The Onyx Throne - Book One

“We will start with teaching you how to sense your magic,” Revos said as they sat in their tent that evening. “Once you can feel the hum within yourself you can begin to draw upon it and channel it to make spells. We’ll also be able to see which types of mana you have access to.”

“Okay,” Mitchell said. “Sounds easy enough.”

Lethelin and Allora were scouting the area around the camp looking for something fresh for dinner and it was just Mitchell and Revos alone with the already slumbering clorvol.

“What is mana, anyway?”

“A simple question without an easy answer, I’m afraid.” Revos’s voice shifted into something a little more scholarly.

“Some believe it is energy left over from the formation of the universe. Others say it is the energy of life itself and, without it, we could not exist at all, that all of creation would be a barren void. One scholar postulated it was sexual energy exuded from the constant fornicating of all the creatures throughout all space and time. But, the short answer is we really don’t know. I don’t need to know where it comes from to utilize it, however.

“Fair enough, I guess. I don’t really understand how electricity works but I could use a light switch without any problems.”

Revos’s face looked puzzled for a moment as he tried to sort out the meaning of the words coming through the translation spell and apparently decided it was unimportant and didn’t comment. The spell was amazing but it wasn’t perfect.

“Close your eyes. Focus your attention inward. Most people find that they feel their mana most quickly when they focus on their chest, so we will begin there.”

Mitchell did as instructed and closed his eyes, then took a few deep breaths trying to center himself. He tried to block out the sounds of the wind moving across the dunes and focus on his breathing. His ex-girlfriend had been into yoga and meditation he still remembered the basics but he hadn’t meditated since they broke up. As ideas entered his consciousness, he noticed his mind wandering, filling with random thoughts. He noted them before pushing them aside, focusing back on his breath and feeling where it originated in his chest.

After five or ten minutes he felt his mind go, if not quiet, then at least distant. He could still discern the thoughts in the background but it was almost as if they belonged to someone else. He felt the rise and fall of his chest, deep and even, and his body begin to relax. In the silence between the hot gusts of wind blowing over the parched landscape, he imagined he could hear his heart beating in his ears.

Then suddenly he felt it. There was a vibration somewhere in his chest. Between breaths, between the beating of his heart, and in the stillness of the desert, he felt it. Something inside him that he had never experienced before. It was… alive! It startled him so much that it completely broke him out of his meditation.

“Oh shit!” Mitchell exclaimed as his eyes shot open. “I felt it! I have magic!”

Mitchell had seen evidence of his magical abilities before when Allora had applied the mage catchers. He’d believed her but he hadn’t actually felt it! It was like this living pool of something dynamic and new and vibrant residing inside his own body.

He looked up at Revos who looked mildly surprised.

“That was quick. Normally it takes students an hour or more of focus before they can feel their mana pool.”

“I used to meditate back home. Not for a couple of years, but I have a little bit of practice.”

“I’m not sure why thinking on it would be beneficial, but either way, this will speed things up nicely.”

“No, it’s… Never mind. So, what do I do?” He was dying to get started.

“Find your mana pool again. It needs to become automatic. You have to be able to reach for your mana pool and manipulate it without hesitation. In this moment, you were not distracted. No one was attacking you or trying to run you through with a blade. You need to be able to seize your mana without fail every time. Now start again."

Mitchell settled in and started over. He found the mana a little quicker this time. He was able to get a better sense of it with a little bit of practice. It was in his chest but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it might be. He couldn’t feel his lungs or his liver but he could feel this presence somewhere inside him.

Revos seemed to be able to sense when he’d found it and every time they would begin again. This went on for a good half an hour and then Revos changed up the routine. Just as Mitchell was about to locate that vibration inside of himself Revos would poke him with a sharp stick, or flick him on the forehead. He’d pinch his arm or leg and he had claws! As the lesson progressed Revos left him with welts and scratches, some of which drew blood. By the end of the hour, Mitchell could no longer control his temper.

“That hurt, you big red son of a bitch!” Mitchell yelled as he held up the collar of his shirt to his ear where Revos had driven the tip of a claw almost clear through his earlobe. There was a decent amount of blood. “Fuck!”

Mitchell got up, fuming, and went over to the barrel they’d repurposed for washing. He cleaned the blood off his neck and ear, ignoring the sting. Revos joined him.

“And what if it wasn’t the tip of my claw but a knife in your leg or a sword through your stomach? Could you call on your mana then? Could you channel the spell that could save your life or that of your companions? Because that might determine if you live or die.”

“Is this how you teach people in this world? Stab them until they figure it out?”

“Eventually,” Revos explained, not at all sympathetic to the series of scratches and welts that were visible on Mitchell’s arms, legs, neck, and face. “Most children who can channel are identified early on and they have a few years of training to prepare. The first few months are usually devoted just to learning to sense your mana. First, through questing as you have already done, then while doing daily tasks of ever-increasing complexity. Walking around, eating, and exercising, for example. Then, mental challenges are brought in. Only when they’ve mastered all of that is pain introduced into the training. Not all continue past that point. You don’t have that luxury. You need to learn faster if you are to survive.”

Mitchell wanted to argue but knew that the demonic bastard was right.

“Fine,” Mitchell said, grudgingly. “But can you heal this so the blood stops dripping down my neck?”

Revos leaned down and examined the small wound more closely then said, “No. Not until the session is complete. The distraction will be useful.”

When Allora and Lethelin finally returned they found Mitchell nursing a black eye and Revos with a busted lip and they were glaring at each other from opposite sides of the tent.

Allora immediately went to Mitchell to check on him and Lethelin just grinned.

“Stolar’s swinging cock, I always miss the good stuff,” the red-headed thief said before chuckling to herself and heading off to skin the few kren that they’d managed to bag. Mitchell had noted the small animals long ago and they were a little similar to rabbits back on earth except for shorter ears and a much longer tail. They were pretty tasty, also.

As Allora began to heal all of his minor injuries, she asked, “I am guessing you found your mana.”

Mitchell broke his glare away from Revos and looked up at the elfin warrior. She was grinning, too.

“God damn it,” Mitchell mumbled to himself. Allora chose not to comment further.

*****

“Svabol batabot?”

That was easy enough. What’s that?

Lethelin was pointing at the ocean of sand off of the side of the wagon. Sand. He had to answer in their language though. Sand was…

“Inik!”

Lethelin gave him a warm smile. It was her turn to quiz him and he found her a much more patient tutor than Allora who was harsher when he made a mistake. Lethelin said it was because the elf had been raised by Onyx Knights and they were infamous for their rigorous and exacting standards. Despite how much he enjoyed the one-on-one time with Allora, he found himself tensing up when she sat with him. She kept a running tally of his screw-ups when they studied together and when they stopped for the night he was put through one extra minute of calisthenics for every mistake. And this was on top of the normal physical routine that she’d begun running him through. Lethelin only thumped him on the forehead.

It was the second day after waking up with the heart stone in his chest and Revos had said he expected to come across a road soon. Once they found a road, a town wouldn’t be far off. From the time he woke up until the time he collapsed into his bedroll, he was studying something. Whether it was magic with Revos or Allora, sword forms with just Allora or language with Allora and Lethelin (Revos had flatly refused, saying it was beneath him), he hardly had a moment to himself. Even when he went off behind a rock to relieve himself, someone would shout a question at him which demanded a reply.

“Make a sentence,” Lethelin said. Only she didn’t say that in English, she actually said ‘urwek vi lex’. Still, after near constant instruction, he found his vocabulary was increasing enough that he understood her. At least with the basic things.

“Inik ui… rhee.”

Lethelin smirked and said something of which he only caught the word for eat.

“What?”

Allora spoke up from the front of the wagon where she rode shotgun with Revos.

“You said the word for sweet. Sand is sweet.”

Mitchell winced and leaned forward without being told. Might as well get it over with. Lethelin flicked him right in the center of his forehead.

“Again,” she commanded, clearly loving that she got to thump the future monarch of Awenor on the head.

Mitchell leaned back, determined not to rub the tender spot between his eyes, and tried to recall a word that would make sense in a sentence.

“Inik ui… tish?”

The sand is dry. He hoped.

Lethelin’s jade eyes sparkled and she nodded.

“Good.”

*****

As Mitchell spat out a mouthful of sand, he reflected that it was most definitely not sweet.

“Why (something) ground?” Allora asked him, her voice tight, as she spoke in her still-unfamiliar language.

“Because my feet got tangled up,” Mitchell said, trying not to snap at the woman holding the long wooden stave. She was quite adept at hitting him where it would hurt the most. Without proper practice swords, they had opted to repurpose some of the wood from the cart and make crude swords out of them. Allora said that once they reached a town they could either buy some or have them made.

“In common,” she said in her own tongue.

Mitchell groaned as he picked himself up, his body feeling like one big bruise. Trying unsuccessfully to clear out the last bit of sand from his mouth, he fought to remember the words he needed.

“Tagoa…” Mitchell paused and looked nervously at Allora’s scowling face. He didn’t know the word for tangled in their language.

“Tagoa uraci?” he said, uncertain. Because feet.

Mitchell braced for the inevitable sting of her practice sword as she found fault with his language but it didn’t come. He must have gotten it right. Instead, she lowered her stave down to her foot and tapped lightly just behind her toes.

“Keep your weight on the ball of your feet, not your heel.”

Mitchell nodded his understanding.

“Good. Again.”

*****

By the time Mitchell and the others reached the road five days later, he was almost wishing for the cages again. Every day followed the same routine. Time spent on the wagon was time spent picking up what language he could. Mitchell would have liked some paper to write things down on as he was sure if he could start making lists to review he would learn faster, but they told him that would need to wait until they came across a town.

Once they stopped for the night, it was magic practice with Revos and then sword practice with Allora, then a quick meal, then sleep.

What surprised him is that he didn’t wake up sore each day. Well, not much, anyway. Sore by the end of it, for sure. But not in the morning. Allora did not go easy on him and his workouts and sword practice were as intense as any CrossFit program he’d ever seen, but he was only mildly achy when he awoke.

He commented on it once to Allora and she said it was a property of the heart stone. It strengthened his body so that he could withstand the power Awen would bestow upon him once they were fully bonded. He would heal faster, recover quicker, not get tired as easily, and his mana reserves would increase faster as well. In addition, the effects would be magnified once they were in Awenor. In Iletish, so far from Awen’s power, she had no connection to him. But once Mitchell got on Awenorian soil, he would become even stronger. Mitchell liked the sound of that.

“That’s the Diran Road, I believe,” Revos called down from the driver’s seat.

Allora, who’d been dozing as she and Mitchell had taken a break from his language teaching, stood up and looked past Revos to the road that was just barely visible past some small dunes. She could make out a trade caravan off in the distance heading west. Beside her, she felt Mitchell rise and look out as well. Lethelin, napping against one wall, didn’t stir.

“Are you sure?” Allora asked him. “We can follow that straight to the Skybreaker Peaks.”

“Ivaran had been traveling southwest the entire time, cutting across the country to avoid patrols. We’ve been going directly north for five days now and the Diran Road cuts straight across Iletish as an arrow fired from a bow. I think it’s a good bet. I’d be surprised if we were more than a day or two from the next town. Maybe Besai. There’s an excellent bathhouse in Basai.”

Allora smiled and almost groaned at the idea of a bath. Finally some good news. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she turned to where Mitchell stood behind her, studying the landscape. She pointed to the road.

“Donap,” she said. Then she traced her finger along the path. “Diran Donap”.

“Donap,” he said. Then repeated what was presumably the same word in his language. It sounded to her ears like he said ‘ro-uud’ but she nodded anyway, assuming he understood her.

A day, maybe two, and they would have a bath, a bed, and some decent food. Finally.