Stolen Lives: A LitRPG/GameLit Novel (The Underhill Chronicles Book 1) by Keith Ahrens (interesting novels to read .TXT) 📕

I smile to myself. I would have thought a lot less than that had made it. Guess this magic gig is pretty effective.

“Can anyone learn to use this magic?”

“I dunno. Probably not, or everyone around here would be blowin' shit up. There are things that folk can use that already have magic in them. Kinda like a loaded gun, you'd just have to know how to pull the trigger.”

“Where does the power come from in the first place? Like... I mean, electricity is made by generators, and cars are powered by gas. What powers this magic?”

He thinks for a few moments before replying. “I think it comes from the person using it. Look at what happened to little ol' Thorn. She was just about all used up, and it almost killed her. See, there's a bit of magic everywhere around us. Some places have more than others. Some magic folk can use the magic around them, but it goes quick-like. And I've seen other things, crystals or gems or such that work kind of like batteries so the user doesn't have to drain themselves.”

“Oh, like the tuning fork the first time she healed me,” I say, catching on.

“Nope,” Des replies, matter-of-fact. “That’s a focus, and that was the second time she healed you. A focus just makes it easier for her to use that particular spell. Kinda like a magnifying glass but only for that type of magic. She couldn't use it to say… throw a fireball or something."

“How the hell do you know all this?” Haynes breaks in, suspicion heavy in his voice.

“Well, ya' know how I said I could feel the wards on the arming room? Thorn's been teaching me some things when we get a few minutes. I can't do much yet, but I'm working on it.”

“Well, work harder, Son. We gotta get outta this Hellhole soon, and a little magic could go a long way.” Haynes sits up, careful not to wake Thorn. “It’s getting worse around here.”

“Has anyone else ever tried to escape?” I sit up as well, rattling my leg shackle.

“Shh!" Haynes puts his finger up to his lips and glares at me. "Yeah. You saw most of them outside lining the wall of the practice fields… in the decaying armor. Last one was over six months ago, and he's still alive in there. Or alive as one could be.”

I shudder, thinking about those poor bastards rotting in those rusting suits.

“Has anyone ever made it?”

“Dunno. No one's ever sent a postcard back to us. Or the cavalry to come get us…” sighs Des.

“Cavalry?! Is the charge happening so soon? Where's the bloody Colonel?!”

“Jesse! Shut the hell up!” whispers Des as loud as he dares.

“Set bayonets, men! Fire on the horses!”

“Stand down, Soldier! That’s an order!” Haynes whispers in a harsh, commanding tone.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Jesse seems to freeze in place for a moment, then slowly lies back down. He's snoring again before the jailer even reaches our cell.

We wait a few more minutes after the ogre shuffles off to make sure everything has quieted down once more.

“It’s becoming obvious that I will gain no rest here tonight,” Thorn mutters aloud, breaking the silence.

“Thorn, I—” starts Haynes.

“No, it’s all right, Elias. Anyway, I may have some… news. I wanted to tell you sooner." She tries to stifle a yawn. "It’s from a less-than-reliable friend, but we may have a way out.”

“What?” I blurt, almost too loudly.

“Calm yourself, Stupid One. I need some time to gather more information. You should use that to gather any allies you trust.”

“What kind of time frame are we looking at?” asks Haynes, all professional.

“The next full moon. The lunar phase links up with your own world for three nights. If we can even escape the castle and keep in the first place, the nearest gate I know of is nearly a day's ride from here, deep within the woods.”

“I think a moonlit hike sounds just darlin' right about now,” quips Des. “Sure beats dying in here or out on someone else's battlefield. I was born and raised in the backwoods of Pennsylvania. I can get us through any woods y’all got.”

“There are dangers. Wild Fey who owe no allegiance to any House, and unpredictable Mage Storms. The very real possibility of dying in a myriad of horrible ways…” Thorn finishes, unsure and unsettled.

“Wild Fey can't want to kill us any more than the assholes already holding us captive… but what’s a Mage Storm?” I ask, not liking the sound of it.

“Well, all magic comes from one of the Six Basic Alchemical Elements: earth, fire, wind, water, death, and life.”

Six elements? I’ve always thought there were only four, but I guess Life itself can be considered an element in this sense. And each one has an opposite, so I guess if Life counts, Death must also.

She continues, “Some areas are prone to stronger pockets of magic, such as a lake that many generations of Naiads have called home, or a forest grove protected by numerous Dryads. When the borders of these areas grow large enough to meet, the Magics collide and unleash wild magics or 'Mage Storms.' Sometimes it will be burning rain or poisoned air. Other times, a Storm can literally drown your soul while your body lives on.” She shudders faintly with that last one. “On rare occasions, they can create healing waters or glades of solace.”

“So, who is this friend, and can he be trusted?” asks Haynes, suspicion thick in his voice.

“He is called Osmanthus. A Highborn who was banished to your world for a century. He talks of his 'punishment’ as the best one hundred years of his existence. He developed a deep fondness for you humans and your world. I think he's been looking for a way and an excuse to return for a long time. He thinks he's found a way, and I believe him.”

10

The sword crashes against my shield hard enough