Thales collected his staff and threw on his robe. "It would be easiest to explain while I do my practice."

A thin seafaring mist shrouded the city that morning. Skippii accompanied Thales as he wandered the streets seemingly aimlessly. But each place they went, he found somebody in need of his help: an urchin in the gutter who needed cleaning, a cat with a broken paw, or an old man who had no pipe-leaf for his morning smoke. Thales helped each in what capacity he could, and asked for no payment in return. His departing words were the same. "Pantes hēmeis heautōn kȳrioi."

"We are all our own masters," he translated as they moved on through the foggy streets. "It is the motto of our rebellion."

"How many of you are there?" Skippii asked. "How strong?"

"We were few to begin with. Now I fear, fewer still."

"Would your rebellion ally with Auctorian legions?"

"Certainly," Thales said. "If it meant a Philoxenia free of heresy. Though we will submit to no pantheon. Those gods abandoned us long ago, and ever since we have sought our own means of mastery."

Suddenly, Thales stopped by the door of a house which overlooked a wide cobblestone street. He knocked on the door and it was answered quickly by a young woman. Sorrow was in her face and blood stained her tunic. Thales spoke to her softly, but she did not respond. Finally, he lay a hand upon her cheek and left.

"We must find a herbalist. Have you money to pay?"

"I do," Skippii said. "I have a few coins stored in our tower. But most of what I'm owed is held by the legion's financier."

"Good. We should head that way and collect what you can spare."

"Herbs empower your magia?"

"Of a sorts," he said.

Skippii scowled as a sudden thought occurred. "My mother. Did she have this gift too?"

"No." Thales smiled fondly. "Not at first... I first went to her for herblore, but I returned for her friendship. And, in time, she teased out of me a knowledge of my craft. However, I could not accept her as my disciple, and she could not commit to the practice, as she was already devoted to the God Aequentia. You see, the astral cannot draw upon thaugia itself. Only we who have no masters may master ourselves, and the naturalis of the mortal realm."

"What is thaugia?" Skippii asked. "I've not heard that term before."

"You won't have. It has been buried for centuries. It means miracle work. Long before men and women devoted themselves to the Gods, there were a few who wielded powers that reshaped the world. I call it the naturalis, but you have spoken of it as Primordial power. I think they are the same–your lingo and mine."

Skippii listened keenly, as he had done many times in his youth during Thales' lectures. Each new word–each revealing information–he placed as a tile, forming a mosaic of comprehension in his mind.

"Then, magia is the Gods' transformation of thaugia?" he said. "In the beginning, there were the Primordials, and the Gods twisted their powers into magia. Now our magi invoke it. The same must go for the incursor gods, and their heretics. They have twisted some primordial force–some essence of the naturalis–perhaps from beyond this realm, and bent it as a weapon. That must be it. I've never seen anything like what Cosmipox possessed. A blackness, like the void of the sky at night. Perhaps that is it."

"As best I understand it, you are correct," Thales said. "Though, I can scarcely paint my powers with the same brush as yours. You embodied them like I have never seen before. A thaugic practitioner could spend their entire lifetime meditating with the earth and only master a fraction of what you have accomplished in mere days."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"I have an advantage," Skippii explained. "Oyaltun herself merged with the seed of Cor, and created my lineage. And I am not entirely astray, not anymore. Oyaltun has spoken to me–shown me visions which have proven very fortuitous. Though, I do not think others of the pantheon will be my ally."

Thales was silent for a moment. "Are you sure of this?"

"I was skeptical at first. But the evidence is immutable now. I have shared the sight of others–spoken into their minds. It was only brief, but it couldn't have been an illusion. Furthermore, Oyaltun led me to the temple atop the Sleeping Mountain, where I accelerated my powers."

"As you mentioned before," Thales muttered. "But I struggled to believe it. Such an oddity defies my lifetime of belief."

Skippii laughed. "Oddity has become my new norm. I'm used to not knowing. Except, when I connect with the earth, there is a certainty. All of theology… the Gods and their politics… and all doubt disappears, and it's just me, and the earth, and my magia."

"Thaugia, would be the correct term," Thales said. "For no God has tainted its essence. Even if Oyaltun speaks to you, she certainly has no dominion over the earth."

Thales' staff clacked off the cobblestone as they wound through narrow alleyways, shaded by the branching upper-stories of dwellings. The smell of baking bread wafted from some cosy nook; children chirped hungrily, but a woman's voice snuffed them, steady and firm.

Skippii smiled. "Life goes on."

"All the more with our help," said Thalas.

"What exactly are your abilities?" Skippii asked excitedly. "Do you have an ordinatio? A list of evocations?"

"A list? Do you have a list of feelings? Are there a list of clouds in the sky, or what flowers have budded on the earth this day? No. My practice does not work that way. Where there is a need, there is an absence. And always, there is a balance that must be righted. I may fill the cup, and tip the scale. But thaugia is circumstantial. It is not a will to change the world, but rather, seek to restore the balance."

Skippii pondered his next words carefully, and felt like a child once more, not wanting to seem a fool to the old philosopher.

"And what essences may you manipulate."

"I know of eight upon this realm." Thales' gaze turned to the sky. "But as you have suggested, there may be more above and elsewhere that we do not know."

Skippii licked his lips eagerly. "Do you possess the power to oppose the incursor gods?"

"No," he laughed. "Thaugia does not lend itself to great power, unlike magia, which has been amplified by the gods. Another reason is that yours is unique, and peculiar."

They arrived at their tower, and Skippii sprinted up and down the steps to collect his purse. Handing it to Thales, he noticed once more the marks on his wrists–painful red welts from rubbing chains.

"Why don't you heal your wounds with the same thaugia?" he asked.

"What, these?" he said. "Oh, but I already have. There are more who require my attention, and more immediately, and my power is not so limitless as yours, as you have told it."

"Could I help?" he asked.

Thales appraised him with those old keen eyes, and for a moment, Skippii could swear he was ten years old again, answering questions to riddles which the old philosopher posed.

"There is only the power of Cor within you," he said finally. "But that is enough, I am sure, for your own errand."

"Then I will have need of you," Skippii said bashfully. "My quest is of utmost importance. I will seek the incursors, and once my strength has grown to match them, I shall challenge them. But I will need help along the way, and you have skills which none others possess. Not to my knowledge."

Thales' face grew stern, and he led them towards the marketplace in a prolonged silence.

"Do you know the vipers which you speak of? The heretic. The incursors. Do you know what it entails to oppose them?"

"I bested the emissary of Cosmipox upon the temples' steps-"

"But do you know their power in truth, not just that of their servants."

"I do." Skippii swallowed with a heavy heart. "I came close to them, to Cosmipox, and my life was spared. I repelled him, but I had the help of Kylin. The Stormstress came to my aid, and I think Oyaltun guided the union of allies."

"Strange." Thales said. But his sternness parted like a cloud and the sunlight returned to his face. "Never would I have thought that the young Skippii Altay would pose such riddles of his own. You've done me proud, boy, and have repaid my tutorship many times over, for this is a bountiful enigma that I might spend a lifetime unravelling."

"Then you will travel with me, and help me decipher what more riddles will come my way?"

"Of course. I would never leave you now that we are reunited. Your mother would never forgive me it."

Into the market they went, and bought what herbs and trinkets Thales required for his evocations. But before long, Skippii departed with the promise of reuniting soon. His task was elsewhere on the outskirts of Nerithon, with the chronicler at his side and the fire beneath his feet, he would master his power–a strength to change the world.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.