Sorcerer from Another World

He patted the woman's arm and let it go, “It is my sworn duty. Eat well, good folk. I bid you good day.” He walked across to us.

The villager folks puffed at their chest and stared at the back of the approaching man with eyes gleaming with admiration. 

A confident smile lit up his face, “You’re not from around here? What do they call you then?”

“Damian Gray.”

He gestured to his chest. “Galen.” He replied in a deep voice. “Welcome, Damian of the Grey’s.” 

“He is responsible for bringing back the survivor’s of Yolin’s Hill as well as Marius’ warband. Tara leads them now. Marius is dead I am afraid.” Said the warrior who had escorted us.

“It is sad news that he has passed. He was a fine leader and a skilful warrior. What took him?” asked Marius.

“A hag on the back of a chariot led by giant wolves. Cù-Sìth. She was at the lead of a fearsome band of them, ogres and redcaps. It was a fierce battle. It was close but we prevailed.” I passionately told our tale.

“Then you are most welcome to Ferisdarm. We are too short on warriors and all we have left is a single druid. We could do with someone who can overcome a Hag’s ire.” Galen proclaimed.

“Yes, Uncle, these are great tidings.” Said an armoured figure beside Galen. “If he speaks true.” 

She was younger, a teenager whose shoulders were still filling out, but she was tall and thin. Her hair was blond but cut short close to the skull. Further, her eyes were a green eerily similar to Morgana’s and her stare was just as steely. She may be young, but she had an undeniable strength to her. She taunted a sorcerer but remained calm.   

“This is Meredith. Daughter of my close friend Arthur and this rather awkward but niece to Lady Morgana of the Pendragon.” He nodded to Morgana with a cough. “She is a fine warrior and a cunning strategist. We have lived this long thanks to her, so please take no offence to her words.”

I stared at Morgana. I saw out of the corner of my eye, so did Iris.

“Hello, Galen.” She said then cleared her throat. “Fancy meeting you here.” She said with a blush.

“Is this true?” Meredith asked.

“I… Yes, I am Arthur’s sister. Though I have not seen him or Galen in a very long time. Not since they were as young as you are now and I younger still. It is not a big deal, I will be going now.” Morgana said her words stringing together till they were near monosyllabic.

She rushed off, leaving Meredith shocked and Galen bemused.

“I..” Iris said.

“Go, I will catch up later.” I told her.

She nodded and ran off after Morgana.

“Do we have a problem?” I asked plainly.

“No.” He then added. “Run along Meredith. Can you inform Bomdall of our new arrivals and our guests.” Galen said.

“Of course, Uncle.” She said with a troubled frown. She then bowed to me. “Good day, Sorcerer.” And walked off.

“There is no trouble between us, Sorcerer. Morgana is an old friend. A dear one from childhood. If you wish to learn more better, it comes from her lips than mine.” Galen explained.

“Agreed.”

“Time is short. What can you do and what do you want for it, Sorcerer?”  

Time to prove myself. The more indispensable I was seen to be the better. 

“I want somewhere where my companions and I can sleep and eat. I demand to be treated with the respect benefiting my station. Why? Because I can heal mortal wounds, slaughter Unseelie hordes and much, much more if I had the time to work. I can turn your group of brave warriors into the greatest fighting force this world has ever seen.”

I extended my hand. “A gift I can give right now, if you pass me your sword.” I promised.

“Here.” He answered without hesitation and drew his sword, and held the flat of the blade offering the hilt to my hand. 

I took the blade and swung it a few times. Twirling my fingers I spelled it to float and analysed it through magic. It was wrought of iron, it had been tempered and quenched. It was a superior weapon to all within the fort and far greater to the swords of bronze used by the Redcaps. It was thick with a large pommel but no guard to protect the hand between the sword and handle. 

Even a stainless steel kitchen knife would be a more effective blade. I conjured iron from bog, traces of tungsten, a chance of chromium: a weapon with greater than industrial grade durability and strength. I sharpened it till it would be capable of cutting through stone like butter.

I flipped the hovering sword over so he could grab it by the hilt, “Light, strong and durable. A sword of unparalleled quality.” I explained. He grasped it by the handle. He stared wide eyed at it like it was an early Christmas present.

He swung the blade to get a feel for the blade. He called a warrior forward and asked to test his blade. He shattered his warrior’s blade. Galen examined his new sword and found no mark along its length. “Apologise.” He said to the warrior. “I will pay for a replacement.”

“Thanks, my Chieftain. It was an honour to witness your might.”

“And the sorcerer's skill in metalcraft.” Galen added lightly.

“Indeed, I would give my firstborn daughter for such an heirloom.”

“Not your second?” I asked with a wink.

“Ha ha. Aye her too.” the warrior laughed jovially. 

I conjured a sword replacement in about a minute and gave it to the warrior, “It is not as fine as your chieftain’s, but it should suit as a replacement.”

The warrior eyed the blade much like a father looking at their newborn babe, “So when do you want to meet my daughters?”

I laughed lightly, “So, long as you do your work as a warrior using that sword they can marry as they please. Is that acceptable?”

He bowed, “I am grateful, sorcerer.”

I turned to address the Chieftain, “This is what I can do for you, Galen.”