Why You shouldn't Argue With Magic

Jul 24, 2023

Hey,

I’m back with the fourth and final part of our excerpt and this week, we learn why mages don’t usually have more than one magical gift. You’ll see why you shouldn’t argue with magic. For some reason, a certain character we all know and love just keeps doing that even though it doesn’t get him anywhere but frustrated.

And I still can’t tell you about the trouble I’m in, but soon, I can talk about it. I promise!

This is Ran, Sarn’s son, sidekick and the character who’s in the most trouble right now, and I just want to take this moment to say that it’s not my fault. I know I’ve said before, but this time, it really isn’t my fault.

You’ll see what I mean soon.

But first, we’ve got some new podcast episodes:

New Podcast Episodes & Videos

Fantasy, Lore, and More: Many Savage Moons
Fantasy, Lore, and More: In Sleep You Know
Fantasy, Lore, and More: Evergreens And Aspen Trees

Listen on our podcast. Watch on YouTube.

And now, how about that excerpt?

Shards For His Gift

By Melinda Kucsera

It Shouldn’t Bind Me (Part 2)

(Shards For His Gift excerpt Part 4. Read Part 1, Part 2, & Part 3.)

Where under Mount Eredren was there a window? It must be one of the above ground levels. If only he could rise and go to that window. The view should tell him where he was since his magic wouldn’t. It wasn’t normally this stingy with information. Why was it acting like this?

“Why did that promise force us to obey him?” His magic slammed a green fist into the windowsill, and it flexed. But didn’t crumble because it was stone, and this magic loved stonework too much to harm it just to make a point.

“I don’t know.” Sarn rolled onto his side and stopped when that movement pulled on his healing wounds.

“But you have a guess? I know you do.” His magic gazed out the window, but it still wouldn’t let any of its light extend beyond that window.

“I have another type of magic.” Sarn glanced away. He didn’t want that other magic, but he was stuck with it.

“You only need me. You don’t need it.”

“That’s true, but I still have it.” For all the good it had done him. Sarn closed his eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing in his back and belly. He hoped the pain was a sign the wounds were healing, but he couldn’t confirm that because neither magic he had access to could heal anything. So far, that white magic was more trouble than it was worth. His earth magic was far more useful, even though it had a mind of its own.

“I wish it couldn’t bind you. But I don’t think I can stop it.” And that was the worst part of all this. That white magic had more power over him than he had over it and no wishing that were otherwise would change it. Sarn sighed because there wasn’t anything else he could do right now.

“It works on promises, yes?” His earth magic shot across the room and reappeared at his bedside.

“From what I understand, yes, but I don’t know if it’s limited to that.” Sarn felt impelled to point out. So much of that white magic was a mystery because it only came when it wanted to, rarely ever when he called it, unlike his earth magic.

“Promise it will never bind me. Promise me, and that should fix it.”

“No!” A white light gathered at the other end of the room.

Oh great, now his other magic wanted to chat. Sarn groaned.

“Yes, I won’t do your bidding.” His earth magic shot across the room and appeared near the cloud of white magic, but it retained its human shape. His white magic stayed a shimmering cloud.

“You must. You’re part of something bigger. While I just am.” The white cloud expanded like it was spreading its arms to encompass something larger than itself.

His earth magic raked the white cloud with a glare. “Well, you can’t have him. He belongs to me. We are an earth mage, not whatever you are.” The glowing green man gestured to Sarn.

“This must be why none of the old tales talk about mages having access to more than one power. All they do is fight.” Sarn would have shaken his head if he wasn’t lying down with a soft pillow under his head. Darkness eclipsed the room as the green light winked out.

But we don’t fight, his earth magic said in his mind as it settled over him like a warm blanket. You and I are one, and we protect everyone.

“Yes, we do.” Sarn opened his eyes, and that familiar green glow wreathed his sight as it illuminated a bedside table laden with a pitcher, a glass, and covered dishes. There was a closet, a writing table, and a padded chair like the ones in the library in a corner by a small table with a book on it. But something else caught his gaze. Above a dresser, a mirror hung on the wall, and it reflected the glow of his eyes back at him.

Where am I? Who had enough money to buy a real mirror? He felt the silver covering the glass from across the room. It called to him. What do I look like now?

It had been years since he’d dared to look upon his face. What must I look like after so many trials and tribulations? Were his scars still visible? Part of Sarn didn’t want to know, but the rest was curious. He’d seen Ran’s face countless times and wondered about his own. Everyone said they looked startlingly alike. And I don’t look like my mother.

Neither did Sovvan, though. But she was his twin sister, so she should look like him. Sarn almost laughed at himself for framing it that way when she was the elder of the two of them, and she liked to remind him about that at every opportunity. But he sobered as the mirror beckoned to him. If I look in that mirror, will I see myself or the face of the father I never knew?

Running footsteps startled him out of his thoughts. Sarn put the question aside. His body felt heavy, though some of the dizziness faded when his magic stopped interrogating him. Perhaps he’d just lie here since he didn’t have the energy to rise. He could look in the mirror later if he dared or not at all. I don’t have to look. I’ve had this face for twenty years and only a vague idea of what I look like.

Sarn rolled slowly and painfully onto his other side to face the door as it swung wide open, and a small shadow rushed in.

To be continued in Shards For His Gift. Get your copy now.

—Ran, son of Sarn, writing on behalf of my Scribe, Melinda Kucsera