Self-Made Barbarian

I squinted through the dusty air. If anyone had heard the avalanche of books I had just knocked over, they weren’t coming to see what it was. But then looking around at the seemingly random stacks of books in twisty piles that reached up to the ceiling, all of which were covered with a thick layer of dust, and not a few spider’s webs, left no doubt that I had wandered into a seldom-used section of the bookstore. Maybe book avalanches happened quite frequently here?

I had only brushed against a pile and it had acted like I had shoved it over in a fit of clumsy anger. This kind of thing happened to barbarians often enough that we had a reputation for not being careful. I was trying to be careful, but it had happened anyway. 

I looked at the flat, round, disk the bored-looking wizard at the front desk had given me and the shimmery arrow appeared once more pointing further into the maze of texts. I followed where it pointed, but had to turn and backtrack a couple of times to get around dead ends. The small medallion pointed to the book I wanted but didn’t tell me the best route. Just the direction.

I didn’t even know which book it was taking me to. That was part of the magic. They handed you a medallion and then it just knew the book you wanted to find. Some of the other kids in my barbarian clan said it was a trick. That the medallion really just detected how much silver you had in your pouch and pointed you at the most expensive book you could afford. 

But then, none of them could read. I was an unusual barbarian. I had come to the bookstore today to try and find a way to be better. Be a better barbarian. It seemed like a stretch, but the sign out front proclaimed they had self-help books for all classes.

The arrow began pointing more up that forward and I soon found myself at the base of one of the largest and dirtiest stacks in the bookstore. With the arrow just pointed up I would have to unstack the column to reach it. But when I lifted the highest book I could get a grip on, the tower tipped and a shower of books almost buried me. 

Books of all sizes fell. It was like being pelted with rocks except these all had squared edges that tried to dig into my flesh. I had been pelted with rocks on and off for most of my life. I knew to tuck in my chin, raised my arms over my head and wait for it to end. 

The arrow of the medallion spun and then settled. It pointed in a new direction and down. The book was here. I sifted through them and finally found a large bound tome. I brushed at the spine to uncover. “Idiots Guide to Becoming a First Level Wizard.”

I moved the medallion back and forth. It was clearly pointing at this book. This was ridiculous. Barbarians didn’t study magic. We didn’t become magic users. That was for scholar’s children or merchants with aspirations. Barbarians became fighters, sometimes thieves. Even clerics from time to time. But not magic users. Never wizards.

But this is the book I wanted. The medallion said so. I took it back through the maze and presented it and the medallion to the wizard at the desk. 

“27 silver.” He said. He checked his scroll again. “I didn’t know we even had one of these.”

I opened my pouch and poured the contents onto the counter. A sandwich, with only two bites taken. A scrap of parchment. A cool looking feather I kept as a trophy. And exactly 27 pieces of silver.

The wizards sniffed and then poked the coins out of my pile with the tip of his wand and I put the rest back into my pouch. Then I picked up the book. My book now. I just stood there looking at it.

I must have stood there too long because the wizard-librarian spoke to me. “Don’t worry. There is a path for everyone. Trust that you will figure it out as you make your way.”

I wondered what this meant on my way home. Was my path to become a wizard? If not, why had the medallion pointed out this book? 

“What’s with the book?” A voice from the ally said. One of the barbarians that lived near me stepped out and looked down at me. Just having this book might cause trouble with the clan. Was my path to get beaten up?

“I bought it, Zor,” I said.

“A book? Why do that?”

“From the bookstore. Have you never been?” 

Zor scratched his head. “Books make good fire.”

“No, I’m gonna read it.” I stepped away from Zor but bumped into someone behind me.

“Let’s burn the book and cook squirrel,” Shezara said. I hadn’t seen her come up and had bumped into her when I backed away from Zor. 

“It’s mine.” I tried to move around her but Zor stepped into the way. 

“Give book me,” Zor said holding out his hand. 

“No.”

Shezara punched the back of my head. Stars danced before my eyes. Zor got hold of the tome and tried to wrench it from my hands. 

I kicked him and managed to break free. Shezara lunged after me and I ran. Other barbarians laughed and yelled as we ran through the street. It took a bit but I eventually was able to double back and lose them. 

I ducked into my small hut and closed the woven reed door.

I placed the large book on my small rough-hewn table and just looked at it for a moment. In the dim stacks of the bookstore, I hadn’t noticed all of the symbols embossed on the cover. With my expectations of finding a book that would improve my life, I had gotten this one. It was time to open it and see what it had to offer.

I placed my hand on the cover and opened it. 

Or I tried to. The cover remained closed. I pulled and nothing happened. I tried to force one of my fingers between some pages, but they would not fit. I picked up the book and bit the corner. It didn’t’ even leave teeth marks. I slammed the book back down on the table and stared at it.

I looked at the cover more closely. The symbols might have been writing. But other than the spine, I didn’t recognize any of it. I examined the back and found another line of characters that I could read. It said, “Say, ‘Help me, please.’”

So I did. “Help me, please.”

The book cover popped open. A voice began speaking. It was confident. And a bit loud. Someone outside might hear and try to find out what I was doing. 

“Welcome to the Idiots Guide to Becoming a First Level Wizard. Learn the craft of crafting spells and enchantments to protect your friends and curse your enemies. Master the wisdom of the Seven Realms. Amaze your friends and family and become a leading member of parties and adventures.“

“Before we start, there are a few basics to understand. First, becoming a Magic-User is a great responsibility. You must maintain a position of aloofness while adventuring with other people who are not Magic-Users. They won’t understand the burden of power and responsibility you carry. Part of this is staying back and letting the fighters go first into danger. They will take damage, but from your position, you will be able to observe what attacks them and help to save the party, if not the fighters.”

I straightened up and tried to assume a pose of aloofness. I figured it probably looked like the way the nobles acted whenever they were in the market the same time I was. I tipped my face up to stick my nose in the air.

“Second, you must never pick up a bladed weapon longer than a short dagger. Not only will this keep you from being tempted to move to the front of the battle and engage with your enemies. But doing so will make you unable to cast spells. Maybe not the basic first level spells, but all spells of any consequence.”

Yikes. I was wearing a short sword. I took it off and placed it on the table. It felt strange to not have a weapon.

“You can only wear wizard robes or cloth armor. Dressing in the appropriate attire lets everyone know your position of importance. Wearing armor of any kind will prevent you from casting even the most basic spells.”

I pulled off my leather helmet and bracer and sat them on the table too. The cool air gave me goose bumps. If this continued I would be a naked wizard.

“Finally, you will spend much of your time in study and meditation. You must use part of your resting time to refresh your reserve of magic and practice spells that you wish to cast. Now that you know these facts. Say, ‘Help me.’ Three times to agree to the terms and invoke your talisman teacher to guide you through the training you will need. A full copy of the terms and conditions can be found on the last page of this book.”

I took the book and turned to the last page. The top of the page read, “Terms and Conditions.” But underneath were rows of tiny runes packed so closely together that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the next began. 

My head felt naked and my bare chest felt cold. I needed to find something that would work for wizard robes or I would be looking foolish wandering about in just a few skins around my loins. 

I dug through the small chest at the foot of my pallet and found an old dagger. I placed it on my belt where my sword had hung. It didn’t have the same weight, but it would help me not look completely unarmed among my peers. It probably wouldn’t do much to keep any serious assault at bay, but it seemed it would have to do.

It wasn’t too late. I could put my armor and sword back on. Tuck the book away and take the time to think about this. It was a big step. 

But Zor and Shezara had already seen me with the book. They wouldn’t keep quiet about it. I would have to explain why I had it if I wanted to keep it. 

This was not the kind of self-help that I had been hoping for. I had been hoping that I would find a book to help me get bigger, stronger, and able to pass the tests that would get me assigned to a raiding party. That was the way barbarians earned coin. 

But maybe there was another option open to me. If I could learn some magic, what would the clan do about it? My head spun with ideas of turning my enemies to stone with a single word and conjuring fine foods out of thin air. 

That might make me pretty popular with the clan elders. I just had to learn enough magic before Zor and Shezara found me and burned the book. If I was going to try it at all, I had to start now before it was too late.

And I could always change my mind. If I put back on armor and weapons later, who would have to know that I had ever tried to learn magic?

This was a step I was going to take. I stood tall, assuming a pose of aloofness again, even if the effect was ruined by my bare chest and head. Facing the book on the table I said. “Help me. Help me. Help me.”