The Last Days of Magic

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley.”

Renques’ out-of-nowhere comment broke the silence that had consumed his party since they started making camp after a tiring day on horseback. He and his two travel companions, an old, grey-haired man in a dark surcoat and green cloak and a similarly dressed tall dark-haired boy in his mid-teens, had settled on a spot at the edge of a meadow that overlooked the valley they had been riding toward for the past eight days.

Renques took an apple from his saddlebag and paused from settling the horses to ponder the mist-covered canyon below them. In all his years of travel, he had never been to this place but had heard stories. Stories of an ugly, steep-walled gash called The Tear that cut across the countryside, spanning its misery for miles across and extending from north to south as far as the eye could see. It was said to be shrouded in a permanent mist that hid whatever was below and carried a foul odor that rose from its depths.

Renques was impressed by how well the descriptions matched the real thing.

“What are we doing here?” he thought to himself while taking a bite of his apple. “No one comes to this place. Ever.”

The old man, Mattieus, had refused to say anything other than they were to ride to the edge of The Tear and then follow it north. When Renques asked him how long this expedition would take, Mattieus would only say, “That’s to be seen.” It was a satisfactory enough answer for Renques. The old man was paying him well and he had nothing waiting for his return.

Renques was a tall, broad-shouldered man with lines on his face that betrayed his age as someone, “not old, but not young anymore”. He was dressed in black leather armor with a red four-pointed star on his chest. A longsword was strapped to his back with a short sword and dagger on his sides. Renques made for an imposing figure.

He assumed that’s why Mattieus had hired him.

That’s why everyone hired him.

He took the last bite of his apple and chucked the core into the dark gorge, watching it silently pierce the clouds and disappear into the mist. The swirling, pungent canyon smog brought back memories of childhood stories about dragons living in The Tear.

A strange distant rumble came up from the valley floor, causing an involuntary shiver in Renques. “No wonder people call this place cursed,” he thought to himself.

Mattieus, lost in thought while making their campfire, finally took notice of Renques’ original comment. “What’s that you say?” he asked without looking up.

“Dragons. They say there are dragons in the valley.”

“Dragons?”

“Yes.” Renques replied walking back toward camp, flailing his arms like a large awkward bird trying to take flight. “You know, winged lizard beasts. Breath of fire…”

The old man looked up at the swordsman and scowled.

“I KNOW WHAT DRAGONS ARE, RENQUES. What are you talking about - dragons in The Tear??”

Renques smiled to himself, taking enjoyment at how easy it was to get under the old man’s skin. He then noticed Mattieus' novice walking up carrying a bundle of sticks for the fire. The boy looked terrified.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Renques replied in an exaggerated whisper that steadily rose in volume, “It’s said dragons have taken home in The Tear. They hide in its mist - waiting for unsuspecting travelers - foolish boys and tired old men who pass too close to its edge. The dragons wait, quietly, like a cat stalking a helpless mouse - and then - ATTACK!”

Renques suddenly lunged at the boy, causing the novice to stumble backward and trip on a rock, sending his firewood flying in the air.

Renques roared with laughter.

“Enough, Renques! I didn’t hire you to give Tomas nightmares. Now fetch the food pack since you have nothing better to do.”

Still laughing, Renques stepped over to the novice and helped him up.

“Sorry about that, boy.” He brushed leaves and dirt off Tomas’ shoulders, giving him a friendly pat on the arm. He then whispered, “You have to admit, though, if there ever were a place hiding dragons,” he pointed down at the gorge, “that would be it.”

Tomas nodded in frightened agreement.

“You see, Tomas,” Renques continued, “educated people, like us, know dragons don’t really exist, but for simpler folk in these parts, dragons and ghouls and trolls are as real as wolves and bears. Shepherds once brought their flocks down to the pastures near here. Hunters and travelers passed through these lands all the time. But then things started happening. People disappearing. Entire flocks of sheep, gone without a trace. Stories were told of strange creatures coming up from The Tear - dragons and other dark monsters. In their minds, what other explanation could be? Now no one dares come near this place, other than smart folk, like ourselves. Isn’t that right, Mattieus?”

The old man ran his hands through what remained of his greying hair and frowned in frustration at the other two.

“Once again, Renques, I’m paying you for the weapon on your back, not the tongue in your mouth. Stop wagging it and get to work. And Tomas, you’re too old to be falling for his ghost stories. You’ll be taking midnight watch tonight.”

Renques glanced over at the frightened boy and suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. “I can take it, Mattieus."

“No, Tomas can do it. And that’s another thing, I am your employer, aren’t I? I do have a little thing called a ‘title’ you could be addressing me by, or if not that you could at least call me sir or esteemed elder or wizened aged one or something.”

“I’m not much into titles, old man, you know that,” Renques shot back.

“Oh, I do. I’m very aware. But you still wear the Star on your breast, so at least try to act somewhat to the standards of your former order.”

Renques went silent and gave Mattieus a wounded look. He handed his pile of sticks to Tomas and quietly went over to the horses to fetch their food pack.

Realizing his words had stung more than he had intended, Mattieus called after Renques.

“And ‘Old Man’ is fine, Renques. Just call me Old Man.”

**********************

After a simple meal of hard cheese, venison, and a half-loaf of bread that had gone stale two days earlier, everyone’s mood improved, their warm fire and what remained of the wine probably playing a part. Tomas was at the age though where he was constantly hungry, so even Renques’ jokes could only hold his attention for so long before his eyes would settle back on the quickly dwindling food pack.

“Don’t worry, Tomas,” a much cheerier Mattieus reassured the boy after catching his third glance at what remained of the food. “Tomorrow morning we finish what remains of these ‘provisions’, if you can still call them that, and after a day's ride we'll find ourselves a warm hearth, a hot meal, and for me and my old bones especially, a real bed.”

Renques perked up at this news. It was the first piece of new information since the beginning of their journey.

“So we reach our destination tomorrow?”

Mattieus stared into the fire.

“Mattieus? I mean, Old Man. Sir?”

“Just give me a second!” Mattieus snapped.

Renques and Tomas looked at each other, unsure what to do. Mattieus kept staring into the fire.

Finally, the old man broke his silence.

“I was going to wait until we reached Kai Valem tomorrow, but there’s really no point holding you in suspense until then. We’ve traveled far enough, and we’re well away now from unfriendly ears.”

Mattieus took a swig of wine and continued.

“Before I explain what we’re doing though, I think I need to give you some history. Tomas, some of this you may have learned in your studies. But, Renques, I don't know. What do you know of The Tear?”

“Oh, just stories," Renques replied. "Seems everyone has their own version. But the tales tell of angry gods who punished the world by cleaving it in two. Or sometimes about two greedy kings of old who couldn't share the world so they cut it in half. Tales you tell children.”

“Tales you tell children...” Mattieus paused on that thought. “It always amazes me how time can blur memories. I suppose when you’re dealing with memories so old and handed down one generation after another it's easy for the truth to become lost.”

Mattieus pulled a pipe from his robe and filled it with some pipeweed he kept in a weathered pouch hanging from his neck. After a couple of puffs, he settled back and began his story.

“The world was very different in the age before this one. Magic was a powerful tool back then. Much more powerful than the magic we know today. Magi kings and queens ruled the land, chosen and advised by a council of the wise, the Magus. It wasn’t a perfect system but its goal was always to strive for perfection - for the next generation to do better, and be better, than the last. But I imagine that even in bad times during that period life was still good. Powerful magic can make life very comfortable.”

“And that’s what happened. Comfort led to complacency. Complacency led to rot. Rot led to decay. The Magi Kings and the Magus had become corrupted by their own power. Magic was now being wielded not to care for the people, but control them.”

“Rebellion and war broke out. The Magus split into factions, each backing their own Kings and Queens to rule the world. Over time, two people arose from the chaos and claimed rival thrones. Two brothers, Candrius and Lotreyar. They were the most powerful magi of their age."

"And they hated each other.”

“The kingdom at that point was divided in two. Attempts were made to find some kind of workable peace, but nothing lasted. The brothers’ hatred was all-consuming and threw the land into a neverending war.

"Eventually, a new group arose from the Magus, a group who realized this hate between Candrius and Latreyar was so great it threatened to consume and destroy the world. A secret council was formed to, in essence, save us from annihilation."

"This council, by combining their knowledge and power, and through sheer desperation, tapped into a level of magic never before seen. They created a spell so powerful it would separate and imprison the brothers in an unbreakable charm. What they didn’t realize though was the brothers, both consumed with fear and paranoia of having their kingdoms taken away, had long ago weaved their own spells - spells that welded their very beings into the land. "

"When the council cast their spell it collided with the brothers' spells and created a destruction never before seen - the world was literally torn in two; Candrius and his kingdom on one side, Lotreyar and his on the other. The spell worked in that the brothers were thrown from power and imprisoned to never do harm again, but the world would also never be whole again."

"The Tear, where we sleep above tonight, is where the world broke.”

Mattieus leaned back again, took a puff of his pipe, and looked up at the stars.

“To think on the opposite side of this valley is a whole other world of people just like us, looking up at the same stars, unable to ever meet.”

Renques scoffed. “That story is less believable than the ones I heard as a child!”

“Yes, but this one is true," Mattieus replied giving Renques a severe look. "And there’s much more to tell but I’m tired so the remainder will have to wait.”

“But what does any of this have to do with our journey?” Tomas chimed in.

Mattieus and Renques both looked at Tomas in surprise. It was the first words out of his mouth the entire day.

“The boy speaks!” Renques responded as punched Tomas in the shoulder.

“Oh. Yes. I did promise you that, didn’t I?” Mattieus took another puff of his pipe and then tapped out the ashes.

“When The Tear happened so much magic was released that the power of the magi and magus was greatly reduced. Our order dwindled in power and size. And we were divided, philosophically, and now physically. There was fear that so much was lost in the event that we would never be able to find a way to undo what was done. Fortunately, though, we've always had the ability to communicate with each other across The Tear. So over the generations, we've been able to share knowledge. This has slowly given us hope in finding a way to mend the break in our world and make us whole again. Of course, though, with the good always comes the bad. Among us are those who still hold allegiance to the two brothers, and carry in their hearts the brothers' venom and hate. They have their own desires for the world, none which are good. This is why I had to keep our journey secret. It was just too dangerous. I’m sorry, I couldn't take the risk of uttering a single word of this plan until we were safely away. As I said earlier, too many unfriendly ears.”

Renques nodded, understanding. “But why? Why come here?” he asked.

“Because I’ve lost contact with my counterpart on the other side of The Tear.”

“I don’t understand,” Tomas said, surprising the other two again with his sudden verbosity.

“I don’t understand either, and it worries me." Mattieus answered. "That’s why we’re traveling to the village of Kai Valem tomorrow. There’s someone who lives there we need to see. Someone who knows The Tear better than anyone.”

“What do you mean?” Renques asked.

“She knows how to cross it.”