The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 12: An Intrepid Expedition

"Come and watch, ladies and gentlemen!" roared a man dressed in a multi-coloured tunic. He waved similarly-coloured flags over his head. His face was red with the effort. "Come and observe the great mage, the Caster who wields Wind without a staff! Come gasp at his talent, come swoon at his skills! Come on, ladies and gentlemen – come and see the Free Style Caster!"

"Did you hear that?" whispered Tia, yanking at Mommu's arm. Mommu stumbled, giving her a reproachful look after she'd pulled him away from a shop selling miniature versions of carriers, which he had rather fancied. He then gave the shouting man a worried glance as his heart rate began to pick up again at a familiar rate.

"Is that even possible?"

Enlil scrutinised the noisy man who was hollering more advertisement to other passers-by.

"He's not the Caster," he said. "He's just a sidekick. Maybe he's paid to attract customers."

"Then where is the Caster?" Tia asked, turning this way and that as though expecting a Windcaster to burst out of the busy shops lining the street. A crowd had begun to gather around the new stage. The speaker waved more enthusiastically, drawing in even more intrigued walkers.

The rabble started to die down and everyone focused their attention on a figure in a dark cloak emerging from the back. His entire figure was swamped in the thick material, the hem of which swished about his feet as he stepped his way to the middle. Mommu could feel power emanating from the mysterious presence. The mob fell to silence, leaving only the distant chatter of people eating and noises from faraway shows.

"No way..." Mommu said under his breath, grey eyes going as round as the moon. He gripped the front of his tunic with disbelief, his fists shaking. The man had held out his two hands, palms facing upward and fingers spread wide, the long sleeves falling back up to his elbows. There was an inkling of an elegant rose on his left wrist. His hands were empty.

He really is going to Cast without a staff, Mommu thought in wonderment.

The energy in the air stilled. He could feel the shift in the power concentrating towards the strange character. To the crowd, nothing was happening yet, but something dramatic was about to occur.

"That is a Caster?" The surprise in Tia's voice was palpable. "Wow," she breathed, eyes going as round as Mommu's. Even Enlil was wordless.

A pile of leaves that had been placed at the man's feet stirred. Two leaves lifted upwards slowly, jerkily, without the natural movement of normal wind. It then fluttered and fell to his feet; then, one by one, the leaves jerked upwards by themselves until they floated in a straight line, one after the other, at eye-level to the spectators.

No staff! Mommu's thoughts were like a whirlwind, caught off-guard by the expertise. No concentration point! Pure energy!

A murmur of disbelief coursed through the viewers.

"That is not possible!" said a man to his wife, next to the three young people. "A Caster who can Cast without a staff? It is unheard of!"

"Not unheard of," said another man, a grin curling at his lips. "I hear some of the great Windcasters of Dernexes are capable of doing that, but not many. A few of the older ones refuse to believe this to be a new branch of Wind magic but I think a few of the younger Censors have managed this."

"How do you know?" Tia asked. The man tapped his nose and winked at her.

"Information is worth more than gold, young miss, but mark my words." His dark eyes flickered over to the hooded figure. "That man up there is no ordinary Windcaster. He must at least be a Consul."