by Volentrin

Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction,

Desc: Fantasy Story: A man who has magical abilities is tested in a very strange way. he is also actively looking for training.

I was sure I was being followed home. Whatever or whoever was following me, was good! I could not discern it at all. There was just a tickle of a sixth sense. My teacher, before she died, had said I was the best natural magic user she had seen in ages. Now I was alone. I had nothing and no one to train me, except for her books, and that was difficult at best.

I made it home, and put my primary shields of protection around the house and grounds. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could get in now. If there was one thing I learned well from my teacher, it was protection spells.

I needed training in offensive magic, but my defensive spells were at their height, now. The problem was, that learning that type of magic safely just from books was very difficult. They could give you the raw data, but using the little nuances was not included. That could prove fatal, if done incorrectly.

As I went to the kitchen for a bite to eat, something rocked my house shields. I paused. I heard a scream, and then more rocking as whatever it was tried to enter. No dice. I was safe as safe could be.

It finally stopped trying to get in, and I heard a knocking on my door. I paused. Now this was strange. A killer knocking on my door? Who had ever heard of such a thing? I ignored the insistant knocking on my door, and went to my library. I and pulled out my copy of 'Offensive Magic and You'.

While I had learned to safely use a few of the spells contained in this book, I was far from practiced and versed in them. I had the power, my teacher had told me so, but I had no one left to train me.

I opened to page forty six and started in on the spell I had been trying to learn lately. It was a force spell that delivered so much energy to a specific target that it was blasted out of existence when it hit. The problem was, that when used improperly, it had a nasty habit of rebounding on the user. Therein lay the problem. I was unsure if I had learned it properly.

'When making the gestures, be sure that your left hand is perfectly straight, at all times, ' I read.

I had this part down pat. It was just the description of the gestures, that was a bit vague. It wouldn't do to try to use a spell that was partially learned.

The right hand could be as fluid as I wished, but the left had to complete all gestures with perfect rigidity. It was a powerful spell. There was almost no defense against it, when it was cast properly. Even my best defensive spell would be hard pressed to block it... and I was a 'wiz', literally, with defense.

I continued reading. I practiced, and practiced, and practiced my gestures. I was sure I had them down, but was still afraid of this spell in the worst possible way. It was a major power spell. It was designed to take out just about anything and/or anyone. It was so powerful that 'colateral damage' was probable, rather than merely possible.

I had learned some minor offensive spells along the way, but this one was of a magnitude that was beyond anything of which I had ever heard. It was the difference between an seasoned and tested adult, and a child in kindergarten, as to the relationship between the level of power. It was a top end spell. I was learning it alone, while only partially trained.

Damn Melissa for dying on me. Still, she had died protecting us from a power storm, that had been sent by... something... or someone, at any rate. I thought I had inherited an enemy from her. It was very disconcerting that I didn't know even so much as the enemy's name.

The next morning I was ready to head out to work. I put up a protective spell on myself, as I usually did. My protective spells had kept me alive through several attacks, as well as some very curious 'accidents', that seemed to happen around me a lot.

I worked at a college as an assistant professor of languages, and I needed to be at school by the start of the seven-thirty class. The professor always seemed to be missing. I usually had all his classes to cover. This meant a busy day for me.

While I had expected an attack on the way to the campus, none materialized. Good news for me, but now I was worried about the lack of an attack. So far, there had been no attacks during school hours, for which I was grateful.

I had my best protective spell, "Rebound" going. It would turn any attack back to the attacker or attackers. It was a specially designed spell that I had developed on my own, and I was proud of it. So far it had stood up to anything cast my way, in the form of an attack.

I had even turned the dangerous "Death of Soul" spell, which someone had at cast at me, just last month. That was high magic, indeed. I had not learned much about the spell, as yet. It was a 'dark magic' spell... sometimes known as 'black magic'.

As I thought about it, it occurred to me I might have angered a powerful black wizard. Well, too bad, really. I was not going to roll over and let him or her kill me, over some imagined slight.

I made it to school without incident, and started my classes. All day we did the ancient Greek islands. It was a fascinating study, really. I assigned homework in preparation for an upcoming test. I explained to each class, that testing would begin at the end of the week.

It was after I had gotten off the bus, that the first attack was cast at me. A "knock down" spell of some sort had been used on me. My personal shield flared and, of course, sent it back just as it had been designed to do! The flare was visible to any who looked so I stepped between two buildings, and waited.

Finally the flare died down, and I knew that the spell had rebounded, and was back attacking whoever had sent it.

'Well, more power to em, ' I thought with a grin.

That would teach whoever it was, a very valuable lesson.

I was almost back home when a shadowy figure stepped in front of me. I stopped.

"Johnathon Bishop. I request a truce with ye," the figure stated.

"Uh, huh. Why should I truce with you? Aren't you and your friends trying to kill me?" I asked him.

"This is not important. What is important is we talk about a mutual problem," he/she/it stated.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Fiction / Science Fiction /