Death Mages Ascent: Revised Edition (Death Mage Series Book 1) Read Free

out of the plain leather scabbard, he admired its craftsmanship as he ran a hand down its length. Because death mages lacked the direct offensive castings of other schools, Jaxom had learned the use of mundane weapons. His daily training with the castle’s Guard had earned him the open derision of the other mages.  They thought him foolish for learning how to fight with steel when  casting was much more formidable, but his training had saved his life on more than one occasion. 
    This sword was no ordinary weapon. Earth and fire mages had spent a day and a night forging it. Using their magic to heat and fold the steel thousands of times, they had created a near indestructible blade with a fine edge. What truly made this blade special, though, was Jaxom’s own addition of an enchantment. Most mages could not enchant at all, much less successfully. A mage had to channel raw energy and use it in ways not in line with their school of magic. No one knew why only some mages were capable of magic that differed from what they could cast. Many believed that the power hinted at a deeper, hidden ability to control all forms of magic, but Jaxom had never heard of anyone doing so. Such a mage would rival the gods in power.
    Whatever the reason for his ability to enchant, he was glad to be one of the few who could. The sword’s enchantment had been his most intricate and time consuming work, taking him almost a full ten-day. Now, his sword could absorb and redirect magical energy. As far as he knew, there was no other like it. Tucking the sword back into its hiding spot, Jaxom picked out a white tunic, simple black pants, and underclothes before closing the armoire again.
    In the bathing rooms, he peeled off his travel-grimed clothes while the stone tub filled with steaming water. Sliding slowly into the water, Jaxom leaned back and let the warmth soak into him, easing away tension he had not known was there. After dunking his head under, he went about the task of scrubbing away the dirt and grime. He slipped back under to rinse away the soap and emerged to find a man staring down at him.  With only a few years more than Jaxom’s twenty-five, Corin Baldrin still managed to wear a look of fatherly dissatisfaction on his bearded face. With clear blue eyes, sharp nose, and strong jaw, Corin stood a few inches taller than Jaxom and wore his blond hair long enough to brush his thick shoulders. He wore a dark blue robe over a red shirt and light brown pants belted with a silver falcon’s head buckle.
    “Your majesty,” Jaxom stammered. He wondered briefly if he should stand before deciding against it would be better to stay where he was. The cloudy water would preserve some of his dignity.
    “Don’t ‘your majesty’ me. You were supposed to report to me the moment you arrived back.”
    “I thought you would be in bed, your majesty,” Jaxom retuned, wincing a little at the edge in his voice.
    “You’re not supposed to think. Only do what you are told.” The king stared into Jaxom’s dark eyes. A moment of awkward silence settled over the small room as Jaxom struggled to think of what he had done to cause such anger in his friend. Then the firm line of the king’s lips broke into a smile, and he began to laugh loudly from his stomach.
    “I swear by the goddess,” he said between laughs. “You should have seen the look on your face.”
    “Yes, your majesty, a good joke,” he said lamely.
    “How many times have I told you, Jaxom. Call me Corin when it is just us. We’re friends after all.”
    “Fine… Corin, would you get out so I can dress, or would you prefer I give my report in the bare?” Jaxom instantly regretted his words. The jovial man might decide to make him do so to further his little joke.
    Thankfully, he didn’t take the bait. “Meet me in my quarters, but make it quick,” he said. As he reached the door, the king turned around. “People have been whispering tales of a man on a demon horse terrorizing