Wyrd: Book One of the Witch War Trilogy - WATTYS 2018 WINNER!

Chapter 10: Where Joel Lends an Ear

Joel's ear hopped off his head, and walked away – on adorable little legs – to squeeze under the door and listen in. Joel was pretty chuffed with himself. He'd adapted a body extension spell from one of the oldest Golden Era books in the Citadel library.

The spell was used to 'disembody' your own hand so it could reach or fetch or move great distances without being attached to your body. The incantation was very handy, he'd thought, but what would happen if you used it for other body parts? So he'd tried and succeeded, first with an errant leg that could hop and kick, then with a wayward ear that just lay there listlessly. He switched up the spell and changed the wording until he managed to give the ear some minor sentience and mini responsive appendages – and now, it was perfect for spying.

It didn't really matter that he could have just cast a generic magnify hearing spell. This was way, way more his style.

Spell creation was something that people didn't do anymore. Firstly, there weren't enough talented and powerful arcane spellcasters to be bothered. Secondly, there were tomes and tomes of spells that already existed from which to choose and which no-one had exhaustively tested. Thirdly, those spells were tried and true, and didn't involve experimentation ... that could (and often did) go horribly wrong.

But making spells was what Joel had always felt he was meant to do. Unfortunately, as a rebel in a time of war – and as the only known caster with four different magic aptitudes – the world disagreed; he was a valuable weapon, not an artist with skrit writing. And, so it was.

But he still liked to dabble. And, he thought, it wasn't his magic that defined him: it was his creativity and his sense of humor. Joel didn't want to be the greatest magician or the greatest warrior. Hells, all he wanted, all he had ever wanted, was peace. To feel safe to pursue his dreams of crafting his own spells. Not that that did him any good at the moment – his time and effort were monopolized by his duty to protect, to do what was right, and to strive for a better world. With his talents – that many seemed to envy – came a weighty responsibility. His aptitudes were both a gift and a burden. He hadn't asked to be able to affect the world in such a significant way, so if he was going to have a life expectancy of less than thirty, he figured he might as well squeeze as much enjoyment out of living as was humanly, sinfully, possible. Make tweed out of twine, as they say.

Which was exactly why his attentions were currently divided. His ear was listening in on the colossal argument happening behind the heavy oaken doors of Jorah's Grand Magistrate office, but his eyes were following the pretty new teacher at COTR, the Children of the Revolution Academy, who was wending her way down the hall with an enticing wiggle.

Joel was leaning against the wall, nonchalantly, looking rather cool, if he did think so himself. He'd heard her name was Lisa. She had a pretty librarian look going for her – brunette with bangs and a high bun, great big glasses hiding beautiful big, brown eyes, short, and curvy in all the right places. She was probably in her mid-twenties – to his nineteen – but he liked a more mature woman. To be honest, he just liked women in general: the way they smiled and flirted coquettishly, how their hair always smelled like flowers, that there was always something aesthetically pleasing to admire whether it was the elegance of a long slender neck or the way the bounce in their step made their ...

"Lisa, isn't it?," He inquired conversationally.

She turned back, books clasped to her chest, and smiled at him, blushing bashfully.

"Yes. And you're ... Joel?" she asked in a sweet, high voice that sounded like the chiming of bells. Unfortunately, the loud yelling in his right ear was making it difficult to concentrate. Which was particularly annoying because Lisa seemed awfully sweet.