by V. St. Clair
17
Cal and Torin
By the next day, everyone in the school seemed to have heard about Asher’s discovery and was eager to see and be seen with him. It was a little daunting, having so many people congratulate him, laugh at his jokes, and bat their eyelashes at him for attention. He was late to Wands because he couldn’t shake a group of second-year girls who wanted to know every miniscule detail of his life, judging by the number of questions they asked.
This must be how it feels to be Aleric all the time.
He had occasionally been jealous of his friend’s universal popularity, but now that he was experiencing some of it for himself it was actually exhausting, and he didn’t know how his friend remained in good spirits for all these years. Even Maralynn was trying to spend more time with him, which was a good thing in general, though he couldn’t help but question her motives for doing so.
“Hey, Trish!” he saw her in the corridor that led to the dining hall after dinner. She looked surprised to be singled out by him, and blushed as a cluster of girls walked past her and scowled at her for being the recipient of his attention.
Finally, someone who was friends with me before all this and isn’t trying to stalk me now that I’m popular, he thought as he moved towards Tricia.
“I’ve been trying to find you all day,” he explained, turning his back on the group of girls. “Sorry for earning you those evil glares from that flock of third-years…it’s a little creepy being famous.”
Tricia rolled her eyes at the girls, who were still scowling at her from a distance, and then turned her attention back to Asher.
“It’s okay. They’re probably jealous because they heard you and I went dancing a while ago and they think there’s something going on between us.” She sounded like the idea was ridiculous, though her cheeks were still red.
“Oh, right. Well, anyway…I wanted to thank you for being the inspiration behind my great success.”
“Excuse me?” she raised an eyebrow at him, looking thoroughly confused.
“That day you interrupted me in my workroom, when I had my head in the water—”
“And you almost drowned?” she added, suddenly remembering.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “When you broke my concentration, I accidentally picked up on an alignment-modifier without really knowing what I was doing, and it made my spell sort-of successful. That was what I focused on afterwards, when I finally realized that I needed to stop trying to reinvent the wheel and work on modified modifiers—lord that sounds stupid—instead.”
She still looked a little uncertain as she said, “I only understood about a third of that, but I take it you’re happy with me?”
“Yes, of course! You inadvertently inspired me to make my grand discovery, so I wanted to thank you properly. We should go to dinner sometime to celebrate; I think I can afford to take you to a decent place now instead of a bench next to a kebob stand…or at least, once the initial royalties for my work clear, I’ll be able to.”
Tricia’s ears turned red but she smiled and said, “Sure, I’d like that, though it doesn’t really matter to me where we go. I had fun last time, even though I was mortified at looking like an idiot in front of all those nice old people.”
Asher grinned and said, “Well this time, since it’s your night, I’ll try not to embarrass you too badly. I’ll even comb my hair—if that’s possible. Hey, look, I’ve got to run, but we can talk more later…we’ve got an arena soon, don’t we?”
“Yes, in a week.”
“Okay, cool, then we’ll talk at our next pre-arena meeting. See you around; thanks again!” he called out, continuing down the hall towards the pentagonal foyer and whistling cheerfully.
A guy he barely recognized on sight called out, “You can get any girl you want right now and you ask out Tricia?”
Indignant on his friend’s behalf, because they knew nothing about her or how thoughtful and nice she was, he snapped out, “Trish is worth ten of you, so shut that obnoxious hole in your face or I’ll do it for you.”
He didn’t even bother slowing down as he addressed the random busybody, wishing that people had better things to focus on than his private business, though he supposed he needed to get used to the feeling if he was trying to be in the spotlight for his work.
He ran into the Prism Master just before he reached the pentagonal foyer, and Asher’s mentor called out to him to prevent him from continuing on his way.
“A moment, please.” He gestured towards an empty classroom, and Asher raised an eyebrow and followed Antwar inside. The Prism Master shut the door behind them, which made Asher wonder what they were going to discuss that needed to be done privately.
“I’m already late for Wands, sir…” he explained, glancing hopelessly at the closed door.
“Tell Willow you were with me,” the Prism Master said airily, brushing away his concern with a wave of the hand. Without further ado, he added, “The Council of Mages is working with other noted prism-users from around the Nine Lands to validate your research.”
Asher exhaled in relief at the topic, glad that he wasn’t about to be reprimanded for anything when he was in such a good mood.
“Oh, well, good. I wasn’t sure how long it normally takes them to start the process of vetting someone’s work, or if there was a long queue of people ahead of me. How long does that whole thing usually take from start to finish?” he asked curiously, not knowing much about the entire process. Some things seemed to happen very quickly with the Council of Mages, while others got held up in bureaucracy for years.
The Prism Master gave a little shrug and said, “Hard to say. Long enough for them to be convinced that your discovery isn’t a fluke, and that the method is universally applicable, or to note exceptions. It being a fairly significant discovery, they have a lot of resources looking into it right now, so you might hear something in a few weeks if you’re lucky.”
Asher was surprised but pleased to learn that they were as excited about his discovery as he was. It would be nice to have it all official in a matter of weeks; they could potentially add it to the very next edition of the Prism textbooks if they had an answer before the conclusion of summer, and he could get the satisfaction of finally seeing his name in print.
“Any news on how it’s going so far? You must be involved in those discussions, being one of the prism-user experts they would lean on for the validation phase.”
Master Antwar tilted his head in concession and said, “Yes, I’ve been in some of the meetings…though they are hesitant to rely on my advice too much, as I am your mentor and there is a potential conflict of interest.”
Surprised, Asher asked, “Why is that?”
The Prism Master looked at him like he was being deliberately obtuse.
“Because, as your mentor, I have a vested interest in your success, as it would reflect well on me as an instructor—or so the theory goes.”
Asher wasn’t sure if he meant the last part as a dig against him—that he wasn’t truly interested in the success of his pupil at all—or if he was just being flippant. They’d had such a strained relationship ever since the beginning of Asher’s schooling, especially with the Golden Boy, Aleric Frost, to compare him against.
“Oh, I see,” he replied, determined to be polite while he was basking in the glory of his discovery. “So…how’s it going so far?”
Antwar pursed his lips briefly as though he didn’t really want to answer the question, but for some reason he must have felt compelled to honesty because he said, “Very well, from what I can tell. There are rumors that they might have to give you a medal for your work, if they can’t find any glaring problems with it. Significant discoveries like this have been rare in recent years, so this is a fairly big deal for the magical community.”
Asher’s mouth dropped comically open and he stuttered, “A m—medal?” Then, because he wasn’t sure what else to say, he added, “Which one?”
The Prism Master looked anno
yed by his cheerful disbelief, as though Asher’s success and joy was somehow uncomfortable to him.
“I’m not sure, though it would almost have to be the Medallion of Merit.”
The Medallion of Merit was generally awarded to mages who made a significant contribution to furthering the good of mankind, typically through groundbreaking discoveries in magic. The Council must believe that Asher’s find had wide-reaching potential for new spell discovery if they were even considering him for it.
“Wow…” he said dumbly. “Well, that’s neat. I never thought there’d be a medal in the offering…”
He would actually get to meet some of the most influential, powerful mages of their time during the presentation ceremony if that was the case, rather than hearing about them secondhand from Aleric. It was a real chance to raise his status in the magical world, which he didn’t realize meant so much to him until it seemed like a real possibility. It would be nice to know some of the same people his friend knew, so that he could actually contribute something to their conversations about them…
I’m getting ahead of myself. I haven’t won anything yet, and they’re not going to be enthusiastic about recognizing someone with my background, so it might not even happen.
“I see you’ve already got dreams of grandeur in your head,” Master Antwar interrupted his thoughts, still looking mildly displeased.
“It may surprise you to hear that I actually do have some aspirations in life, and that I enjoy research and hope to continue on with it,” Asher responded sardonically.
“Oh, I have always known you harbor ambitions. That was evident the day I first met you, when you were a ten-year old boy with a chip on your shoulder and a point to prove.”
Asher frowned at the evaluation and said, “Why does my success bother you so much? Not that I expected effusive praise from you, given that we’re not the best of friends, but I did expect something in the way of ‘good job.’ ”
The Prism Master was silent for a moment, but finally said, “I’ve never understood you, Asher. You refuse to bow to our authority, yet you strive to do well in your studies. You mock the establishment openly, yet you want to become a part of it. You are arrogant and obnoxious, yet you cede all the glory and leadership roles to your friends.
“There has never been a question that you are brilliant; you are. In some ways, you’re even smarter than I am, and I think you know that. I have no doubt that you are going to distinguish yourself as a mage, and that you will gain influence as your powers grow. What I am not sure of—what I’ve never been sure of—is what you will do with that power once you have it, and that uncertainty disturbs me. I can’t help but wonder, seeing this initial success of yours, if I am staring at the next great monster of our time, who will use his powers to bend the world to his will. And then I must wonder, perforce, am I going to go down in history as the man who taught you the trade, who enabled you on your path to success?”
Asher was absolutely stunned, the first time in a long time when words completely escaped him. He had never expected this kind of question of his motives or his character, even after everything else that had happened, because in his mind he always knew who he was and what he stood for. Seeing it from this perspective, hearing that his own mentor didn’t understand him well enough to say whether he’d be a contribution to magekind or a monster, wondering how many other Masters had the same reservations about him…it was alarming.
“So who are you, Asher Masters? Who are you planning to become when you make your inevitable entry into high society? Are you going to forget your roots, or embrace them? Help humanity or hurt it?”
Asher composed himself well enough to form a response.
“I’m…me. I do want to get out from the situation I’m in, relying on my father for every scrap of money I need, while he works for the school practically for free to pay my exorbitant tuition costs. I do want my opinions to be heard by the people that matter, because I’m arrogant and I think that my thoughts are valuable. I don’t want to rule the Council of Mages, or take over the world, or whatever other nefarious thing you are worried about me doing. I just want to make a life for myself doing what I love.”
He didn’t know if it was a good answer, or even a convincing one, and the Prism Master’s facial expression wasn’t giving anything away. Finally, his mentor said, “I suppose I have no choice but to believe you.” He exhaled heavily. “Well, then, for what it’s worth, good job on your discovery.”
And with that the Prism Master left him alone with his thoughts in the empty classroom.
It took Asher a week to shake the conversation from his mind and to focus properly on his classwork. His classes with Master Antwar now felt awkward, because for all the time the Master had been studying him and watching him, he had never really known what the man was looking for until now. It made it difficult to know how to act, and so he resolved to try and behave normally, though he wasn’t sure he was doing a good job of it, because Aleric asked him at one point why he was being so ‘weird’ during class.
Asher had shrugged it off and said, “Oh, I asked Antwar why he didn’t seem happy about my big discovery, and he apparently thinks there’s a chance I’ll turn into an egomaniacal monster who wreaks havoc upon all of mankind,” as though the entire thing was a joke.
His best friend had surprised him by becoming deadly serious and staring at him in horror, before shaking his head firmly and saying, “No. It won’t be you,” as though convincing himself of something.
“Whoa, calm down. I was making light of it, but I don’t really think I’m going to turn into a monster,” Asher insisted, wondering what was wrong with everyone these days.
“Sorry, I’ve been a little tense…the research isn’t going as well as I’d like,” Aleric admitted grimly. “I know you aren’t going to let your power run away with you,” he insisted belatedly, though Asher couldn’t help but note that he didn’t sound entirely certain.
Asher was in an arena team practice meeting when he finally got the news.
The four of them were sitting on down-stuffed cushions on the floor of the mastery-level common area, sampling a plate of flaky pastries from the snack table that lined one wall of the room, discussing tactics. Tricia always insisted on having a meeting the night before their next arena challenge, to review weapon inventories and discuss strategies to handle a variety of situations. Asher never knew whether the meetings did any good or not, but he supposed it was always prudent to make sure that Michael Warren hadn’t forgotten to buy more instruments before they reached the arena, and it made Trish feel better, so he didn’t mind.
“I hope it’s not dragons,” Michael piped up glumly, adding his thoughts to the speculations about their next arena. “I hate dragons; they’re huge and nearly impossible to kill.”
Only if you’re worthless with magic, Asher thought privately.
“We’ve gotten a lot of forest-based arenas recently,” Tricia observed. “They’re bound to switch things up on us soon. Thom was telling me about the volcano arena his group was recently sent to, and we’ve never done that one, so it could be coming up for us…”
“But not every group goes into every arena,” Asher replied, setting down a peach torte. “Besides, they usually don’t reuse the same arenas right after a different group got it, because they know we all talk about the arenas between groups and they don’t want anyone to be better-prepared than anyone else.”
“True,” Tricia conceded. “We haven’t had a good water-focused arena in a long time…so maybe this time they’ll dump us in a lake, or the sea or something.”
“Ick, I hope not,” Maralynn pouted. “I hate the water arenas, especially at night. It’s all dark and creepy, and you’re stuck trying to swim around monsters you can’t even properly see, wondering when they’re going to grab you and pull you under, or rip you in half.” She shuddered at the thought. “Besides, I hate getting soaked when I’m fully clothed.”
Asher raised an ey
ebrow and said, “If it bothers you that much, feel free to go into the next arena naked,” unable to resist the lure of teasing her.
Michael turned a bark of laughter into a snort, and Mara’s cheeks blushed prettily as she made a face at him and said, “Oh, you know what I meant!”
“Hey, you can’t blame me for trying.” Asher shrugged, earning a nod of approval from Michael and a scowl from Trish.
“Maybe they’ll go easy on us this time, with it being so close to summer break,” Maralynn opined hopefully, changing the subject deliberately and taking a delicate bite of a cream cheese-stuffed tart.
“There’s still a full month until break, and besides, I don’t think the Masters are going to take such a charitable view of things,” Tricia argued, looking frustrated by Maralynn’s airy optimism. “It’s not like it’s any harder to grade us on a difficult arena versus an easy one.”
“Well maybe they don’t want to deal with everyone going into traumatizing places that get them killed right before a holiday, because then they have to put up with everyone crying, fainting, or threatening to drop out of school,” Maralynn countered haughtily, rising to the challenge.
Trish glowered and said, “When has that ever bothered the Masters before? Some of them love watching us get knocked down a notch or two. You only want to pretend they’re going to go easy on us so that you can get out of preparing for the worst.”
Maralynn flushed hotly and said, “No, I don’t! You only want to plan for the worst all the time because you think everybody is out to get you! If you had more friends, you might be a little less paranoid.”
Asher said, “Hey, now…we’re all friends here,” trying to gently calm both girls down and wondering what had happened to even escalate things between them. Sometimes he thought women just liked to challenge each other for no good reason; yet another thing he knew he’d never properly understand about the opposite sex.
“Just because I don’t spend all my time trying to be the most popular girl in school instead of doing anything useful, doesn’t mean I don’t have any friends!” Trish snapped back, ignoring Asher.
