Standing Stones - A Fansite for Clive Barker's Undying

Oneiros: 7 - Magic

The following is based on the game Clive Barker's Undying, ©. 2001 Electronic Arts Inc.

[1] Oneiros: 7 - Magic

Preface:
This story takes place midivalish, sometime after or during the crusades but well before the height of the renaissance. Trade is becoming more prevalent, along with the new middle class, and Europe is slowly coming out of the dark ages.

The story takes place over a span of around two decades, so each chapter title is prefaced by the main character's age at the time.

Author's note:
This is the first real story I've written. It has actual plot and things. I have notes. It's also the longest I've ever written by a factor of three(and I'm only a third of the way done as of right now... probably less). So if it's boring, if the writing sucks, if it's just plain bad... please don't hurt me. And if you decide to give up before chapter three, give me the benefit of the doubt. It starts slow out of necessity.

Questions or comments, contact me as Another Aurelia on AIM.

Oneiros

Part one - formative years

Chapter one - seven - magic

It was before dawn when Sylvie woke. Enough gray light to see by filtered through the small square window above her bed, and she could hear morning birds outside. She rose and dressed quietly. Careful not to wake Celina, who had been out late caring for the Morel's boy, who had been with fever, she descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. She lit the lamp and rekindled the oven, putting the remains of last night's stew on it to heat. Celina was the village healer and midwife and had taken in Sylvie as an apprentice when Sylvie's parents had died, her father murdered and her mother, who nobody would hire because of her bad arm, had drowned herself weeks later after leaving Sylvie with a friend. That had been three years ago, when Sylvie was four.

Being apprenticed to Celina wasn't bad. The work was hardly arduous and, though the village's healers had never charged for their work the people of the village provided for them. This arrangement had gone on for generations - Celina had said that her predecessor had told her that her own teacher didn't know when it had started, so it was at least a hundred years old - and nobody seemed inclined to change it. She had to know so much, though; countless cures and remedies, medicines and plants, and Celina had taught her to read and write two languages when few of the people could even read French.

By the time she had finished breakfast and her indoor chores, Celina had woken and nearly finished her own portion. Her hair was beginning to go gray, but she hadn't slowed with age. Sylvie opened the door to go weed her half of the garden.

"Wait," Celina called from the next room, "You won't be needing to do that today."

"I've something to tell you," she said, emerging from the doorway. She nodded toward the kitchen. "You may want to sit down. It could take a while."

Mystified, Sylvie went and sat at the small, round kitchen table, in the chair facing the southern windows. She listened as Celina went upstairs to the store room. There was silence for a minute, and then she returned, walking more slowly. She entered the kitchen looking faintly worried and carrying two books, which she laid on the table before sitting.

Sylvie looked at the books. The cover of the first, labeled in the second language Celina had taught her, read "To [control/harness/use" followed by the word aichen, which she didn't recognize. The second was labeled "Oneiros dictionary" in French, though the didn't know the first word.

Celina sighed softly. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked.

"Yes," replies Sylvie after a moment's thought.

"Yes, I thought you might. This conversation, it stays strictly between us. You're not to tell anybody for any reason whatsoever. Now... you've heard the priests talk of witches?"

Sylvie nodded. The priests said that witched had abandoned god. Sometimes there were stories in town of witched being killed in some far-off place.

"Well, I've never met a witch. Maybe they're evil, maybe not," Celina continued, "but I do know that there's such a thing as magic and that it's not evil in itself."

She paused for a moment. "Would you like me to tell you about it?" she asked. "I could just stop here, if you prefer."

"No, I think I'd rather know," said Sylvie.

Celina nodded.

"I'll start at the begging then. I've told you that I was a doctor's assistant in the city before I came here. The doctor dismissed me because I treated a patient before he arrived to diagnose the problem. Maybe he was right to dismiss me, though I did use the correct treatment. The patient, a minor noble by the name of Anton Bertrand, hired me as a servant. Probably in case he fell ill again."

Celina paused as though considering what to say then continued, speaking more slowly.

"I worked for him until his death, four years later. In the third year, he showed me two books he had found in the library. One-" she indicated the book whose cover wasn't in French- "was that book. The other was a basic guide to the language and, in a different hand, someone's attempt to translate the first book. Anton had found them years earlier and tried to finish the translation, but his health was declining - he was already old when he hired me - so he taught me what he knew in hopes that it wouldn't be lost. We knew enough at that point to understand most of the book's contents. It is about magic, not spells but how to-" she gestured vaguely "-control mana in order to power them, in a way. Anton took to his bed sick in the fall of the third year. I began experimenting with magic, trying to find a way to heal him. None of my experiments - on plants, mind - worked, but I found a way to..." she paused, searching for the right words "bolster something's life force, is the best way I can think of to put it. It lets people live through things that they would normally die from. But it fades quickly, and if they don't get better in the meantime they die. Still, it buys some time, maybe enough to bandage a would or for a fever to break.

"I managed to keep him alive through the winter, during which we write this dictionary, but he died that spring. I took the books, nor wanting them to be found, and left. I ended up here eventually, and the rest is dull, though -" the first book rose off the table and into her hands, and she leafed through the pages for a moment "-I've learned a few things in the meantime."

She replaced the book on the table and sat back, causing her chair to creak slightly. She watched Sylvie, trying to judge her reaction.

Sylvie was in shock. It seemed to her as though the world' underlying reality had been stripped away and that what remained was as ephemeral as a dream. The light looked wrong, at once too bright and too dark, and sounds seemed disjointed, as though they didn't quite correlate with what was happening. Magic was real. It was real, and it wasn't bad. Was it? No, it couldn't be. If Celina was evil, she wouldn't be a healer.

She looked up and saw that Celina was watching her, but couldn't find anything to say.

After a long pause, Celina went on, in a subdued tone of voice. "If anyone finds out, we'll probably both be killed. But there's people walking today who'd be dead if I hadn't used magic. I could teach you if you like. Think on it. I figure you'd be done with the garden by now, so this if your free time."

She made as if to gather the books and stand. Sylvie reached a decision quickly.

"I'll learn," she said. "Now, if this is my free time."

Celina smiled and sat back down.

"I couldn't bear knowing and not learning, or doing something else when I could be learning," Sylvie said by way of explanation.

Still smiling faintly, Celina nodded. "I remember what it's like, when you first learn. If fades eventually, for the most part. Now," she said, voice becoming brisk, "the first rule is that you must never use magic to hurt anyone or anything." She spoke for nearly a quarter hour, about rules and secrecy and morality, before giving Sylvie the books to read and going to the town.

Sylvie read until Celina returned in the afternoon, and on into the evening, the sun's light slanting through the window behind her, dulling and turning red as it crept across the stone floor and up the wall.

Late that night, light from the half moon shining through the window, she lay wide awake in her bed, unable to rest and anxious for the morning to come. She slept poorly, that night and for days to come.