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Myron hurried up the tower's stone steps as fast as he could with the back pack weighing him down. The fact the his drab uniform was a little over-sized on him wasn't helping either, but they had told him that it was the closest thing that they had in his size. Pushing up his glasses, he saw that he still had a ways to go to the top, so he took a deep breath and soldiered on. He was going to need the books he lugged along in his sack. Though the pages were blank now, when he returned from his mission, they would be full of priceless information. The scrawny young scribe had been assigned to accompany a very important ambassadorial mission and he was determined to make his family proud.
Until recently, the kingdom had been in a century long war with the land across the sea, a land ruled by a monstrous overlord and inhabited by every manner of vicious monster and beast imaginable. The powerful ruler had set his sights on taking control of the human kingdom as well, but year after year had been pushed back by the defending forces. Now, after generations of fighting and countless battles, news had arrived from across the sea that the Overlord had been overthrown by forces within his own land and now, the new ruler wanted to negotiate an end to the constant warring between the two lands. There had also been stories telling that the monsters of the distant land had also changed with the seating of the new ruler, with the lethal creatures that once filled the land slowly being replaced with new monster races that were said to be more welcoming of humans.
Stories of such miraculous changes were hard to believe, but that was part of the reason the the human kingdom was sending a negotiating group. Both to exchange niceties with the new ruler of the land, and also, to verify whether or not any of the stories were true. Information from the enemy land had been hard to come by during the war, but now, with rumors of such changes happening, information gathering was even more vital.
The young scribe was breathing hard by the time he reached the expansive room at the top of the steps, a domed enclosure filled with crystals and runes that was normally visited only by the kingdom's most senior wizards.
The rest of the ambassador's group was already waiting for him, a mixture of high-level politicians, soldiers and a wealthy merchant looking to expand his market. Myron had been chosen as the group's scribe primarily because any senior scribes had declined the offer to visit the monstrous lands. The group was gathered in the center of the room, all within a great glowing circle of runes and sigils carved into the floor.
Myron quickly made his way into the circle as well, making doubly sure not to disturb any of the markings on the floor. This circle was going to transport all of them to the land across the sea and though he had no idea how it worked, he was quite sure that he didn't want to alter the wizard's spell in any way.
"Ah good. Our bookkeeper has finally arrived," one of the men said dryly. Noting his dark goatee and gold trimmed coat, Myron recognized him at Lord Vezari, the lead ambassador.
Still panting, the young scribe held up a hand and apologized. "So sorry, Lord! There was a bit of an issue finding a proper uniform for me, but I'm here now!"
The man with the goatee made no sign that he had bothered listening to the scribe and instead turned to the mages, who were all double and triple checking that everything was ready for performing the teleportation spell. "Wizards. We are ready to depart."
The bearded, fidgety old men all nodded their head and began to set things in motion, sprinkling glittering dust around the edge of the circle and chanting words that were unintelligible to anyone besides themselves. As the circle began to glow brighter, Myron began to feel that his body was lifting into the air though when he looked down to his feet, they were still on the ground. As the glow grew more, the lifting feeling began to feel more like being stretched like taffy, with the scribe's feet seeming like they were growing further and further away. Just as it reached the point where he felt as though he was being stretched to the edge of breaking, his feet left the floor and snapped after him. Suddenly the entire group was being hurtled through the air, so fast the the ground beneath them was nothing more than blurs of green, blue and brown.
The scribe was in awe, being familiar with the basic concept of magic but never having actually experienced it for himself. Grabbing the straps of his backpack to make sure that he wouldn't lose it to the blurring landscape below. He was so entranced by the experience of it all, he didn't notice that he seemed to be drifting away from the rest of the group. By the time he glanced back toward them, they were far out of reach.
One of the soldiers noticed his departure and called out, "Aye! Scribe! Get back in line!"
Still holding his backpack straps, Myron kicked his legs in an effort to comply, as though he were swimming, but his slow drift away continued. He kicked his legs more urgently and suddenly felt something pull at his feet. The pull quickly increased dragging him down and within seconds, he lost sight of the rest of his group. Looking down, he realized that the blue blur of the water below him was fading as he slowed down. He looked forward to see he was rapidly approaching the shore of some land.
Realizing that at the speed he was travelling he would hit the ground like a cannonball and that the impact would most likely kill him, Myron closed his eyes, said a quick prayer and then promptly blacked out as he hurtled through the air.
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