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Mage Dissolution
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MAGE
DISSOLUTION
Christopher George
Mage Dissolution 1st Edition
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Christopher George
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.
Cover design by Christopher George
Cover photography by Ian Harding Photography & Trace Hudson
Cover artwork by Megan Owenson
Editing by Lu Sexton – A Story to Tell
Typesetting by Odyssey Books
ISBN: 1537599526
ISBN-13: 978-1537599526
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Michelle Culling, my high school art and theatre teacher. School was never one of my favourite things in the world, in fact I was a lousy student until you found a way to get through to me. In going through my experiences in writing Mage Catalyst and reliving my own experiences in high school through Devon’s eyes it has become apparent to me that you are in no small part responsible for the person that I have become.
Thank you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book represents a turning point in my writing, when I had taken that foolish step into thinking that I knew what I was doing. I would like to especially acknowledge Rebecca Truong for her subtle (but effective) way of telling me that I was on the wrong path. The massive rewrite that you prompted changed the story and made it so much better than I had thought it could have been. Thank you.
I’d like to thank Ian Harding once again for his work on the cover. He must be getting sick of taking photos of various people’s hands by now. Megan Owenson for her digital work for the cover. You bring my characters to life in your artwork.
Also I’d like to thank Trace Hudson for his amazing photo of the Grand Teton Mountain Range that was used on the cover. You can check out more of his work at www.tracehudson.com.
To Rebecca and Imogen for once again being patient and understanding with me during this process.
Dissolution
/dɪsəˈluːʃ(ə)n/
The action of formally ending or dismissing an assembly, partnership or official body.
debauched living; dissipation.
PROLOGUE
Hatred is a poor pathway to power. It does not seem like it would be, but it is. Hatred leads only to stagnation and loss. I had thought myself all-powerful, but that was not the case. I was not stronger; I was simply out of control.
My name is Devon Wills and I have been consumed by my hatred. It burns like a fire within my mind and keeps me locked into the worst moments of my life. I see the death of my father every time I close my eyes. I feel bile rise in my throat as I again remember my helplessness over my inability to protect Allie.
I had thought that I could protect them from those who sought me harm. I knew that my actions would cost, yet I thought that I was somehow above the consequences. I was not. And those I loved were the ones who paid the price for my arrogance.
In a foolish move I attempted to use my hatred to make myself powerful enough to overcome my enemies, only to learn that there is a more powerful thing than hate – regret. Hatred is a shackle that binds you to the past. Regret destroys that past. Everything is tainted by your regret and your guilt until it is all you see. Every action you took, no matter how noble, is twisted into a parody of its former glory. My hatred changed me; then my regret destroyed me.
I cast aside the vows I’d sworn to hide the magic from the real world. I conducted a guerrilla war as I sought to punish those who had wronged me. Yes, I am guilty and perhaps tonight I shall pay the price.
I flex my fingers and feel the power arch across them. A small shiver of pleasure passes through me. This is the only thing that I can still feel. My eyes cast over the horizon and I feel nothing for my home. The light that once shone so brightly in my eyes has been dulled and the laugh in my voice quietened. I no longer care for those around me. I no longer feel empathy or joy, sorrow or grief. I simply am.
Enjoy what solace you find in this life, for it is fleeting. Treasure the time you share with your loved ones and remember it takes only but a moment of weakness before they are gone. There is no power on this earth that can stop it. We live in a lie. There is no safety and salvation for those we love. No, there is only eventual death and loss.
A spectacular explosion lights up the skies as a skyscraper comes tumbling to the ground. I notice it only as a passing interest. The noise is deafening and a wave of fresh smoke and dust washes over me like water. I can feel small shards of concrete and rubble impacting my shield. If I were a normal man, I would be dead now. But I am not a normal man. I am a Mage. Such a small thing could not bring me harm. I am above such things and yet here I stand on this building ready to face the one foe who could bring me death.
I do not need to name him; it must be obvious of whom I speak. I once called him Master and revered him. He appeared to be everything that I wanted for myself. So powerful and in control. He taught me what it meant to be strong. He put me on the path that led to this, and for that he shall be punished as I have been.
He is here, in this city. I have finally found him and I finally have the knowledge necessary to bring an end to him. I have broken every law our kind has to bring forth this confrontation. I have brought war and destruction to those I love to bring him down. Tonight I will end this.
Tonight Victor Whittlesea shall die or I will. This I swear. There is no escape. We pay for the injustice of our actions.
CHAPTER ONE
I glanced around the crowded barroom as I nursed a near empty glass. A large crowd of men appeared to be only seconds away from a riot as they watched the television in the corner. The TV had been muted but was broadcasting some sports event, soccer, I think. I’m not good with sports.
I wasn’t concerned by the impending uprising from the soccer hooligans. For one I knew it was just the way they were about their sports and secondly, I knew that I was by far the most dangerous person in this room.
I checked the clock. My target wasn’t here yet. I was in a small bar in Berlin. My travels had brought me here several weeks ago. It had taken me some time to locate this particular bar. A person who frequented it regularly was someone that I very much wanted to talk to. He was the final link in a long and arduous search. A search that I hoped was nearing completion. This man was going to lead me straight to my missing cousin, Allie, and my former Master. He didn’t know he was going to do these things yet, but he was. He wouldn’t have a choice.
I’d spent three years travelling from city to city, hunting for my cousin and the man who took her – Victor. I searched Singapore and found that Victor had already withdrawn his interests from that city. I futilely extended my search northwards into other Asian cities and deeper into mainland China. It was obvious though – he wasn’t in Asia. So I moved west and entered Europe.
I occasionally met others of my kind, but I kept my distance. Most nodded amicably and moved on, some I am sure would have reported my location instantly had they known who I was. I passed through towns as no more than a ghost, completely off the grid. I’d long since lost any form of identification or personal documents. I no longer needed such things.
I would do anything to release my cousin from Victor’s influence. I would kill this man if I had to, although I hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. I wasn’t squeamish about the killing, but it wouldn’t serve my ends and would create an unnecessary commotion. It was possible that I’d gr
own a touch callous.
I glanced around the bar again in frustration. He was late. Or maybe he wasn’t coming tonight. That had happened to me yesterday. If this was the case again, I would return tomorrow. It had taken me a long time to locate this man and I wasn’t going to return empty handed. He was one of Victor’s many accountants and I knew that he would know where my former Master could be found. If anyone could lead me to Victor it was this man. No, I wasn’t going to give up. I would return to this bar every night this month if I had to.
The bar tender nodded at me and pushed another drink in my direction. I reached down into my pockets and leaned back onto the stool. My fingers curled around a fifty Eurodollar note curled up into a tight roll in my right pocket. I closed my eyes and began to concentrate. The Mana flowed down my arms and into my other hand.
I knew that no one else would be able to see the Mana flowing down my arms in single particles of power, but I felt self-conscious none the less. It was an automatic response when I drew upon my power. The tingling down my arm indicated the Mana was performing its required task.
I hadn’t mastered this technique yet, but I was getting better. It was something that Victor had shown me once, and although I was nowhere near as proficient as he had been, I had gained a rudimentary understanding of the magic required. It had taken me some time to figure out the theory behind it and I had been quite amazed when I had first successfully completed the spell.
I gently crinkled the texture of the Eurodollar note between my fingers as I let the Mana do its work. I felt the familiar tingling in my left hand as the Mana reached completion. This wasn’t a basic technique, it required a lot of energy and concentration, and it still took me a lot of time. The bar tender coughed impatiently as he waited for me to produce payment.
He made some comment in German, which I grunted at and ignored. He obviously didn’t know that I could speak German. I must have screamed out-of-towner to him when I had first walked in the door yesterday. I didn’t mind – let him think me a tourist if he was going to remember me at all. Which I’d rather he didn’t.
Perhaps I was a tourist in some ways I had after all travelled across Asia and Europe in my search for Victor. The only counter to my frustration was that I discovered I had a gift for languages. I was able to lightly converse after a few weeks of exploring whatever country I travelled. This isn’t to say that I was fluent, but I could make myself be understood and could understand most of what was said to me. That was all that was important.
I chalked this new skill up to Victor’s teachings. I certainly hadn’t shown any aptitude for language in high school. Victor’s training regime had shown me how easy it was to teach yourself something new without guidance. Victor had shown me how to analyse a concept without applying my own prejudices, and to come to understand the truth of the concept quickly and easily. There wasn’t anything magical about this, it was simply a mindset that allowed a greater aptitude for learning. It was more a discipline than a trick and it had served me well over the past few years.
The bartender grunted impatiently, bringing me back to the present. I feigned trying to fetch a coin from within my pocket. In way this was kind of the truth, except that I wasn’t looking for payment. I was creating it.
I felt the usual feeling of release as the Mana completed its task and pulled a newly minted 50 Eurodollar bill from my left pocket and placed it on the bar. I flexed my fingers and released the original bill in my right pocket and leaned forward.
“Danke,” I muttered as I pulled the drink to my lips.
I’d pulled this trick more times than I could care to name. I’d probably slightly devalued whatever currency I was using several times over during my exploits, but I didn’t care. I hadn’t been caught out yet. It wasn’t likely that I was going to be either. The counterfeit currency that I was creating was identical to the original, right down to the serial number on the note. Almost impossible to identify as a fraud unless someone compared the two serial numbers, side by side. But that wasn’t very likely as I rarely needed to use more than one note at a time. I kept my original in a separate compartment in my wallet so that it didn’t get mixed up with any change. My expenses were minimal anyway and I had other ways of procuring what I needed if things got difficult. I could get by and that was all that was important. I had almost reached the point where I could do away with money entirely – almost.
I carried around a diamond worth approximately half a million dollars that been created by Victor without the need for a template, so I knew that it could be done. I had thought about off-loading it, but found that I didn’t want to part with it. I could of course have copied it, but I would have then had the same trouble offloading the copies. You can’t simply drop a diamond of that quality into a market without raising eyebrows. This was okay however as it wasn’t like I really needed the money. I could easily continue the way I was going, unless I needed to settle down and I wasn’t going to do that until I had dealt with Victor.
My former master had been able to create items from memory, but this feat was beyond my poor skills so far. It was a pity as this would have been incredibly handy. I still needed to be physically holding the item that I was attempting to clone. No doubt Victor would have claimed that this was a weakness caused by lack of understanding or discipline. I that didn’t bother me, I could perform the technique and I was getting quicker. That was all that mattered. Mastery would come in time.
When I had left Victor’s care in Singapore, I had taken with me enough field notes and journals to continue my training. I had not been lax in my studies and my powers had increased tenfold from where I had been when I had left Singapore. Although I had learned much, I knew that I still had far to go if I was going to seriously challenge Victor.
I didn’t make any long term plans or even contemplate what I would do after all this was over. I was starting to doubt that it would ever be over. I had a horrible thought that I would spend the rest of my life chasing Victor around the world until I finally died of old age.
* * * * * *
Teleportation allowed me to move freely without the need for mundane transport. If I wanted to be somewhere I could simply move myself there. There were issues though, Teleportation wasn’t easy and could be dangerous. I hadn’t experienced any problems so far, but the theories that I had learned from had warned of the dangers. There was the danger of accidently teleporting into a space that was currently occupied by another object. This would be resolved in the fatal way of atomic meshing. This charming phrase was used to describe the process of where the atomic components of both the teleporter and the teleportee were merged. This was almost always fatal.
Fortunately, this was an unlikely risk. The Teleport spell required you to be able to see where you were teleporting to and as you couldn’t usually see inside solid objects this was not often a problem. It could, of course, be done accidently by not scoping your jump properly. The real danger was merging with the ground upon which you’re standing. A few measly centimetres too low and you’ve lost most of your foot. Most Mages teleporting will allow a slight discrepancy in height and fall a few centimetres to the ground after the jump rather than risk becoming enmeshed with the ground.
The Scry spell greatly increased the range of teleportation as it allowed me to see a far greater distance than I would be have been able to do with my eyes alone. Teleporting across the use of a Scry thread was much more difficult, but far more useful. For one, it meant that mundane travel quickly became redundant. I could travel in a few seconds what would have taken me an hour by car. It was definitely worth the risk.
The first time I had attempted to teleport from a Scry spell I nearly bungled the effect. I was able to correct myself at the last minute, but I had no idea what would have happened if I had not been able to fix the problem. In all likelihood the thread would have collapsed and I would have remained where I was standing. That didn’t seem too bad. The other option was that some of my ‘corporeal matter�
� as the text books phrased it would have been transported and some would not have been. This would of course have resulted in the rather quick and messy death.
I had no wish to distribute my corporeal matter across the city so I was very careful with my experimentation. My first test via a Scry thread had been very simple. It had been from one room to an adjacent one. The distance didn’t really matter much though, it was more about the concept. The arrival room could have easily been on the other side of the city, but I wanted to be somewhere safe should something go wrong.
After several tentative tests I quickly became confident that I had the technique down. Once I had that confidence the next step was simple practice. As I used the technique more, I found that my range increased and I could teleport quicker. My limit at the moment was around fifty kilometres, but I was improving quickly. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I would be able to scry 100 kilometres in distance and then even perhaps a thousand.
I still wasn’t anywhere near as skilled as Victor who could teleport himself from Singapore to Melbourne - a distance of a little over six thousand kilometres. I had no idea if that was his maximum distance, but I doubted it. I was beginning to think that there was no upper limit to our abilities. Every time I thought I had reached the full extent of my powers I was forced to exceed them and found that my powers had increased.
This wasn’t the only thing that made me powerful though. The more I understood about a technique or theory that I was drawing upon the more I found that I could use less and less raw power to achieve the same effect. This in turn meant that when I did use more power the effect was greater.
I travelled alone for the most part of my search for Victor. Renee had expressed some reluctance in assisting me as she had no desire to face down her grandfather. She did assist me from time to time. She was able to still walk amongst our kind and was able to keep me abreast of what was going on in our world.