Chapter 21: Thalantyr

A wizard's work is never truly done.

After all, the Art provides one with infinite possibilities. Always a new spell to learn, or some combination of magical energy and time to possibly create something entirely new.

It is this spirit of enterprise, this scholarship, in my mind, that drives the burgeoning wizard forward, even in the face of failure.

Now, if we are to discuss failure, there are many names that come to mind. So many apprentices that fail to grasp this very basic concept. How can one come to a mage such as I and expect no less than rigor, no more than to give their very best, perhaps even their lives, in pursuit of greater knowledge?

It's been some time since I sent off Melicamp to test my latest attempt at a more efficient Polymorph spell. Efficiency is a quality oft underappreciated when it comes to spells.

Consider Bigby's various Hand spells. One might not see the need to create Crushing Hand and Interposing Hand, but the two spells do serve different purposes, require different amounts of time and energy to prepare and cast successfully.

Therefore, could Thalantyr's Transformation perhaps be any greater or lesser than Tenser's? Polymorph Self?

To discuss the minutiae of such would surely bore most, so I will simply say this: Melicamp should have returned by now...

As if on cue, I hear a faint...scratching, at the door. Not a knocking, as one might expect. Almost as if it were a sharp object, and not bent knuckles.

My scroll awaits in front of me, the rune I was drawing upon it left half-finished. With a heavy sigh, I supposed it could not hurt to see who or what required entrance at such an ungodly hour.

I extend my arm, pulling my left hand upward and tight, into a fist, speaking the command word. My dutiful flesh golems lurking, I draw a deep breath, watching the door open slowly, widely.

The first thing that scurries through is...gods help me, a common chicken.

I draw Magic Missile from my mind, preparing to squash what one might call an ordinary pest, but a voice breaks my concentration.

"Uh, anyone home?"

"Subtle, Neera."

"S-s-so brazen! We are entering the home of a p-powerful man, we must..."

"Be cautious, of course! Oh, what wonderful deaths we could die if we-"

"Oh, ye'll get a wonderful death, alright, if ye don't shut it!"

Quite a few voices, to be precise. Stowing Magic Missile and considering Dragon's Breath instead, I walk the dozen or so paces from my study, out the door, and see a group of...well, I hope adventurers and not thieves, because they were certainly not subtle, as I heard one voice proclaim.

I sigh, and call out to them. "Greetings, one and all. 'Tis I, Thalantyr, greatest wizard on the Sword Coast, and so on and so forth." I bow half-heartedly, continuing. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

Quite a collection. A half-orc, several humans, elves, and half-elves. Some with latent magical ability, and some with power that I would find difficult to describe, categorically. This half-orc, in particular...

"We seek your apprentice, Melicamp. Your spell..." The young man in question begins to speak, and the pieces fit together in my mind.

"My spell must have gone awry, somehow." I stroke my chin, wondering if that chicken I saw all too briefly...back to the drawing board on Thalantyr's Transformation, I suppose.

"Melicamp should have arrived here before us." An elf in green and brown leathers, with a furrowed brow, scans the entryway.

I sigh again, and listen carefully. He should be making some kind of noise, clacking and clucking, as the birds are wont to do.

It is an easy thing to track, considering it is moving towards us now. I shove out an open palm. Bigby's Grasping Hand appears, in all its translucent glory. I slowly extend my arm, and the hand floats down the hall, gently bobbing as it goes. Waiting for the precise moment, I slowly close my hand.

It is a strange thing, to control such a power. A construct of pure magical energy, yet also of your own mind and body. Easy enough, for a spellcaster of my power, but I have heard tales of those without such will, whose constructs turned, believing them unworthy. I am many things, but unworthy...no, Thalantyr is worthy of all of his accomplishments, all of his knowledge.

I pull my fist back with vigor, and the hand comes rushing with it, flustered clucking its accompanying chorus.

The hand drops him, and he...it, I suppose, proceeds to run around in a dizzying circle.

"This is my apprentice?" The frustration finally sets in. How could he bungle such an easy task? All he had to do was cast the spell precisely as I had prepared it.

"It w-was, before the spell, one would a-assume."

"Master Thalantyr!" The chicken, finally content to stop its cardiovascular exercise, speaks. "I can't believe I made it back!"

"It would've been a lot easier, had you allowed us to help you." The half-orc eyes the chicken with no shortage of suspicion. "Why did you run?"

It shakes its head with gusto. "My mind is-" It stops, darting its head this way and that, attempting to peck at the floor.

"It appears my spell, or at least, the spell he cast, worked quite well." I attempt to answer for it. "So well, in fact, that Melicamp's mind is slowly succumbing to animal instinct. In other words..."

The blonde young woman's eyes go wide, raising a finger. "He's becoming more and more like an ACTUAL chicken!"

"Magic's wonders never cease to amaze me." A young, bald man in robes shakes his head, hands on his hips.

"You think if we leave him like that long enough, he'll just...stop being Melicamp, and start being, um, y'know," the other young woman, with hair like a feminine fire, ponders her query for a moment, then finishes, "a bird forever?"

"Unfortunately, Imoen, magic always has a countermeasure. A good wizard is prepared for the worst!" The tall, thin mage in the green robes is correct, thankfully. He hides his mental instability well, but much like my apprentice, his mind is not quite his own.

"Since it was my spell, I should be able to dispel it. I will need to conduct a ritual." I consider what ingredients are of pressing need. A magic circle, to place Melicamp in. Some sort of warding wall around it, to prevent any more attempts to flee...

"Would you like us to gather anything for you outside the tower?" An older half-elf woman speaks for the first time since the group's arrival. Something about this place troubles her. Of course, Jaheira and I have had previous dealings, as Harper business brings her and Khalid up and down the Sword Coast. Yet, she acts as if she does not know me. Interesting.

"Only one component is out of my reach at the moment. A human skull."

The unhinged wizard fishes through his robes, revealing...precisely that.

To be exact, he pulls out two, one in each hand.

"Male...or female?" he grins, baring his teeth.

"Why do ye..." the halfling attempts to speak, but thinks better of it, shrugging.

"Male." As he tosses me the skull, I think carefully about what is about to occur. If Melicamp failed at testing one of my first new creations, a spell which, frankly, I did not think took that much power to cast, was it even worth it to return him to his human form?

"I'll need some space here. Please," I command, extending a hand outward, "vacate the premises until the door opens again. Otherwise, I fear that there may be...complications."

As they leave and the doors swing closed behind them, I am left to examine my apprentice. Or, the chicken that used to be my apprentice.

He was not here for long. I had him run errands, acquiring this and that, shopping for necessary ingredients and such in town. He was an earnest sort, which I could stand, but for one so eager to please, he did not display much potential.

I suppose, rather than considering this a display of his incompetence, I can call it a failed trial of my spell. There will come a time when I have mastery over many such spells, and I will no longer have to sit in this tower in the middle of the woods, wondering when my time will arrive, when I will become the man I was destined to.

So, a small bump in the trail, we shall call this moment.

Yet another day in the life of...well, of a wizard who it seems has some work yet to do.