Free Diary of a Conjurer by D. L. Gardner Page B

stayed to himself. Sometimes the dragon-serpent
would appear overhead, flying from the mountain eastward, leaving
flames and destruction in its path. Sometimes those flames would
come from the village. Though he was remorseful of the natives'
plight, after the death of Meneka, Kaempie no long felt capable of
saving anyone. Without his gifts, he couldn’t heal a single wound,
nor trust himself to make a wise decision. He simply did not
interfere.
    As the years passed, Kaempie slowly made
friends with a certain group of hunters that ventured into his
woods. It was through them that Kaempie learned about their
village, that the natives remembered Meneka and had taken Meneka's
name as their own, calling themselves Meneks. Kaempie would hunt
with the men and with his keen eye and steady bow, sent them home
with enough meat to feed the entire village.
    One night after a horrendous dragon attack,
Kaempie was surprised to see his friends wandering aimlessly in the
forest.
    “Didn't you come to hunt? Where are your
weapons? Your bows and arrows?”
    “We’ve been banished,” a strong young man
stepped forward.
    “Banished?”
    “We've been cast out of our village to
survive on our own in the wilderness. The elders believe that our
hunting has caused the dragon’s wrath. They say we compromised its
sovereignty. I, my young child Vilfred, and these other men and
women have been exiled.”
    So remorseful was Kaempie to hear this news
that he took the people to his hiding place and together they built
a village of their own. The people loved Kaempie and took his name
as theirs, calling themselves Kaemperns.
    Kaempie lived with his people until he grew
very old. One day, a great wind picked up, shaking the trees,
stirring dirt and leaves into the heavens. Then Kaempie heard
something familiar—the same voice he heard so many years ago. It
whispered a song on the wind, and when it was over, it spoke his
name. Kaempie lay down his bow by the campfire, nodded a fond
farewell to his friends, and walked into the woods. He was never
seen again.
     
     

    The Tale of the Four
Wizards
    Reuben
    Depart
     
    Drenched, Reuben stumbled as the waves
rushed past, momentarily knocking him off balance again, leaving
salty foam racing between his toes. Working the sand out of his
teeth with his tongue, he spat the remaining saltwater that had
been caught in his throat and brushed his wet hair from his
eyes.
    No sign of the skiff, or of Kaempie and
Meneka remained, only the rising waves as they receded into the
clouds and the dark of night. Chilled by the sea breeze, Reuben
fought the tide as he trudged to shore. There he spotted the
fluorescent green light of Silvio’s eyes. The two stood side by
side solemnly watching the waves pound its death march on the
beach.
    They’re gone.
    A cold, empty feeling filled
Reuben. His body trembled. “I’m going back home,” he whispered.
    “You’ll die,” Silvio assured
him.
    “ I’m going to die
anyway.” We’re fools thinking we
could escape. There’s nothing to gain from this. “Even so, I never should have left.” He didn't regret having
obeyed his mother. He respected her concern for his life. Still, he
harbored a secret that, had he been honest, would have changed even
her decision, a secret that weighed heavy on his heart. Now, with
his good friend Kaempie gone, there was no sense in
continuing.
    East of the cloud front, the
seaport Taikus glowed in the night. The
island was not asleep. Lights of Hacatine's ships floated in the
dark.
    “If indeed that’s the queen coming
this way, I’ll be able to escape back to Taikus unnoticed.”
    “How, without a boat?”
    Reuben looked at Silvio. The boy
reeked of magic. Light pulsated through his pores so blazingly that
his whole body glowed green. But Silvio seemed naïve to its
presence, or at least its importance. “I’ll move east through the
woods until I come to the channel of Alisubbo. From there, I’ll
swim.”
    “And leave me