6. THE THIEF AND THE CAMPER

6. THE THIEF AND THE CAMPER

When Shan was much younger he could remember walking around their home, seeing the well built wooden buildings and their pristine structures. His father would take him on walks when he had time off his duty as clan prince, he would talk to his son about how well structured their society was and things like that.

Shan never did see the appeal in any of it, the buildings they lived in was constructed in wood. Planks nailed together, window frames with curtains hung over them, their buildings were all the same in a way and that bothered Shan greatly.

They always acted too composed for him, despite being the spawn of royal blood he was always distanced from their way of life. Maybe because of his absence of maguc or his natural attitude he never felt at place. Their society was a well structured web held together by the clan prince.

As Shan walked down the dirt road he went past a number of trees and food stalls, no one approached him. Some would greet him from afar and wave but they never came close.

They always portrayed him as a rare gem that had yet to shine but instead he felt they saw him as a disease. As the first son of the clan prince if he failed to become a mage and fail his trials he would lose his status as one of the upper class and become a Damu.

The magic nation was structured to have two classes, Shan did not know whether any other society outside in the vast world had theirs but this was how their world operated.

The upper class were called mages since they were the ones who wielded magic and had passed their mage trials, the lower class were those who developed weak magic potential or slowly lost theirs and they were the slaves who served in the mage households.

The slaves did not live in any of the distinguished houses the mages lived in, where they lived was the slums. It was a farther region of the mage nation filled poorly constructed houses and the absence of light. If Shan failed to develop him magic in a month's time, he would most likely end up as a slave. The disgrace itself would kill him.

He could not fail.

As the sun was slowly beginning to set he finally realised how long he had been sleeping for in the oasis. As the darkness began to stretch, the street lamps started to meant a light glow. The street lamps were long metal black poles with a curved top, when night came a ball of light would appear on it. The magic would last the whole night.

Shan had heard rumours of the slaves using things called lanterns. He had always had an interest in slave tools and perhaps that was because of his imminent fate to be one one.

Shan slapped himself hard. "What the hell are you thinking of. You're not slave, you're the son of the clan prince."

He was in no hurry to get home anyway, but it was late. Shan have never been out that late before, he usually spent his time in his home library in the luxury palace. He chewed on his fingers in agitation, which was a bad habit of his. He wracked his mind on the event of the day, he only managed to pass his test due to luck, what Reo Danai said had him wondering if spirit magic was a real thing.

Shan smiled as he finally reached the dwelling he was looking for, it was a house similar to the others but it was isolated as a far part of the town. It was a smaller house that looked like it could hold no more than a few people.

Despite the fat that mages were revered around the world they were just an handful compared to all others. Their total number was totaling around a few thousand while rumours suggested that other nations outside their walls had far exceeded hundred of thousands.

Shan could remember the stories of his ancestors being a group of refugees from the wars of the outside world. When they came to the land they would call Sorcerene, they found that they were chosen by the gods. They were gifted their magic sigils and made this place as their sanctuary. Despite their small number they were the strongest in the world, though Shan did not want to believe that in its entirety.

He pushed open the small gate that barely reached his waist and entered into the compound of the building. Unlike other buildings this was was much smaller and build with stone bricks, Shan always suspected that some type of architect built it in the early days of their nation.

This building belonged to the one person even the clan prince dared not disturb. Shan reached the small wooden door of the building and knocked on it gently. There was complete silence, even the wind was still. He waited for a bit and knocked again but still no response, he ended up reaching for the door handle and letting himself in.

As he sucked his head under the door frame and walked into it he was greeted by a huge mansion space. On the outside it was small but inside it was massive, Shan had always wondered how she made it look like this. No other mage had showed this level of magic power except for her.

He shut the door beside him and walked into the mansion after taking off his sandals by the doorway, she always hated when someone walked around with footwear on. Before him was a wide opening, a huge staircase able to accompany a few dozen people up.

To his left and right as usual were strange items, like cloth racks, hats which mages did not use, pieces of clothing that did not seem from their culture, paintings, chests, and so much more.

Shan knew the first floor was filled with them so he headed for the stairs, "Aunt? Are you there?" He asked but of course she was there, she rarely left her home. But he had to make sure she could hear him, usually she would answer him by the door or when he came in but hings were oddly silent that day. It made him a little jumpy.

Shan pushed back a few uneven strands of green hair back from his face as he climbed up the stairs. He eventually reached the top and made his way to the massive kitchen. On the table was a bowl giving of a little bit of steam, there was the smell of his favourite treat that she always gave him. And from the looks of it, they were warm, she always greeted him with them. This meant that she clearly expected his arrival but she was not here.

His aunt had always been a peculiar contrast to his always serious father. While his father was a brutal fellow, she was strange and fun.

Not wanting to be rude, Shan reached into the bowl and took a handful of the treat called "cookies". Mages did not cook, they found the task took low for them so they had their slaves do that. But she was different, she did whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. Shan could attribute some of his own "individuality" to her.

To be clear she was not a bad influence on him like his father usually said, instead she was his motivator to always try something new.

Due to greed Shan happened to end up with the full blown of cookies, he walked to her study room, bedroom and placed where she always checked her antics and paintings but she was nowhere to be found.

Curious of a certain painting Shan approached it, it was a mural of a colossal size. "I don't think I've seen this before." It depicted a very unsettling image. The background was a nightmare sky but instead of black it was white, the stars were spots of black.

There was a forest settinf with high trees and small grasses in green, and in the middle was a tent, painted ash, from the tents mouth was a figure looking out at something, the figure was painted red like blood.

Just a few feet away was a second figure looking neither make nor female, one hand was outstretched to the figure in the tent and the other hidden behind holding up a curved dagger. This figure was in black.

Whether there was an hidden meaning to it Shan did not know but he knew one thing for sure, whoever painted this was deeply troubled. He stood there for more than half an hour without moving, the mural drew him in.

Just then a voice spoke up causing him to jump back, the voice of an old woman spoke. "Murals are the doors to the soul little Shan, but how did you find this piece."

Shan turned and looked at at her with startled eyes. She was the only one who had ever spooked him so much and she was very good at it.

The woman continued. "This here mural is that of the thief and the camper, I hear its a prophetic load of bullshit."

Shan's people did not curse with such vile words, and this was another bad habit Shan picked up from her.