Just a short piece that I wrote while wondering about the possible consequences of a novice mage "doing magic" without really knowing what he's doing:-
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Reynir rolled over with a groan.
He opened his eyes to the now-familiar sight of the ceiling above his bunk. He steeled himself and sat up.
Not bad, he thought - it only felt like the top of his head was coming off, rather than his skull exploding.
There was a sound of footsteps as someone climbed the steps into the tank. It was Tuuri. She paused timidly at the door. "How are you feeling?", she asked in a stage whisper.
"Bet - better...", he answered, starting in a normal speaking voice, but dropping to a whisper as the sound jangled through his head.
Tuuri's smiled in relief. "That...that's good - we were really worried! Do you feel like some food yet? Mikkel says you should try to eat something soon."
Reynir smiled - though it was an effort. "That depends - is it Squirrel-fur Stew or Candle-wax Soup?"
Tuuri grinned, then jumped as Mikkel spoke behind her. "You are feeling better, aren't you?", he rumbled. "Don't worry, I've been keeping an eye out for Lalli's little 'gifts' - and it's vegetable soup..."
"More's the pity! I told you I could bag some game easily enough and at least get a little meat in his diet - and on his skinny body!" Sigrun winked over Mikkel's broad shoulder.
Reynir winced slightly - even Sigrun's whispers were strident. "Some soup sounds fine", he whispered.
"How long has it been?" he asked, as Mikkel handed him a steaming bowl. "It feels like a lifetime since - since the night the ghosts came..."
"A week - you had me worried for the first few days." Mikkel handed him a spoon. "But you actually remember that night? That's good - I admit I was a little concerned. I was afraid the damage could have been...long-lasting."
Reynir sipped his soup. "Actually, it's quite clear - almost like it's...burnt into my brain", he murmured.
Tuuri leaned forward excitedly. "That's almost what happened! - At least, that's what Onni says..."
She blushed. "I-I'm sorry - that was a bit rude. It's just that - well, it was exciting! Scary - but exciting!"
Reynir smiled - 'exciting' was not the term he would have used.
Tuuri seemed to catch his thought and blushed again. "Not what happened to you, of course! That was awful!"
She stared at him. "But that was your magic, wasn't it? Icelandic magic?"
Reynir nodded. "I - only did something that I hoped would help..."
He dropped his gaze to his bowl. "I really didn't think, did I? I thought I was clever, creating my runes, writing them down... and I didn't even stop to wonder - where the power to make them work actually came from..."
Tuuri's eyes widened. "You mean..." He nodded and looked away, embarrassed. "When the ghosts pounced on us, the runes came to life, protecting the Team - by channelling all their power - from me!"
Sigrun flopped down in the seat next to him.
"Yep - according to your Finnish mage friend, you're lucky to be alive!" She grinned mischievously. "Do all mages do that? - I mean, overstrain themselves to an insane extent, then bleed from every orifice in their heads?!"
Sigrun's expression changed to a look of concern. "I swear, what with the screaming and the blood streaming down your face, I thought a troll had gotten past us..."
She gripped his shoulder. "You saved our lives, Mr. Stowaway, you know that? We would all be dead - if not for your little bits of paper..."
