Chapter 3: Magus Spells and Yellow Phosphorus (1)
Frightened, the guard captain shook like a leaf, but he knew he needed to maintain his composure. So he raised his head and trotted along.
“Your Highness, this man might be a wizard, the real thing. I saw him cast a flame with my own eyes…”
Richard, who walked to the deepest part of the dungeon, stopped at the last cell. There lies a man dressed in a black robe, much like a wizard. Unable to move freely, his four limbs were chained back with a rope stuffed and tied ‘round his mouth.
The guard captain reported that it was done to prevent the man from chanting and casting spells.
The other party raised his head, expression all too calm. There was no fear, different from the previous three men who’d been imprisoned by mistake. But looking at this prisoner’s calm eyes, Richard guessed that he had some tricks up his sleeves—though chances of his legitimacy were infinitely close to zero.
“Your Highness, this man caught our attention in a tavern one afternoon. He was wild, loud, and rambunctious, telling a tale of a fire dragon he’d seen, and even claimed his ability to conjure fire. Amid interrogation, he said he was a wizard and so we apprehended the man quickly else he’d cause us unnerving troubles with his enchantments.
“When we attempted to chain him, the soldiers and I bore witness to his fire that he cast in thin air. It’d almost burned one of my soldiers. I have no doubt, Your Highness, that this man is a wizard.”
The guard captain said courageously. One of his men soon appeared and carefully handed him a rucksack.
“Your Highness, inside the rucksack is the short staff and strange casting materials we found on him.”
“You… it’s best you let me go, friend. Foolish it is to anger me… Do you not know wizards ride fire-breathing dragons and can easily cast spells that’d cause your death?”
The chained wizard locked in the cell made a sound. Though his mouth was stuffed, laden with ropes, his speech was incoherent, yet one was still able to make out his threatening words.
Richard ignored the man and held the brown, decrepit rucksack on his hand. When he opened it, he saw several black sticks over 20 centimeters long and about 1 centimeter in diameter. The rest were bottles and cans full of unknown materials.
He casually twisted the bottle open and found that it had something yellow… like a wax candle. He brought the bottle close to his nose and inhaled the scent. It smelled something like garlic and he could not help chuckling.
“Your Highness, you…”
Richard pulled out the short staff in the rucksack, filled the edge with the yellow, wax-like object, and scratched hard on the stone wall next to him.
“Is this not the flame you saw before?”
Intense friction caused heat to build up. With the sound of poof, a cloud of fire emerged from the end of the short staff. It looked like a large match.
The guard captain stared wide-eyed. “Your Highness, are you… you can cast spells too?”
“What do you think?” Richard asked. “I too am interested in figuring out how magic works. It’d at least answer some of my questions and doubts. But the truth still needs to be said. Magic is magic. If I’m able to cast spells, would I need to work so hard to have you arrest someone?”
“But now you’re…” The guard captain trailed off, eyes locked in wonder at the burning staff.
“It’s just yellow phosphorus,” Richard said with a smile and threw the staff into a small puddle on the ground.
The red flame was no more.
“Yellow phosphorus?”
“Yes, yellow phosphorus,” Richard explained simply, “This yellow wax-like solid substance is yellow phosphorus. Its alternate name is white phosphorus. The melting point is at 44.1 °C (111.38 °F) and ignites at 34.0 °C (93.2 °F), which should be around the same temperature in the dungeon, as it is now. This substance is used to make matches, smoke bombs, and the like and has nothing to do with spells. You’ve made a mistake again.”
In frightening horror, the guard captain looked at Richard, whose countenance was emotionless. There was a sudden chill in his heart. With a thud, the guard captain fell on his knees and touched the ground with his forehead.
“Your Highness, I’ve made a mistake! Please allow me another chance to fix my errors! This time, I’ll catch the right person.”
“That’ll be your last.”
Reprieved of relief, the guard captain nodded hastily.
“Yes, Your Highness!”
Richard turned around and was about to leave with the false wizard’s rucksack when suddenly, an item caught his eyes. He took it out of the rucksack and saw a scaly snake-like skin almost the size of his palm.
Richard rubbed his fingers across it and brought his face to it, feeling as if he had been baked in front of a stove. It was unusual, and a bit like something that he had been looking for all along.
Richard’s eyes sharpened. He turned around and went to the cellar, raised the scaly, snakeskin in front of the false wizard, and asked, “What is this? Speak.”