"Bubbling trouble," said Blaik, talking to himself. Mostly a cheerful mutter, but also a bit of a premonition. Distilling spells was not something to do when easily distracted. Blaik was very easily distracted. It was his nature.
Blaik was wearing a coarse purple robe. It shown with reflected light, as though it was made of silk, though it looked more like a metallic purple sackcloth. The robe was comfortable, cool and warm. It also had magic qualities that Blaik did not let on to casual observers such as you or I.
Wizards need a focal point to focus their magic. It can be a phrase, an item or a gesture depending on the complexity of the magic being wrought. It may even require many of these in succession, especially in the research phase.
Blaik had received this cloak upon completion of his apprenticeship. It reminded him of his former master with fondness and his centuries of youth studying in that far away tower. It also reeked of magics wrought by his master and generations of wizards before. It would likely last for as long as it was worn by wizards. Blaik intended to pass it to an apprentice, preferably a son or daughter someday after their completion of training.
The spell that Blaik was researching needed to boil before execution. It had been requested by one of the heads of the village council for a troubled couple. Blaik had sworn allegiance to the village and to protect it, but sometimes he wondered if these requests really were covered by his oath.
"At least I'm promoting village harmony," he muttered.
You can not boil words though. It could be liquified with some ground dragon scale. He didn't like boiling spells. He often forgot they were boiling and then "POOF!" They boiled over possibly ruined and making a unpleasant mess.
"Trouble," whispered Blaik from deep in his throat and trying to concentrate.
The escape of partial spells just was trouble. Nothing more. Just trouble. Most of time they disappeared in a pleasant grey puff of smoke, but not always.
Blaik paused to remember a particular love spell misfiring as a rainbow of color and metallic butterflies. It was very beautiful, but completely unrepeatable. It also left random colors, some only visible to a wizard, splashed across his lab and instruments. It was one of the more pleasant messes that he had had to clean.
Blaik sighed and reached for the jar of ground dragon scale. He removed a pinch between his thumb and forefinger. He was careful to prevent any from getting under his fingernails. He sprinkled it over a pot while breathing out the spell through the golden glittering dust. The dust carried the words to the pot and filled it with the raw spell in liquid form.
"So useful," Blaik murmured with a smile watching the ground scale do it's work. Then, his smile soured.
"So annoying." He had one flake under his right thumb. He looked around to find something to pry that pesky flake out from under his nail.
He caught some movement from out of the corner of his eye.
"Ev?" He questioned, then commanded, "LIGHT!!!" With a wave of his arm and a swoosh of his gown the single candle before him lit the room as if by the yellow sun.
That's when all went black. Blaik never felt the impact or his head bouncing off the workbench as he fell limp on the floor. He did however feel it very clearly when he awoke in the dirt bound and naked in the frost.
Blaik's hands were bound behind his back and tied to his feet. He was also gagged. He groaned, feeling the pain on the back and front of his head. "The swelling must be awful", he thought.
He heard a crunch in the frost. He was surrounded by men with weapons. Arrows, spears, swords and other weapons were all pointed at him, though he was bound naked and shivering on the ground.
"I'm gagged", he realized. "They are obviously afraid of me. They've also taken away my ability to cast spells by gagging me, taking my magic items and binding me," he continued thinking through the situation.
He realized that he might still have that flake of ground dragon scale under his nail. He wiggled his right thumb and managed to get a strand of the cord binding him under the nail.
"Now if it is in contact with the flake ...." He thought and then focused a spell of aging to make the cord weaken with age. It was a bit imprecise, not knowing the age of the cord or the size of the flake. He had to cast a more powerful spell too, since he only had one flake to work with, he couldn't take a chance on the spell not weakening the cords.
There was a slight burning sensation under his nail. A crackling sound came as the cords turned ash.
"Oops," Blaik thought and threw his arms into position raising to his feet in a cat like flash and concentrated on a spell to destroy his captors.
His captors surprised by the destruction of the bindings were ready and fell upon him. Arrows pierced him and weapons of every sort raked his flesh. He had the proper stance, but did not finish the proper negation to change life into death. The projection of the spell was not completed. The spell wildly misfired in a ball of light that only those of magic could see.
Blaik fell taking more injuries than his body could bear and not knowing if the spell that had almost been finished was of any use. The captors feared him, but did not know the fate that had nearly been theirs.
As Blaik fell he could not feel the pain or blood. He did not feel the repeated blows to his body. His gaze was toward the heavens and the brilliance of creation. He only could think, "Aren't the stars lovely and bright tonight. I really should have spent more time enjoying such things. Ev would love to see the stars tonight."
Then all was black with the blackness of ages passing unnoticed.
***
Their victim fell on the ground with barely a moan. There was a clink from his purse and no more. Jon and Gyr methodically relieved the new corpse of his valuables and anything worth selling.
They stalked him here without his notice. That was quite an achievement on a night like tonight. There was no moon but the stars were brilliant and easily lit the hills so that a man could see for miles clearly. The frost made the ground crunch with every step. The chill meant that each breath left a trail of mist feet long.
It had taken skill to stalk their victim on such a night. Jon and Gyr were adept highwayman though and took pride in their craft. Now they were about to be paid for all their efforts.
Jon relieved the corpse of the coins in his purse. He gave half to Gyr as they always did. He then paused to look at the stars.
"Aren't the stars lovely." Jon said jingling tomorrow's play money in his hand.
"And bright tonight," Gyr continued Jon's statement. "A few clouds would have made it easier tonight."
"At least there was no moon." Jon spoke. Then continued helping with the corpse giving the stars no more heed.
Unnotice by the two there was a crackle of the frost, masked by the sounds of the criminals and their booty. Blaik's bony hand broke the dirt. It was only bone, but waved about as if animated by flesh. Unseen muscle craving for the release of the rest of his body.
Soon his forearm and other hand were free, then he was pulling himself out of the ground. His skull, then waist and finally legs were free. He stood in the glorious star light. His eyeless sockets gazed at the stars with wonder. His thoughts were foggy. He couldn't remember anything but a longing to see the stars again.
A thud sounded as Gyr gave the now exhausted body a final kick farewell. It broke Blaik's concentration. He returned his gaze earthward. He saw the fallen man and the two thieves over him.
A wave of grief, of loss, of empathy passed over Blaik. He did not know why. He did know that a man had breathed his last breath looking upon the stars and dreaming of one whom he wished to share the sight with, and it did not seem right.
"Not right," barely a whisper on the wind came from Blaik's skeletal form.
A clod of dirt fell from Blaik's rib startling the Jon and Gyr in the new silence. They turned see who their next victim would be and froze.
Before them stood a skeleton with roots and dirt and dead leaves filling various crevices. They tried to flee, but found no strength in their legs and fell limp on the ground in the attempt. The skeletal form walked somewhat unsteadily toward them.
A whimper escaped Gyr's lips. It was meant to be a scream, but the strength was not there.
Jon squirmed, trying to raise himself, but was not successful and stayed where he had fallen.
Blaik walked closer. His legs regained their strength, though they were but bone. His movements were silent as if he were only an apparition. He looked at the fallen victim. He was very dead. He looked at the highwayman and felt pain. They had done this how many times? How many souls had not seen those they loved again because of them? He could tell it was many.
Blaik cast the last spell he had ever thought and flames engulfed the two criminals. They screamed out loud now for a very short time, then were silent except for the crackling of the fire.
Blaik turned his attention to himself. He saw the fleshless bone and a sigh caught the wind. "I look awful," he muttered in the wind, and it could have been confused for the light breeze.
He stood looking at the stars for a while and then decided to bury the three. He buried the criminals face down though. "You don't deserve to gaze on the heavens," he breathed as turned them over. He buried the victim's belongings with him and wished him a peaceful journey.
Blaik turned to look at the sky again and found dawn approaching. He looked at his dusty white bones and thought, "I really need a bath." More memories were coming back now and his head felt less groggy.
Then, he felt a magic, a very familiar magic, a very strong and friendly magic. He searched for it as the sun rose. He isolated it some distance away. He dug down through the hard earth and revealed a purple cloth. It was just an aged fragment from some almost forgotten age.
Blaik held it in dawn's light and as he held it, it sensed him and healed itself and soon he held a robe of purple. His robe. He would have smiled but could not so instead settled for a toothy grin.
He wrapped it about himself and let it cover him from head to foot. "This will do nicely," he thought. "The mountains have long since crumbled to hills but I still am."
"Perhaps there is hope." He whispered and continued down the road through the woods that the fallen man could not. It was an unfamiliar road and a bit lonesome, but that can change with time.