Haven's Addiction

When I saw Drognaus appear before me from the darkness of the training room, seemingly out of nowhere, I was so startled that I almost pulled the trigger.

“Good evening,” he called out, as calm as ever. “Restless night for you as well?”

“Um, yeah,” I stammered, turning the light away from his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get some target practice in while everyone else was sleeping. You know, keep a low profile.”

“Understandable. It’s a lot to take in. This castle takes a while to get used to. There are so many enchantments and wards protecting this place that all the energies flowing through it can be a bit disorienting, especially for those who are in touch with it.”

So the pulsating of energy I felt earlier hadn’t been my imagination after all. “What brings you down here?” I asked

“Same as you. Restless. I rarely sleep. And practicing my craft in privacy.”

“Your craft? You mean, like spells and stuff?” He silently nodded. “Do you mind if I watch?” I must say, I was highly intrigued. I had been in this world for about a week now and hadn’t seen a single magic spell cast. I wasn’t skeptical that it would be possible, especially after seeing some of the things my magical items could do, but was excited to see an actual spell. Learning how to do the magic for myself would likely be just the knowledge I would need in order to get back home.

“My apologies. I was just wrapping up. Perhaps another day. I would like to see what you can do with these weapons of yours.” He nodded to the shotgun still in my hands.

“It’s pretty simple really, not like...” I trailed off for a moment realizing that I didn’t even know what any magical spells he could do would amount to. “Just point this end at things you want to kill and squeeze.”

“Perhaps a demonstration?”

“Um, sure. I’m not really familiar with these, but will see what I can do, I just need some targets to fire at.”

Drognaus silently nodded and turned his head to one side. Set into the ground were several straw and wooden targets. Some of them were round with targets painted on them, others were in various humanoid shapes with targets painted on vital areas. They were spaced out in various intervals. It was now brighter in the arena so that I could see the targets clearly as if he turned up the lights, but I should have at least been able to see the shadow of the silhouette before now. It was as if the targets had instantly popped up out of the ground.

I took out each weapon in my arsenal one at a time, trying to decide which one to start with. It looked like I was showboating my impressive array of weaponry. In all actuality I stalled because I didn’t know what I was doing. Aside from one time shooting at cans on the farm and various video games, I was as new to this as Drognaus. I did my best to make it look like I knew what I was doing.

I started with the pistols since they were the only type I had ever actually fired. I forgot how loud these things were. The arena had been virtually silent until that moment when the concussive noise broke through it that left a twinge of ringing in my ears. Oddly enough there wasn’t any echo of the report throughout the arena, which left me wondering how far out the walls of the arena actually extended.

The first shot actually hit the target. Not quite near the center, but it least it hit. I practiced with the rest of the clip. All but two bullets hit the target, a few of them very close to the center. Considering the range of the targets and the lack of experience, it was quite impressive. I always have been a naturally good shot whether it was playing paintball, Nerf guns at work, or archery in school. I just never did any actual hunting, so that talent never cultivated. Apparently it never went away, it just lay dormant.

Next I took out the assault rifle and tore into the targets. This was a lot tougher. I carried a lot more kickback, much louder, and tended to aim high. I compensated by aiming a bit lower and managed to rip into the targets. One of the human shaped targets was in pretty bad shape and barely managing to stay upright by the time I finished the clip. I got in closer and tried the shotgun. I didn’t hold it right on the first shot and the kickback almost took my shoulder off. It was surprisingly more accurate than I thought it would be. I figured it would just spray out everywhere, but most all of the beads of buckshot went in a general direction. At close range, one of the targets became completely shredded and collapsed into a pile of straw.

I backed away from the targets significantly to try the long range rifle, and the lighting seemed to adjust automatically to my needs. It was really strange. No matter how much I backed away from the targets to test the range, the lighting in the arena maintained constant even though I couldn’t identify a light source. Hitting the target was a cinch no matter how far away I got. I may not have hit the bulls eye, but at least I kept hitting the target. Not bad for a newb. Although, I stood on level ground in bizarrely perfect lighting, no breeze, no obstacles, and a stationary target. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as it looked, if you think about it.

Then I tinkered around with the slingshot with spot on accuracy, and tore apart one of the humanoid targets limb from limb with the sword. The whole time I went through all of this Drognaus stood in one spot completely motionless with his hands clasped behind his back. His expression remained stoic. He wasn’t flabbergasted, but wasn’t awe inspired either.

“Interesting,” he mused. “A few questions if I may.”

“Shoot,” I chuckled at my own pun.

“How do they work exactly?”

I took out one of the spent shell casings and held it up in one hand with an intact bullet in the other. “The casing here holds in a metal bullet, like you can see here,” I referred to the bullet. “In the back is a small explosive charge that pushes the piece of metal out at a very high speed. The explosion is contained with only one exit, the barrel of the gun”

“Hmm, explosive. Hence the noise, and the smell.”

I didn’t noticed it until then, but the air was filled with a thick acrid odor of burnt gunpowder like the aftereffects of a fireworks show.

“Very powerful, but if you want to learn how to save your world with weapons like these, you will need to put emphasis on learning the drawbacks. Fire on me.”

“Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure I heard him right. Maybe the noise from the gunshots damaged my hearing. or there was some sort of misinterpretation with the translator.

“Aim your weapon at me, and make it go boom,” he said slowly and sarcastically.

“Are you sure?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was my translator on the fritz? Was he actually telling me to shoot him? And did he just make a joke?

“I have already seen the flaws to your weapons, and know how to block against them. So please, let’s see what You can learn from them.”

He remained very adamant and serious, an unwavering rock in my path. I tried to think of a smart quip to put in like ‘Ok buddy, it’s your funeral’, or ‘do you feel lucky punk?’, but surprisingly none of them seemed appropriate. I was genuinely scared that I would to hurt the guy. He was my only real contact in this place for learning how to get home, not to mention the veritable king of this castle whom everyone looked up to and revered. If I injured or killed him it would most definitely mean a death sentence for me.

Reluctantly I got one of the pistols out, aimed it at him with a shaky hand, and prepared to fire. Before I got the chance to decide whether to actually fire on him or not, the gun jerked out of my hand by an unseen force and Drognaus caught it in one deft move with his outstretched hand, pointing it at me.

“Dude,” I marveled. “you totally just Vadered me there.”

“Are you ready to try again?” he said as he handed the pistol back to me.

“Sure thing. But if I get a couple shots off and you deflect it with your outstretched hand and then do that again, you Have to invite me to dinner.”

All kidding aside, I finally began to see his logic. He was the lord of the manor in a magical realm for a reason. He wouldn’t have requested I shoot at him unless he knew for certain that he had spells and such to protect him. It finally dawned on me, he was training me.

“Very good,” he said, seeing the recognition in my eyes. “See, you can be taught.” I half expected him to call me grasshopper.

I drew the pistol in the exact same manner and once again it flew from my hands into his, pointed directly at me. “Or perhaps not.” He sounded disappointed.

“Are you sure about that?” I asked. In my left hand was another pistol that I had pulled from the bracelet the moment the other weapon left my right hand. When I retrieved the pistol from him I pointed it in the air and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened because the safety was on. I think he actually smirked a little.

“Again,” was all he said in response.

I put away one of the pistols and readied the weapon, this time with both hands. My hand didn’t shake nearly as much this time. I half expected to feel it lurch out of my hands again, but Drognaus was too good for that. Instead the weapon got searing hot in my hands and I dropped it to the ground to keep from getting burned.

“You see, weapons of metal are always vulnerable to heat in various ways, and your weapon is more so than most. Not only could I make it burn in your hands, but with enough heat, or in the right place, it would cause the substance that explodes inside to burst in your hand, destroying the weapon, and possibly you in the process.”

“There are more fire based spells and creatures that employ fire as weapons than I can count. This is why paper currency was never popularized in Haven. Any of these methods could turn your weapon against you. This is the hazard of powerful weapons. The more powerful it is, the more likely it can be turned against you. Again.”

He wasted no time getting back into the action. He had a point. Even something as simple as the telekinesis I learned could cram something in my barrel without knowing it, resulting in a backfire when shot. Or it could be used to pull the trigger when I’m not ready, resulting in shooting myself or an innocent bystander. Any of the fire or heat based spells he talked about would render the weapon not only useless, but incredibly dangerous to me.

“This time I will not impede your use of the weapon. Instead I will block you from hitting me.”

Now it came time to play hardball, and with just a moment to mull it over I was ready to take him on. Realistically I didn’t stand a chance. He had a deck full of aces up his sleeve, but by forcing him to show me each of those cards, I would learn that much more in how to get past my enemies. This was certainly a game of ‘knowledge is power’, and Drognaus gave me a crash course.

I fired the pistol at him, aiming squarely for the chest. There was a shimmer of light that surrounded him where the bullet hit inches from his body before being diverted.

“That is a magical shield,” he said. “The barrier is only designed to protect from certain elements, but when you know what weapon your opponent is going to employ, you are able to design the barrier to be completely effective.” He didn’t skip a beat before saying, “Again.”

I shot two times on this attempt. As soon as the bullets impacted with him, he disappeared completely. All of a sudden I heard his voice behind me. Startled I turned to see him standing there just as he had been moments before in the other direction. Standing tall with his back straight and hands clasped behind his back, his expression still stoic.

“Illusions are a very popular tactic for distracting an opponent. Usually they cater to one specific sense. They are not material, so weaker illusions break down when they come in contact with physical matter. Stronger illusions will remain intact, but are still noticeably flawed if you know what to sense for. All illusions, no matter how well crafted, are flawed in some way. The skill to detecting the truth from the illusion is in finding that flaw. Again.”

I realized that, while he clearly used a variety of magic spells to defend himself, I didn’t actually see him casting any magic. He didn’t use a wand, wave his hands around dramatically, or spout any archaic phrases. The magic merely happened, as if he willed it to exist in an instant. Based on conversations with people around the castle, this wasn’t how magic normally worked. Drognaus was clearly on a Superman level of power, and I couldn’t help but wonder how I came in contact with such a powerful magical mentor upon first arriving in Haven. It seemed that location of my arrival in Haven wasn’t completely random.

As I drew the weapon up, Drognaus split apart into several versions of himself. Before I knew it there were 7 identical Drognaus’s standing in a row before me. I smirked a little, then deftly used the bracelets to switch from the pistol to a pair of semiautomatics, like I practiced so many times in my room, and let loose with both of them in an arc. It wasn’t at all like the movies. The force of the weapons jerked them every which way as I tried to maintain control. It wasn’t pretty, but they were effective enough. All but one of the illusions vanished as before with the real Drognaus swathed in a faint blue glow of his shield that deflected two of the bullets.

“Very good,” he called out. “Improvisation is an important skill in dealing with unpredictable situations.”

We continued sparring like this for a while. Well, it wasn’t so much sparring as me trying to attack him in a variety of different ways. Each time I adapted to his tactics he would throw out some sort of defensive spell to block it. It was getting really irritating, but also valuable information. All the possibilities that were available through magic were truly astounding. I could tell that he wasn’t your typical magician. He was obviously the cream of the crop, and there were probably relatively few in this world with more knowledge or experience in magic than him. It continued to fuel my theory that someone sent me to him intentionally. I could see now why he was in charge of immigration in a world of powerful magical creatures. If any new arrival did pose a serious threat, he was just the guy to deal with it.

“What about time travel?” I inquired out of nowhere. The possibility of it had been bugging me since meeting with the Mystic, and I felt the sudden desire to pick Drognaus’s brain about it. With his display of obvious magical aptitude he seemed like the best candidate to put my theories to rest.

“What about it?” Came his simple response, almost as if he expected the question.

“Is it possible to use magic to travel through time?”

“In a way, yes.”

“In what way?”

Without any warning whatsoever he took two steps closer and slapped me across the face hard enough that my head jerked to one side. When I looked back at him I could feel the stinging impression of his hand across my cheek. Drognaus stood there just as before, as if nothing happened.

“What the hell was that for?!” I screamed, rubbing my tender cheek.

“A lesson. Possibly the most important one you will learn in your entire time here.”

We stared each other down for a few moments with me glaring in anger and frustration, the rest of my face turning as red as my cheek. He remained calm and cool, waiting patiently for my response.

“All right,” I sighed in resignation after my blood cooled, “What is the lesson?”

“Magic can do many things. I can take away the numbness your cheek, alter your emotions so you are no longer upset, and even wipe your memory of the entire incident, but that will not change the fact that it happened.”

“Ok, and what does that have to do with time?”

“Time is like an impermeable river of energy that surrounds all existence. Like all rivers it only flows in one direction. You can dam it, divert it, pollute it, or drain it, but it will not change the direction in which it flows.”

“But is it possible to travel upriver?”

His response was to slap me on the other cheek. He went so quick that I didn’t even see his hand move, even though I looked directly at him.

“Ow, what the hell?!” I screamed.

“Even if it was possible to travel back up the stream, it would have no meaningful effect. If I were to travel back in time and stop myself from slapping you, it still would not change the fact that I had slapped you in the first place. Once an action is taken it is done, and will linger there for all eternity.”

“Then what are your options when traveling through time?”

“You can travel through real time just like we are now. There is magic available in which you could physically jump ahead further much faster, but you would not be able to physically travel back upstream. What you passed has been passed, just like it would have in real time.”

“So if you traveled forward, you would be stuck downstream,” I frowned. “What did you mean by physically? Is there another way?”

“It is also possible to mentally or astrally travel down the time stream. You would see everything that happens downstream, but would remain where you are in real time.”

“That would be like precognition, seeing into the future?”

“Exactly.”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous? With that knowledge of the future you would be able to essentially do whatever you want, knowing the outcome; wouldn’t you?”

“You would if events did not change. However, once you take action based on the knowledge you gain, it would change the flow of events from what you originally saw. Once you arrived downstream in real time, the scenery will likely be different than what you saw with your futuresight.”

“What if you took no action?”

“Then it is likely that the events will be exactly the same. However, that is no guarantee either. Anyone else who used futuresight could effect the outcome as well.”

“Hmm, so the more people there are who look into the future, the less reliable their visions will be.” I pondered this for a moment. “What if they don’t do anything about what they see?”

“The future will still change. On a subconscious level you will make changes to what you would normally do based on this imagery.” He started to move his hand to slap me again, and I flinched, holding up my arm to block it. “See?”

The concept seemed pretty deep, but reminded me of what the Mystic said. I chose my words carefully before speaking again.

“If you mentally traveled into the future, how accurate would your recollection of what you saw there be?”

He grinned slightly, “depending on the level of magic and skill, it could be anywhere from a hazy dream to crystal clear as if you were really there.”

“How clearly would you be able to retain what you saw?”

“The same as you saw it. If the image was hazy, then your recollection would be hazy. If the image was clear, it would seem clear.”

I pondered this for a while with my internal gears turning, putting pieces together. Drognaus waited patiently.

“Let’s say, for example,” I mused “that I were to travel mentally into the future. While viewing the future I just studied general things, like how to cast spells, make potions, enchant magical items, and combat tactics, things like that. What would happen when the vision ended?”

His hand came up to my face lightning quick once again, but instead of slapping, he gently patted my cheek affectionately.

“Very good, my student. Now you are learning. Visions like this happen in mere moments of real time. It wouldn’t matter if you were seeing for an hour or a year.”

“So by using this, you could essentially gain instantaneous knowledge about anything.”

“Performing an accurate precog vision is no easy task,” Drognaus grinned wide, “but it is also how the most powerful mages in the realms have gained so much knowledge in their limited lifespans.”

I could have sworn he winked at me as he said that. Then it fully hit me. That’s why I was here. I had been transported to this world mentally with a physical clone of myself created so that I could learn what I needed to defeat the Graxis. Once learned, I would wake up at home as if I had never left, miraculously bestowed with all the knowledge I would possibly need. Without the clone I would only be able to observe, like a ghost. As ludicrous as that sounds when I say it out loud, it made complete sense when combined with everything I experienced thus far.

With this revelation I felt the burning desire to learn as much as I could about this world. Not only that, but I wanted to learn as much as I could about everything, including myself. I saw this as the ultimate golden opportunity. I could essentially learn anything I wanted. I could learn every fighting style, magic spell, and psionic ability in existence, how to make every weapon conceivable, and all sorts of other things I couldn’t even dream of.

“Finally, you understand,” Drognaus said, breaking me out of my mental storm of ideas.

“Excuse me?” I startled, not full registering what he said at first. “Wait a minute. How long have you known?”

“I have always known, I’ve just been waiting for you to truly understand it for yourself.”

“Who else knows?” I inquired.

“None but you and I now. I’m sure the Mystic wiped their memory.”

“How is it that you know?” Both of us knew what the conversation was about, but neither would dared say it out loud.

“I didn’t know exactly. I am one of the few in all the realms that can perform the necessary magic that got you here, and recognized it for what it was.” Then his tone and expression turned serious and threatening, “and see to it that no one else finds out. Tell no one. Time magic is taboo to tamper with for a reason.”

The sudden threat startled me, and I jumped back a step. There seemed to be magic behind those words to back up the threat, making the fear of it shiver throughout my entire body. There was obviously something here that I didn’t understand. With this new revelation I had no worries that I wouldn’t find out. Whatever the reason it seemed to be important, which was good enough for me. I merely nodded in acceptance.

“So back to our original lesson,” he spoke in his ‘teacher’ voice again. “You were demonstrating for me the capabilities of your weapons.”

I shook off any further questions for now. He had a point. It seemed that I would have all the time in the world to find out. For now I needed to learn about how to fight, and fight well.

“Yes, let’s.”

“Very good,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Before the diversion I was educating you about the flaws of your weapons. The key to successfully using any weapon is not to learn it’s strengths, but in learning the flaws. Knowing the strengths may gain you victory, but not knowing the flaws will definitely get you killed. Look at your weapons. What faults do you see in them?”

“The obvious is limited usage. Once I run out of ammo it’s relatively useless, except as a club.”

“Good, what else?”

“Well, like you pointed out, the explosive charge can be highly unstable.” I had to think for a moment, and struggled to find anything else. “Aiming, I guess. A powerful gun won’t do a lick of good if I don’t hit the target. Plus it’s possible that it can be taken away and used against me. There’s also a chance of misfire or jam. Um…” I tried to think of anything else, but came up blank.

“Let me help you with one. The noise that your weapons make is a great disadvantage. Do you know how?”

“Well, it would be impossible to be discreet, except with silencers.”

“Yes. In an open area the sound of your weapon would carry for miles. If you were in the wild, you would attract all sorts of unpleasant beasts directly to you. What else?”

I thought for a moment and remembered the ringing in my ears when I first fired them, some of which still lingered, and that was in a wide open arena. In a small enclosed space, the damage to my ears would be worse, possibly permanent. “It would limit my ability to hear danger coming at me.”

“Very good. With that level of noise you would be highly vulnerable to sneak attack. What else?”

“I’ve got nothing,” I said after several moments of racking my brain.

“The smell,” he said. “While your nose may not be strong enough, the odor that you discharge can draw creatures from miles away. The smell will also make it easy for predators to easily track you. There is also immunity. Along with magical and psionic enhancements, there are all manner of fell creatures that are immune or resistant to the metals of your weapons.”

I pondered it for a moment and saw that he had a valid point. “Is there anything else you noticed?”

“Yes,” he grinned “It’s nice to see a student who is humble enough to ask for help. You will go far in this realm with that. The more powerful a weapon is, the more confidence you will have in your superiority. Your weapons are indeed very powerful. If you rely on them so heavily that you become arrogant, you will become vulnerable to any of the weapons weaknesses.” While I pondered this, nodding my head in agreement, he continued “are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“Anything,” was all he said.

“Sure, I guess,” I said nervously, my stomach fluttering.

Without any warning an attack came from the outer edges of the darkened arena. The whole time I had been in the arena Drognaus hadn’t attacked me once, aside from slapping me in the face. All he did was defend himself from my assaults. Now it was payback time, and what he sent after me didn’t pull any punches.