Sorcerer from Another World

Alarm and shock shook the gathered Chiefs and important persons of the Great Hall. Eyebrows raised, gasps fell out of mouths and red cheeks paled with dread. Gossip and rumour spread from person to person like a virus; a sickness of the mind rather than of the body.

More than a few eyes shifted to the Eastern King, but some rested on the Northern King, as well as, the empty throne of the Western King. Most stared at us; the disturbers of the status quo.

“Nonsense, not only are you beggars, you are also liars!” The Eastern King declared.

Some reactionary voices spoke out in support of the Eastern King’s claim.

“Liars!”

“Taking our homes!”

He certainly had a degree of charisma, more than the stodgy Northern King.

The Speaker slammed their knobby, oaken staff striking the tiled floors, “We cannot dismiss a claim raised by a Pendragon or an unprecedented figure like the Sorcerer. If it is true the matter must be investigated.”

“It cannot be true!”

“If it is, the truth must be found and brought to light!”

“Now, now.” The Northern King interceded. “Calm everyone. Our walls still stand, our harvests are rich and the cattle plentiful. What need have you to be so upset? All is well, now settle down as we address the Sorcerer’s words carefully and to the point of law.”

That seemed to do the trick, and quite the opposite of what I wanted. Placid faces and vacant expressions reigned as a calm settled over the majority of the hall. A few frowning faces among supporters of the Eastern King were a noticeable sore thumb to the Northern King’s efforts.

“The cows are sick.” Someone called out, but it didn’t impact the apathy the Northern King effected. That was news to me.

The Eastern King, predictably, protested, “They have no evidence at all! The Romans are outside our walls and this fool taunted them. We should be punishing him, not listening to his fictions.”

Cindra: the Druid representative, argued back, “That is the reason for the investigation! To gather evidence! Whatever you have against our guest, what law-carved grounds do you have to stop an investigation into a malicious and deadly act of treason that could be happening right now within our walls.”

The Northern King, not the Eastern, answered and he spoke with cunning, “The Western King is absent. It would go against the laws that hold Alba together for Two Kings to start hunting for spies among our people. Let alone on the words of guests who are strangers. We must know that their story is certain.”

The Eastern King frowned, but noticed that the words were in his favour. His frown turned into a smile.

The Northern King, however, was opening up his true gambit.

“But if we want the truth we shall have it. My daughter Maise greets our hall today. A young woman of marriageable age.” He lingered on that declaration his eyes directed at us - or perhaps me. “A proud scion of Clan Macfae. I mentioned her not out of fatherly love, but because she is a Truthseeker. Her magic can pierce through intentions and see what really happened to reach understanding.”

Here was the second important new person in the Gelt court. A small and slim wisp of a young lady. Daughter to the Northern King.

Stunning, but I knew many stunning women intimately. Nor did she have the peerless charisma and beauty of Donna.

Blonde locks curled into spirals and the baby blue eyes of a model. She was on the smaller side, thin with modest feminine proportions. A petite, pretty girl used to the life of court and castle rather than of war and strife.

“I welcome Maise to the floor.” Fide the Speaker said. “Seek the Truth, know if you lie I will discern if your magic is real or a mere trick.”

Maise stepped forwards out of the shadows and into the centre of the hall, near Morgana and I.

She beamed and some subtle magic spell drew the light to her - like she was under the spotlight. This was her moment to shine.

“My precious daughter.” The Northern King declared. I somewhat doubt it. There wasn’t any warmth in his expression, but neither was there hate. I couldn’t think of a word to describe how he faced her.

Unfeeling was the closest I got, and I knew it wasn’t accurate.

“Thank you, father. Thank you everyone…” She took a moment to take in all the eyes and attention focusing on her. “I wish my first speech to this hall could have been a boring report on crop yields.”

She got a few laughs for that.

She laughed with them, prompting more polite laughter, “Who was I to know my skills would come to be of service to this great city of our people? I hope my talents continue to aid the great Gelts. Sorcerer step forward, so I may place my hands on your head and divine the truth.”

I looked at Morgana. She gave me a small nod of the head, but her frown showed she was as concerned as I was. Not because we were lying, but that this daughter of the Northern King may lie.

I stepped forward and thrust myself into the judgement of the Gelts. I had my staff. It alone could raze this place to the ground. They should fear me. That chilling statement gave me confidence. Not in myself, but in my capacity for violence.

“My name is Maise MacFae. I’m happy to finally meet you.”

“Ah…same.” I told a half-truth.

“You’ve met my father, Sorcerer Damian. I’ve heard a lot about you from him and others.”

“Oh?”

“I will see the truth of it from myself.”

She placed her hands on my head, one palm at each temple, soft yellow light glowed and her eyes shimmered wavy blurring shades of white.

“Tell your story.”

I recounted our tale as briefly as before. I was a little curious and caught by the long eyelashes, but still in a rather sour mood to be here.

“The Sorcerer speaks true!”

Hushed silence fell throughout the Great Hall. They waited for what was going to happen next.

I was tense and rigid.

The Northern King spoke first, “The Sorcerer has fulfilled his promise. Morgana Pendragon as heir to the Pendragon clan you have the right to land to tax it as you see fit and protect your peoples. Our clans have not always been allies, so I see fit to recognise you as chief of a new clan. What say you?”

Morgana strode forward, and I took a step back.

She thumped her fist to her chest, “I name our Clan Penmagi. I swear to defend the Kings of Gelt against Roman, Unseelie and any others who may harm us. Do you swear the same.”

“While the Western King may be absent, as the Speaker can confirm he already stated his wishes. The Kings of Gelt agree to a defensive pact with Clan Penmagi long may prosperity flourish among your people!”

“So it stands till Elkilbour falls that Clans Macfae and Clan Logelf form a pact of mutual aid and defence with Clan Penmagi.”

An older man spoke into the ear of the Eastern King. Whatever he said soured the young man’s mood even further. Spoiling his handsome looks.

“Clan Moflin also agrees to the defensive pact.” The Eastern King proclaimed.

“The clans shall fight together! But the matter of the traitor cannot be forgotten.” The Speaker added.

“In order to ensure neutrality the Druids of the Circle shall conduct the investigation. Uproot this shall and present to face Geltian justice.” The Northern King ordered.

“Aye!” The Eastern King echoed.

“So, it is agreed.” The Speaker concluded.

Loud, boring discussion ensued on the details of trade and such. I listened as Morgana sorted out the details of our land ownership with the elites of Elkilbour.

I didn’t feel like playing with magic while I waited. I was consumed with my thoughts and worries. Minus a few bright spots the last few days sucked ass. I longed to relax with my lovers and go on exploring adventures.

I had to secure somewhere safe to get what I wanted.

Maise swayed closer to my side and spoke in hushed, soft tones to me.

She fluttered her long lashes at me, “It is my first time meeting a man like you.”

She was flirting. Even I could tell. She continued to flirt and I deflected with friendly, non-committal replies.

I felt another wave of revulsion. Similar to what I experienced with Làidir. An interest based solely in my magical power. I was getting used to it with the fearsome warrior.

What am I worth without my magic? I know Morgana and Iris would never give me the time of day without my magic. It is what I am now…but who am I? A few acts of kindness and power I didn’t earn.

A power that wasn’t even enough. Overpowered, but smited by a God. Hey, I challenged Mars and I lost. Even with my powers I wasn’t enough. Sorcerer failed. Who is left? Who am I if you look at Damain Grey sans the Sorcerer?

I gambled with my life to become the Sorcerer. I am not even happy. Not deep inside. I’m the same twisted person. Sure, things were better with more power. Less twisted now I wasn’t yearning for intimacy or trapped in a dead end job. Helping the people of Albion gave me some meaning. My lovers gave me a tether to this world. What would be another?

But I would remain the same miserable sod.

One who overthinks some random elite attempt at seduction.

I listened to them negotiate. It was like watching the news dry and rubbish. Maise, on the other hand, was more pleasant. Sadly for her, I simply didn’t care at that moment. She was too late to the seduction game and caught me at a bad moment. Maybe another day she might be lucky.

The battle with Mars was running through my head, and all I wanted was to go and spend some time by myself. We needed somewhere safe.

This land won’t make me happy, but I don’t know what else to do. It is better than waiting for Mars to kill us all. Survival first, then I can try and be happier. For all my inner misery - I am happier here with my magic and spending time with Iris and Morgana than I ever was back home.

I won’t fail them, try not to again.

Still, Maise talked to me her pretty gaze hooking mine.

I was a little horny but my mind swam between Tulisa, Donna and Làidir each in a more compromising position than the last.

It was fun and games having three women throw themselves at me back in Ferisdarm. I was still to bed Tulisa should she remain eager. Another three now during my time in Elkilbour Làidir, Donna and now Maise.

I might be the first homeless guy in any world to have seven beautiful women seducing him. The first three were as homeless as I. For what that counted.

I was slightly flattered, but more frustrated and annoyed by their intentions. They didn’t see me, they saw what they wanted from me. Once again, I was bothered by the issues of being wanted.

It was deep in self criticism when me-from-a-future arrived.