Spellbound

Chapter 2: First Lessons

Sadira scowled down at the open book in her lap. When she'd made her bargain with Mozenrath, she felt the experience had the potential to be many things. Exciting, dangerous, disastrous, beneficial, life-altering … the list went on. One thing she certainly hadn't anticipated was that it would be boring. Dull. Tedious even. At least to start.

Normally, she rather enjoyed reading; her spell scrolls and books had always contained vivid descriptions and colorfully worded incantations which she had found easy to memorize. The problem was, this wasn't a spell book; it was a grammar book. A Latin grammar book, to be precise. According to Mozenrath, Latin was one of the major base languages for spells, and every decent sorcerer had at least a working knowledge of it, even if they used another tongue in the majority of their own spell work – which Sadira herself did, preferring Sanskrit.

When she'd pointed out that Mozenrath himself didn't even bother to use any language at all, much less a magic-related one, he'd reminded her, in that arrogant way of his, that he was far beyond the level of needing to use verbal incantations for every little thing, and she had a long way to go to get to his level, assuming she ever did. Privately, Sadira thought it was really the gauntlet that allowed him to cast wordless spells, but for once, she'd kept her mouth shut, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

She'd been working on Latin for weeks, and she still felt like she could barely recognize a handful of the words. Studying was all very well and good, but Sadira had always learned best by doing. Now, if only Mozenrath would recognize that … but so far, the only instruction he'd given her was that she needed to be careful. Careful. Yeah, right. As if she needed to worry about getting herself into trouble while she conjugated verbs.

Okay, so many she had a tendency not to think things through sometimes. Mozenrath had cited the example from when they'd done battle, and she'd tapped into the magical feedback to get him to release her, only to send herself plummeting to a near-death. The fact that she was able to prevent said death, he'd argued, didn't negate that she needed to learn not to be so reckless and impulsive. And she supposed that was a fair point.

But still, proceeding with caution was one thing. Going nowhere was another. And these Latin grammars were starting to feel like nothing more than a waste of time. She shut the book with an exasperated sigh.

As if that were a cue, Mozenrath suddenly appeared, stepping through one of the portals he always seemed to create with such obvious ease. Sadira had to admit to herself that it impressed her, even now. Still, she didn't let that show on her face, greeting him with a discontented frown. At least, she noted, he'd left his creepy little eel at home this time. She got the feeling that the thing – Xerxes, he called it – didn't like her that much. If so, the feeling was mutual.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" She asked. He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have, and if you managed to conjure up a door to the place, I might consider it."

"I could manage that, if you were actually teaching me, instead of just handing me a bunch of grammar books!"

"Ooh, are you having trouble with the big, scary words, little witch? Just take your time and sound them out –"

The mocking tone is his voice was too much for her, so Sadira threw the book at him – literally. Caught unawares, he didn't use his magic to repel it, and it hit him square in the face. He staggered back slightly, and Sadira was reminded of how physically weak his body was, despite the powerful magic he wielded, because the gauntlet was literally draining his life away. She couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for her impulsive action.

"I'm –" Her apology was cut off as he directed a blast of magic in her direction. There was a rage in his eyes that terrified her, and despite their contract, for an instant she believed he was really going to hurt her, maybe even kill her. In a panic, her mind seized upon the only Latin spell she'd really read so far.

"Fulminus venite!"* Sadira watched in wonder as a bolt of lighting – an actual bolt of lightning – met the magic of the gauntlet and pushed it back. Then their magics mixed, coalescing on the sealing and finally dissipating, though the air remained charged with a thrilling energy. She looked back at Mozenrath, to find no trace of anger on his face. In fact, he looked almost … proud.

"Not bad," he said softly. "Not bad at all."

"That was a test," Sadira realized.

"Yes, and you passed."

"You … you didn't have to scare my like that, you know." She was trying hard to be angry at him, but she was too exhilarated by her accomplishment to get upset.

"Actually, I did. I needed you to be in fear, even for your life. It's easy to wield magic in a controlled environment, Sadira; in fact, almost anyone can do that, with a little practice. It's much harder to channel magical energy when strong emotions take hold. And I have to say, you managed beautifully." He smiled at her, not his usual sneer, but a genuine, honest-to-goodness smile, and Sadira grinned back.

"Mozenrath, did you actually just pay me a compliment?"

"Don't let it go to your pretty little head. You have a …"

"Long way to go, yes, I know that," She finished for him. "You've only mentioned that about a zillion times before."

"Well then," he said. "Considering your success, I suppose we could try a little more hands-on magic today. Though I do still expect you to keep up with the Latin," he added. He picked up the book that had landed at his feet, walked over, and handing it back to her.

"Really?" Sadira was looking up at him eagerly, all wide-eyed in hopeful delight. Mozenrath had to admit that her almost child-like enthusiasm for magic was rather … endearing, in its way.

Not that he'd tell her that, of course.

"Really."

She leaned closer to him. "Then show me more spells."

And he did, from that time on, Sadira did her best not to complain about studying Latin. They settled into a routine; he would drop off the books, they would exchange barbs, and, when he felt she'd been working hard enough on learning the language, he would reward her by showing her another spell and letting her practice it. Sometimes the spells were in Latin, the language she was just beginning to understand; other times they were in Sanskrit, and with those she felt surer of herself, though she had to admit, the Latin spells were more exciting to try, perhaps because they seemed so foreign. After struggling with it in the beginning, the language was coming to her much easier now.

Meanwhile, Mozenrath had to admit (at least to himself, if not to her) that he was rather surprised at her rapid progress. She had a keen mind and excellent memorization skills; her only real obstacle to being a great sorceress was her own irrepressible personality. She was excitable, impatient, and sometimes careless. She needed to exercise more caution and more self-control.

And yet, paradoxically, he found himself drawn to her fervent, impulsive nature. She was … fun.

The thought had come to him without warning, and he did his best to dismiss the notion. Acquiring power, now that was fun. Ruling the seven deserts and decimating his enemies – that would be fun. And oh yes, living would be fun. He hadn't made this bargain with the little sand witch so he could enjoy her company. He'd made it so he could survive and continue his quest for power, because power was the only thing that mattered. Things like friendship and love, the things she foolishly persisted in believing in – those were illusions, ones that always faded over time. As he knew all too well …

Recognizing the unproductive direction his thoughts were moving in, Mozenrath shifted his focus to the book that lay on his table. Like the other books he'd shared with Sadira, it was in Latin. But unlike them, it didn't contain grammar lessons. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of her reaction when he showed her exactly what this book was.

"Xerxes," he said, and the eel instantly appeared. The creature was probably the only living thing on Earth that would actually look happy to see him. Not that he cared about such things, of course.

Though sometimes, the way Sadira's eyes would light up when he appeared, right before she remembered to snap at him for rudely entering her home without permission, he almost thought she looked ….

Well, of course she looked happy. She was learning magic from the most powerful sorcerer of their age, after all. They were using each other, and they both knew it. It was a business arrangement.

"Master?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Mozenrath addressed his familiar. "I need you to keep an eye on things while I go out."

"Where Master go?"

Mozenrath frowned. Xerxes didn't usually ask a lot of questions, but then, he'd been behaving rather oddly lately.

"That's not any of your concern. Do as I say."

The eel scowled. "Master go to see stupid little sand witch again," he concluded irritably.

"She is not stupid!" Mozenrath snapped. "She's … useful. Or at least she's going to be soon."

Xerxes shook his head. "Master spend too much time with witch. Not enough time with …"

"What?"

"Um … other things. More important things."

"You think keeping myself alive isn't important, Xerxes?"

"No!" The eel exclaimed, chastened. "No, master must live! But witch, she not help."

"Not yet. But she will."

"Not much time," Xerxes countered.

"Time enough," Mozenrath replied. He picked up the book. "And this should speed the process up considerably."

"What is it? What's in it?" Sadira asked a short while later. He'd placed the book on her table, and she hadn't been able to take her eyes off it. She was drawn to it, just as he had been the first time he'd seen it, just as he still was today.

"What do you think?"

"Well it's …" she approached the table. Hesitantly, she ran her hands over it, and shivered slightly. Someone unacquainted with magic would have felt nothing, but he knew she was getting a sense of its powerful energy. "It's definitely not a grammar book, that's for sure."

"It's called The Grimorum Arcanorum. It's the most comprehensive and powerful spell book in existence, supposedly."

Sadira's fingers brushed the cover. "Yeah, I could believe that." Her tone was almost reverent. She looked up at him. "Can I …?"

"Go ahead."

She opened the book and began excitedly flipping through the pages. Her eyes skimmed the text for familiar words, and she was pleased to be able to make out most of them. She paused however, on a term that was unfamiliar.

"Mozenrath, what does this mean? 'Saeti?' What is that –"

"No!" He cried out, but it was too late. Sadira found out exactly what the word meant as a rain of fiery arrows suddenly appeared and plummeted down towards her. For once, her old street rat reflexes failed her, and she looked up in horrified fascination, frozen in place.

Mozenrath grabbed her, dragging her away from the table and out of their path. The arrows plunged into the ground, and their flames seemed to be smothered by the sand, leaving no trace that they had ever existed.

"What were you thinking?" He hissed, shaking her slightly. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"What do you mean what was I thinking? You're the one who gave me the damn book!"

"I gave it to you to read and study, not to start blurting out spells with no thought as to the havoc they might wreak!"

"I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't think it would … I didn't think I could do that … it was just one word …"

"You didn't realize how powerful you are, Sadira. How powerful you can be." Suddenly his voice was low, almost soothing. "You need to be more careful. I don't keep telling you that because I enjoy repeating myself. You need to listen to me, alright?"

Sadira let out a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay. Point taken. Be more careful. I go it." She turned to look at him, and it was then that they realized they were clinging to each other. They hastily drew apart.

"Thanks." She said softly.

"For what?"

"For … saving me, I guess."

Mozenrath avoided her gaze. "Yeah, well, we have a deal so …" He shrugged. "You're of no use to me if you're dead."

"Wow. That's really a touching sentiment."

He looked up at her then. "I don't do sentiment, Sadira."

"Yeah, I've noticed that. So … does that conclude the lesson for today, or …?"

He studied her, considering. She'd been understandably shaken just a moment ago, but she seemed to have quickly regained her composure. This girl was tough. He could respect that, at least.

"No," he decided. "We'll go through some of the spells in the Grimorum, together. Just … don't blurt out any more unfamiliar words, okay?"

Sadira smiled slightly. "Okay." Gingerly, they made their way back to the table, and the book.

"First page, Sadira," he instructed firmly. "None of that skipping around you like to do."

She rolled her eyes, but for once, she decided not answer him back, and they began.

*Latin, roughly translated as "Come lightning!"