The Last Battle: Mid-Story Scene

A scene I wrote a couple of days ago. It takes place during a flashback that explains how Kata and Santok met. I've also got a timeline going to figure out what happened when before the events of "Last Battle". Everything is changeable, but as of now, Kata is currently 23. Santok is 41, though that may not be his biological age in human terms, since beastmen may age differently than humans. Cyra is 42 and Rayna is 16, which I need to change in an earlier scene.

“What spells do you know?” asked Santok, once the fire was burning steadily.

“None,” Kata replied. The question was a little surprising. Surely he had noticed by now that she wasn’t a caster.

“None?” Santok looked genuinely shocked. “You really never learned any?”

“Of course not!” Kata was starting to feel defensive, though she didn’t understand why. “I’m not a caster and I never trained to be one. I don’t have the talent for magic.”

“Ahh.” Santok was nodding his head, his eyes closed.

“I misunderstood,” he said, his eyes returning to her. “In Keltaria, we are all taught basic magic. Some take a greater interest in it and go on to become mages or healers, but everyone knows a few simple spells. I had assumed it was the same in your land.”

Now it was Kata who nodded in realization.

“So anyone can cast a spell?” It was in contradiction to what Kata has always been taught and had always believed. Magic was something you were born with, something that you discovered you had and chose whether or not to nurture. She had never even considered the possibility that it was something she might be capable of.

“Oh yes.” Santok spread his hands wide. “Magic resides in every living thing. We tend to think of it as something mysterious or divine, but magic is really just an energy that lets you achieve feats you normally could not.”

“Like what?”

“You have seen battles before. Have you ever wondered how a gravely injured knight can find the strength to lift his sword and keep on fighting when by all rights, he should be unable to stand? Magic. A doe fleeing a wolf and escaping in a last burst of speed that seems to come from nowhere? Magic. A single blood lily growing from earth that the roughest weeds cannot survive in? Magic. You have almost certainly used magic before without ever realizing that you did.”

Kata considered this idea for a while. She wasn’t certain she believed it, but she had never really discussed magic with spellcasters before. Was it possible? Could magic really be nothing more than an inner strength that could be tapped without the words and gestures she had always believed it required?

“Here,” said Santok. “Hold out your hand.”

Santok put his own hand out at almost full arm’s length, palm up. Hesitantly, Kata did the same. Santok nodded in approval and drew his own hand back.

“Now concentrate on the center of your palm,” Santok instructed. “Try to draw your energy there.”

Kata focused on the middle of her hand, staring hard at the skin, the tendons, and the veins underneath.

“Am I doing it right?” she asked uncertainly.

“You will know if it works. It can help to imagine a situation where you might naturally use magic, or think of something or someone you feel strongly about. Keep concentrating. I am going to tell you the word for the spell.”

Kata tried to increase her concentration. She thought of particularly tense moment of fighting she had experienced, time when she might have easily died. She thought of her home, her parents, some of her fellow knights, all the same things she thought of when she needed to remind herself why she was willing to fight and die.

“Pa’roh,” Santok recited, and looked expectantly at Kata.

“Pa’roh,” repeated Kata. Nothing happened.

“Put more emphasis on the second syllable. ‘Pa’roh.’”

“Pa’roh.” Kata felt a slight tingle in her palm, but she couldn’t be certain it was anything more than her own wishful thinking.

“Good. Make the pause in the middle shorter and roll the ‘r’ a little. ‘Pa’roh.’”

“Pa’roh.” This time the sensation was unmistakable. She could feel a rush of something indefinable toward the center of her palm. A tiny, worried voice inside her was warning her that Santok could be making her set herself on fire, but she ignored it.

“Don’t lose your concentration. You are doing very well. Again.”

“Pa’roh.” The rush came faster this time.

“Again.”

“Pa’roh.” A small circle of blue light began to glow in the center of Kata’s palm. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a smile.

“Keep concentrating. Say it once more.”

“Pa’roh.”

The circle of light slowly rose up from Kata’s palm. As she watched in amazement, it formed into a tiny glowing blue ball. The ball began to grow in size. When it stopped, it had a diameter about the length of Kata’s hand. It floated just above Kata’s hand, shining a bright pale blue. Kata stared at it, delighted. Santok smiled and clapped his hands softly.

“Excellent. You learn fast.”

“It’s incredible,” Kata breathed. She still couldn’t believe that she had actually cast a spell.

Santok held out his own hand.

“Pa’roh,” he said. His sphere of light formed almost instantaneously. It was larger than Kata’s, reflecting the size of hand. It also glowed a deep red orange, a strong contrast to Kata’s blue sphere.

“They are sometimes called ‘spirit lanterns,’” Santok explained, “though most people simply refer to them as ‘lights’. That spell is thought to be one of the oldest true spells in existence. It is also the first one taught to children.”

“So it’s used as a light?”

“Sometimes. Certainly in old times it would have been very useful as an easy to control light source that gives no smoke or heat. But nowadays, there are more sophisticated light spells that are used more frequently. But it is a simple spell that requires little energy. And it is very easy to manipulate.”

“Manipulate how?”

Santok didn’t answer. He stared intently at his glowing orb. It shuddered and then changed from a red-orange to bright green. Kata laughed.

“How do you do it?”

“Just concentrate on the center and think of the color you want it to be.”

Kata focused on the orb’s center. It took a little longer than Santok’s had, but slowly, the sphere went from blue to a green matching Santok’s. He smiled his approval.

“You can also move it,” he added. He pointed his fingers upward and the ball rose into the air. Tilting his hand from side to side, he made the ball sweep left and right. Kata copied his movements. It was awkward at first, but before long, she could make the sphere move pretty much however she wanted, well away from her hand. Santok showed her how to shrink the ball by bringing her fingers together and make it larger by spreading them apart.

“When did you learn this?” Kata asked once she had become adept at controlling the ball.
“I was a young child,” responded Santok. “Keltarian children nearly always learn it from a parent or an older child rather than in formal instruction. I learned it from my brother.”

Santok’s gaze grew distant. Kata had never heard him talk about his family before. She realized that she hadn’t really thought about him having a family before now. Of course she had realized that he must have had parents and maybe even other relatives. But she had always seen him as a hard, tough soldier, not someone who might think longingly of home and family.

“Children learn magic at different speeds,” Santok continued, bringing his attention back to the sphere and returning it to its original orange hue. “Some can summon a spirit lantern after only a few days; others take far longer. But there is a lot of incentive to learn. Many children play games by knocking them into each other, and if you cannot cast the spell, you get left out.”

“Did you ever do it?”

“What, knocking spirit lanterns together? Of course not. I stayed well away from frivolous games like that.”

Santok turned away and sat down, his back to Kata and the fire. Kata looked down at the sphere, feeling embarrassed. Up until now, she had merely tried to keep tensions neutral herself and Santok. But now, she honestly felt upset about having upset Santok, and not just because it might take the rest of their journey together difficult. She didn’t want to upset Santok or have him upset with her. She liked talking with him far more than she thought she would. It wasn’t just that he was the only person she had to talk to. She genuinely liked his company.

Kata was about to go and apologize to Santok when a large orange sphere zoomed at her from the right and slammed into her blue one, sending spinning away from her. Kata looked over at Santok. He hadn’t turned around or stood up, but Kata could see him glancing over his shoulder and sweeping his hand around. Smirking, Kata whisked her sphere away from another attack by Santok’s and whirled it around to knock his off its course.