This is part 2 of the short story Tinkertown Sorcerer. To read part 1, go to the link below.
https://steemit.com/story/@qasim.haider/the-tinkertown-sorcerer-part-1
Tinkertown Sorcerer - Part 2
"I-I-I think you've got the wrong person. What would a posh lord want with me?"
"Well missy, if ya knew them posh lords and ladies better, you'd know they get pissed off easy. And ya sure were loud."
"But I was looking for my little sister, she's the only family I got." Seemi says with tears streaming down her eyes.
Both men, with daggers out walk slowly towards Seemi, who's helpless to run.
"Stop!"says a little voice behind the ruffians.
“Who’re you?” asks the bearded ruffian.
“I am Sitra, and that is my sis there. Please leave her alone.”
“Sitra! Run, they are dangerous!”
“What do we do?” the bearded ruffian asks his partner.
“We’re to bring her head to Saturday, but with this shrimp here, she’ll tell the others. Kill her, then kill her sister.”
“But she’s so small… Are you sure?”
“Did you forget about the money, that’s enough for drinks for next 10 years, are ya going to put that aside just because some little girly told ya so?”
“If you say so…” The bearded ruffian isn’t thoroughly convinced, but he’ll follow his partner nonetheless.
Meanwhile, Sitra sneaks to her sister while the ruffians discuss their fate. The scrawny ruffian notices Sitra, and lunges towards her. Sitra barely misses the dagger and runs to Seemi. The ruffians slowly close in, backing both sisters into a corner.
“Grab the woman.” the scrawny ruffians orders the other.
He grabs Seemi, and starts dragging her. Sitra tries to claw her hands into the man but to no avail. She cries, but only Seemi and the ruffians can hear her.
“We’ll make this painless, don’t ya worry missy.” says the scrawny ruffian menacingly.
The bearded ruffian holds Seemi, with a knife almost touching her throat, poised to slice it open.
Sitra is crying, huddled alone, in a corner, cursing her powerlessness. From depths beyond one’s consciousness, something emerges. An anomaly of sorts, one that will change a little girl’s destiny forever.
Sitra is silent, and her mind gets constantly bombarded with strange knowledge. Symbols, hieroglyphs, formulas. Things that she’s never seen before and it’s all in one big mess, and yet, it’s almost within her reach.
“DO IT!” shouts the scrawny man.
A dark foggy sphere emerges from behind, and slowly accelerates towards scrawny ruffian, who’s completely unaware. The sphere collides, and he lets out of a scream of pure agony, as his body begins to slowly merge with it and it disintegrates the man’s back.
Meanwhile, Sitra’s mind is elsewhere, and she finds herself alone in an empty and bleak land. The sky is grey, and the ground is grey and dead, with no signs of life as far as the eye can see. The air is dry and stagnant. It’s almost like she’s stuck in a painting. In front of Sitra is a glowing red orb. She makes her way to it, only to find out movement is difficult. It’s as if the earth is stopping her. An invisible force tries to grasp her legs, then her arms and finally her whole body. Sitra slows down to a crawl, and with all her might forces her weight against the earth. Sand is cutting through her knees, her body feeling pressure that threatens to crush her, but slowly, she closes in on the orb. It’s glowing bright and seems like velvet, and plasma seems to be flowing within it. Sitra extends her hand to reach it, and she can feel something crack in her arm against the force, but something within her is making her press forward. She isn’t able to think in this ordeal, but if she did, she would be shocked at her own resolve.
Sitra touches the orb, and a bright white light envelopes her. Overwhelming relief pulses through her body, and she finally remembers her sister. In front of her, she sees the two ruffians, and rage takes her. She raises her hands in the air, and chants an incantation in a foreign tongue with a voice quite not her own. Fire appears on her palms, and after a short delay, she casts a fireball the size of a football, and throws it at the scrawny ruffian, who’s already writhing in pain.
The fireball goes off-target completely, and singes a wall instead. Sitra comes back to her senses, her memory of the past few minutes shaky. A headache overtakes her, but she still manages to muster the strength to get up. The bearded ruffian makes a break for it, leaving his partner behind. He passes a thin man in a trench coat, who makes no attempt to stop him. Sitra goes over and hugs her sister, who’s in shock and completely silent.
The man slowly makes his way to the pair.
“You…” Sitra says, tensed.
“Yes, we meet again.” says Mr Masvidal, “great job with conjuring up that fireball. Casting a second level spell on your first attempt is no small feat yes.”
“What fireball? What do you mean?”
“Look there.” Mr Masvidal’s long bony finger points at the wall, scorched by the fireball. “Yes, you did that, child.”
“How?” Sitra looks at the wall in awe.
“Yes I sensed a trace of mana in you, dormant but still there. And your favorite act helped me activate that mana.”
Sitra eyes Mr Masvidal in disbelief, unable to comprehend his words.
He continues, “You like the Phoenix Lord, do you not? He is a powerful sorcerer, and his very presence exudes an unstable energy of sorts. And do you know, where these unstable energy traces are the most potent?
Sitra shrugs and says, “I dunno.”
“Upwards. And weren’t you standing up on the balcony yes?”
“Fix her immediately, I don’t want her to be taken away.” Seemi joins in, still shaken by the assault.
“Madam, there is nothing to worry about. Let me introduce myself. I am Joseph Masvidal, senior Runeology researcher at the Royal University of Runecraft and Sorcery. You have my word, that none will take your… uh…”
“Sister.”
“Yes, yes. Sister away. You have my word. It is for her own good, yes. You don’t want a power this great unchecked. Control, yes. Achieve control, that is after all, the purpose of human existence is it not?”
Silence.
After self-reflection, a wide-eyed Sitra asks Mr Masvidal, “Does that mean I can be like the Phoenix Lord?”
“Yes, to put it simply, yes. Of course. But you need to put in a lot of effort, and I mean a lot.”
Mr Masvidal extends his long arms to opposite ends to show Sitra an estimate of the gargantuan task she faces.
“Where do I start?” Sitra asks.
“Wait, Sitra, are you really doing this?” Seemi asks, worried.
“Yes! I really want to do this, Mimi!”
Seemi goes silent, and even more worried. She approaches Mr Masvidal, and kneels down and begs, “Please, good sir. Take care of my sister, she means the world to me. I wouldn’t be able to live without her.”
A smile appears on Mr Masvidal’s old face. “Please, stand up. You have my word. Yes, I will protect her with my life.”
Sitra, while bouncing up and down, asks, “Where do I start?”
Mr Masvidal brings out a card, and hands it to Sitra. “Use this to enter the library. Go, read and learn.”
“Learn what?”
“Everything on mana management and temporal displacement for now.”
Sitra dashes away to the library.
“It’s the other way!” Mr Masvidal shouts.
Sitra dashes the other way.
Both of them watch Sitra fade into the streets. Seemi turns to Masvidal, “Does she have what it takes?”
“Yes, it has to be her. She is destined for greatness, I assure you.”
Click the link below to read part 1
https://steemit.com/story/@qasim.haider/the-tinkertown-sorcerer-part-1