The Hedge Wizard

“You own a manor now, Hump,” Vivienne said. “Did you expect me to keep it clean myself? I hired staff on your behalf.”

“Staff?” Hump asked. He looked at the three people standing before him. “These are my employees?”

“Three of them in fact. Joseph and Lara both live in the servant’s quarters and take care of the household. Malary comes over each afternoon to prepare dinner. They’ve all been excellent, so treat them well.”

“I see,” Hump said. “Well, good to meet you all. Sorry to be so surprised.”

Nisha breathed in excitedly, barely holding herself back from barrelling into them.

Good girl, Hump reassured her.

They made their way inside, Nisha’s gaze moving between Joseph, Lara, and Malary.

“Is she a dragon?” Lara asked. She was a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Her brown hair was braided neatly behind her head.

“A wolf dragon. Yes,” Hump said.

“Can I say hello?”

And that was it. Nisha exploded forward, her entire body trembling in excitement. Hump smiled as Lara held her hands up in a panic, wide eyed as the little dragon raced around her feet, brushing up against her legs.

Don’t jump! Hump ordered through their bond. While she was little compared to Igni, she was bigger than most dogs now. Easily enough to barrel someone over.

Vivienne laughed and walked inside. “Would you bring us some tea, Joseph,” Vivienne asked. “And perhaps some cakes.”

“Of course.” He looked at Hump. “Should I prepare baths, Master Humphrey?”

“Please just call me, Hump. I can’t take the formality. I’m not used to it.”

The old man smiled. “Then allow me to be the first to help you grow used to it, Sir.”

“Don’t bother,” Vivienne said. “I’ve already tried everything. Joseph is a stickler for the rules.”

“I see. In which case, baths would be great. We have a dinner this evening with the countess.”

“Then I shall have them prepared swiftly, along with some evening wear for you and Mistress Celaine.”

“Thank you, Joseph.”

“Right,” Vivienne said. “While all that’s happening, let’s sit down for a chat. We have much to catch up on.”

They took a seat in the living room, Hump calling Nisha away from the maid and trying to get her to settle down inside. Instead, she raced around sniffing everything.

Hump looked around feeling like a stranger in his own house. Vivienne had filled the bookshelves in the room with her own books, furnished it herself, hung paintings she’d selected herself. She’d looked after it fantastically.

“So, what is it you have to tell me?” Vivienne asked.

There was a lot. More than a lot, but Hump decided to start with the thing closest to the old man. He discussed his progress with the River and Wavs and Spirit Well techniques, culminating with his advancement with the latter and the discovery of Spirit Overflow. For each, he let Vivienne see the relevant page in the Book of Infinite Pages, also showing her Wielder of the Winds and the detailed note that came with it.

Wielder of the Winds

External Essence | Tier 5

Description

To wield the Winds of Essence is to understand the Will of the World and harmonise with it. This essence technique lies in a wizard’s capacity to perceive and interact with the subtle energies that permeate the natural world, aligning themselves with their ebb and flow. By attuning with these currents of magical force, one can draw upon a vast reservoir of power.

Notes

y.256 – Nithrand – A fundamental technique that requires an understanding of the intent and natural inclination of the world’s energies, to wield them in a way that works in harmony with the world, not against it. In my youth, and certainly for all who studied under my master, it was considered a prerequisite for any wizard before undertaking Soul Manifestation, for to impart one’s will upon the world without said understanding could lead to unpredictable and dangerous consequences. Today’s wizards are far more lax, and it will be to the downfall of many.

Never lose sight of the fact that we are just one small part of the world, and that we must first learn to respect it before we harness the immense strength it can offer. But, when wielded in balance, there is no end to its power.

y.817 – Lector – A warning to all those that go down this path – the Will of the World—the natural intent of everything around you—is more powerful than you can imagine. Give it too much, and it will consume you entirely, as it did Master Ajax. May he forever rest in peace and beyond the reach of all the gods.

Control the magic, or it will control you.

“Fascinating,” Vivienne said. “It’s hard to imagine a Tier 5 spell being considered a prerequisite for Soul Manifestation, particularly one as complicated and vast as Wielder of the Winds.”

Hump nodded. “That’s what I thought. It seems wizards in our age aren’t building the foundation of those in the past. Maybe that’s why so few practitioners advance to the higher ranks, and at least out of the martials and Wizard’s Society, none have reached Rank 7.”

“It seems likely. I can’t help but wonder why such knowledge disappeared.”

Hump shrugged. “No idea, but I intend to take the advice and work on these techniques further before attempting Tier 6 magic and reaching Rank 5.”

Vivienne nodded. “I encourage you to do so. I’m afraid you are beyond my ability to advise now. While I’ve been able to form a Spirit Well, I have yet to see any results even close to yours. How did you progress so quickly? Can you describe it?”

Hump spoke of his general meditation, then of how he’d brought down the roof of a dungeon, wielding the winds of essence.

“Fascinating,” Vivienne said. “I have touched the winds, but I have never done so intentionally. Sometimes it just… comes.”

“It was thanks to the teachings of a Shaman called Ado,” Hump said. “He was of the sixth circle and very knowledgeable about nature and essence. Speaking of which, Owayln granted me an affinity with nature magic.”

Vivienne stared at him then let out a breath. “And all that in six months.”

“That’s not all.” Hump reached into his pouch and took out the lich’s phylactery, Walt still inside.

Vivienne’s face paled. “What is that, Hump?” There was fear in her voice.

“The former phylactery of a lich queen,” Hump said, grinning. “It is now possessed by a friend of ours—Walt. A spirit we found in the Fallen Lands—you’ve got nothing to worry about. More important is what’s inside the phylactery.”

Vivienne peered inside.

“I don’t see anything,” Vivienne said.

“Give him a moment. He likes to nap.” Hump focused his essence into the stone, feeding it with power and waking Walt up.

“Hi there,” Walt said, groggily.

“Walt, this is Vivienne.”

“Ah, the one that can read the books. Hump’s mentioned you.”

“Books?” Vivienne asked.

Hump nodded. “Inside is a pocket dimension that stores a library of books collected by the lich. So far, we’ve only accessed the first room and it’s all in ancient Alveronian. Vivi, I think I may have uncovered a stash of ancient spells and wizardry. One that the Pantheon didn’t manage to get their hands on.”

Vivienne leant forward in her chair. “Are you certain?”

“They’re definitely books in another language, and they’re stored in the library of a lich. Exactly what they are, I can’t say for sure.”

Vivienne stood up, pacing the room. “No, you’re most likely correct. At the very least, there should be something. In which case, this is a great discovery—perhaps the greatest discovery of magical knowledge in decades.”

“I knew you’d be keen on this one,” Hump said. “There’s still more to tell you. I met a true dragon. Spoke to a goddess—oh and the Pantheon stole their powers from an ancient wizard, who made my spellbook from the heartstone of a silver owl called Glynadril.”

“What—slow down Hump. Start from the beginning.”

Celaine laughed at his side. “You’re out of breath.”

Hump gave her an unamused look. “Go on then, you tell her.”

Celaine spoke of their time in Drakalyn, with Hump pitching in here and there. He left out some parts, like the fact that Owalyn was free of her bindings—not even Celaine knew that. That was their secret. He retold the story of the Wandering Wizard, reading straight from his notebook where he’d written it down as closely as he could.

“You must never repeat this,” Vivienne said. “Not to anyone. Not even your own party members.”

“I know,” Hump said.

Celaine sighed. “I know I agreed when we talked about it before, but I kind of hoped Vivienne might think differently. Bud and Dylan should know that it’s possible the gods are not who they believe.”

“It is one story from an enemy of the Pantheon,” Vivienne said. “There are a thousand more that say otherwise, and many more that are different still. This would do nothing for them, but it could bring harm. That’s not even mentioning the risk of the gods finding out where this new rumour might have started. Hump would hardly be the first wizard slain as a heretic.”

“I do hate hiding it from them,” Hump said.

“Some things people are better off not knowing,” Vivienne said. “The day may come when their faith is challenged, but it is not now.”

“If a second War of the Firmament comes, I think all of us will see the world in a whole new light,” Hump said. “You should have seen it, Vivi. The scale of their magic. It was… apocalyptic. The foot soldiers were more powerful than any of us, and a minor god had magic that killed them in an instant. If such strength came to Alveron…” Hump trailed off, lost in imagining the scale of such death.

“We would be no more,” Vivienne finished. “But it has not come to that.”

***

“I feel ridiculous,” Celaine said. She moved her arm, the fabric of her gown catching awkwardly and making her look stiff. “Who designs such uncomfortable clothes?”

Her gown was a rich tapestry of pale reds and white. It hugged her figure gracefully before flaring out into a full, flowering skirt that stopped just above the floor. The sleeves draped past her wrists, which Celaine kept flicking back up her arms in annoyance, but the soft silks didn’t cooperate. Around her neck was a necklace with a green essence stone pendant—a gift from her mother before they’d left Drakalyn.

Hump grinned. “A genius.”

She glared at him. “You like it, do you?”

“It… has its charm.”

“It’s charm?” She scowled. “Seriously? That’s the best you can do?”

“What did you want me to say?” Hump said defensively.

“Nothing. Forget it. Let’s just go to dinner.” She headed for the door where Vivienne was already waiting, wearing a blue gown that was far subtler than Celaine’s.

Hump rolled his eyes and followed her out of the doorway.

Joseph cleared his throat as he passed by. “Master Humphrey, it is of course not my place to intrude on such matters, but might I suggest a simple compliment in the future?”

Hump glared at the butler and let out a long sigh. “I can see we’re going to get along well, Joseph. Very well indeed.”

The man’s lips twitched into a subtle smile. “I believe so too. Enjoy your evening, Sir.”

Dinner was unlike anything Hump had ever attended. He’d expected a few guests, but there had to be a hundred people gathered for the occasion. After so much time travelling and fighting with his staff, he felt a little naked surrounded by so many people and unarmed—he’d parted with it at the door, leaving it in a large room where other coats and weapons were stored. He supposed this was why the wand was favoured by many nobles.

A servant showed Hump to his seat, pulling the chair out for him and helping him take his place. He was close to the centre of the table, near to where Countess Daston would be sat. Celaine was opposite him, flanked on one side by the daughter of some noble, and on the other Corvin—his party had been the reason Hump and his own party had made it to the Tree of Damnation. Kesha, the only other survivor of the group, sat beside him. She had lost an arm in the battle, but it seemed the cleric had successfully reattached it. When they’d first met, Hump hadn’t gotten along with either of them at all, but Corvin had proven himself a valuable comrade in the end, right up until he’d killed the enthralled Inquisitor Abraxus. Not that Hump blamed him. The inquisitor had murdered his friends.

They exchanged pleasant greetings and made small talk of all that had happened in the time since. Hump could tell there was something… different about Corvin now. He lacked the confidence of his past, and from the sounds of it he still hadn’t gone back to battle. As a Chosen of Ordana, he should have been fighting in the Fallen Lands, but he was here instead. It couldn’t have been easy to lose so many of his party.

Soon, servants filled the table with silver cups and fine crystal, spreading out bowls of bread and fruit to snack on until dinner arrived. Fine wine and spirits were served to the guests, Hump partaking in a little for himself too.

Marcela arrived a little late, taking a seat on Hump’s right, much to Hump’s pleasure, while to his left was Sir Clarance, a Chosen under command of Sir Roderick. Keeper Tessa was a few seats closer to the centre from them, along with the most important people of Sheercliff, and right beside where Countess Daston would be. He could tell from the lack of chair. He intended to speak with her before the night ended.

Hump looked around the room for Randall, Skander, and Madeleine, but couldn’t see any of them.

“Who are you looking for?” Marcela asked. “I’m fairly good at picking out faces in crowds like this. A habit you get used to when you don’t want to get stuck next to the wrong person.”

“I was wondering about Randall,” Hump said.

“Ah. He and his house are rather out of favour at the moment. He’s made a trip to Elenvine to meet the king, but other than that, I’ve not heard much.”

“I see.”

Countess Daston was wheeled into the room and took her place at the table. She gave a toast, welcoming Tessa to Sheercliff and the country, and then the feast began. Dinner started with a crystalised item of some sort—to Hump, it didn’t look edible, but he followed Marcela’s example, cracking it with a spoon before digging into a crunchy, savoury dish. The food only became more exotic from there as dish after dish was carried out by servants. All of it almost unrecognisable, and decorated to look like various things, from lush, green forests to the ocean shores.

After the meal, they were led into the garden where an ensemble played music. Hump did his best to enjoy the evening, dealing with all manner of strangers approaching him with knowledge of who he was. It was strange—very strange—but there was only one thing on his mind. As the evening started to wind down, he saw his moment to get Countess Daston alone.

“Could you get my staff, Celaine,” Hump asked. “I’m going to lure the countess away.”

“Good luck,” Celaine said. “I’ll find you when I have it.”

“I’ve got something to ask Countess Daston,” Hump said to Marcela. “Could you distract the crowds for a moment so that I can get her attention?”

“What is it?” Marcela asked.

“Something I think I can help her with.”

Marcela was frowning by then but nodded anyway. “Then I can certainly do that.”

Together, they walked up to Countess Daston. Marcela started to talk with the other guests, while Hump leant down to the countess’ ear.

“Would it be possible for us to speak in private?” Hump asked. “I would wait, but I think you might like what I have to show you.”

The countess gave him an inquisitive look, studying him. Hump wondered what she saw with her foresight in that moment, but she nodded. “Of course.”

She made excuses and then led Hump into the same room where she had rewarded them for their actions in Sheercliff, and where he had first met Count Daston. Along the way, Hump caught Marcela and Vivienne’s eye, calling both of them to him.

“So, Humphrey, what is this about?” Countess Daston said with a smile. “Things were just starting to liven up.”

“I have something I’d like to try on you,” Hump said. “While I’m unsure if it will help, I might be able to do something about your condition.”

Hump was surprised when the countess appeared displeased at the suggestion. “I’m sure your intentions are well meaning, but nothing can be done. I’m waiting for an audience with the Grand Priest, who may be able to help me.”

The Grand Priest—the most senior of all Chosen, and the leader of the Pantheon. While there were no accurate figures, it was said that he was of the ninth circle.

“I still think this would be worth your time,” Hump said. “I wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t.”

Celaine arrived then, stepping into the room with his staff.

“What in the world is going on?” Countess Daston asked. “Vivienne, did you speak with them about this?”

“I did,” she said. “And I believe it’s worth your time.”

“Nothing can be done,” Countess Daston insisted. “I have accepted that—”

“Mother,” Marcela interrupted. “Please just give them a chance. When has Hump ever done wrong by us?”

Countess Daston hardly seemed pleased. Hump couldn’t blame her. This woman was one of the most powerful Chosen in the kingdom, and now she had to sit back in her city unable to fight for it.

“Very well,” she said.

Hump took his staff and held it out for her to see. “This artifact is called the Silver Sprig. It was gifted to me by Owalyn herself, created from the power of the Great Tree.”

“You spoke with a goddess?” Marcela asked in amazement.

Countess Daston said nothing, but her eyes widened as she gazed at the artifact.

“With your permission, my lady, I would like to try it on you.”

She gave a small nod and reached out to clutch Marcela’s hand. She squeezed and swallowed. “Do it.”

Hump took a breath, then focused on the Silver Sprig, releasing his intent into the leaves. He would use every bit of power the artifact possessed.

The leaves shone like razorblades, gleaming with essence. Silver light radiated from them and rained from them in dust. The power blossomed, then poured over Countess Daston until she herself was radiant, the light filling the room. Hump continued to channel the power, driving it to heal her. To fix whatever was wrong with her. To imbue her with its healing energies and the powers granted to it by a goddess. One by one, the leaves were drained of their light, until they were silver no more, and simple green leaves remained.

They all looked at Countess Daston. Hump took a step back, watching her.

She released Marcela’s hand and gripped the arms of her wheelchair. With faltering steps, she pushed herself up, stumbling slightly before Marcela caught her. The two women laughed. Hump saw tears in Marcela’s eyes. With her help, Countess Daston continued forward a few more steps before returning to her wheelchair, already out of breath.

Celaine squeezed Hump’s shoulder, smiling. Vivienne laughed, clapping her hands.

“I will need some time to recover my strength,” Countess Daston said. “My muscles have atrophied while I was in that damn chair, but I believe it worked.” A broad smile came over her face.

“Good,” Hump said. “I know this could have technically waited until tomorrow, but it’s been all I could think about since I saw you.”

Countess Daston shook her head. “Humphrey…” she took a breath, steadying herself. “You are no mere friend of the Dastons. You are family. Not only did you save our city, you have saved me. If there is ever anything you need, you will have it. My eyes, my ears, my sword, and my word—they are yours.”

Hump didn’t know what to say. “It’s nothing. I had the artifact, and you needed the help. That’s all there is to it. All I ask is that you keep my involvement in this quiet.”

“Of course,” Countess Daston said, her eyes going to the Silver Sprig. “If word of such an artifact’s existence spread, there is no limit to what people might do for it.”

Marcela stepped forward and stopped in front of Hump, bowing her head, tearing trailing her face. “I won’t forget this, Hump. Ever.”

Hump swallowed nervously.

“Come on,” Vivienne said. “Why don’t we give the two of them some privacy. I think the three of us will take our leave now, my lady. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

***

Marcela watched Hump go, still trying to comprehend what she’d just witnessed. She still remembered the day he showed up at the academy, wearing little more than rags, and a wizard no less. At the time, she hadn’t even registered that Bud wasn’t the leader of the party. It didn’t cross her mind that Hump was anyone she needed to speak with.

And now he had returned with the divine gift of a goddess and used it to heal her mother. The Hero of Sheercliff. The White Flame.

“I sense much in that boy’s future,” Mother said.

Marcela nodded. “I have never heard you make such a pledge. I’m not sure he understood what it meant.”

“He will one day. If he ever needs us, we will show him.”

“Are you sure it was a good idea to make such a commitment?”

“I’m willing to bet our name on it. Wizard Humphrey will amount to great things. I could sense it, even today. He will play a part in the future of this world.”

Marcela glanced back to make sure Hump was out of earshot. “Seeing him now, I believe you.”

Her mother smiled. “You would do well to bring him onto our side.”

“He’s already on our side. The only way he could be more on…”

Her mother looked at her suggestively.

“Oh.” Marcela gawked at her mother. “But you told me you would never force me to marry.”

“Your father and I never would.” A cheeky smirk came over her mother’s face. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t prod you toward a suitable candidate.”

Suitable? Hump was quite a bit younger than her and not of noble blood. He wasn’t bad looking, but he wasn’t particularly handsome. What he had was a good heart and an indomitable spirit—two things the world needed more of.

“It won’t happen. He is too enamoured with Celaine. Besides, he’s too young for me.”

“Not even I can predict the future with such certainty.”

Marcela glared at her mother. She wouldn’t do it. They were friends, and that was enough. If there was one thing that Hump had proven, it was that he looked after his friends well.”