Prologue - An Age of Perfection, Ruined only by the Strive for Perfection Itself

Prologue - An Age of Perfection, Ruined only by the Strive for Perfection Itself

A Chapter by Grey_Man
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The world was in an age of peace and prosperity. Magic graced the lands enhancing the beauty of everything that it touched. The rivers were full and flowed with glorious power, the water sparkling in the sunlight. Trees stretched into the sky providing sh

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Resurrection of Times Long Past, Long Forgotten

Prologue: An Age of Perfection, Ruined only by the Strive for Perfection Itself

4th Age

The world was in an age of peace and prosperity. Magic graced the lands enhancing the beauty of everything it touched. The rivers were full and flowed with glorious power, water sparkling in the sunlight. Trees stretched into the sky providing shelter to the innumerable amount of wonders hidden all around them, creatures of all shapes and sizes could be found under the incredible canopies of forestland. Cities of massive archways and spiralling towers were scattered all across the lands with populations never hungry or cold.

Magic was the reasoning behind most of these occurrences. It was little known that there was in fact a third force of magic inhabiting the world. Actually no know knew or at least no one was willing to release the fact that they knew it existed. Most people believed that there were only  the Creative and Destructive forces of magic. As incredible as these forces are, they pale in comparison to the third.

Across the world there exist countless magical guilds that practise creative and destructive magic, as both were useful and definitely worth learning, after all they were partly responsible for the current state of bliss that the world enjoyed.

These guilds never came to the point of actual combat anymore, even if that wasn’t the case a thousand years ago. This was because every wizard knew that if open conflict ever did occur the damage done to both the human race and other races would be nothing compared to the destruction that would come upon the world. Many believed that because of the incredible feats some of the greatest living Wizards could perform, the world itself could be torn completely apart.

So instead of open warfare that would degrade a Wizard’s appearance and stature of someone above such things, the guilds fought each other through knowledge. The guild which held the more knowledge and thus power would be the guild at the forefront of decision making. The leader of the ‘Council of Guilds’.



Guild of Light

Inside the tallest spire of the north wing of the City of Light, Brenolus could be found, day after day he would be sitting in his bare study at the top of the north tower. His beloved chestnut desk faced the enormous glassless window, he had a perfect view of the massive ocean, the small waves hugged the coastline and provided a resonating sound that relaxed his mind.

Brenolus Fliwisky, more commonly known as ‘The Blood Red Wizard’, stands above most of his peers.  He is renown throughout all the lands and his word carries much weight in the council even if his guild isn’t the most powerful. Wizards may respect his opinion, but he isn’t number one.

His master the Wizard known as none other than ‘The Great White Wizard’ was considered the greatest to have ever lived in these lands. His guild, ‘The Guild of Creation’ is the leader of the council of guilds, mostly due to his research alone. Over three thousand years of records proved that many of his extraordinary discoveries were firsts. His feats with creation magic unsurpassed, his destruction magic feared above all other things that exist.

Brenolus has always had a need to prove himself to his mentor. He has wanted nothing other than to surpass him, to show the council that he is indeed worthy of not only being his student but also of demanding the same kind of respect.

That is why when Brenolus made a somewhat small discovery into the fundamental workings of magic he decided to lock himself away. That ‘small’ discovery turned out to be a gem and now was his time to present it to the council of magic.

As Brenolus paced back and forth, thinking of what to say and what he would do with his power there was a small knock on his chamber door.

    “Who is it? I am rather busy and do not want to be disturbed.” He gruffly asked the person that had come to his door, just before his important speech. Annoyance more than prevalent in his voice.

    “I have come to talk to you, my pupil” came the reply in the mysterious voice that he knew all too well.
    “Enter.” It was a simple yet effective response. Brenolus knew well that his master disliked inefficiency above almost anything else.

An old man, whose age was indistinguishable and often debated, but estimated at around three hundred entered the room. His pure white robes and long white beard gave way to his great name. Sky blue eyes that grew lighter and lighter as the years passed were deep and mysterious. His master was tall, taller than most regular people as he stood two feet higher then Brenolus’ head. Intimidating to anyone whether it was the first time you had seen him or the hundredth.

    “You cannot present your findings to the council, not now and not ever, I implore this of you. It is of course up to you and strictly speaking I cannot forbid you. But, I will tell you now that what you know is both dangerous and unstable, in the wrong hands disastrous.” The voice was direct and to the point, there was no mistaking the threat within the warning.

    “Why? Why is it now that I finally have something that will surpass you, that you come barging into my chambers and shoot me down before I get the chance of success? My guild has been in the lower echelon for too long, it’s high time that we get given a chance!” His voice was rising, he was angry and hurt, it felt like his mentor had driven a knife through his chest. “I-” He was cut off abruptly.
    “Look, I am sorry. Hurting you is not something I enjoy. You have proved very much the worthy apprentice and your resent discovery proves the belief I had when I took you as my pupil. Do not get me wrong, what you have discovered is beyond remarkable, but you are not the first to make this discovery.” The mystery remain in his voice but you could hear that touch of the pride he had for is student and of pain he knew he was causing. Even if the face showed nothing.

To say Brenolus was shocked was an understatement.

    “Not the first…?” it was more a thought to himself rather than an actual question, he hadn’t even meant to say it aloud.

    “No. Most of the great wizards over the last three thousand years have also made this discovery. This means that you have made it into a category of only a select few Wizards. A feat I knew you would accomplish, I am however, surprised by how quickly you have managed this. After all you are not even one hundred years old.”

Brenolus took a step back and sat down into his grand leather chair, looking out towards the ocean thinking about this news. A puzzled expression dampened the perfect features of his face. As he sat deep in thought the old man continued talking.

    “Finding out the workings of this world is no easy thing, some wizards have spent a lifetime working on this problem without finding a solution. The third force of magic, or life magic, as most who know of its existence refer to it, is in fact what keeps this world running. It’s role in this world is to balance out the creative and destructive magic and to make sure the cycle of life remains in working order.
    This magic is everywhere and nowhere, most people who understand it cannot touch it, or even feel it. But, people who learn to channel it are rare indeed.
    The magic of life was actually the first magic I felt and could grasp, it comes more naturally to me than the typical creative and destructive. It is the reason I understand those two so well.” The old man was still standing there, exactly as how he was when he entered and although this frustrated Brenolus more than he cared to admit, his anger and hurt had fallen away.

    “So what is next for me then?” he asked, for the first time in a few decades he was seeking guidance from his teacher. His pride swallowed, he was now back to where he had started.

    “That is not for me, or for anyone but you to decide my pupil. Do you still intend to tell the council?” His left eyebrow was slightly raised as he posed this question to his student.

    “No, I think I can handle the shadows for a little while longer.” Brenolus’ voice was pointed and was laced with the sound of a dismissal.

The old man swung around, his long white robes flailing about in the motion as he left the small cold stone chambers at the top of the north tower.

When he was out of sight Brenolus returned his gaze out towards the peaceful ocean to begin his thoughts again.


The Guild of Creation

‘The Great White Wizard’ was but one of his many names that went with his many faces. As he left the cold tower of his pupil he was in deep and troubled thought. Although he was proud of his pupil, he was concerned that his pupil did not understand.

The last thing required for a wizard to learn before he was considered a master was wisdom. Without wisdom decision making is very much guess work. For his pupil to think that it was a good idea to present that sort of knowledge to the wider community indicates a lack of wisdom or a lack of knowledge, the second being far more terrifying than the first.

If Brenolus does not fully understand this magic and attempts to use it who knows what will happen to him, to the world for that matter. This magic is the foundations that his world runs on, just interrupting it can cause catastrophe.

He had learnt this the hard way. A couple of hundred years back, when he had first discovered this magic he had attempted to use it to cure his dying son. At the time he thought: well it is the magic of ‘life’ right? Why not use it for that purpose?

Of course he was young and naïve and had been incredibly lucky that he had caused only a couple of years of famine and drought a few hundred miles around. This of course devastated him to no ends, but he was dealt a larger blow. In the use of this magic he had killed quite a few people, his ever brightly shinning beacon of support and love in his wife and beautiful daughter who had barely started living some of those among the casualties. His mistake had cost him dearly, but it could have done so much more.

The old man walked through the dull and damp corridors reminiscing over  the times of happiness that he had shared with this family and of the promise he had made to himself on that fateful day. Never again would he allow the magic of life to be used for anything other than saving the world. Only in that desperate act was there anything world the consequences that could come from its use.

As he left the guild enclosure and was once again out in the beautiful forest that felt so much like home, ’The Great White wizard’ move off from the beaten track, closed his eyes and felt himself drain away and then fill back up. When he opened his eyes he was home, back at his guild.

It was one of the many secrets he held onto. His method of transport was well known, but so far no one was able to repeat his feat of teleportation. Giving out this secret would release so many others all more dangerous than the one before.

His journal held so much knowledge, so much power that the spells and magic that he placed on it for protection made it basically invincible. It would survive forever and only he would be able to read it until another destined for this knowledge would unlock it, this of course was part of the cycle and would be long after he had passed from the world of the living.


11 years later

The Guild of Light

Brenolus sat at his desk the light sea breeze sliding effortlessly through his grey and aging hair. A smile was showing on his normally straight lips, he was happy. That was a very new feeling for him.

It had been about 10 years since his wife had died and tomorrow was his one hundredth birthday. The death of his wife had really hurt Brenolus. He had locked himself into his rooms for months, it had taken his mentor to come and rescue him from dying of heart ache.

Over the period of time that he had been confined to his tower, Brenolus had developed a very large fear of death. To him it was an unknown, something he wasn’t used to existing. As his thoughts had been on his wife and where she was now, the fear that she might have just ceased to exist terrified him. Would he ever see her again?

His paranoia had overtaken him and he now truly believe that existence ceased at death. So 10 years ago today he decided to find a way to live forever. Never would he have to face death. Never would he cease to exist.

The reason for his smile, was that he had finally found a way to achieve that goal. After ten years of planning and calculation, he was ready.

Brenolus walked around his tower completely emptying it of all furniture, even the enormous chestnut desk he loved so much. Standing in the middle of his room he walked anti-clockwise around his room drawing runes and symbols.

As powerful as Brenolus was he was not powerful enough to channel the amount of creative and destructive magic as he would need for this feat. The runes were a mix of amplifiers and converters, all dedicated to making enough magical energy so that when he channelled the life magic through it he could transpose it into his body adding it to his own life force.

When all the runes were finished and everything was set up just as he needed. Brenolus sat down in the very centre of his now enormous seeming room.

He gained the meditative state almost immediately, he was so practised at this that that was no surprise, actually it was second nature to him. Slowly he started to call on all the magical energy he could muster, drawing in both creative and destructive magic through the amplifiers.

Brenolus could feel the magic starting to cause pain throughout his body and stopped drawing on more magic. The amount he was holding was phenomenal. He was willing to bet no one else had ever held onto this much magic. With the tingling sensation that rode through his arms, he could feel the magic pulsating through his body.

This was only the beginning. He was yet to draw upon the third and most powerful magic. Slowly he directed all the magic he could summon towards the converters, powering them up and readying everything for the final act.

He once again focused on his meditation, but this time he reached out towards his surroundings. Brenolus could feel the power of the deep rumbles from the ocean and the serenity from the tall timbers of the forest. Slowly he started to draw them in. After about a minute or so he realised that the life magic extended into all living this, so without second thought he started calling upon it all.




Guild of Creation

The old man was woken from his peaceful slumber by a sudden and unknown feeling.

Realisation swept over him in an instant. He jerked upright and for the first time in over a hundred years emotion could be seen wash across his stony features. His white brow laced with sweat.
He closed his eyes feeling the familiar emptying and filling feeling and when finally he opened his eyes again, he was looking at The Guild of Light. Gathering all the magic he could summon he raced towards the northern most tower, in the direction of his pupil.

Without even realising it the old man had actually managed to fly, in his state of desperation he had no clue, actually even if he did, he would not have cared. There were more important matters at hand. His pupil had to be stopped.

As he passed the locals by, they turned and stared in wonder and awe. ‘The Great White Wizard’ had done it again. He had unlocked another unknown mystery. No one had worked out how to fly since the beginning of time. It had been considered impossible.

The old man was racing faster than he could believe, but this didn’t phase him. He didn’t care how he arrived at his destination, as long as he got there in time.

As he arrived at the large oak doors that were the entrance to the chambers of his pupil, ‘The Blood Red Wizard’, he slowed to a stop before carefully reaching towards the door.

Instantly he felt the shock that would have thrown any normal wizard across the corridor, but he instead parried it, stepped back and with only a motion of the arm, blasted the doors inwards.

Inside he saw what he expected, but had dreaded so much.

“You must not do this! After eleven years I thought you would have discovered at least a few of the consequences involved with the use of this magic. Please, I implore you to stop now before you cause even more untold damage on the innocent world!” a tear could be seen forming in the old man’s eyes

“I don’t care!” a voice quivered, it was nothing like that of Blood Red’s usual voice. He was too far gone, he had completely surrendered to the addictive nature of the Magic of life and with the amount he was holding this wasn’t a surprise.

“Stop Blood Red, before I have to do it for you!” He hoped his voice was steady and filled with his usual authority, but he failed to keep the sense of failure out. So with that he gathered all the magic he could summon and more.

Brenolus was shocked but maintained his control, his teacher had never called him by his preferred name: ‘Blood Red’, before. It was a show of respect that he never thought he would earn. But it was too late, he was in too deep.

With that Brenolus felt a tug on his feed of magic and fought to maintain it. The struggle of power went on well into the night. Soon their very surroundings started to flicker in and out.

“STOP THIS MADNESS!” the desperation in the old man’s voice almost brought tears to his eyes, but no matter what he did he couldn’t stop, it was like he was possessed.

He felt one last desperate tug and the  magic was pulled from his grasp. As he groped blindly for it he realised that the world had flickered out again. The Blood Red Wizard looked on in terror as he felt a massive shockwave hit his body.

The Great White wizard had tears streaming down his face for the first time since he had killed his wife and daughter. He had failed them, his pledge destroyed and null. The magic had been used again and this time the consequences would be astronomical, as the world started to flicker he knew it was too late. With one last tug on the thread of power he gained control.

The world flickered out again and a shockwave could be felt, everything went black.
 



© 2009 Grey_Man


Author's Note

Grey_Man
Just the prologue, a bit unrefined still. This is however my first attempt at writing for a while now. could probably do with some perspective fix ups and tense changes. When I get into the story these should be better.

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Awesome! I love the way you write. Took me awhile to read the whole thing but totally worth it. ;)

Posted 14 Years Ago



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Added on August 29, 2009
Last Updated on September 3, 2009


Author

Grey_Man
Grey_Man

Melbourne, Australia



About
University student, but haven't studied english or literature for over 2 years so I am a bit out of it. Writing is more just a hobby or release. more..

Writing