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   Chapter 52 No.52

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5457

Updated: 2018-01-19 19:02


"What do you mean?" she asked.

The wizard's face twisted briefly with concentration, the crystal taking on the same glow as a candle.

"You managed this degree of concentration, " he said, the light wavering slightly as he spoke.

"I don't understand, " she said.

"I've been at this since I was nearly your age. When I was learning what I have just taught you, I had to practice it for just shy of two months to achieve this degree of consistent concentration. In all of my years, I have met but a handful of colleagues that had done so more quickly than I. The fastest was my mentor, who managed it in two weeks. You've done it upon your first day of trial, and in less than two hours!" He growled.

"What have I done wrong? Why are you yelling?" she asked.

"Done wrong? You've wasted my time and your own by allowing me to teach you things you must already know!" he said.

"I didn't know anything, I swear! The only knowledge I have of magic is what you have taught me!" she assured him.

"We shall know for sure in a moment, " he fumed, grasping his amulet.

Myranda quickly stood, knocking the chair down as she tried to back away. The wizard had a menacing look in his eye that chilled her to her spine. He spoke a string of mystic words, only a few of which were familiar. The spell was a mystery to her, save that the last few words targeted it upon her, and bound the effects to her flesh. Just as soon as the final word had left his lips, she felt the muscles in her arm clench tightly. All feeling left her fingers, and the numbness began to spread quickly up her arm. In a few moments, the arm hung loose

eached the appropriate level of concentration. When she felt that her mind was similar to the way it had been that morning, she spoke the words.

Even the simple task of pronouncing the words was difficult to do without causing her mind to lose focus. Just as before, she felt a soothing warmth in her wound that served to distract her further. As the last few words were spoken, the warmth increased greatly.

"Right. You may relax now. Let the spell do its work, " Wolloff said.

She let the outside world flow back in. Instantly, the strange weariness that she had felt before was back, and far stronger. She felt dizzy, and nearly fell off of her chair. Her arm, though, felt wonderful. The terrible pain she'd come to live with was replaced with a gentle tingle. She pulled up the sleeve and loosened the bandage. Before her eyes the redness and swelling subsided. In moments, the debilitating injury was returned to the state it had been in when she received it. A simple, albeit severe, gash. Much to her chagrin, though, it was there that the spell seemed to stop its work.

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