The Sorcerer's Quest Read online

  The Sorcerer’s Quest

  The Sorcerer’s Saga Book 1

  Rain Oxford

  The Sorcerer’s Quest © 2016 Rain Oxford

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by Brooke Gillette

  Chapter 1

  “Please just let me tell you---” I stopped because I was suddenly talking to a door. I sighed and started back down the road. Dread and hunger were wearing on me. A man stepped out of the forest, followed by a huge, overweight, slow-moving animal with black and white spots. “Excuse me, sir,” I said, giving him as much excitement as I could muster up.

  “Yes? How can I help you?” he asked. He was a kind looking man and although he wore shabby clothes, his face and hair were clean.

  “I was wondering, would you be interested in buying some magic beans?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve just traded my own magic beans for this beast.” He indicated the animal, which was eating the grass. “I would be willing to trade the beast for your beans, though. I really don’t think I got the fair end of that deal.”

  I pulled out the handful of beans from my pocket and studied the beast. “I… I’m sorry. My mother would kill me if I did.” That was a lie, but I couldn’t live with myself if I subjected an animal to her.

  “I understand. Good day to you.”

  “And you.” He hurried on his way and I sighed. At least he didn’t notice my family seal embossed on my dark green robe. That might have been due to the fact that I had my robe inside out. This was on purpose.

  After the fifth door I knocked on where nobody answered, I had reversed the robe to hide the gold needlework. It worked; people answered the door only to slam it in my face. Still, it was better to appear as an idiot than a member of the Dracre family. Dracre was a name people feared even speaking aloud and nobody was foolish enough to open the door to us. My mother in particular was known as the most vindictive sorceress of all, a title which she boasted every time I screwed up.

  And I screwed up an awful lot. For example, all I had to do was sell some cursed beans. I spent three days traveling the land, scouring every hill and valley for some poor fellow who would buy them, but the only people who would even open the door were in fact, poor. It wasn’t that my family needed money; there was never a shortage of people who needed curses and potions. My mother just wanted to make sure I was doing my part in spreading mayhem.

  I sat down on a large boulder beside the road. My feet hurt. The unfortunate truth was that I should have been able to sell the beans to someone, but I was a very lousy sorcerer. I pulled out a lump of clay and my wand.

  It was a perfectly straight wand made of rosewood with elegant sigils engraved in the handle. My mother threw away my first three wands and made me make proper sorcerer ones, like hers. Her wand was sinister and twisted, made of ebony with powerful carvings all over it that moved randomly. Unfortunately, no matter how much I tried to make one like hers, it just transformed into this every time I used it. It was a source of great amusement for my six older brothers.

  Standing, I tossed my robe aside, both in shame and because it was a hot summer day. I carefully set the clay down on the rock and waved my wand at it, trying very hard to transform the mass into a hunk of bloody steak. Instead, energy shot through me, into my wand, and changed the clay into… an apple and broccoli. I groaned. Why must I be a vegetarian? All my brothers could conjure meat. I had to rely on hunting for meat, but every time I attempted it, I couldn’t bring myself to shoot an animal.

  “You shouldn’t have that, young man,” a voice startled me from my misery. I looked up and saw a man with a nice, beige shirt and blue slacks. From the decent condition of his clothes and his well-styled brown hair, I knew he was a traveling salesman. They had all the best possessions. He pointed to my robe, on which the family crest was very clearly displayed.

  “It’s my family’s mark,” I said, trying to sound fierce.

  He frowned at me with disbelief, undoubtedly due to my blond hair and blue eyes. Every Dracre had black hair and burgundy eyes. “That is the Dracre crest, and I know they don’t have any wizards.”

  I flinched. “I’m not a wizard! I’m a sorcerer!”

  The man scoffed. “With blond hair? Impossible.” He left, shaking his head and muttering about wizards trying to be what they weren’t.

  I sighed. My brothers teased me every day, saying things like that Mother stole me from a wizard family, or worse— a mage! Wizards were as anti-black-magic as they could get, whereas no decent sorcerers would ever lift a finger to help another person. The only people my family considered worse than wizards were mages, which were healers and quest makers.

  Because wizards were known for their blond hair and all sorcerers had black hair, I would never be accepted into my family. I ate my apple and broccoli, then sighed and started heading home.

  * * *

  I arrived at a dark shack in the middle of the forest right at sunset. It was made of gray stone and covered in blood-colored ivy. The trees all around it were dead, which warned anyone passing by that it was a house of dark magic users. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. I sighed and knocked.

  “Mother? I’m back.” When there was no answer, I pulled out my wand and waved it at the door handle. The metal answered with a harsh burst of energy that burned my hand.

  The door opened to my oldest brother. Zeustrum sneered, making his sharp, angular features stand out more than usual. “I knew you were a wizard.”

  “Get out of my way,” I said.

  “Say please, wizard.”

  “Move!” I yelled. His black hair was braided down his back, as usual. He was so proud of his hair that he never once cut it. I wanted to cut it short and watch him cry. When I was little and he tried to practice his torturing methods on me, I could only get him to leave me alone by pulling on his braid. Alas, he had learned my tricks, so I wouldn’t even risk it this time.

  He just smirked. “Mother said that if you didn’t sell the cursed beans, you were not allowed in.”

  “It’s not my fault! You have no idea how hard it is to sell magic produce these days.”

  “You are such a disappointment to the family,” he said before shutting the door in my face. I waited a moment before turning the knob and entering.

  The inside of the house was easily ten times the size of the outside. The kitchen was the heart of the house with the communal area circling it. Only a knee-high stone partition separated the kitchen and the living space around it. The partition also served as a very long table on which we prepared the ingredients for the potions. There were many pots, stirrers, and measuring tools that my family used to make poisons, potions, and curses.

  The living area was mostly used for entertaining guests and planning. When wizards no longer offered curses, the Dracre family had a huge surge in clientele. On the north end, a winding staircase led to the second floor, where our bedrooms were. I headed for the stairs, only to hit what felt like a solid wall.

  “Ayden, Zeus said you failed at the easy assignment I gave you,” my mother’s voice came from the kitchen. I hadn’t seen her when I came in, but I should have known better.

  “Good evening, Mother. I wouldn’t say I failed exactly. Did I get money for them, no, but it was because---”

  “Did you give them away?” she asked.

  “No.”

  She was a very tall and thin woman with straight black hair, cold burgundy eyes, and prominent cheekbones. There was nothing gentle or warm about her appearance. Even her long nails looked more like claws than the flat nails that other people had. I knew from experience that they were very painful.

  “Go to your room. I will deal with you in the morning.” Her voi
ce was soft, which was as feminine as it got and told me without a shadow of doubt that I was in serious trouble. If I had given them away, at least I would have accomplished her goal of brewing chaos.

  I ran up the stairs, down the circular hall to the last door, and shut myself in my bedroom. My room was the smallest in the house— barely large enough for my small bed. I pulled the storage chest out from under the low bed and changed my black shirt and pants for a more comfortable, short-sleeved tan shirt and brown pants.

  There was a reason I didn’t have a mirror in my room; as if being the only one in my family who didn’t enjoy causing chaos wasn’t embarrassing enough, I was also the runt. Along with my blond hair and blue eyes, I was small and thin for my age. As I started to roll up my robe, I heard several of my brothers talking outside my door.

  “Do you think Mother will finally kick him out?” Thaddeus, my youngest older brother asked. Thad never instigated anything on his own, preferring to stand back and let everyone else fight, then side with the winner. Basically, he followed Zeustrum around.

  “I hope so. Maybe then we could get a brother who is worth something,” Bevras said. He was my second oldest and easily the most violent. Zeustrum and Bevras were twins and always backed each other up.

  “Mother would never let him go,” Zeustrum argued. “She wouldn’t let someone ruin our good name. I heard her telling father that this was his last chance. My guess is that she’ll get rid of him for good.”

  For good? Mother wouldn’t… Yes, she would.

  “So he’s not going with us to destroy Magnus?”

  Magnus? Mother was sending them to defeat Magnus? The wizard was well-known throughout all Akadema for his great power and selflessness. Not even the most powerful sorcerers could get into his castle.

  “Of course not. Ayden would never stand a chance against a wizard as powerful as him.”

  My heart sank as I realized what I had to do. I wasn’t born cruel like my brothers and it was obvious I wasn’t just going to grow into it. The only way I was going to be accepted by my family was to do something drastic. If I could practice by causing some mayhem along the way, all the better for my reputation.

  I gathered everything I owned into a small bag and waited for it to become quiet again. Soon, I opened the door, found that my brothers were gone, and snuck down the hall. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, but I didn’t see anyone. Sneaking out the front door was almost too easy.

  I paused at a huge willow tree I used to hide in as a child and looked back at the house, certain this was a trap of some kind… but there was no one watching, waiting to stop me. Then I turned and jumped with a loud squeak. I slapped my hand over my mouth to hush myself. My father, who was standing right in front of me, just looked sort of sad. “Please don’t tell Mother,” I whispered. I would have cursed myself if I could for thinking I could escape my fate.

  He put his finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. He did that sometimes when only I was around, and I always thought it was odd. My father wasn’t like my mother. Yes, he was a sorcerer and therefore only used magic for selfish gains, but he was never cruel to me or my brothers. If I thought a sorcerer was capable of it, I would go as far as to say he felt sorry for me.

  Although Kille Rynorm did not have bulky muscle like a warrior, he was much stronger than a normal sorcerer needed to be. His hair was black and short, adding to the severity of his face. His jaw was angular and always closely shaven. What people noticed first was his eyes, which changed colors, supposedly with his mood. They were usually a very dark rust color, but on this night they were gold.

  He never raised his voice and never lost his temper. He didn’t need to. When he was around, people just wanted to keep their head down and behave. Although I never met his family, I imagined they were the same.

  His family were dragon trainers and extremely successful at it until my father married my mother. She tried to take over without any knowledge of dragons. After several were killed because of her improper treatment, they let the rest of the dragons go free. My mother often told me that dragons all went extinct before I was born, but I liked to think they were just hiding from her.

  In their rooms.

  Like I did.

  Instead of letting his hand fall to his side, he set it gently on my shoulder. “I’m not going to tell your mother. You should have left ages ago.”

  “Zeus said that Mother will get rid of me. Does she plan to kill me?”

  “Yes. Your mother has always been far too ambitious. To her, children are akin to slaves. Run while you have the chance. I am not a seer, but I know you will learn so much on the journey you have ahead of you.”

  I nodded. “Will she be mad at you for letting me go?”

  He smirked, which utterly shocked me. I didn’t think my father was even capable of that. “I will deal with her. For today at least.” His grin faded. “Eventually, she will come after you.”

  “Then I will prove myself to be the strongest sorcerer in Akadema before she does.” As I started down the dark road, my resolve strengthened. I knew I could become such a powerful sorcerer that not even my brothers could dispute it. That, or I would never return.

  * * *

  By the third day, I was regretting my decision. Akadema was a great place to live in a quiet village or alone in a cabin in the woods, but there wasn’t much else. There were a few castles, yet even those were small. Basically, we had an abundance of forests, dirt roads, flat fields, and hills.

  Although I passed plenty of travelers, none were interested in anything but trading and I had nothing of value. On the major roads, I normally passed four or five villages a day. Since they all looked the same, I could really have done with a change of scenery.

  I was just about to turn back and head home when I heard a commotion from the right. There was some screaming and cries for help, so I decided to check it out. After all, there was always something a sorcerer could do to aggravate a problem.

  I followed the dirt path over a hill, where I saw a quaint village in a shallow valley. Well, normally it was probably very pleasant. At the moment, though, it was on fire. When I saw men running around with their arms full of loot, I assumed that they were pillagers. “Well, if they’re already being pillaged… the least I can do is get in on it.” Mother would be so proud if word got back to her that I terrorized an entire village.

  As I wandered into the town, I could easily tell the raiders apart from the residents by their forest-green cloaks. Mine was too clean to blend in, but after dropping it in the dirt and stomping on it a few times, it worked quite nicely. One of the looters passed me with a hefty bag of gold jewelry. I knew it contained jewelry because there was a hole in the bag that its contents spilled from.

  I quickly gathered the wealth up and stuck it in my satchel. Wow, that was easy. The path was lined with small huts, so I picked the closest one. Before I could even step inside, though, a pillager came out and shoved a sack of loot into my arms.

  “Oh, hello,” he said. “When did you start?”

  “Today,” I answered automatically.

  “Well, good to have you. Go lend Dorna a hand.”

  I hesitated. I wasn’t supposed to be helping anyone. “Who’s Dorna?” I asked. I wandered around the town and gathered up other loot that had been dropped. Unfortunately, it was nothing but food, wood carvings, and fancy cloths.

  I heard a quiet nickering behind me, turned, and ducked quickly to avoid being skewered. A pure white unicorn with a pearlescent horn tossed his head and closed the distance between us. He sniffed at me and my robe as if looking for a treat, which made it very difficult to dodge his horn. I was in awe, really, but I was also perturbed. Unicorns were widely known to dislike sorcerers, so the fact that this one was acting like I was his favorite person did not bode well for my mission.

  “Please go away,” I whispered, desperately hoping no one saw me with him. When he turned and pranced off, exactly as I had asked, I
felt disappointed. Unicorns were rare and beautiful, but I had an image to keep up.

  Soon, I worried that I would never cause any trouble if I didn’t get to it. What’s the first step in pillaging? Well, the villagers outnumbered the raiders, but the thieves had swords and the residents didn’t. A plan dawned on me.

  I looked around for the closest object and picked a cluster of wildflowers. Then I pulled my wand out with my free hand and waved it at the bouquet. Make these flowers like a sword. Magic shot through the wand and into the flowers… but it didn’t stop there. Sparkly blue energy jumped to the nearest sword and from that into another until every sword in the village changed into harmless flowers. My flowers remained just that.

  Oh, no.

  The raiders stared in shock at their colorful bouquets, as did the villagers. Then one resident made a cry of victory and all the thieves turned to run like their tails were on fire. Taking advantage, the residents chased them, waving their bread and rolls of cloth threateningly. I groaned when they all gathered around me.

  They didn’t look frightened. “You are the only wizard brave enough to help a humble town like this,” one man said. Everyone else cheered with undue glee.

  “Thank you, but I’m not a wizard; I’m a powerful and malevolent sorcerer.”

  The man frowned. “Oh… well, you were pretty frightening before you defeated the pillagers. You can yell at us a bit if it would help.”

  I shrugged. “No, I don’t think there’s much point now. However, it would be great if you could make it sound like I was part of the trouble. I’m trying to build a reputation.”

  He looked around at his own people and several of them nodded. “Certainly. We can tell everyone you led the pillagers. What is your name, young sir?”

  “Ayden Dracre.”

  His complexion blanched. “Dracre is a well-known name in these parts, but we never knew they had a wizard— I mean a blond sorcerer. I wish we could offer you something in gratitude, but we have very little.”