The thought of stealing, even from such reprehensible folk, left him a little queasy. Still, he did as he was told and cast a spell of his own making with a wave of his hand that created a magical holding bag with which he could store any items he ‘recovered.’
Everything at the ready, he made his way through the building’s rows and rows of boxes. Every so often, the Sage Mind would have him stop and pick up one artifact or another. Most of them were put back down shortly thereafter, being surprisingly useless, though a few odds and ends did make their way into Teryn’s bag.
The young mage continued his way through the rows of boxes and crates, getting closer to the center of the building where, he assumed, the more powerful artifacts would be waiting. He found several racks containing various potions of healing, speed, strength, even intellect. He took note of them but had little use for any of these vials, so he left them all behind. Then he caught a glimpse of a few shiny objects a little further on that really caught his eye. There was a box of entombment, a ring of polymorphic, some mind-control pills, and a mirror of deathself.
Some juvenile part of his brain had always wanted to place a mirror like that in a women’s dressing room just to see what would happen to the unsuspecting victims, but of course he’d never had access to one. He took a moment to chuckle about it, but ultimately left it behind. However, he snatched up the box and ring at the Sage Mind’s behest.
Shortly past those items, he came across a small altar. On top of the altar stood a device the Sage Mind referred to as a ‘glow-sword.’ Teryn vaguely remembered seeing something that looked like it in Gallian’s book somewhere, but not what it did. Nor did he know how to wield a sword in general.
But the Sage Mind insisted it was quite rare and powerful, so he took it anyway.
A few aisles further down, he saw something that looked like a glowing altar in the distance. He thought for sure something powerful would be held there, so he ran towards it, only to pass right through it and fall on his face.
“Znark!” Teryn exclaimed, frustrated at his clumsiness. He got up and rubbed his shins to relieve a little bit of the pain and took another look around.
This archive was under guard and lock and key, and he’d already passed by the traps, so it didn’t make sense for another illusion to be present in the middle of the archives.
Unless, he reasoned, unless it was hiding something so powerful that someone in the Guild Council would want to hide it even from the other councilmembers. Surely, that had to be it.
Teryn conjured another havealooksy spell and scanned the area where the fake altar had been. Instantly, he saw the object he had tripped over. It was an oblong-shaped bundle wrapped in plain canvas, around three to four feet long. Eagerly, he reached for it and ripped away the canvas.
What laid before him was a sheathed sword that was all at once foreign and memorable. He could sense immense magical power coming from the blade. He placed one hand gingerly on the hilt, but the Sage Mind stopped him before he could draw it forth.
Careful there, buddy, it said. You don’t want to wield that sword without its brethren. An image came to him of a child wagging its finger at him.
He gasped. “You don’t mean...?”
Yes, the blade you hold in your hand is none other than the Sword of Wisdom. Your birthright.
“Yes, I remember it now,” Teryn said, the memory coming back to him. “My father said it had been in our family for generations. That must mean . . . I’m related to Sage Gallian!”
As Teryn said the last part, he recalled how Gallian had mentioned in the book that he was going to give the Sword of Wisdom to a relative. Inwardly, he beamed at the thought of being related to such a powerful ancient figure, as if it made him all the more important and powerful by proxy.
A distant relative, to be sure, the Sage Mind chided. If you weren’t, you likely never would have had Sage-level magic talents, and you certainly never would have been able to channel Tytin magic like you did earlier.
“Tytin magic?” Teryn asked, his head cocked to the side. “You mean like when I told the Guild Council to go away and they disappeared?”
You’re a quick study. He saw an image of a man clapping. Yes, like that. Most humans can never even dream of using Tytin-level powers. Only those with specific bloodlines. It’s also the only reason we’re able to talk to each other. We’re related. Well, sort of.
“We are?” He felt even more confused than before.
Like I said, sort of. I’m the consciousness of the common Sage ancestor. The ‘one that started it all,’ if you will. I’ve been around since, well, since the beginning, I guess. Everyone with Sage powers is descended from my lineage one way or another. So there you have it, I’m like your great-great-great-great grandpappy or something.
“Wow,” Teryn replied. The knowledge left him curious and mildly excited. “I had no idea.”
Why would you? This time, the image was of a teenage boy shrugging and throwing his arms wide, palm up. It’s not like there are many of us left, not since Gallian’s big mistake that he wrote about in that book of his. But don’t let this go to your head. Unlike myself, you’re still quite mortal.
“I guess you’re right,” Teryn muttered.
Don’t act all glum, either. With me on your side to help you and guide you, you’re sure to screw up less than Gallian ever
