The Shadow Behind the Light

TW: descriptions of violence

The sparks flew through the air, arousing a chorus of awe from the small crowd gathered around the traveling caravan.

“For this next part, I’d advise those too close to the front to please take a step back!” The man boomed, a wide smile plastered on his face as his grimoire, a rich dark leather book with jewels encrusted all over, zipped around him excitedly.

The crowd chattered, and obliged, the children in front being pulled back by their parents in order to avoid whatever came next.

“Now, as you have seen, fire is my specialty correct?” he said, and he waved his hand from one hip to the other in a wide, upwards arc, fire spraying through the air. The children gasped and laughed with glee, as the parents cooed and murmured amongst themselves.

The man, a thin human with a shock of red curly hair, smiled wider then, and said, “But, have you ever seen anything like this?”

He repeated the same motion as before, and as the fire licked up into the sky, the man brought his hand up and clenched his fist. The fire coalesced into five tight balls of raging flame, and as it swirled, the man snapped his fingers twice.

The balls of fire snapped like bubbles, and from within, butterflies of a fiery visage flew out.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, and some of the children reached up to try and touch the fiery butterflies as they lazily floated about.

“But that’s not all!” the man boomed, and he snapped his fingers again. The butterflies morphed, twisting into themselves and then they burst outwards in a gentle spray of water, peppering the crowd with cool kisses under the blistering sun.

They shrieked, surprised by the sudden coolness, but just as soon as they did they were cheering the man on as he bowed. People came forward and tossed numerous coins in a basket the man held out as he thanked them profusely.

A young girl walked up and dropped a copper piece in and excitedly asked, “How’d you do that, mister?”

“With the power of my grimoire of course!” the man said, and the leather tome floated before him. It twirled in the air before him, and the young girl smiled wide with glittering eyes. “These mystical tomes allow anyone who bonds with them to cast magic!”

“Where can I get one?” another child asked excitedly, coming up just behind the young girl and nearly knocking her over.

“You have to be chosen of course! Not just everyone can get a grimoire, you know,” the man said.

An older man who was standing off to the side with some other parents spoke up then, skepticism painting his voice, “Don’t ya have to be a part of the Archivists whosits? ‘Else you’re a-a tickin’ time bomb waitin’ to happen?”

Murmurs echoed through the crowd, and some of the parents pulled their children closer to them.

“No no, that’s not true! I was specially chosen by my grimoire, and though, you know, most grimoires are under the Archivist’s control, there are some special ones out there that choose you,” the man said smoothly, and he waved his hand. “Besides, you just need to have the book registered, and mine is registered with them as the Crowned Jewel!”

He thrust out his hand and faux glittering gems flew through the air, dissipating into a rainbow of dust that rained down on the crowd harmlessly.

This seemed to appease them, as the old man nodded his head sagely.

“With that, I shall bid you all farewell, but please, do not ever forget the name, Fig, the Fantastic!” the man said, once more throwing his hands up and summoning sparks of fire.

The crowd cheered, and a few stragglers tossed Fig a few more coins.

He did get caught up with a few more children wanting his attention, but he snapped his fingers three times in quick succession for his grimoire to land safely into his open hand. Smoothly, the man clipped it back into a shiny and bright book holster at his side so that he could speak animatedly with the children.

From inside the caravan, another sighed, and finally left the filtered window to lean back into his chair.

“Thank the gods that I’m not the one out there,” he said, reaching his hands up as a dark purple leather grimoire floated gently down, its pages flung open and the ancient arcane sigils upon it glowing.

He grasped the tome and laid it in his lap, twirling a long strand of white hair and flipping through the pages. Most pages held spells he had yet to decipher, though more precisely, they held spells that his grimoire had yet to reveal to him.

Further on, he could read nearly perfectly the spells that he had borrowed months ago, curious as to how they still remained despite grimoires eventually forgetting borrowed spells after a week maximum.

The door to the caravan opened, and from there Fig was yelling to their cart driver to get on the road, before he shut the door and leaned against it.

Fig sighed, but then perked up and looked over at his companion and smiled wide at him.

“You’re really somethin’ Ludari,” he said, pushing off the door and unhooking his grimoire to throw onto the table. The caravan began to move, the rumbling of the road quickly smoothing out into the background. “I thought you wouldn’t have been able to keep up but you played your part beautifully! I could kiss ya!”

“Please don’t,” Ludari said, and then shrugged. “We just did it like we practiced. Even if there were a few surprises, it was still easy enough to keep up with.”

“But still! If I didn’t know any better than myself, I would’ve really thought the Crowned Jewel was makin’ me magical,” Fig said with a boisterous laugh. He dropped himself on the plush chair across from Ludari and pointed to him. “You could’ve easily been an Archivist. Why are ya here with me instead?”

Ludari turned to look out the window. “I told you. I want to practice with my grimoire without being anywhere near the center of attention. Being an Archivist would be too much.”

Fig hummed at that.

“You are the quiet type...But I suppose I am happy that you are here with me instead of being some great magus out there. Easiest coins of my life!” Fig laughed once again.

Ludari didn’t respond, but kept his gaze out the window at the rolling countryside, hand placed atop his grimoire’s cover and feeling an odd, comforting warmth radiating there.

~~~

They need to swing through an Archivist’s Guild location to resupply.

While Fig attended to their general supplies, Ludari pulled up his hood and tightened his cloak around himself to hide his grimoire.

He weaved through the crowds, keeping his eyes down to avoid meeting any of the town folk’s gaze. He knew the path he needed to take, as he’s worn it well to get to what he needed when they’ve come through Millborough.

Ludari arrived at the town center, and standing tall was one of the Archivist’s Guild. It was a rather simple building, two stories tall with large windows. The slanted roof boasted a dark flag with the Guild’s sigil emblazoned on it in silver.

People wove in and out of the building, with most being Archivists who wore their signature black robes with silver trimming. Most were too occupied, rushing here and there with their thoughts whizzing amongst the clouds.

Ludari’s eye caught on a halfling with short, cropped brown hair stood in front of the building, gaze distant as they seemed to speak to themselves. Their mouse-like ears twitched, and the sun caught the glint of an earring.

The other Archivist’s around paid them no mind, and soon, the halfling’s gaze snapped away. They staggered a few steps, before disappearing into the crowd.

Curiously, Ludari watched them go and paid the Guild one final look, before he walked past it in the direction of the residential district.

~~~

“You know, I wish you would visit or write to me more often,” Taea said, flicking a finger to ignite the wood in the stove. Upon the burner tops, she set a full tea kettle and then turned to Ludari with a calculating frown, her spaded tail flicking agitatedly behind her as she crossed her lavender arms across her chest. “You only ever speak to me when you want to learn more spells.”

“And you know I am trying to keep a low profile,” Ludari retorted, dropping his hood as he sat down at the table in his friend’s home.

“Does that mean you can’t send a letter?” Taea asked drily, and upon Ludari’s drier look, she huffed and flung her hands up. 

“Fine, fine, but that just means you need to catch me up on your travels and your studies with your weird grimoire…” she smirked, “And maybe even your love life.”

Ludari rolled his eyes. “You also know I have no time for that.”

Her face softened, and her dark eyes seemed to peer deep into Ludari’s soul. “And I know you say you don’t have time for anything as frivolous as friendship, but I also know how it affects you.”

“I’ve got you.”

“And while I’m happy to have a quiet grump like you as a best friend,” Taea said and came around to put a hand on his shoulder. “I worry that you get lonely on the road.”

“Just…let’s drop it, okay? Fig is going to finish up soon and we need to get back on the road,” Ludari said, shaking off her hand.

Taea frowned, quiet for a second, before she dropped her hand and sighed.

“Fine. Let me go see what I have,” she said, and she disappeared out of the kitchen.

Like clockwork, though distracted, Ludari pulled out his coin pouch and counted out 200 goldsworth of coins.

Friends were distractions. Taea, the only friend he’s ever made in his life, would drop him if he didn’t bring in good coin for the work he has her do, considering it could potentially forfeit her job as an Archivist.

Taea soon came out with three grimoires tucked under her arm, each a different color and with different exterior decorations.

She set them in front of Ludari and smoothly pocketed the coins.

“You know the drill, quickly now-”

The two jumped as the tea kettle began to scream, and Taea cursed as she rushed over to turn the heat down.

She pointed behind her back at the three grimoires and said, “Ice aspected, divination, and then telekinesis.”

Ludari looked at them all with interest; he could only study one for now, especially in such a short amount of time.

His hand had begun to reach towards the divination grimoire in the center, when a scream rang from outside.

Taea jerked her head up and frowned, throwing back her Archivist’s cloak to ready her grimoire.

She looked at Ludari and said, “Stay in here, stay safe, and wait for me to come back.”

Without saying another word, she dashed out the door and Ludari watched her go. Brow furrowed, he turned back to the grimoires.

Taea could handle herself. Even before getting her own grimoire, a feisty one called Pyris, she was one to get into fist fights with anyone who messed with her or Ludari.

From outside, Ludari could hear the roar of fire and the hissing of a beast.

An Afflicted.

Taea could handle herself.

And yet, Ludari was already unclipping his grimoire and setting it directly next to the ice-aspected grimoire, its surface partially encrusted with icy crystals.

Ludari closed his eyes and focused on his grimoire, pushing aside all other thoughts whirling around his head until he could only see his grimoire in an expanse of black.

Its shape expanded and morphed, until the vague outline of a person twice Ludari’s size stood before him in long, featureless robes. The person had a mop of blonde messy hair, and though Ludari could not see their face, he knew that they meant him no harm.

Aquila, his grimoire, given humanoid form.

Ludari focused more until a new sphere joined in his mind’s space. Its aura was a light blue, and misty smoke rolled off of it in waves.

Aquila reached a hand out towards Ludari who took the warm, familiar hand, and watched as Aquila reached out to make contact with the aura.

A pang hit his head, and though it flared incredibly painful for a second, it subsided just as quickly. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Aquila opened up to a new page, and from what his eyes could translate he could read some new minor ice related spells. His eye caught on the beginning of one that seemed much stronger than anything he’s casted before.

Another scream echoed from outside, followed by the sound of a crash.

Ludari flung his hand up and his grimoire rose, his fingertips beginning to ice over with a thin sheen of frost.

Then, he promptly dashed out the side door of Taea’s home.

~~~

Errant fires burned across the cobbled streets, eating up the weeds that grew between the cracks and scorching the worn stones.

Several bodies laid on the ground, motionless, and burned to crisps, less the Affliction claims more lives through their animation.

Taea stood strong, chest heaving and her hand covered in blisters as she kept it raised in front of her. Pyris floated behind her, the runes pulsing red. She was covered in cuts and bruises, blood slipping down her forehead and staining her loose white hair pink.

A furry, black creature hissed at her from across the road, its beady eyes a wild red and its teeth gnashing like a rabid rat. It was hunched over on all fours, and melded onto its chest was a brown grimoire, thick veins connecting it to the creature. A thick tail swept out behind it, kicking up dirt and slapping the ground agitatedly as smoke lifted from its singed fur.

“I pity you for succumbing to the Affliction,” Taea huffed, wiping away blood from her nose. “But your rampage ends now!”

She summoned a ball of flame to her palm, and reeled back to pitch it towards the creature. The fire bolt zipped towards the creature and seared its ear, catching on a gold earring and causing it to shriek and paw it off till it clattered to the ground with a clank. It snarled again, and began to charge at Taea, claws scraping against the stones.

She grunted and lifted both hands to summon a small shield of flame, only for the creature to pierce through it and claw the front of her chest.

Taea screamed, but managed to push the creature away with a fiery fist and she jumped back, panting and pressing a hand to her bleeding chest.

It stung, and she was running out of options. No other magus had come to assist and there were still terrified civilians waiting on the sidelines, mouths agape in horror watching the carnage before them.

There was no other choice.

Taea clenched her fist, and Pyris’ pages began to rapidly fly open as Taea felt her insides begin to burn.

The creature shrieked, and just as Taea raised her clenched fist up, a line of arcane light flashed under the creature in a circle.

It shone for but a second, when large shards of ice struck up, piercing through the creature’s flesh and trapping it in place.

Taea did not do this, but there was no time to think. She dropped the cyclone of fire she was about to summon and instead dashed forward to the shrieking creature.

She reached forward and grasped the book, summoning flames to her fingertips to assist in tearing the flesh asunder to free the grimoire.

The creature thrashed, trying desperately to stop her, but alas, with a snap, Taea was able to rip the grimoire away and the creature’s shrieks turned to silence.

Taea stumbled back, before landing on her backside with a thump. She gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. She would be okay; the creature nicked her, and though it would leave a scar, the creature’s ichor didn’t touch her.

Townsfolk began to creep forward, mumbling amongst themselves before cheers started to ring out. A dwarven woman rushed forward and began to thank Taea profusely while she did her best to bandage Taea up.

“I didn’t know you could use more than one type of spell with grimoires!” a halfling child squeaked.

Taea glanced about the crowd to see if perhaps backup had arrived without her noticing, but instead a familiar figure standing off in the mouth of an alleyway caught her eye.

With a knowing smile, she turned to the halfling and said, “It was cool, wasn’t it? Normally you can’t, but-”

Taea spoke with the crowd, and down the street came the pounding of boots on cobblestone. Soon, more Archivists would be here, and that was Ludari’s cue to leave.

His gaze lingered on Taea, content and at ease speaking to the crowd, and he found that he could not envy her.

Bleeding out and still needing to put a brave face on for a crowd is not something he could do, nor could he be bothered to report to the Archivists and deal with the inevitable mountain of paperwork, especially with her borrowing magic from another grimoire without reporting it first.

Ludari met Taea’s gaze one last time, and she gave him a reassuring smile. Ludari’s lips twitched, but all he did was nod, pull up his hood, and weaved his way back to Fig and the caravan.