Chapter Thirty Nine: Potions - Part Two

"I did," she said eagerly, her eyes flashing. "I had thought it looked familiar, like I'd seen it before. Didn't I say that? I just had to find the right book. That's the problem with having too many books, it's finding what you need in the right one. I had Den confirm what the book says, too. He called a friend of his, who, by the way, sounds incredible. An old wizard who lives outside of Tyken Town."

"What are the sceptre's origins?" He cast a look into the other room, to the shelf where the real sceptre lay. He could feel the thrum of the lingering power emanating from it.

"It belonged to an ancient Canarrian Red Monk, named Orin Scarten." She paused, likely to allow him to react, although the name meant nothing to him.

Melida shifted closer and pointed to a passage. "You see, Orin Scarten is a famous Red Monk, who was very powerful. And his power is somehow still inside the sceptre. His soul, even, is inside here. Trapped, after all this time."

"Trapped?" The word brought a shiver to Evan.

"So the legends go. Orin crossed paths with a dark god, who trapped him inside his own sceptre."

She turned the page and tapped on an image of an old man in robes. He had messy white hair and a beard to match, and held the golden sceptre that had become so familiar to Evan.

"That's him," Melida said. "He would use the sceptre to channel lightning from the skies. Some called him a lightning god, but he was likely just a master of the magic source. It sounds like it can channel a great many magic's though."

"What kind of man was he? This Orin Scarten?"

"He was a good man. Kind hearted. His real name isn't Orin Scarten. That's just one that was given to this famous Red Monk., whose name was lost over the years. He's named after an old Canarrian children's tale hero, Malold Scartin. And 'Orin' means 'brave' in Canarrian. So his name means 'brave hero'."

"A good man," Evan said thoughtfully. He considered another soul trapped beyond its control. The demon inside him. Why couldn't Evan have become joined with a great soul like this Red Monk instead?

"There is no malevolence in this sceptre." Melida was watching him closely. "And Den also believes it to be mostly safe, but very powerful. He warns against using it, however, but I know you can handle it. If you chose to wield it."

"How would I channel the power?"

"Knowing where the power comes from will help," she said. "You would be calling upon Orin Scarten to assist you, so it is like channelling the sorcery you're used to, but knowing it is an ancient spirit whose power you are using. One passage speaks of summoning Orin's spirit into this world, but I don't know about that."

Using a spirit to help. Evan was familiar with the concept. He wondered how he was getting involved with so many ancient entities, and then wondered if his personal demon, Runn, had somehow played a role in attracting this sceptre. Powerful forces were known to attract each other. Evan told himself that if he were able to overpower one ancient spirit, then he would be able to control the sceptre of another.

It took Evan a moment to say, "I believe I can wield it. We will need all the help we can for the next time we see Jaxx's men."

"Something is bothering you," she said carefully.

Turning away from her, Evan said, "I was targeted by Jaxx's Illusion sorcery. I saw many things, many people, from my homeland. Some that have long passed away. Some very dear to me. I would have lost the fight... I would have been killed, if James had not saved me." He looked up at her. "James showed a great deal of courage during the fight. I had not noticed how much he has progressed. In one moment, it was as though I was looking at a different person."

Evan had always been aware the discomfort James experienced around him, but had not cared to ease his fears. Their soft hero needed to be tempered into hard steel. That's how Evan had seen it. He thought back to when he had first met James, and how it seemed that the two of them were in a similar situation: lost and far from home. Indeed, the two of them seemed to be on similar paths. Now James was held captive, alone, still thinking Evan did not care for him.

"Maybe you just don't know him as well as you think you do."

Evan nodded absently. "Perhaps." He stared at the ground for a time, before saying, "I faced a great foe there. The one with fur, like a wolf. He was far quicker than I was. It was like striking at smoke. I..." he looked up at her. "If I face him again, I do not know if I can match him."

"He's a Firion," Melida said. "I know his people; there are many of them on this world. Mostly they are a peaceful people. But, they are not magic users. They abhor it. He may be fast and skilled, but you have the sorcerous edge. And, you have the heart and drive to persevere. I know it."

Melida closed the book, throwing up a light dust, and climbed out of the bed. Her long robes swished along the carpet as she crossed the room by the head of the bed. "Here," she said, opening the glass doors of a cabinet. She brought out a round glass bottle filled with a blue liquid.

"This," she said, returning to the bed, "is one of my most prized possessions. This is a potion that can help enhance a person's magical abilities. It strengthens the power they already have. It lasts for a day or two, to give a good boost."

Evan eyed the bottle. "How does it enhance abilities?"

"This came down from my line of kin, the ones that were the strong magic users. No one knows how to make it any more, as far as I know, and I don't think there's many left. What it does do is help clear the mind, and allow a deeper connection to the sources of magic that flow all around us, and within us. It protects the body against the use of stronger spells, so you will feel less of the draining effects of magic. Not a great deal less, but it will help a little. The effects of this can vary from each person, but they've never been severe. I know you can handle it."

"This is a great treasure; I could not possibly take some away from you. You should keep it for yourself."

"I used it once," she said, suddenly becoming shy, that familiar gleam of mischief in her eyes. "It was... heavenly. I only keep it for great emergencies, and mostly as a keepsake. But I want you to have some. Promise me you will. I won't let you go back out there without having some."

Evan eventually nodded, and he smiled at her. She had a strong heart that was hard to resist. She reminded him of how stubborn his mother could be at times. "Very well. I will drink it with thanks, to you and your kin." He studied the bottle apprehensively. If his sorcery was stronger, would that make Runn stronger, too? She said the effects varied for each person.

Melida beamed at him, and then frowned. "What's wrong? You still look worried."

Evan shook his head dismissively.

"That demon, inside you," she said. "Did you speak to it?" She was getting better at reading him.

"I did. It does not like me very much."

"Well you're not the easiest person to get along with straight away," she said, grinning at him. "Did you learn anything from it?"

"We are greatly connected, the demon and I. It will receive this power boost, but I just have to be the strongest force, and watch out for it."

"You think it will try and escape? Or take you over?"

"It said as much. It is just waiting for its moment."

Melida took his hand in hers. "I have faith in you. And now, with the sceptre of Orin Scarten, you will surely be a force to be reckoned with."

Evan wished he had as much faith in himself as Melida did.

"Here, before you drink this," Melida said. "I want you to try a breathing exercise. To help centre you, and restore your balance." She held the glass bottle against her chest and focused on Evan. "Would you like to try?"

"Alright then," Evan said. He turned to face her more, eager for the exercise. He had to admit, as strange as Melida seemed at times, she was certainly knowledgeable in the sorcerous arts. It was rare for him to find someone who enjoyed exploring sorcery as much as he did.

Melida took him through a series of breathing rhythms and assessments of his body; how different parts felt and their relation to each other. The idea was to channel the feeling of sorcerous energy, without releasing it, and to understand what his body went through when he conjured powerful forces. The better he understood the inner processes of how sorcery flowed through him, the better and easier his control of it would be. It was a fascinating concept. One that Evan would be sure to explore further with his people once he returned to them.

A renewed strength flowed through him, like the effects of the sagka drink. But this came internally and extended outwards, rather than soaking into him. He drifted away, his slow breaths taking him to a calmer place. A place of power. Somewhere hidden within him, he felt the pulsing rhythms of shock, or surprise. Runn did not like the power that coursed through Evan. And Evan smiled.

His shoulders sagged when they were done and he finally opened his eyes. The tension in his neck and back had diminished, and for a moment, he had forgotten about his injuries. He had heard of meditative states that could heal the body, but had never considered such things before, having always relied on Restoration Sorcery.

Melida looked pleased. She took the glass stopper off the bottle and carefully poured the blue liquid into a small tube inside the stopper. "This is the quantity per person."

She handed Evan the stopper. If he took this, and still failed, he knew he would not be capable enough of restoring his kingdom. He had failed his people enough already. And he had failed James.

"You ready?" Melida asked, nodding excitedly to the drink in his hand.

Evan swallowed the potion.

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