Tale of a Hedonistic wizard

The immemorial art of Empyrean magic, it's the most profound and mysterious magic he has ever seen. Even the Tome of Runarlore didn't have much information about it. Although it helped him understand the level of the arts.

"You didn't say, When would you leave my mind?" Jaegar asked, breaking the silence.

"If you help me get the other two flames, then I will."

Jaegar frowned and said, "And where would I find them?"

Thinking about his past in the forest, he didn't know how he ended up in that cave. It was like something led him there on purpose. Those creatures came after him, and he ended up in the valley.

Jaegar asked, "Before that, when I entered the temple, I heard a voice, calling my name. Was it you?"

"No."

Jaegar's frown deepened. Then who was it, that led him there? Was someone behind it?

He didn't like being unaware, but whatever happened, it only made him powerful. So he had quenched himself for now and thought of getting this damned god out of his head for now.

"Okay, I will help you."

Deity's voice was elated upon hearing him and said, "You will!"

"So, where are they now?"

"I can feel them, but it's not very precise. For now, you seem to be heading in the right direction. I will tell you when I feel the connection grows stronger; until then, I will be taking rest."

Jaegar sighed as he couldn't say anything about the deity, but he said, "Yeah, whatever. But be sure to not peek into my mind, and I am warning you now; you will be seeing very nasty stuff further in the future."

The voice shot back, "What are you talking about?"

"If I were you, I would just focus on getting my power back."

Deity's rang before going out: "You don't have to worry about me. I am still far from recovered."

His voice faded as he no longer responded.

***

Jaegar walked to his bed and slumped on it.

Exhausted but satisfied, Jaegar stretched out on the narrow bed. He had made progress, but there was still work to be done.

His innate abilities and his learned arcane arts were like two powerful rivers converging, and he needed to ensure they flowed together harmoniously rather than clashing in destructive turbulence.

He slept fitfully for a few hours, his dreams filled with swirling colors and whispered incantations.

When he awoke, the sun was high in the sky. Jaegar forced himself to eat the simple breakfast provided by the inn - a hunk of bread, some cheese, and an apple - even though his appetite was diminished by his intense focus on his arcane work.

The rest of the day was spent in deep meditation. Jaegar barely moved from his cross-legged position on the floor, focused. In his mind, he continued to work on balancing and stabilizing his arcane energies.

In his mind itself, the Tome of Runarlore was present, the origin book of spells. He visualized complex arcane formulae, mental constructs that helped him channel and control his powers.

Slowly, the chaotic swirls of energy in his mind's eye began to take on more structured forms.

Jaegar imagined weaving these energies into intricate patterns, like a master craftsman creating a tapestry of pure magic.

As dusk fell once again, Jaegar finally allowed himself to emerge from his meditative state. His body ached from the prolonged stillness, but his mind felt clearer and more focused. The raw power within him hadn't diminished, but it now felt more controlled, more like a tool he could wield with precision rather than a wild force threatening to overwhelm him.

The immemorial arts of Empyrean magic were proving to be the most complex magic he had ever come across. It appeared to be hazardous as he grew stronger. He understood that he needed to keep control of the arts. This art of magic, as the flame deity said, was the old magic, a power wielded by the gods themselves.

With the goddess' help, he had it under control.

Hungry after his day-long fast, Jaegar decided to return to the tavern. The streets were quiet as he made his way through town; most of the day's business concluded. A few locals eyed him curiously as he passed, but no one paid him much attention.

The tavern was less crowded than the previous night, with a more subdued atmosphere. Jaegar took a seat at the bar, nodding to the now-familiar barmaid.

"Evening, traveller," she greeted him. "What'll it be tonight?"

"I'll have the mackerel again," Jaegar replied. "If it's as good as yesterday's."

The barmaid smiled. "Cook will be pleased to hear that. And to drink?"

"Ale, please. A large one."

As he waited for his food, Jaegar found his thoughts turning to the journey ahead. It had been a long time since he last saw his aunt, and he hoped that she was all right. Angelina and his friends, he missed all of them.

Lorcan was a man he wouldn't forget, even if he wanted. He will be sure to talk to him and make him pay dearly for what he did to Jaegar.

His musings were interrupted by the arrival of his meal. The mackerel was just as delicious as he remembered, perfectly seasoned and grilled. Jaegar ate slowly, savouring each bite and washing it down with swigs of rich ale.

As he ate, he couldn't help but overhear snatches of conversation from the other patrons. Most of it was typical tavern talk: complaints about work, local gossip, discussions of the weather, and trade. But one conversation between two grizzled sailors at a nearby table caught his attention.

"...heard the war between the two kingdoms is over," one sailor was saying, his voice low but carrying in the quiet tavern. "The word around is that they were a sorcerer who single-handedly crushed the Daikrimore's army."

His companion grunted. "Did it now? Those people of Daikrimore are presumptuous to think they could take over Wrescia. And what do you mean by a sorcerer? How could a single man go against an army? Don't be ridiculous." Stay updated through M-V-L

"No, I heard from my cousin; he came from Wrescia recently," the first sailor insisted. "Whispers of a dark mage being employed by the Wrescia are being circled around the kingdom."