Ascendant

Days turned into weeks as Nym and Ciana settled into a new routine. He went into town a few times and subsequently learned that there was a whole section they hadn’t visited during their original trip. That was farther up the road and while there were only three homes there, all of them were for rich people and could easily house four or five families.

They stayed far away from that part of town at Ciana’s insistence. There was no reason to go that way and nothing good could come from it, according to her. Those people were always willing to use others to further their own agendas and just as willing to discard people once they’d squeezed them for all they were worth. Nym didn’t miss a note of bitterness in her voice when she lectured him on staying away from the rich side of town.

Nym didn’t see the harm, but it was what Ciana wanted, so when he went into town to run errands for her, he stuck to his business and didn’t go exploring. That did not stop trouble from finding him, as he found out soon after his first month living near the village of Palmara.

He walked out of the general store, carefully holding onto a large bag of onions he’d traded the owner three crabs for. The bag was Ciana’s and had a large hole near the bottom where a seam had split on the side, so he was using both hands to both hold it upright and keep the seam pinched closed. Consequently, he wasn’t paying as much attention as he could have been to his surroundings and practically bowled over a boy a year or two older than him who was about to enter the store.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Nym said, struggling to keep the onions in the bag. Two of them had already escaped and were rolling away down the road.

“Watch where you’re going, you idiot!” the other boy yelled as one of his friends reached down to help him to his feet.

“I said I was sorry,” Nym said, not looking at him as he hopped around trying to stop the rogue onions with his foot. He had a moment’s warning of magic stirring near him before something struck his back and sent him sprawling. Onions rolled everywhere where they weren’t pinned between his chest and the dirt.

“It’s a good look for you. A peasant rolling around in the dirt with some moldy vegetables. How appropriate.”

Nym rose back to his feet and spun to see the boy for the first time. He was dressed in nice clothes, clothes with no patches or holes, clothes that had buttons and buckles. He wore shoes, had a finely tooled leather belt circling his waist, and the glint of a pair of rings was visible on his finger. His friend, who Nym mentally downgraded to lackey, was dusting him off while he smirked at Nym.

More importantly, he had the same misty glow of magic around him that Nym had seen around the magister when he’d first washed ashore. Nym narrowed his eyes as he examined it. The power output was low, but given the speed the boy had generated the effect, that seemed about right. It looked something like his own telekinetic experiments, except instead of the magic molding around the object to hold it, it was just a flat square of force used to shove something.

“Ooooh, is that the new magic you learned?” the lackey said.

“A good debut for it, don’t you think?” the boy said back. “Putting a rude peasant back in his place.”

“Oh yeah, real fancy,” Nym said. “But I’m really interested in the magic you’re using to see where you’re going.”

“What would a peasant like you know about the noble art? And why would you think I need magic just to see?”

“No magic to see? I’m sorry, I just assumed. If it’s not magic, how do you see with your head so far up your own ass?”

The boy’s sneer transformed into red-faced rage in an instant and the glow of magic surrounded him again as he pulled in more power. This time Nym was ready for him though, and when the force shove came at him, he used his own magic to deflect it off to the side. The boy’s eye twitched as he stared at Nym.

“What’s wrong, Amos?” the lackey asked. “You’re not doing anything.”

“I’m doing magic, moron,” the boy snapped at him. “I just… It’s a new spell.”

Magic flared up around him again and another force shove flew from him to Nym. Nym knocked it aside again, this time at a downward angle so it tore up some dirt from the road. “Stop doing that.”

“What… how are you…” Amos trailed off, his brow furrowed. He eyed Nym, focusing on the tears in his clothes and giving a pointed look at his bare feet covered in dust. “There is no way you’re a mage.”

Nym shrugged. He’d already forged his conduit and filled his soul well with magic, so he reached out and telekinetically picked up eight of the onions. They floated through the air back into the holey sack. As they fell in, new ones rose up until he’d recovered everything that had fallen out when he’d been shoved.

“Not sure about being a mage. Just a thing I can do.” Nym was confused though. He could easily see the flow of magic around the other boy. He’d seen it on the magister too, on several occasions when he’d ran into the pretentious man while running errands for Ciana. It sounded like Amos couldn’t see the magic, maybe not even feel it. That meant he was at a severe disadvantage in a magical shoving match, since he wouldn’t be able to see what Nym was doing to counter it.

The smart thing to do was walk away and not antagonize Amos any further. Ciana had warned him specifically about not getting entangled with the rich folk from the far side of Palmara. He should just leave. But the other boy was a smarmy stuck-up jackass. So Nym made his own little force shove and used it to sweep Amos’s legs out from under him.

The rich kid went down onto his butt with a startled cry. Nym snickered and said, “Well, it was fun to meet you, but I’ve got stuff to do. Later, rich boy.”

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, you filthy peasant!” Amos screamed at him, scrambling back to his feet. Magic surged again and Amos flung out a powerful blast of telekinesis big enough to literally scoop Nym off his feet and hurl him forward. The boy was red-faced and panting from the effort, but he succeeded in knocking Nym over and spilling the onions again.

“Okay, look, this was a misunderstanding. I said I was sorry. We knocked each other down. I have to pick up my food again. Can we say we’re even now?” Nym said.

The sneer was back. “I don’t want to be even.”

The glow was getting stronger now, showing the same misty qualities that Magister Tormin had when he’d used his diagnostic spell on Nym. Whatever Amos was up to this time, it was going to be a lot stronger than a shoving spell. Of course, there were no adults around to stop him, which meant Nym had to fend for himself.

He had no idea what the other boy was planning, so it seemed like the best defense was a good offense. He reached into his own soul well, still filling rapidly from the conduit he’d forged, and let out a telekinetic wave of energy that arced out to strike Amos’s entire body. It didn’t make it half way before the rich kid struck.

A sudden spike of pain shot through Nym’s chest and he lost control of the telekinesis. He let out a strangled, hoarse cry that seemed to alarm the lackey and made Amos smirk with satisfaction. “What… what did you do?” Nym gasped out.

“What, you don’t know?” Amos asked in mock surprise. “Good. Magic isn’t for people like you. Go back to grubbing in your dirt, peasant.”

Nym’s vision started going dark, and he felt a foot press against his shoulder. It kicked him backwards and the laughter of the other two boys rang out as they walked over him. The last thing he saw was the lackey scooping up one of his onions to throw, then it struck him in the face and everything went black.

* * *

“Wow, you walked right into that, huh?” a girl’s voice said.

Nym groaned and rolled onto his back. There was a blurry person-shaped outline standing over him looking down. He blinked a few times and it resolved itself into a teenage girl dressed in the same style of simple clothing he was, although hers was hole-free and didn’t even have any patches.

“Here, let me help you up.”

She held out a hand and pulled him to his feet when he grabbed it. “Oof, heavier than you look. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got kicked by a horse,” Nym told her.

“I bet. You just stood there and let Amos hit you with an arcana injection. You’ll be fine tomorrow, I’m sure. But today is going to suck for you.”

“What’s an arcana injection?”

The girl just sighed. “Come on, pick up your onions and come with me. I’ll tell you all about how the world works, new kid.”

The girl led him between two huts and into a grassy field with a few trees scattered through it. “Here, have a seat,” she said, patting the ground next to her once she’d sat down.

Nym wasn’t sure what was going on, but his whole body hurt and his chest was worse. If for no other reason than he needed a bit to catch his breath before he started the walk home, he decided to stay.

“Good boy,” the girl said. “Let’s start with introductions. You’re the kid who washed up in Blood Fin Cove somehow right? The one who can’t remember anything?”

“That’s me,” Nym said slowly. He supposed it was a small village and they hadn’t made a secret out of it, so it made sense that people knew about him. At least, some people did. Amos didn’t seem to have any idea who he was, but then again, Nym doubted he cared about anything that didn’t involve him personally.

“Thought so. My name is Lathia, what’s yours?”

“Nym.”

“Nice to meet you. So like I was saying, you’re new here and looks like you can do some first circle magic. Most people can’t, but it’s not super uncommon or anything. What I’m saying is that there are other things that are way weirder about you, you know?”

“Uh… yeah. I guess?”

“Right, so what Amos did was prepared a needle of second circle arcana and when you opened your soul well to let the magic out, he jabbed it into you. Basically, he gave you a mild case of arcana poisoning by flooding your soul well with arcana you aren’t strong enough to handle,” Lathia explained.

“How did he know when to do that? It didn’t seem like he could tell when I was using my magic.”

“Well, obviously he cast an aura reading spell first. How else would you know when to use a disruption spell if you couldn’t see when your enemy’s soul well was vulnerable?”

Nym frowned and turned that thought over. If he was understanding Lathia right, that meant that most people couldn’t just see magic. They had to do something special, which gave them feedback that may or may not have been the same as what he saw. That meant he had an advantage next time.

It also raised a new question. If people couldn’t see magic without casting special spells to help them, why could he? And more importantly, was it a good idea to tell anybody, or should he keep it to himself?