all. It would be the last spell he would ever cast. Adrenaline surging, he
gritted his teeth until a small whimper interrupted his focus.
The cage of children. Only nine left. The entire future of Oorna trapped inside an iron box. He closed his
eyes and tried to ignore it. But even with his eyes closed, he still saw something. A forest with tall green
trees and fields of flowers. Though he couldn’t see her there, he could feel Anna. And he knew what he
had to do.
Cirrus rushed to the cage and gripped the iron bars within his hands. He closed his eyes and gritted his
teeth, thinking only of the forest from his vision.
* * *
The fresh scent of flowers overtook Cirrus’s senses. His retinas tingled from the orange glow of sunlight
peeking through his eyelids.
“It’s daylight?” a little girl asked. “Where are we?”
Cirrus opened his eyes and looked up into the tall red trees. “I’m not exactly sure. A long ways away.”
“Are we ever going to go back to Oorna?” a little boy asked. He looked at Cirrus with big blue eyes.
“I don’t think so. Oorna isn’t very safe anymore.”
“I miss my mommy.” A tear rolled down the boy’s cheek. “I want to go back. I don’t want to be out here.”
“I miss someone very important to me too.” Cirrus pried open the cage and pulled out the first little girl.
“But right now, this is the safest place we can be. Maybe someday we can see the people we love again.”
“It’s cold out here,” a little girl said. “Can you cast a fire spell?”
Cirrus smiled and crouched down to meet her eyes. “I’m Cirrus. What’s your name?”
“Lola.”
“Well, Lola, I think tonight I’m going to show you all how to make fire without using magic. That way you
can make fire whenever you need it. Even without mana.”
“I didn’t know you could do that,” a little boy said as he hopped out of the cage.
“And then we can pick some fruit to eat and build a little shelter. Maybe tonight we can play a game and
get to know each other. It won’t be so bad out here once we become friends.”
Cirrus helped the remaining children out of the cage and then stepped behind a tree to collect wood. He
pulled out his mana goblet and ran his finger around the outside. There would be time later for regret
and reflection, but for now he knew to keep his head up high. “There’s just one thing I need to do
before I can show you how to build a fire.”
Cirrus shook the last few drops of mana out of the goblet and onto the ground. He watched the liquid
seep through the grass and disappear into the soil. “Okay, kids. I’m going to show you how to build a
fire. Gather around.”
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Joshua Abbott is a student living with his loving wife Lily in
Springfield, Oregon. He is passionate about fantasy and enjoys
reading and writing with every spare minute he can find.
Springfield, Oregon. He is passionate about fantasy and enjoys
reading and writing with every spare minute he can find.