War Of The Immortals (standard:fantasy, 1566 words)
Author: Ambrosious	Added: Feb 21 2001	Views/Reads: 3692/2291	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The Moderation has been broken, the mages are going to war.

Barnabus sat and watched the worlds turn once more upon the wheel of
time. How long he had sat like this, no one knew. His apprentice, Jax, 
kept his wine glass full and his stew hot. It was a thankless task, but 
Jax was determined to see this through to the end, just like every 
other task Barnabus had given him. Neither man had slept in days, but 
learning to overcome the body’s shortcomings was the first lesson 
learned in the art of mage-craft. Jax poured more spring wine into the 
glass sitting in front of Barnabus and started to prepare more stew. 
Maybe he would add some fresh zale grass this time. It was just 
starting to bloom, and it would add a nice peppery flavor to the 
venison stew. Jax wondered what great thinking was going on behind the 
furrowed brows of the mighty Barnabus as the stew started to come 
together. 

“Will that boy ever stop twitting around and leave me be? How can one
concentrate with all of his fussing?” was running through the mind of 
the mighty Barnabus. The old and powerful mage was thinking that all of 
his hard work as one of the creators of the Moderation had come to 
naught. The Moderation was an agreement forged a century ago by the 
warring factions of magicians, mages, wizards and warlocks. It had seen 
the land through many a crisis, and to have it in near shambles was 
more than Barnabus could bear. The younger ones among the various 
societies were hot heads, and did not remember the pain and suffering 
that centuries of war had brought to the lands, not only the mortal 
inhabitants, but to the immortal powers as well. Many a Demi-God had 
been destroyed in the wars and many a God still reeled from the spells 
cast during the war. Man thought God indestructible, and they are, but 
they could be made to feel pain. Barnabus’ own deity, Zakkur, had been 
dealt a mighty blow by an enemy of Barnabus, thinking that is where 
Barnabus drew his strength. It was with great effort that the enemy was 
taught the error of his thinking. 

The war was coming, of that Barnabus was sure. The hotheads among them
did not want to share in the distribution of power, even though their 
very nature made it necessary. The warlocks controlled the elementals. 
The magicians dealt with fates and destinies of the mortals. The 
wizards controlled the minds and the powers of the illusions. The mages 
of the world were the most and least powerful of them all, controlling 
a little of each of the three powers, but mastering none of them 
singly. The Demi-gods and Gods were the most powerful of them all, and 
Demi-gods were found to be mortal, and could be dealt a mortal blow, 
this kept them out of the earthly realm as they did not chance taking 
such blows often. The Gods could settle this whole thing with a few 
waves of their collective hands, but refused as they could only deal 
with the sections of society that worshipped them. Confusing? Yes. 
Volatile? Definitely. 

Barnabus was no closer to resolving his internal conflict and decided
that immobility was not helping to solve this problem. He roused 
himself and spoke to Jax. “Prepare our traveling satchels. It is time 
for action.” 

“Yes sir, right away,” was all Jax said and waved the stew back to it
original state of fresh vegetables and raw meat. 

“Damn, boy! Now what are we going to eat? Don’t be so hasty,” Barnabus
said and waved his massive hands over the meat, watching it as it 
turned brown and the fat started to run off and onto the counter. “We 
will have to eat the vegetables as is. Now go and do my bidding. 
Prepare for a long journey.” 

Jax bowed his head and went to the back rooms of the cottage to get
together all that they would need. He had no idea where they were 
going, and he didn’t want to ask, so he packed for warm and cold 
climates. He gathered together two books, one that Barnabus was 
writing, and one that Jax himself was studying. He brought it all 
together on the bed and bundled up the corners of the blanket and tied 
them in a knot at the center, then stuck a broom handle in the middle 
of the unwieldy package. Smiling to himself, Jax waved his hands and 
spoke the appropriate words and the package started to shrink. With 
each wave of his hands, the package shrank more. Jax stopped when the 
package was about ½ foot in diameter and the broom stick was now no 
bigger than a small branch from a willow. He heaved it over his 
shoulder and went back into the main room of the cottage to tell 
Barnabus they could leave. 


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