Free The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) by Honor Raconteur

had never changed her opinion that it was
troublesome. With a resigned sigh, she started from the beginning.
    “I explained to you earlier that an artifact buried in the
fountain was the cause of all of this.” Both men nodded impatiently. “I also
explained that the power level of it is such that I alone can’t break it, which
is why I called a colleague in, yes? Good, we’re on the same page. Today, I
wanted to get more information on the origin of the artifact and come up with a
few plans of attack on how to defeat it. This is what I discovered.
    “First, the age of the artifact and the stone around it
dates it at the eighth century, about the time that Windamere was re-taken by Gadon
Dragonmanovich and made into the country we know today. This is very, very
interesting.”
    “How?” Krause asked, absolutely riveted.
    Just how much magical history did they teach in schools?
Probably not enough for him to follow her explanation. Assuming, of course,
that he remembered something he learned forty years ago, which might be
stretching the bounds of credulity.
    “There was a time when magic had very few limits, a time
when magicians made their own spells and the class of Artifactors didn’t exist.
We magicians refer to this as ‘the time of great magic’ because that’s exactly
what it is. We have legends, stories, partial histories and such that tell of
amazing feats that the magicians of history were able to do. But they were also
done in a time of great political upheaval. I’m sure you learned in school
about the multitude of nations that began, were conquered, fell to plague or
pestilence, or merged with other countries through marriage. Well, all of that
shifting about destroyed records or caused them to be lost. And then, at the
very end of the eighth century, that great plague swept through all of Mander
and wiped out half of the population. I’m afraid the magicians were hit the
hardest by it.”
    “Wait, explain that,” Decker requested, just as fascinated
as Krause. “I’ve never heard that the magicians were hit so hard by the
plague.”
    “Of course they were,” she said in exasperation. “Think,
man. If you suddenly contracted a deadly disease, what would you do?”
    “Go see a doctor.”
    “And when he can’t help you?”
    “See a magician,” he said in sudden understanding.
    “They were infected more than anyone else because every
single person in their area with the plague came into contact with them. Most
magicians didn’t have a cure for it either, and so died of it as well.” Except
the magicians that lived in remote enough regions to not contract the plague or
were selfish enough to hide away and let humanity rot. “Many, many techniques
and secrets that were passed down from master to student were lost entirely
because of this. Worse, some numbskull hit upon the brilliant idea that
torching things would keep the sickness from spreading, so whole libraries and
record rooms went up in flames.”
    “Ah,” Krause raised a finger hesitantly in the air. “That’s
not true?”
    “Well, it is,” she felt forced to admit, “But hot water and
strong soap does the job just as well, you know? And if it doesn’t come into
direct contact with the person, then it’s highly likely it’s not carrying the
disease.”
    Krause and Decker exchanged a speaking look, their
expressions saying oops . Which poor blighter’s house had they torched in
order to keep a disease from spreading? Rolling her eyes, Sevana moved on. “At
any rate, we the magical community lost more in sheer knowledge than I can
begin to describe. The whole system of magic that our ancestors used became
lost almost overnight. The survivors and newly awakened magicians had to
experiment and forge their own system of using magic as the old ways no longer
made any sense to them.”
    “So the magic that you use now,” Decker summed up quietly,
“is entirely different.”
    “As day is from night,” she confirmed