and the location where it would be held. He planned to go and told the old man so.
“I will see you there and you can recount to me your many successes, I hope.” Mellen waved to Benen as he left.
Feeling foolish for having ever thought coming to the capital would be of any use, Benen walked right out of the city and was glad to leave the place behind.
CHAPTER 2: HERO
Benen made his way to the clearing where he had first landed, just two days before. His plans had changed. Having met the people of the city and the king’s adviser, he knew now that the educated upper class of the capital were no less superstitious than the peasants from his village.
He understood that the problem was the image of the wizard in everyone’s mind. They saw him as a villain from stories told them as children. This image persisted in them still in adulthood, and wizards like Oster only made things worse.
Benen knew he had to act to change this. He needed to show everyone that wizards were not the child-eating villains they were painted to be. Only actions could change this.
He stayed the night in the clearing, working out the spell he would need in the morning. Once he was satisfied he had chosen the right constellations for the effect, he bedded down for the night on the ground itself.
Benen’s sleep was disturbed late in the night.
Something cold had touched his neck and sent waves of tingles down his spine. Benen woke immediately and rolled along the ground, away from whatever had touched him. He sprang to his feet and looked about, but saw nothing other than darkness before him. The moon was not in the sky and the night was black.
“Who’s there?” he demanded of the darkness.
A voice spoke, “Please, I don’t know what is happening . . . .” It sounded like a man but there was an eerie quality to the voice, it echoed tinnily, like the man was speaking into a metal bucket.
“Stay back, whatever you are,” Benen threatened.
“Can’t you see me? I feel so strange.”
“No, I can’t see you. What are you?”
“A man, like you.”
“You’re no ordinary man,” Benen disagreed.
“I think I was in a battle . . . did I die?”
Benen did not know the answer to that question for certain, but he was beginning to suspect the man had died.
“Do you remember anything about the battle?” he asked the disembodied voice.
“I had fallen in with a bad bunch. We were desperate, low on supplies. We attacked a caravan, a stronger one than we should have. I think I was about to kill someone, one of the drivers, and then everything became blurred and confusing like it is now.”
“Oh no . . . “ Benen knew then why he had been told not to kill with magic. This must be the result. Was the man a ghost then?
“I’m sorry to bother you, mister, but since the confusion started all I can think about is finding you. When I’m near you things are clearer. Is it okay if I stay here with you?”
There was a pathetic quality to the request.
How could I stop this creature from staying here, even if I did object to its presence?
“You can stay. I’m sorry to say that I do think you died in that battle.” Benen felt guilty for what he had done to the man. Killing him was one thing, he had been defending another’s life, but this half-life he had condemned the man to was another thing altogether.
“Were you at the battle? I’m not sure why I feel drawn to you.”
Benen hesitated to reveal his role in the man’s death. He feared the ghost would become angry and harm him somehow. He did not really know magic relating to spirits and ghosts. He wondered if this was a form magic governed by the constellations visible on the other side of the world.
“I was there,” he told the man. “What’s your name? I’m Benen.” He wanted to change the subject.
“My name is Timmon. Benen, I’m cold. Can you build a fire?”
“I doubt it would warm you,” Benen told the ghost, but he gathered wood together and set it
“I will see you there and you can recount to me your many successes, I hope.” Mellen waved to Benen as he left.
Feeling foolish for having ever thought coming to the capital would be of any use, Benen walked right out of the city and was glad to leave the place behind.
CHAPTER 2: HERO
Benen made his way to the clearing where he had first landed, just two days before. His plans had changed. Having met the people of the city and the king’s adviser, he knew now that the educated upper class of the capital were no less superstitious than the peasants from his village.
He understood that the problem was the image of the wizard in everyone’s mind. They saw him as a villain from stories told them as children. This image persisted in them still in adulthood, and wizards like Oster only made things worse.
Benen knew he had to act to change this. He needed to show everyone that wizards were not the child-eating villains they were painted to be. Only actions could change this.
He stayed the night in the clearing, working out the spell he would need in the morning. Once he was satisfied he had chosen the right constellations for the effect, he bedded down for the night on the ground itself.
Benen’s sleep was disturbed late in the night.
Something cold had touched his neck and sent waves of tingles down his spine. Benen woke immediately and rolled along the ground, away from whatever had touched him. He sprang to his feet and looked about, but saw nothing other than darkness before him. The moon was not in the sky and the night was black.
“Who’s there?” he demanded of the darkness.
A voice spoke, “Please, I don’t know what is happening . . . .” It sounded like a man but there was an eerie quality to the voice, it echoed tinnily, like the man was speaking into a metal bucket.
“Stay back, whatever you are,” Benen threatened.
“Can’t you see me? I feel so strange.”
“No, I can’t see you. What are you?”
“A man, like you.”
“You’re no ordinary man,” Benen disagreed.
“I think I was in a battle . . . did I die?”
Benen did not know the answer to that question for certain, but he was beginning to suspect the man had died.
“Do you remember anything about the battle?” he asked the disembodied voice.
“I had fallen in with a bad bunch. We were desperate, low on supplies. We attacked a caravan, a stronger one than we should have. I think I was about to kill someone, one of the drivers, and then everything became blurred and confusing like it is now.”
“Oh no . . . “ Benen knew then why he had been told not to kill with magic. This must be the result. Was the man a ghost then?
“I’m sorry to bother you, mister, but since the confusion started all I can think about is finding you. When I’m near you things are clearer. Is it okay if I stay here with you?”
There was a pathetic quality to the request.
How could I stop this creature from staying here, even if I did object to its presence?
“You can stay. I’m sorry to say that I do think you died in that battle.” Benen felt guilty for what he had done to the man. Killing him was one thing, he had been defending another’s life, but this half-life he had condemned the man to was another thing altogether.
“Were you at the battle? I’m not sure why I feel drawn to you.”
Benen hesitated to reveal his role in the man’s death. He feared the ghost would become angry and harm him somehow. He did not really know magic relating to spirits and ghosts. He wondered if this was a form magic governed by the constellations visible on the other side of the world.
“I was there,” he told the man. “What’s your name? I’m Benen.” He wanted to change the subject.
“My name is Timmon. Benen, I’m cold. Can you build a fire?”
“I doubt it would warm you,” Benen told the ghost, but he gathered wood together and set it
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