Conjunction

Caden struggled to get a hold of himself, willing that burning sensation of power to recede, his breathing becoming more regular as the feedback of amplified energy faded.

"You have my word, Master."

"And I know that you will keep it," he replied, breathing a sigh of relief. "To be granted a staff at the age of twenty-two has been unheard of for generations, but our need is extreme. You must always remain conscious of this danger, Caden, keep it in the forefront of your mind."

"You still haven't told me why I need this," he replied.

"To defend yourself, of course," the Master explained. "Wands are used merely as an aid to direct energy during spells and incantations, they are tools that help one focus. A staff is a weapon, it amplifies that energy, draws on it to destructive effect. Just as a knight wields a sword, so too does a sorcerer wield his staff. Before you venture out into the world, you must learn to harness its power, you must memorize the relevant spells."

"Wait just a moment," Caden protested, the staff still clutched in his hand. "I became your apprentice because I wanted to learn, not because I wanted to hurt people."

"I realize that, but there are people out there who may wish to hurt you," the Master replied. "You will have to learn how to protect yourself if you are to succeed in your mission. If you should die, then all of our hopes would die with you."

"I don't know about this..."

"The time for doubt is long past, Caden," the Master chided. "The path that you must walk is clear now, do not shy away from it. Will you refuse this burden?"

"No," he replied after a moment of hesitation. "You're right, as always. Only I can see this through."

"Then we must make haste," the Master said, giving him an encouraging pat on the arm as he passed by him. "Follow me."

They made their way back down the staircase, the Master leading Caden to a door at the rear of the tower. It opened into a room that he had never seen before, so vast that there was no way it could have existed through natural means, there wouldn't have been space for it. The great stone chamber was full of mannequins made from sackcloth and stuffed with straw, like scarecrows in a wheat field. They were lined up in rows, illuminated by the wavering candlelight of dangling chandeliers.

"What is this place?" Caden wondered, following the Master inside. "You've never shown it to me before."

"It exists when I wish it," he replied cryptically. "This will provide a safe environment for you to practice and hone your skills. You won't be able to accidentally harm anyone in here, nor set any fires..."

"I do not yet know what I am to be practicing," Caden replied.

"You've always learned well through reading. Perhaps we should fetch you some relevant books."

***

Caden held his staff in both hands, aiming the falcon's head at one of the sackcloth dummies, chanting an incantation under his breath. He was good at remembering things, always had been, so the concept of committing spells to memory was already familiar to him. It had been the main focus of his studies up until now, poring over books in the library, expanding his knowledge of history and the mystic arts.

As the words left his lips, he felt the energy begin to flow down his arms and through his hands, into the carved wood of the stave. It began to hum louder, the almost musical frequency that he had felt when he had first laid hands on it resonating, growing ever more powerful. If he concentrated, he could almost see it, like strands of liquid starlight weaving their way from his fingertips.

"Yes, good!" the Master exclaimed. "Listen to its song, it must be in perfect harmony with your own."

The staff seemed to shake in his hands, and he tightened his grip, feeling that raw power welling inside him again. It was like adrenaline coursing through his veins, but so much stronger, as though an electrical charge was building up inside of his very being.

With a crescendo, the energy was released, a bright flash of light emanating from the bronze tip of the staff. When his eyes adjusted, Caden beheld a burning dummy, the straw within catching aflame. The spell had conjured a bolt of fire, directing it towards his target like an arrow from a bow.

"Good, Caden!" the Master exclaimed. "With these spells, you will be able to harness the very elements themselves. You can create fire, conjure water from thin air, summon a bolt of lightning. They harness simple physical and alchemic principles, manipulating matter, and energy."

"Then...it isn't just a weapon," he replied, lowering his staff. "I could start a campfire, fill a cup with water."

"Precisely!" the Master replied, clapping his bony hands together gleefully. "Where a lesser man would only see a weapon, you see a tool, and that is exactly why I feel I can trust you with this responsibility. The staff is not a mere cudgel, it has many potential uses. If you possess the necessary knowledge, you can conjure light to illuminate a dark path, or freeze water to make an ice bridge across a river."

"What are the limits?" he asked breathlessly, his hands still trembling as he gripped the wooden shaft. He was still growing accustomed to the bizarre sensations that assailed him whenever he drew upon this power. It was invigorating, and a little frightening.

"Only your knowledge and your wisdom," the Master replied. "Always remember that just because you can do something, does not mean that you should. You are studious, and you have a great knowledge of the natural laws, Caden. I am confident that you will make good use of this gift."

***

The Master circled around Caden in the center of the stone chamber, the scarecrows pushed up against the walls on their heavy, iron pedestals. He was wielding his own staff, an unassuming oak walking stick that was engraved with patterns resembling creeping vines, culminating in an ivory handle at the tip. Caden had seen him make use of it on many occasions, the Master was very old and sometimes needed a little extra support. But until now, he would never have guessed at the secret power it held.

"I will now demonstrate another way that you can use your staff to defend yourself," he began, making a point of leaning on it as he hunched over. "We sorcerers are few, and on a quest such as yours, it may be prudent to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Revealing your power may inspire fear and suspicion, or it may alert more dangerous forces to your presence. Let us imagine a scenario where you are accosted by ruffians, and you must protect yourself without calling upon thunder or flame."

"Yes, Master," Caden replied as he waited attentively.

"Strike me with your staff, boy."

"W-what?" Caden stammered, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you joking?"

"Do you think me too frail to withstand it?"

"Master...I would never dream of raising a hand against an old man, never mind my mentor. I could never..."

"Appearances can be deceiving," the Master warned with a wag of his finger. "Very well, if your conscience will not allow it, I shall strike you instead. Prepare yourself."

Caden watched as he hobbled closer, the sound of his walking stick clicking against the stone floor echoing through the cavernous chamber. He wasn't sure what to do. Should he raise his staff and attempt to defend himself? Calling the Master old was an understatement. His body was haggard beneath his robe, and he had not the strength to lift a heavy book, never mind strike his young apprentice.

The old sorcerer steadied himself, gripping his walking stick like a quarterstaff, Caden watching in confusion. He raised it, then struck with the speed and agility of a man a fraction of his age, the blow catching Caden on his upper arm. It was like being hit by a mailed fist, Caden losing his balance, thrown to the ground by the force of the impact. His staff clattered across the floor as it fell from his hands, the apprentice grunting in pain as his back hit the stone.

"Only a fool would think that one's physical properties were relevant in matters of sorcery," the Master chided. Caden climbed to his feet and stooped to retrieve his staff, bruised, and more than a little embarrassed.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"I used magic to amplify the force of my strike. Imagine a swinging pendulum, the inertia of it, the way that gravity acts upon its mass. Now, imagine that you can change those properties, concentrate on that thought."

"Don't I need to learn an incantation?" Caden asked, rubbing his arm.

"For something as simple as this? No. In time, even more complex spells may come to you just as naturally. As in all things, study and practice are key. Now, strike me."

Caden gripped his staff, still hesitant. Although he knew better than to judge his Master on appearances alone, he was still faced with a diminutive old man, his instincts fighting against him as he raised the weapon.

"Concentrate, Caden. See the weight of the staff in your mind's eye, feel the swiftness of its swing. Direct your energy into amplifying those properties."

He swung the far end of his stave, but there was no conviction behind it, the Master easily batting it away. He swung his walking stick into Caden's shin, a muffled yelp of pain escaping his lips as he began to hop on one foot.

"Do you think that a brigand on the road will show you mercy? A cutthroat will live up to his namesake for a handful of coins, he will not lose a moment of sleep over leaving you bleeding in a ditch."

Caden steadied himself, his fingers tightening around his staff. Just like with the incantations, he focused his mind, pouring his will into the implement. There was no complex spell to recite this time. It was more about feeling, intuition. He swung the staff again, and this time, the energy that flowed from his hands acted upon it. It sang through the air as he willed it to strike with more force, feeling its weight increase in his very grasp, as though there was a lead hammer at its tip. There was a tremendous crack as the Master blocked the blow, echoing off the stone walls like thunder.

"Good," he said, nodding approvingly. "With a little training in how to properly handle a quarterstaff, you will become a force to be reckoned with."

***

What followed was three days of intensive training. It seemed too little to prepare Caden for the monumental task that stood before him, but time was not on their side. He learned what he could, devoting himself to study and practice, honing his new skills as much as he was able. He was little more than a novice, but even a novice sorcerer was a potent force when compared to the average person.

When the Master deemed that he was ready, he led him up the spiral staircase again, and into the room at the top of the crooked tower that housed its hoard of magical artifacts. Their destination today was one of the many display cabinets, rusted hinges that had not seen use in an age creaking as he opened the glass doors.

The Master reached inside with a tentative hand, withdrawing an unassuming, wooden box. He set it on a nearby table, brushing aside more faded notes and maps, Caden hovering over his shoulder as he watched him open the lid. The interior was lined with red velvet, and sat upon its cushion was a dagger. Its handle was ornate, made from what looked like silver, adorned with intricate geometric carvings of impressive complexity. At its tip was a glittering sapphire, Caden immediately aware of its magical hum, sensing the power that was imbued within it. The weapon was sheathed in an elegant, leather scabbard, equally ornate. More patterns had been pressed into it, and there were gold studs where it was intended to be joined to a belt.

"What is it?" Caden asked, in awe of the object. Despite the dust that caked the box, the dagger itself was spotless, as clean and as brilliant as the day it had been forged.

"This dagger is known as the Blade of Umorath," he replied, gingerly lifting it from its case. "These walls house many artifacts that have been entrusted to our order over the millennia. They were given to us for safekeeping, or because they were too dangerous to be allowed to fall into the possession of the uninitiated."

He set the weapon down on the table, gripping it by the handle and slowly withdrawing it from its scabbard with a sound like metal scraping on metal. The curved blade shone under the harsh light that bled in through the windows, a long groove running down its length, filled in with what looked like a vein of blue ore. There were wavering patterns in the steel, if that was indeed the material used, its razor-sharp edge glinting as the Master turned it over.

"If you are to set out on this quest alone, I must arm you as best I can. There are many tools here that may help you on your journey."

Caden reached out to touch the knife, but the Master swiftly batted his hand away.

"Careful, fool! The power of this blade lies in its ability to cleave through anything."

"Anything?" Caden repeated.

"Yes," the Master grumbled, "and that includes your fingers. Neither steel nor stone can prevail before its edge. If you take it with you, you must always keep it inside its scabbard unless you intend to use it, as any material that it comes into contact with shall be cut."

"Can I really be entrusted with such rare and powerful artifacts?"

"If the world ends, then they shall be of no use to anyone," the Master replied with a shrug. "Might as well use them while we can, it's better than letting them gather dust."

Next, the Master stooped to rummage inside a large chest, grumbling to himself for a few minutes as he sifted through its myriad contents. He reemerged with a rather plain spool of rope that would be right at home mooring a ship to a dock.

"This artifact is known as the Infinite Strand," he said, extending some of its twisted length. "You will find that no matter how much of it you unspool, you will never reach its end. It will always be as long as the given situation requires. No weight can snap it, nor can any force untie it once knotted, save for the will of its owner."

"Could it be cut with the enchanted dagger?" Caden asked. The Master started to reply, then stopped, twirling the tip of his long beard pensively for a few moments.

"That is an experiment best avoided, I think," he replied.

The next item that he handed to Caden was a simple leather coin purse with a drawstring.

"This purse may not look like much," he began, Caden pulling it open to peer inside and finding nothing out of the ordinary. "But it holds an enchantment that will conceal its contents to any who open it with ill intent, and any pickpocket who attempts to steal it will find it far too heavy to lift."

"It can sense one's intent?" Caden asked, glancing up at his mentor.

"Indeed. I will provide you with coin enough to pay for lodging and provisions during your travels, it will be no small sum. This artifact should make stealing it from you quite impossible."

"This is all well and good, but how will I find this city?" Caden wondered. "I am no cartographer, I know nothing of map reading or navigation. How far East will I have to travel, exactly? Do you know the precise location of the ruined city?"

"I have...some idea," the Master replied somewhat hesitantly. He turned to a glass display case and opened the lid, retrieving a circular, brass tool that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. There was a hinged cap protecting it, and he unfastened the clasp, opening it up like a clam shell. Beneath it was a glass lens that protected a needle within, mounted atop a white disk that was surrounded by numbered symbols. It took Caden a moment to recognize it. It was a compass, a device sometimes used by mariners to find their way at sea. The needle was magnetized, like a lodestone, and always pointed in a Northernly direction.

"What enchantment does this one possess?" Caden asked.

"None, it is an ordinary navigation tool that you will need to familiarize yourself with if you are to stand any chance of finding your way. Coupled with the map that was included in the scroll, you should be able to reach your destination."

"Did you not say that the scroll was penned during the fourth age?" Caden asked skeptically. "That was nearly a thousand years ago. How can you know that the lay of the land is even remotely the same as it was when the map was made?"

"I cannot," the Master replied with a shrug, "but what choice do we have? This is all the information that is available to us. Come, let us go over the map."

***

Caden leaned over the yellowed parchment as the Master gestured to the map that had been drawn onto the aged scroll. It showed the world as it had been known at the time, the continents and landmasses oddly shaped, not quite true to their real-world dimensions. They were still recognizable, but it didn't exactly fill Caden with confidence. The Master had placed a more modern map beside it and was using it as a reference to make better sense of what they were seeing, turning to his mountain of notes as he translated the place names.

"Our kingdom did not exist during the fourth age," he began. "The territory that we now inhabit was home to several smaller city-states. It is hard to say whether these coastlines have changed significantly over time, or if the cartographers of the era simply did a poor job of reproducing them. The borders of our kingdom end here," he said, gesturing to the old map with his bony finger. "Although we are on good terms with neighboring powers, the roads can be treacherous. In these trying times, banditry is on the rise, and the more remote areas are reported to be plagued by highwaymen."

"That is why you thought it necessary to arm me," Caden muttered, his mentor replying with a solemn nod.

"Avoid the cities and large towns as you head East. Follow the roads, the more well-trodden, the better. There are many small villages and hamlets along the route where you might seek shelter in taverns and inns. Remember, you must not advertise the nature of your quest. Tell no one who you are or where you are headed. Assume a new identity if you must."

He slowly dragged his finger to the right, referencing the modern map as he went.

"This land bridge connects our continent to the Eastern peninsula. From there, our knowledge grows spotty."

Caden looked over the parchment, the depictions of green forests and hills gradually giving way to sandy deserts and barren wilderness.

"There are other kingdoms even further East that are said to be civilized," he continued, "but this expanse of desert is oft-rumored to be inhabited by tribes of savages and feral beasts that have made establishing trade routes over land impossible. None now venture there, save for a few brave explorers who have brought back word of harsh conditions and hostile natives."

"And...my destination is right in the middle of that?"

"Naturally," the Master replied. "Bandits and beasts of the forest are one thing, but tell me, what do you know of monsters?"

"Monsters?" Caden repeated, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Beasts that take the shape of a man, lacking in intellect, aggressive. They are sometimes imbued with a primal magic of their own, derived from shamanistic rites, far removed from the sophistication of spells and incantations. They have fallen into myth, none have been sighted in civilized lands since the dawning of the age of men."

"They are very real," the Master replied. "They once inhabited the forests and mountains of our continent, but they were expelled centuries ago. In modern times, they persist where the land is remote and inhospitable, thriving where men dare not tread. Merchants and explorers have spoken of encountering them in this area," he added, pointing to another part of the yellowed map. "This is known as the great Coral Sea, and the ruined city lies on the far side of it. These accounts are old, ranging from decades to hundreds of years, and so it is difficult to predict exactly what you might encounter."