The Magician

The city was dark at this time of day. The night faded slowly to give away to the rising sun that barely peaked over the horizon. Cloud covered the skies, and rain fell in torrents, keeping most of the city's citizens in their beds, including merchants. There would be no market today, and most shops would likely keep their doors shut until the weather cleared.

The Magician liked it that way. He strolled down the streets, his magic pulsed with the energy of the world around him like two hearts beating as one. As lightning flashed, the Magician smiled. Today would be the best day to call forth the dormant dragon beneath the streets.
Alacara, the once beautiful city he loved, was doomed to fall because of crime, greed, and envy. The dragon would know how to fix things. Perhaps it would help him make things right. The Magician was one man, but he hoped he could prevent its fall. But the signs of the Goddess Nexus were strong. Not even the storm clouds could hide them.

Soon, the dragon would rise, and hope would prevail.

Magic. For some, it was a wonder of the gods, but for the Magician, it was as regular and automatic as breathing. However, today was different. Though the storm raged through the city, mainly keeping everyone indoors, it didn't come from venturing out.

It didn't bother him. If anyone gave him trouble, he could take care of himself, but he hoped the city guard would ignore him. The dragon needed awakening, representing truth in a city that believed in conspiracies and lies. Even half the priests turned their backs on their chosen deities to only have their prayers answered by the dark Goddess of Strife and Lies.

So much turmoil in a city once grand and untouchable had brought it asunder with treachery and hate. The dragon would help. Yes, it had to.

"Where do you think you're going?"

A shout to his left stopped the Magician in his tracks. There was no time for idle chat, especially from one of the city guards, and he wasn't above doing what he needed to keep the man quiet.

"I'm just trying to get out of the rain. The storms are a force to be reckoned with," said the Magician.

"Aye. Not too many people are out, and the city's on alert for suspicious activity," said the guard.

The Magician looked over, his hood cast over his head to hide his face. "Is walking suspiciously nowadays?"

The guard stepped out from his cover to face the Magician. "In days like this, anyone could be up to no good."

"Oh, I'm sure there are some that are. I'm part of the guild." the Magician flashed his guild badge and a wand over a book and smiled at the guard's reaction. "Isn't a problem, guardsman?"

The man stepped back. "Nope, not at all."

"Good, I shall commend you to the guild for your outstanding services. A wizard's word is his promise."

The guard smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"Good day, guardsman." The Magician walked away, glad the event was over.

He got lucky. This guardsman was easily fooled and bribed with good words, but the city guard was far from being just. Many merchants and citizens had found themselves at the mercy of the court system because of them. The Magician could easily handle the city guard. Still, it worried him that they had become bold enough to stop a wizard in this city.

He sighed at the thought of the Conclave losing its power within the city walls. That would make life much more precarious if he couldn't summon the dragon. The Magician quickened his pace and turned right at another street. The sky poured its deluge upon the area, which he secretly hoped was a baptism of some sort. Anything to help purify the city and bring it to its once glory.

It was still morning when the Magician got to the city's center. For most citizens, this was the hub of everything that went on. These days, from the marketplace to judge the guilty, the perceived guilty. Crime was rampant, but the innocent saw the dark walls of the prisons and slave camps.

The Magician frowned. It didn't happen overnight or in the past year. He got an inkling of it a decade ago, but things were prosperous then, and most people shrugged it off as it didn't deal with them. At first, it was the elves that were targeted, and it was random violence and elven hate that seemed to grow. Soon, most elves returned to Elven Reach, while others stayed to fight the xenophobia sweeping Valter. Then, to be elven meant prison time. After that, they went after the half-elves.

Those of half-elven blood fought the hardest. Being parts of two worlds yet never accepted, either were savage in their protests. None, neither man nor woman, gave ground. They have the most to lose, and it was in them that the sparks of revolution grew. Because of them, the Magician could do what he needed to do.

The half-elves went underground and churned their rage into acts of power and change. They operated the networks that allowed rogue sorcerers to flee the city when they wielded their magic outside the confines of the King's Conclave of Wizards.

They gave him the charm to change his identity to appear human. He hated to do it, but it was the only way he could learn the magic to summon the dragon. He'd risk it all for his people and the good folk of this city.

He was close. The Magician let the city's energy vibrate within him and sensed the dragon's call. The storm only heightened the power, and the energy surged around him. Underneath the city, it dwelled, and he could feel it twist and turn in anticipation of its summoning.

If the gods were gracious, it would go off without a problem, but the Magician knew better. As he strode toward the city's center, a strange warmth overcame him, causing the Magician to stop. Danger! Glancing around, he saw no place to hide, which would prove futile. A trap? It couldn't be. No one knew what he did but himself, and he told no one.

Did a member of the conclave spy on him? Maybe they saw through his charm of changing. If so, it didn't bode well for his survival.
The rain fell in torrents, and water flowed through the streets as the Magician stepped into the town center. Figures in dark robes came out of the entryways. The trap was sprung, and he'd have no choice but to flee or fight; even running could cause death.

Gripping his staff, he let the magic flow to his fingertips, and the staff thrummed with life. He'd fight and send these dark wizards back where they came. Scanning the area, he saw five of them. It was ironic how the Conclave sent that many to bring him in. Of course, he doubted they were sent to make him come peacefully.
Ones like these were sent to complete a job, resulting in their prey's death. The Conclave was good at one thing: enforcing who practiced magic and who didn't. The king's executioners, or Spellguards as they're called. They had one job, kill those who practiced magic outside the confines of the law. That meant him.

"We've been waiting for you."

The Magician stopped and glanced around. "So I see. What's the reason for stopping me? As it can't be due to the weather."

"You've been practicing the arts outside the confines of the Conclave."

"Since when is studying strange things a crime? Isn't that what we do as wizards?"

One dark-robed figure stepped forward. "For humans, no, but you're not fully human, are you?"

There it was. His secret was out. The Magician paused and wondered how they could've known. His charm was perfect and undetectable unless someone or something tipped them off. Either way, he'd no longer deny it, nor would he allow them to stop them.

He clenched his hands and let his magic flow. "Since my secret is out, I think you'll be surprised how much power a half-elf like me has accumulated in such a short time in the Conclave."

"Elven blood! We'll wipe your stain from the city."

The Magician laughed, and as he did so, he let loose the spell that summoned the dragon. The city shook as the magic flowed from him, and the executioners fell to the ground. "It's a bit too late for your judgment."

One tried to rise, but the spell's power and the storm kept them all down. The magic flooded from the Magician as he shouted the spell's words into the air. Lightning flashed with every word and inflection of each syllable.

The dark wizards yelled in fury and pain as their bodies disintegrated to dust. Except for one. This one rose and faced the Magician, an evil grin on his face. "You will die for this."

The Magician drew his dagger. He used much of his power to release the dragon; all he could do was wait for it to wake and meek out its justice upon the city. The other wizard charged, his hands crackly with power. With a flick of his wrist, the Magician launched his dagger at the other.

The blade embedded itself in the man's chest, stopping him in his tracks. The wizard pulled out the dagger with a satisfying smile. "Is that the best you can do, Magician? Your spell doesn't seem to have much of an effect."

The Magician frowned. The other was right, and nothing happened. Doubt clouded his mind. What if he was wrong and his spell didn't work?
The rain slowed to a light mist, and the wind stilled. Both executioner and the Magician stood their ground, waiting for the other to move. The Magician remained and listened to the world around him. The quiet whisper of the air and the gentle thrum of the earth below him energized him.

 A spark of fire ignited from the fountain that stood in the center of the town. The water within it boiled and evaporated with an echoing hiss. As the mist parted, a lone figure stood wearing a robe of azure scales that sparkled like the twilight sky above.

"The dragon," whispered The Magician.

The king's executioner turned and ran toward the figure with his dagger raised. The new arrival lifted its arm, and the dark wizard froze. He began screaming as his snapping bones reached The Magician's ears. It seems the dragon truly has arrived.

Fear stabbed The Magician's heart as the broken executioner was tossed aside. The lone figure looked in his direction. "There will no longer be a need to hide who you are. Gather the others and retake your city."

With those words, the figure vanished as an enormous roar echoed through the city, shaking the building and rattling the ground.
Surrounded by the dead, The Magician turned on his heels and walked away. There was much work to do, and finding his contacts within the city would take greater care than usual. Now that the dragon was free, it would only be a matter of time before the true revolution started.

The evil in the city was great, but so was the hope that lay in the hearts of the good people of this city. One thing the Magician knew he couldn't do was return to the Conclave as if nothing had happened. He took precautions, but in the end, he was found out. The charm that hid his half-elven nature no longer worked, and he'd have to deal with that, but his confidence in handling this town's oppressors was more substantial.
The city had hope, and so did he.

~ The End

Thank you for reading my story. It takes place in the twilight world of Aria. Please give my story a life and a review so others can find it and get lost in a world of magic and imagination.