The Shamanic Training
Part One: A Future Written in Fire
By Sean Talbot
Sean sat quietly behind his desk, contemplating the events that had brought him to his new position as Administrator of the School of Magic.
A month had passed since his appointment, yet he was still struggling to understand the decision.
How could the previous administrator have permitted a convicted and cursed lawbreaker to assume responsibility for an institution of such importance?
Worse still, how could the Tribal Circle have allowed it?
He almost laughed at the absurdity.
After all, he was that lawbreaker.
The curse was difficult enough to endure without the constant reminders of his disgrace. Yet if his experiences could prevent even one young Shaman or Wizard from suffering the same fate, perhaps the burden would be worthwhile.
His immediate concern, however, was finding another Shaman willing to teach at the school.
The Tribal Circle remained deeply unhappy with the change in leadership. Unfortunately for them, the appointment had already been made, and the school now answered to Sean rather than to the Circle.
Sean sighed and reached toward the small communication crystal resting on his desk.
“Alysha, would you please send in the first candidate?”
“Of course, Master Sean.”
Moments later, the door opened.
A tall woman entered, dressed in traditional doeskin clothing that seemed strangely out of place in the modern world. Her dark hair flowed down her back, nearly reaching her knees. Her strong jaw and confident bearing suggested something beyond the abilities of an ordinary Shaman.
She was a warrior.
Sean recognized the signs immediately. The Circle had not sent him a conventional instructor; it had sent someone trained to confront danger, whether or not she was willing to admit that danger might also lie within herself.
He gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.
“You are the candidate the Circle has sent, I presume. Please state your name and your primary gift.”
The woman remained standing.
“Laranee of the Inuit,” she replied firmly. “My gift, as you call it, is Fire Generation.”
Sean nodded.
“An impressive ability. And why has the Circle sent you here?”
Laranee laughed, although there was little warmth in the sound.
“Because no other Shaman wanted to be associated with you. You’ve already brought shame upon the Circle, and few are willing to risk their reputations by serving under you.”
She folded her arms.
“As for me, the Circle believes I sometimes take matters too far. Perhaps they thought placing us together would solve two problems at once.”
“How convenient.”
“I intend to demonstrate what a true Shaman can accomplish without breaking every rule we have sworn to uphold.”
Sean studied her.
There was something beneath her confidence. Something carefully concealed.
He allowed his Sight to awaken.
His eyes shifted from their natural colour to a brilliant, luminous blue.
“You believe you can take control of this school,” he said quietly. “You intend to convince the Circle to replace me with someone more suitable.”
Laranee’s expression changed.
Then she laughed.
“So the Oracle spoke the truth. You really are as gifted as she claimed.”
Sean said nothing.
“Yes,” Laranee continued. “Daralan believes that once another Shaman has demonstrated your inadequacies, the Circle will have sufficient grounds to appoint a proper successor.”
Sean leaned back in his chair.
“Interesting.”
He studied her for another moment.
“You have considerable power, Laranee. Unfortunately, you also possess something far more dangerous.”
“And what would that be?”
“Fear.”
Her expression hardened.
“I fear nothing.”
“Everyone fears something.”
Sean stood.
“And I believe it is time you confronted yours.”
Before she could respond, his eyes blazed with blue light.
“My Sight to yours, our thoughts entwined. Open the paths concealed within the mind. Let what is feared be brought to sight, and show the future hidden from the light.”
The air between them shimmered.
Laranee tried to pull away.
But the vision had already taken hold.
—
A Future Written in Fire
Pain tore through Laranee’s mind.
She stumbled forward, only to discover that Sean’s office had vanished.
She stood beneath a darkened sky.
Ash drifted through the air like black snow.
Before her lay the shattered remains of the School of Magic.
The great towers had collapsed. The classrooms were reduced to smoking ruins, and the once-beautiful grounds had become a wasteland of scorched earth.
She could still hear the screams.
Children.
Teachers.
Shamans.
All consumed by the flames.
Her flames.
Laranee looked down at her trembling hands.
She remembered the moment her control had broken. The terror. The anger. The overwhelming surge of power that had escaped her grasp.
Fire had erupted from her body, spreading through the school faster than anyone could contain it.
Hundreds had died.
And now she was hunted.
The Tribal Circle had declared her a traitor. Her actions had destroyed what many believed to be the magical world’s greatest hope for survival.
But the Circle was not the only force pursuing her.
Sean was coming.
She felt his presence before she saw him.
Stepping into the pale daylight, Laranee found him waiting among the ruins.
His eyes burned with a terrible blue radiance.
There was no compassion in his expression.
Only grief.
And fury.
“You betrayed me,” he said.
His voice carried across the devastation.
“You destroyed everything we were sworn to protect. Children trusted us with their lives, and you answered that trust with fire.”
“Sean, please—”
“You have broken your oaths.”
He raised his hands.
Laranee staggered backward.
“No!”
“I cast upon you the Darkened Sight. Let your mind be driven from the light. Souls that see and souls that be, turn the betrayer from the light!”
The words struck her like physical blows.
She screamed.
Her skin began to pale, turning an unnatural shade of white. Her long hair twisted into matted, writhing strands resembling serpents. Her eyes sank deep into their sockets, while her teeth blackened and cracked.
She felt something inside her tearing apart.
Not her body.
Her soul.
The light was leaving her.
And in its place, something ancient and terrible began to awaken.
She was becoming Darkened.
—
The Warning
Laranee awoke screaming.
She was back in Sean’s office.
Her hands clutched the arms of the chair she had somehow fallen into. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Sean stood across from her, his eyes slowly returning to their natural colour.
“Now you have seen what lies before you.”
Laranee stared at him.
“What did you do to me?”
“I showed you a possible future.”
“Possible?”
“Yes. A future that may come to pass if you continue allowing fear and anger to control your abilities.”
She shook her head.
“I would never hurt those children.”
“I believe you.”
“Then why show me something so horrible?”
“Because believing you would never do something and ensuring you never do it are two very different things.”
Laranee lowered her gaze.
“I don’t want to become that monster.”
Sean’s expression softened.
“Then don’t.”
She looked up.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It isn’t. Believe me, I know.”
For a moment, something dark passed across his face.
“You fear losing yourself to your power,” he continued. “That fear is justified. Fire Generation is among the most destructive gifts a Shaman can possess. Without discipline, it can consume everything around you.”
“Why would the Circle send me here if they knew?”
“Because the Oracle asked them to.”
Laranee stared at him.
“The Oracle?”
Sean nodded.
“She has tried to reach you before, but you refused to listen. She sees something extraordinary in your future, something that cannot happen if you surrender yourself to the Darkness.”
He moved toward the door.
“Unlike the Circle, she does not see me merely as the Cursed One or the Shaman who brought disgrace upon our people.”
“What does she see?”
Sean paused.
“Someone who might help you become what you were meant to be.”
He opened the door.
“The teaching position is yours, Laranee, if you wish to accept it.”
She remained silent for several moments.
Then she nodded.
“I accept.”
“Good. Alysha will arrange your accommodations and introduce you to the other instructors.”
Laranee rose slowly.
At the doorway, she hesitated.
“Master Sean?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Sean offered a faint smile.
“Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t met the students.”
She managed a small laugh before leaving.
The door closed behind her.
Almost immediately, Sean felt the familiar pressure of a magical Sending. The Oracle had been listening through the school’s communication network, as she often did when matters concerned the Circle’s interests.
He sighed.
“You heard everything, Oracle.”
A shimmering figure appeared before him.
The Oracle regarded him with an expression of quiet concern.
“I did.”
“And?”
“You accomplished what I could not.”
“That’s becoming a rather unpleasant habit.”
She ignored his sarcasm.
“I fear she still does not understand what you are capable of, Sean. The vision you showed her was disturbing.”
“It was meant to be.”
“You Darkened her.”
“In one possible future.”
“Even so, the fact that you could perform such a spell troubles me.”
Sean folded his arms.
“It troubles me as well.”
“The school is important, not merely to the Circle, but to the entire magical world. If Laranee destroys it—”
“She won’t.”
The Oracle studied him.
“You sound remarkably certain.”
“I’ve already instructed the teachers to reinforce the school’s protective wards. Fire suppression, elemental containment, and shielding against destructive magic are being incorporated into the defenses.”
“You planned for this?”
“Of course.”
Sean gave her a tired smile.
“Use your Sight, Oracle. Look again.”
Her eyes brightened.
For several moments, she remained motionless.
Then her expression changed.
“The vision…”
“Has changed.”
She looked at him with renewed interest.
“You continue to surprise me.”
“Someone has to.”
The Oracle smiled faintly before her Sending dissolved.
Sean was alone once more.
He sank into his chair.
How was he supposed to manage a Shaman who could start fires simply by losing her temper?
Fire Generation had always troubled him.
It was one of the most valuable gifts when confronting the forces of Darkness, yet it was also among the most dangerous.
History was filled with examples of Shamans who had lost control.
The worst had been Odral.
Five thousand people had died when the Shaman unleashed his powers beneath a mountain, triggering a catastrophic volcanic eruption.
To this day, ordinary people believed the disaster had been a natural event.
Only the magical community knew the truth.
It had been an act of terror.
And Sean had no intention of allowing history to repeat itself.
—
The Dragon in the Mirror
Sean rose from his desk and approached the tall mirror mounted against the far wall.
Its polished surface reflected his tired expression.
For a moment, he studied himself.
Then he lowered his gaze.
“Saladrax.”
The mirror rippled.
Its surface darkened, becoming something closer to liquid shadow than glass.
A figure stepped through.
Humanoid in shape, the creature possessed leathery skin, reptilian features, and brilliant green-and-black eyes. His movements were graceful, almost unnaturally so.
Saladrax, a dragon of considerable age and power, regarded Sean with amusement.
“Master Sean. I take it something has gone terribly wrong.”
Sean smiled.
“Why would you assume that?”
“Because you rarely summon me when everything is going well.”
“Fair point.”
Saladrax flicked his forked tongue.
“What troubles you?”
“I’ve hired a new instructor. Laranee of the Inuit. Fire Generation.”
“Ah.”
“That doesn’t sound encouraging.”
“Fire Generation rarely is.”
Sean gestured toward the chair.
“What do you sense about her?”
Saladrax tilted his head.
“You have the Sight. Surely you already know.”
“I see possibilities. You sense things differently.”
“That is true.”
The dragon considered him.
“Very well. What would you like to know?”
“Whether she’s dangerous.”
Saladrax laughed.
“Of course she’s dangerous. She’s a powerful Shaman who can create fire. The more useful question is whether she intends to harm anyone.”
“And?”
“She smells of fear. Considerable fear, in fact. I suspect your little demonstration had something to do with that.”
Sean winced.
“I may have shown her something unpleasant.”
“How very unlike you.”
“Are all dragons sarcastic?”
“Only the intelligent ones.”
Sean chuckled despite himself.
Saladrax continued.
“I do not sense true evil within her. There are shadows, certainly, but darkness has not yet taken root in her soul. She remains connected to the White.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“She does not trust you, however.”
“That makes two of us.”
Saladrax studied him more carefully.
“You’re worried about the futures you’ve seen.”
Sean nodded.
“There are too many. In some, she becomes an extraordinary teacher. In others, she loses control and destroys everything around her.”
“And you believe you must prevent every possible disaster?”
“I believe I should try.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Sean looked away.
“Some futures are beyond my ability to change.”
“Perhaps. But you’ve already changed one.”
“That doesn’t mean I can change them all.”
Saladrax’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re still thinking about the curse.”
Sean remained silent.
The dragon sighed.
“You have spent years convincing yourself that your past defines everything you are capable of becoming.”
“Some mistakes cannot be undone.”
“No. They cannot.”
Saladrax moved closer.
“But that does not mean you must spend eternity punishing yourself.”
Sean turned toward the window.
“Before the curse, I knew what was right. I trusted my judgment. I believed the decisions I made were necessary.”
“And now?”
“Now I question everything.”
His voice grew quieter.
“None of my team survived. The Circle executed the last of them. And I was left behind.”
Saladrax said nothing.
“For five years, I served as the true Oracle. I saw futures that others could barely comprehend. I made decisions that affected thousands of lives.”
Sean clenched his fists.
“And still, I failed.”
“You survived.”
“Sometimes I wonder if that was the punishment.”
The dragon’s expression softened.
“Sean…”
“I don’t know if I could ever Darken another soul. Even someone who deserved it.”
“Good.”
Sean turned.
“Good?”
“Yes. The fact that you fear using such power tells me you still understand its consequences.”
“The Circle didn’t Darken me.”
“No. They could have, but they chose not to.”
“They cursed me instead.”
“Because they still saw goodness in you.”
Sean laughed bitterly.
“An interesting way of demonstrating their faith.”
“Humans have always possessed strange methods of expressing themselves.”
Saladrax returned to the mirror.
“You have the power to Darken a soul, just as I possess the ability to banish someone into the Mirror Realm. Neither gift should be used lightly.”
“I know.”
“And perhaps one day, you might consider joining us.”
Sean stared at him.
“Becoming a dragon?”
“Why not?”
“The Circle would never allow it.”
“Since when have you allowed the Circle to determine every aspect of your existence?”
“Since they cursed me.”
Saladrax’s expression hardened.
The leathery humanoid form shimmered.
Blue scales spread across his body as his limbs lengthened and his wings unfolded. Within moments, the figure standing before Sean had transformed into a magnificent dragon, his scales gleaming like polished sapphires.
Even in the confined chamber, the creature radiated immense power.
“You could break that curse,” Saladrax said.
Sean looked up.
“We’ve discussed this.”
“And you continue to refuse to listen.”
“Because it isn’t that simple.”
“It is precisely that simple.”
The dragon lowered his enormous head.
“Forgive yourself.”
Sean said nothing.
“Release the guilt that binds your soul. Stop believing that every death, every mistake, and every tragedy must remain your burden forever.”
“You know I can’t.”
“No,” Saladrax replied. “I know you won’t.”
The words struck harder than Sean expected.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Finally, the dragon straightened.
“And another thing. You were not appointed Administrator because of your curse.”
Sean raised an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“You were chosen because you are one of the most gifted magical practitioners alive. The Circle may dislike you, but even they cannot deny your abilities.”
Sean smiled faintly.
“You do have an unusual way of offering encouragement.”
“I am a dragon. We are not known for our delicate handling of fragile human emotions.”
With that, Saladrax stepped backward.
The mirror rippled once more, swallowing the dragon as he returned to his realm.
Sean watched until the surface became ordinary glass again.
Dragons.
Powerful, ancient, and entirely too certain of their own wisdom.
Still, he was grateful to count one among his mentors.
And another among his teachers.
End of Part One
Continued in Part Two: The Night Walker
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