The power of a magus

Annabelle's magical flames illuminated the entire room, casting the dancing shadows of the people present onto all the walls. Even they seemed terrified by the little girl with flaming hands.

"Annabelle!" shouted Marcus to draw the inexperienced magus's attention. "Release your fire!"

"I-I don't know how, big brother Marcus! I-it's getting bigger!"

Indeed, the small fireball was growing between the girl's fingers. Panic quickly spread among Baltsar's lackeys, who didn't know how much it would grow. Marcus trembled as he saw the fire getting out of control. His eyes never left the rapidly expanding incandescent ball.

Damn it! If we don't do something, it's going to burn everything!

"P-Pretend like you're going to throw it!"

In truth, Marcus had no idea, but it was the first thing that came to mind. The little girl obeyed, unaware that Marcus was improvising, and threw the ball at Himilcon as if it were a snowball. Thanks to the gods, it worked, and the man's clothes began to catch fire. The massive man was lucky, as the attack was far from powerful enough to turn him into a human torch. He quickly managed to extinguish the flames.

Immediately, his gaze shifted to Marcus, who was trying to take back his treasure.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?"

Marcus saw the man advancing towards him and stretched both hands out towards him, looking menacing.

By all the gods and goddesses, let this work!

"Not another step, or I'll use my magic. And I won't be aiming for your clothes."

"And what's your magic? Huh? Fire?" A sneer appeared on his hideous face. "If I remember correctly, you're afraid of fire. I'm not at risk."

"It's not fire that I control, but lightning! I can easily kill you if I want!"

He was lying on two counts. First, he didn't control any magic. He had simply been told he had potential. Second, his primary element wasn't lightning, but wind. He just found it more threatening. Who's afraid of wind?

"Bullshit! I don't believe a word of it!"

"Want to try me, Himilcon? I'll aim my magic between your eyes and see what happens!"

The man said nothing, but there was a hint of doubt on his face.

"Baltsar, my bracelet! And the rest of my belongings! Now!"

"You won't steal from the gang. Not under my leadership. We need it."

"I don't give a damn, it's mine! I stole them at my own risk!"

"Like everything else we steal, Marcus. If I let you leave with them, then what message am I sending to the others? I'll have to let you go today, but I'll have to take them back another day, willingly or by force."

This time, it was Marcus who said nothing. He knew that his boss had a long arm and the means to retaliate later.

"Do you think you're safe in the capital? Naive. You won't even see the face of the one who kills you. Don't take that risk. Give up."

"Just the bracelet then."

"Nothing. You leave empty-handed or I ensure that you don't enjoy your stay in the capital. Your choice."

Marcus seemed torn. His gaze alternated between his treasure and Baltsar's face. Finally, perhaps seeing the terrified face of young Annabelle, he made his decision.

"All right. We're leaving. Come on, Annabelle."

Annabelle and Marcus retreated cautiously towards the exit, fearing that Baltsar and his officers might change their minds. Fortunately for Marcus, the fear of magi was deeply rooted in the hearts, even of the Empire's rats. There were enough stories about them to fill a library the size of a city! Everyone knew that magi were superior beings akin to gods. In fact, it was no coincidence that the king of the gods was also the god of magic and knowledge. The Carthaginian Empire had prevailed over its rivals, including the Reman Empire, thanks to its magi and had collapsed because of very powerful magi. A magus, if powerful enough, could build a kingdom just as he could destroy one.

Thus, it could be understood, even if they hadn't seen the extent of Marcus's powers, why Baltsar and the others hadn't pursued the conversation into a confrontation. Even if they were powerful rats, they were still rats, cowardly beings though brawlers.

The magi who had conducted the examination for the young people of Niers were very angry with the guards tasked with keeping an eye on the two young people who had awakened in this city. Every awakened child, whether noble or not by birth, was precious to the Empire. They were too valuable a resource to be lost. Surely they would have been severely punished if they had returned without them. Fortunately, Annabelle and Marcus reappeared fairly quickly. Of course, they were reprimanded for their behavior, but this minor and humiliating incident was quickly overlooked.

They presented themselves empty-handed, which was seen quite favorably by the magi who did not wish to travel with these two dirty children and their belongings, which would certainly be just as dirty. Chariots drawn by powerful horses awaited them in the square facing Fort Balthazar Gebal, as had been agreed earlier with the three magi from the ceremony. This fort protected the city, its port, and the entrance to the Roda River. It took its name from one of the most powerful magi the Empire had ever known.

Balthazar Gabal was a great magician, a great scientist, and a great general who, according to legend, had single-handedly prevented the fall of Cartagena threatened by the Mali Empire, which then extended to Hispania. His name was more well-known than some emperors. This massive rectangular fort punctuated with six high round towers was just one example of a structure bearing this glorious name.

The old magus Ernest Gal de Montargent exchanged a few words with Charles-Henri Marcelo de Gariga and Helen Capu de Brouges before they left for the capital. Unfortunately for Ernest Gal de Montargent, he was not part of the journey as he had an official function in this city. Indeed, he was the governor of the fort as well as the dean of the great library of Niers. He was not just guarding boring books inaccessible to the common people, but was tasked with preserving the knowledge they contained and studying it to delve deeper into the study of spells and runes. His main achievement in all his years of study was the decryption and translation of an ancient treatise from Persia on the art of rune engraving in Persia and neighboring regions. It contained many partially forgotten knowledge, including the best rates and alloys to maximize their effects. But that was nearly ten years ago, and since then, he had done nothing extraordinary.

The old man, feeling his end approaching, still had many things to discover before allowing himself to leave his post and abandon his books even for a time. This was especially true as the young people he had accepted showed themselves to be particularly active. More than once, he had been surprised by their original reasoning.

"Lord of Gariga, Lady of Brouges, I can only wish you a pleasant journey. May the gods watch over you. Young people, I wish you courage and great success. You are the pride of Niers. May the gods watch over you."

The horses seemed eager to leave, as much as the two magi. Their luggage had already been hoisted onto the roofs of the two carts. The coachmen waited in silence for everyone to board, but did not seem particularly rushed as they were paid by the task.

They had naturally heard the news that two young people had been detected during the Awakening ceremony. Although it was a very important festival throughout the Empire, they had not participated, not in the past three years, because of their profession. The oldest of the coachmen, a big man with a peaceful air and an imposing white mustache, nevertheless liked this festive atmosphere. The last time he had gone there as a spectator was to accompany his grandson. Everything had changed after that day. His grandson, who had been rejected, had ended his life in despair. The old coachman had suffered greatly because he believed, even to this day, that this tragedy was his fault. Indeed, he had told him many stories about the magi and their extraordinary powers throughout his childhood. Unfortunately, this view was shared by his son, the father of the unfortunate child, who had not spoken to him since. The old coachman had no one to talk to except his masters, his assistants, and his horses.

"Well! We're ready to leave," Helen Capu de Brouges said, clapping her hands. "Are you ready for the greatest adventure of your life?"

"Y-yes, ma'am," Annabelle replied timidly, as excited as she was anxious.

"Yes," Marcus said behind her. "We're going to the capital, right?"

"Indeed, young man. Cartagena is four days from here, but that's with an ordinary carriage. Do you see those inscriptions in the wood of the wheels? They allow this carriage to go faster. There are also some on the horses' horseshoes. In two days, we'll have arrived. There, you will be able to study with the greatest magi in the world! You will learn to read, write, count, history, geography, to write and pronounce incantations, to cultivate your spiritual energy, and the basics of alchemy! After that, you will be able to choose your path between alchemy and magic. In both cases, expect all kinds of surprises and a life you never dared to dream of. Now, everyone on board!"