Story #14: Gale the Mage

First Guest Post
Hello everyone. I plan to get back to doing more posts soon, at the latest near the end of June. Today, however, I would like to present the first story not written by myself to be posted on this blog. If you have a story from Thraindhne that you want posted just tell me. Now lets take a look at Lark Newton's second half, Gale....

Gale the Mage

by Ian Darragh

Up on a tall ridge of a mountain in Solarnir, a mage was resting his weary arms. He had just made a final attempt to scale down the mountain, bu this arms had nearly failed him, and he was forced to return to the top of the ridge.

"Why have you done this to me?" he cried, waving his clenched fists at the empty, frigid air. "You sent me up here, and for what reason? You all believed that I was a threat to your ascension to archmagehood?" He kicked a small snowdrift in anger, and he watched as the flakes flew away on the fast, harsh wind. 

"How will I be able to reach the base of this mountain? My magic is suppressed up here, by the three of you, and I'm too weak from the cold to climb down. What can I do?"

The mage sat down, and thought. He wondered aloud, "Did they enchant the peak?" Now, this mage, Gale, was stuck on this ridge, and he had been for three weeks now. He had never even conceived the idea of climbing higher, because it would make his (hopefully) eventual descent longer.

Gale stood up, and started walking up the mountain. His steps were shaky from the freezing wind, and he stumbled and fell several times. He eventually reached a small cliff, which he had to climb if he even wanted to get his magic back.

The mage started his way precariously up the cliff. His hands slipped almost immediately, and he was forced to make a second attempt. He succeeded on his third try, pulling himself up onto the ridge, wheezing.

He then felt a peculiar sensation. His arms felt less like they were about to fall off, and his breathing steadied. He remembered the feeling, the feeling that a mage could not forget: the rush of magic. He leaped straight up, pumping one fist into the air. He celebrated by creating a small globe of flame in his palm to warm him. It didn't do much to help him, but the little bit was helpful. 

Gale could not descend, nor would he ascend. He had never bothered to learn how to teleport, which he sorely regretted now. 

A thought struck him. But it couldn't possibly work. It was the most difficult spell that he had ever learnt in all of his years, but it was his only chance.

Gale started the spell. He drew forth a small knife from his boot, and a small emerald from his cloak pocket. He began chanting, tracing intricate designs in the air before him. The shapes floated in the open space for a moment, and then dissipated, one after the other.

Gale knew he had to end the spell. He raised the knife, and knowing that the pain was nothing compered to death. He plunged the blade into his thigh, and removed the blade, quickly continuing the spell, moving the emerald over the open wound.

He knew that it had worked when his vision started to fade. I knew that it would work., he thought, as his soul left his body.

Now, what Gale had attempted is very dangerous, and almost completely suicidal. But he succeeded, and his mind spun through all of the possible bodies that it could inhabit. He passed by a dozen possibilities, all of them infants, but one caught his attention.

It was a small boy, who would be a little short. Gale decided that this would be the body that he would enter. This would be his living body, who he would become.

When he entered the child's mind, back on the mountain, Gale's body began to crumble, the soul having found a new host. It faded away completely, until only his small emerald remained.

Inside of the boy's mind, Gale looked around. Well, he more of examined the child's mind. He had been heavily influenced by his parent's love of music, and would almost certainly pursue it.

"Yes, this should work." Gale said. "Welcome to the world, kid. You're Lark? I'm Gale, and I... wait. Why am I even here? Who was I, other than just Gale?"

Now, all of this happened inside of young Lark's mind, and it all happened about twenty years ago. Lark would later go on to, as Gale had predicted, pursue music, and become a bard. Gale and Lark learned to live with each other, with some small problems. But that is a tale for another time...