Read Online Wizard Dawning (The Battle Wizard Saga, No. 1) by C. M. Lance - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C. M. Lance
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help. They say consistently repeating the same wrong thing is a sure sign of lunacy."
"OK, I'll try to come up with a new approach, or some new ideas." Grampa walked over to the backpack he'd brought into the arena earlier and pulled out an ancient looking leather bound book.
He brought it over and handed it to Sig. "Study the spells marked with sticky tabs. We can try them next."
The book was heavy. The burnished leather smelled musty and showed the mottling and darkened patina of much handling. The yellow Post-It tabs were a jarring contrast against the soft, slightly cracked animal hide of the ancient looking tome.
Sig sighed. He might not be able to perform any magic, but he could study and remember.
In his last semester of high school, Sig only needed one class to graduate. He made time for the intense study and training by dropping two of the three optional advance placement classes he was taking at the local junior college. He continued the AP geology class.
†††
Sig played with his milk glass, swirling it about, while working on his second helping of dinner.
Mom watched him for a few moments before asking, "What's bothering you?"
Sig glanced at her guiltily. "What makes you think anything is wrong?"
"Because you've only had two helpings and you're fiddling around as if you're finished. We expect you to have at least one more helping," Grampa said as he peered over the spectacles that rested on the end of his nose.
Meredith smiled and nodded. "You don't seem to be yourself dear."
Sig gulped down the milk remaining in the glass and thunked it down on the table. "I always wanted to have magic. Now that I do—kind of—it's not what I thought it would be. I can't do any of the tricks Grampa tries to teach me and, meanwhile he says I'm supposed to lead the fight against dark magic. Oh yeah, and there might be a Dark Mage trying to kill me."
Mom looked down at her plate as if to conceal the concern reflected in her eyes.
"They aren't tricks," Grampa said. "They are serious tools needed for you to fulfill your destiny. And by-the-way, they are only a small part of what you need to learn."
"Great. That fills me with confidence. I can't do even a small part of what I need. That begs another question. Who decided that that is my destiny? Don't I get a say in any of this?"
"Your genes decided for you," Grampa growled. Then he glanced embarrassedly at Meredith. His face crumpled and his mouth sagged.
Sig glanced to see what caused the change in Grampa's expression. Tears were running down Mom's cheeks.
"Aw, I'm sorry Mom. We didn't mean to upset you."
She shook her head. "I'm worried about you."
Sig stood, grabbed a container of Kleenex off the kitchen counter, and brought it to her. "Don't cry. It'll be alright. I'm just frustrated because I'm trying so hard. I didn't mean all that stuff."
She swiped at her eyes with tissue, as if embarrassed at the tears. "It's not what you said that upsets me." She scrubbed at the tears running down her cheeks.
She glared at Grampa Thor then back at Sig. "As if the zombies weren't bad enough, this thing about leading the war on black magic terrifies me. You're just a boy. I don't care if you can turn into a giant. You're my little boy." Her voice caught. "I don't want you involved in a war. It's not like going to war to protect your country." She sniffed and blew her nose.
She looked back at Grampa, who had his head down, looking at his plate.
He looked up and into her eyes. "Meredith, whenever Black magic holds sway, terrible practices become standard. Human sacrifices that occurred in the ancient Indus valley, in Mesoamerica by the Mayans, Aztecs, and Incas all are the result of Dark Mages controlling those civilizations. The atrocities committed by the Third Reich and the Russian pogroms all had roots in rulers under the influence of Black magic. We are in a constant war to prevent them from dragging our civilization down. It's not a war that starts and
"OK, I'll try to come up with a new approach, or some new ideas." Grampa walked over to the backpack he'd brought into the arena earlier and pulled out an ancient looking leather bound book.
He brought it over and handed it to Sig. "Study the spells marked with sticky tabs. We can try them next."
The book was heavy. The burnished leather smelled musty and showed the mottling and darkened patina of much handling. The yellow Post-It tabs were a jarring contrast against the soft, slightly cracked animal hide of the ancient looking tome.
Sig sighed. He might not be able to perform any magic, but he could study and remember.
In his last semester of high school, Sig only needed one class to graduate. He made time for the intense study and training by dropping two of the three optional advance placement classes he was taking at the local junior college. He continued the AP geology class.
†††
Sig played with his milk glass, swirling it about, while working on his second helping of dinner.
Mom watched him for a few moments before asking, "What's bothering you?"
Sig glanced at her guiltily. "What makes you think anything is wrong?"
"Because you've only had two helpings and you're fiddling around as if you're finished. We expect you to have at least one more helping," Grampa said as he peered over the spectacles that rested on the end of his nose.
Meredith smiled and nodded. "You don't seem to be yourself dear."
Sig gulped down the milk remaining in the glass and thunked it down on the table. "I always wanted to have magic. Now that I do—kind of—it's not what I thought it would be. I can't do any of the tricks Grampa tries to teach me and, meanwhile he says I'm supposed to lead the fight against dark magic. Oh yeah, and there might be a Dark Mage trying to kill me."
Mom looked down at her plate as if to conceal the concern reflected in her eyes.
"They aren't tricks," Grampa said. "They are serious tools needed for you to fulfill your destiny. And by-the-way, they are only a small part of what you need to learn."
"Great. That fills me with confidence. I can't do even a small part of what I need. That begs another question. Who decided that that is my destiny? Don't I get a say in any of this?"
"Your genes decided for you," Grampa growled. Then he glanced embarrassedly at Meredith. His face crumpled and his mouth sagged.
Sig glanced to see what caused the change in Grampa's expression. Tears were running down Mom's cheeks.
"Aw, I'm sorry Mom. We didn't mean to upset you."
She shook her head. "I'm worried about you."
Sig stood, grabbed a container of Kleenex off the kitchen counter, and brought it to her. "Don't cry. It'll be alright. I'm just frustrated because I'm trying so hard. I didn't mean all that stuff."
She swiped at her eyes with tissue, as if embarrassed at the tears. "It's not what you said that upsets me." She scrubbed at the tears running down her cheeks.
She glared at Grampa Thor then back at Sig. "As if the zombies weren't bad enough, this thing about leading the war on black magic terrifies me. You're just a boy. I don't care if you can turn into a giant. You're my little boy." Her voice caught. "I don't want you involved in a war. It's not like going to war to protect your country." She sniffed and blew her nose.
She looked back at Grampa, who had his head down, looking at his plate.
He looked up and into her eyes. "Meredith, whenever Black magic holds sway, terrible practices become standard. Human sacrifices that occurred in the ancient Indus valley, in Mesoamerica by the Mayans, Aztecs, and Incas all are the result of Dark Mages controlling those civilizations. The atrocities committed by the Third Reich and the Russian pogroms all had roots in rulers under the influence of Black magic. We are in a constant war to prevent them from dragging our civilization down. It's not a war that starts and
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