Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels
Page 319
“Tamara von Azure, of House Listoh,” replied Tamara evenly. Gilai’el thought she heard something unfamiliar in her Preceptor’s voice, and if she had not known better, she would have sworn it was fear.
The Librarian made another note in his ledger before turning to Arch Magos Zhivel, who nodded regally.
Then the Librarian turned to face the Orb of Reading and closed his eyes.
Gilai’el suddenly felt short of breath as the anxiety of the situation threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought to keep control over her breathing as she gripped the arms of the chair.
The Orb then flashed brightly enough to create a pulsating blind spot in the center of her vision, and had she not been gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, she would have reached up to cover her eyes.
It flashed again, and she was certain that it had flashed bright red as she turned her head slightly, squinting her eyes as she did so to avoid another giant blind spot in her field of view.
Then it flashed a third time, and she was certain that it was bright red, but she was unable to tell which specific hue.
But that was the last time the orb flashed, and when her vision had cleared Gilai’el saw the Librarian turn to Zhivel before saying, in that same official tone, “Scarlet, Grade Three.”
Gilai’el looked to her Matron, who nodded slowly with what was clearly a hint of disappointment in her eyes. “Scarlet, Grade Three,” she confirmed in her smooth, level voice.
The Librarian gestured for her to rise and Gilai’el did so, feeling numb as Tamara placed her arm around the young raven-haired girl’s shoulders. They walked from the Main Hall using a different corridor than the one they had used to enter, and Gilai’el could not accept what had just happened.
“There must be a mistake,” she said as soon as they had exited the Main Hall. “I cannot be a Grade Three,” she hissed as her Preceptor quickened her pace as they approached one of the stairwells leading up.
“The Orb does not make mistakes,” said Tamara in a tone which brooked no dispute.
“But Grade Three!?” she snapped as they ascended to the second level of the massive house. “My family has been sorcerers of the greatest ability for centuries!”
Tamara spun Gilai’el toward her quickly and locked her eyes with the younger woman’s. After a lengthy silence, the curly-haired Magos spoke in a low voice. “Your Aura and Grade have been determined,” she said flatly. “I had hoped for a higher result as well, but there are numerous options available to a Scarlet which can prove incredibly useful to The Guild.”
“Such as!?” the raven-haired girl snapped incredulously.
Tamara scolded her silently with her expression, and the younger woman wilted somewhat as tears welled in her eyes.
“Such as,” continued the Magos quietly, “illusion and concealment, which are essential weapons in any Great House’s arsenal. Scarlets have a natural affinity for such magics.”
Gilai’el could not believe her ears. She had seen her uncle summon thunderbolts from a previously cloudless sky, and hurl great balls of fire without flint or tinder. She would not be some petty eavesdropper who obscured light and sound to avoid detection!
But before she could protest further, Tamara pinched the younger woman’s shoulder and marched her back to her room. When they were there, the short Magos pushed Gilai’el stiffly inside the room.
“You are to remain here until the Reading is complete,” she instructed before closing the door. The echo of her Preceptor’s footsteps faded until eventually Gilai’el was left with only the sound of Heldryn’s snoring, who had already undergone the Reading the previous year.
She wanted to rebel and march back out into the hallway, but she knew it was pointless. Regardless of what happened with the other Students, her fate had been decided for her.
Gilai’el laid down in her bed on top of the covers and stared at the dark ceiling as she came to realize that her entire life had been decided for her, and she decided that she was through with other people determining the course of her life.
Her mind was hardening itself into something different as she came to understand how the Imperial City operated. If deception and subterfuge were to be her best weapons, then she knew it was time to learn how that particular game was played.
She fell asleep after a few hours, having never pulled the blankets over herself despite the evening chill.
* * *
The morning came, and when Gilai’el looked over to Bindila’s bed, she saw it was still empty. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, knowing she had gotten only a few hours of rest before the first rays of the sun had awoken her, as they usually did.
She heard Heldryn snoring, so Gilai’el decided it was time to go find out where her other roommate was.
The raven-haired girl went through the hallway toward the stairwell and descended two flights until she was at the ground floor. She made eye contact with a few Apprentices of House Listoh, whose rooms were located on the second level, Gilai’el thought she saw their expressions shift when they saw her, but she couldn’t tell why.
After walking toward her Preceptor’s office on the ground level, she saw the door was slightly ajar. She leaned down and listened as she heard a pair of voices she recognized, one of which was Tamara and the other was Rita, Bindila’s Preceptor.
“…price we pay, Rita. We do not gather these children with the intention of harming them,” said Tamara in a low voice.
“I know that,” replied Rita wearily. “I just feel responsible. If there were some way for me to have detected its presence earlier…”
“Rita,” said Tamara in her low, hushed voice, “the only responsibility you bear in her fate is bringing her before the Orb more quickly than she would have otherwise done. It is only because of that, which is a product of your diligence, that she might yet survive.”
Gilai’el’s heart sank as she concluded that they were speaking of her roommate Bindila, who was Rita’s lone Student this year. Something had happened to her friend, and there was a chance it would kill her!
“We both know the form that life may take,” snapped the normally reserved, calm Rita. There was a pause before she continued in a more measured, familiar tone. “I cannot absolve myself of responsibility in her fate, my friend.”
“That we bear the scars of such failings is part of what strengthens us,” replied Tamara in a more heartfelt tone than Gilai’el had ever heard from her normally strict Preceptor. “We would be little better than those with whom we contend if we did not.”
Gilai’el knew that her Preceptor would become angered at her presence, so she moved slowly back down the hall toward the stairwell. She arrived there only a few seconds before the door to Tamara’s office opened, and Rita came out, followed by the curly-haired Magos.
Gilai’el strode down the stairs, as though for the first time that morning, and walked purposefully toward the two women before a false look of recognition crossed her face.
“Magos Rita,” she said respectfully.
“Good morning, Gilai’el,” replied Rita with a warm smile. It was the kind of smile which Gilai’el and the other Students expected to receive from the normally cheerful Magos. “I hear congratulations are in order,” continued the thin woman with short, mousy blond hair. “Until now, there have been only three of us in House Listoh.”
Gilai’el had no idea what she meant, and at her obvious look of confusion, Tamara interrupted. “Rita is a Scarlet as well,” her Preceptor explained, “Grade Three, just like you.”
Rita nodded. “I hope we come to enjoy each other’s company,” she said with genuine feeling, “for I believe we shall be spending much of the next two years together, in preparation for your entry to the College.”
Gilai’el nodded hastily, and she realized she was relieved that Rita would serve as one of her Tutors, whose responsibility it was to acclimate the Students to the various types of magic which they will study at the Wizard’s College of the Great Tower.
Rita’s expression remained unchanged, but Tamara stepped forward. “There was an accident,” explained the curly-haired Magos, “and Bindila required immediate care, which will continue for several days before she can return to the Student’s Wing.”
Gilai’el knew there was more to it than that, but she nodded. “I hope she was not injured too greatly,” she said with genuine concern. Bindila was one of the only people Gilai’el actually liked in House Listoh.
“Have faith, Gilai’el,” replied Rita in a kind voice, “House Listoh possesses some of the finest healers in Veldyrian. Our Matron has decreed that every member of The Guild should receive the finest care we can provide, regardless of rank, in exchange for their continued loyalty and service to our House.”
Gilai’el nodded in understanding. “And House Listoh keeps her bargains,” replied the young girl, knowing the House creed was central to every aspect of life within these walls.
“Yes, Gilai’el,” replied the light-haired Magos, “we keep our bargains.” Rita’s expression shifted for the first time since Gilai’el had come down the stairs, and she turned to Tamara unexpectedly. “I shall see to my Student, Magos. I fear I must forgo our morning meal.”
“Of course, Rita,” Tamara replied.
“May I join you?” asked Gilai’el before she could think it through. “Bindila is my friend,” she added uncomfortably, “and I would like to think she feels the same. Perhaps she could do with a friendly face?”
Tamara shook her head adamantly. “I fear your own schedule is too full this morning,” she said pointedly.
Gilai’el felt the color drain from her face. She had completely forgotten about her presentation on the collected private works of Arch Magos Zinaida.
Tamara’s expression turned to a scolding one, a more familiar image to the young Student. “Your presentation is due at third bell,” she reminded coldly, “and it is already nearing second bell.”
“Perhaps you could postpone the presentation,” Rita suggested, apparently catching both Student and Preceptor by surprise. “Hers has been an eventful night, and the news regarding her roommate must surely weight heavily on her mind.”
Tamara looked back to Gilai’el, who knew there was no what she could collate her various quotes, come up with a sensible format for the ten-minute presentation, and get dressed in the amount of time she had.
“I suppose you are right,” replied the curly-haired Magos with a tilt of her heard toward Rita. “We can reschedule the presentation for tomorrow morning at first bell,” she said with an all-too-familiar glare at her young Student.
“Thank you, Magos!” gushed Gilai’el without realizing just how relieved she felt. She turned to Rita and repeated, “Thank you, Magos,” before turning back to the stairwell and racing up to her room, the fate of Bindila temporarily banished from her mind.
* * *
“You are too lenient with your Students, Rita,” said Tamara after the black-haired girl was out of earshot
“And you are too strict with yours,” countered the mousey-haired Magos. “As with all things in life, balance must be found and maintained.”
Tamara folded her arms emphatically. “I suppose that is why we are such close friends,” she quipped, “as separately, our actions would no doubt result in cataclysm, at least according to the other’s observations.”
Rita smiled thinly as she nodded her head. “I must see to my own Student now,” she said quietly.
Tamara’s expression became solemn. “I shall accompany you,” she said in what was clearly not an offer, but a statement of fact.
Rita shook her head as a tear rolled down her cheek. “No, my friend” she replied, “this is my own affair, and I must see it through as I agreed to do.”
Rita made her way to the Main Hall, and Tamara remained behind in the hallway for a long while before resuming her morning’s schedule.
* * *
Four days later, after Gilai’el had successfully delivered Arch Magos Zinaida’s collected anecdotes and observations for the consumption of a class a year her junior, her roommate had still not returned.
She was entering the Main Hall when she saw a black-bordered paper in the announcements case; the same case which had held the list of Students who had participated in the Reading.
A black-bordered paper meant one thing: a funeral. Someone in House Listoh had died, and not just anyone. Judging from the single, thin line bordering the paper, it was a Student.
Gilai’el approached the case, and her hand went to her mouth in shock as soon as she came to the portion of the announcement bearing the name of the deceased:
It is with a heavy heart that I, Arch Magos Zhivel ‘Ivory’ Listoh, regretfully inform you that one of our daughters has fallen. Bindila was a student, a friend and a devoted sister of our family who gave all she had in service to her sisters and brothers. We must honor her sacrifice, as well as celebrate her memory.
I therefore decree that today shall be a day of mourning in her honor. Classes, research and all other daily activities including meals shall be suspended until our beloved Bindila is laid to rest.
The ceremony will begin at dusk, and all members of House Listoh are to attend. Let not our hearts be overburdened with sorrow, but let us renew our bonds of love with one another as we pay tribute to those who have gone before us, that we might better serve our fellows and, indeed, our most sacred Empire.
Arch Magos Zhivel ‘Ivory’ Listoh
Gilai’el collapsed to the floor beneath the announcement board in tears, as she loudly mourned the passing of the only person she truly considered a friend in the entire world.
5
First Day of School
Two years had passed since Bindila’s death. The funeral had been uneventful, to Gilai’el’s mind. The Matron of House Listoh had spoken of the need for unity in the face of that which threatened to undermine their loyalty to each other, but in truth, the teenage girl had not been paying much attention.
Her lessons had passed as well, with her instruction in the specific arts which she would study more extensively at the Wizard’s College coming at the hands of three women: Magos Tamara von Azure, Magos Rita von Crimson and lastly, in what was something of a surprise to the young Student, Arch Magos Zhivel von Ivory.
In truth, her study sessions had been far less instructive than she had expected, revolving almost entirely around historical study and basic magical theory, including glyph recognition and aura compatibilities. She could not help but feel disappointed with her private lessons to this point, as she felt these lessons were well beneath her own abilities.
Arch Magos Zhivel’s lessons had been few and far between, but together with Magos Rita and Magos Tamara, the women had prepared young Gilai’el for her enrollment in the College. That day had finally arrived, when she was to remove her House Listoh Student robes in favor of simple, brown clothes and board the skimmer which would take her and the other sixteen hopefuls of her class to the Wizard’s College.
There was no farewell ceremony for the thirteen girls and three boys who joined Gilai’el in boarding the hovering craft which the raven-haired fifteen-year-old had thought of as an ‘air boat’ when she had first seen one six years earlier.
As she stepped out the gates of House Listoh for the first time since arriving in Veldyrian as a nine-year-old girl, she looked back at the walkway, and the statues lining it. There were a pair of empty bases prepared for what were certain to be new additions to House Listoh’s ‘Guardians of The Path,’ as they were known, but what Gilai’el looked for were the eyes of her Preceptor, which she found on the lowest balcony-like walkway near the main door.
Tamara’s face was unreadable at this distance, so Gilai’el turned and walked up the ramp of the skimmer, which raised behind her since she was the final member of House Listoh to board
the craft.
The craft spun gently on its center and made for the same intersection down which the bald man had disappeared six years earlier, and Gilai’el once again felt a knot of anger in her belly as the craft turned the same direction as his had done.
But that anger was quickly replaced by trepidation as the skimmer flew down the wide, perfectly-maintained roadway, heading directly toward the Great Tower.
Before they arrived at the base of the impossibly massive, incredible monument to the might of Veldyrian, Gilai’el noticed that this skimmer looked different than the others she had seen outside the Main Gate to Listoh Estate. This particular skimmer was outfitted with a quartet of what looked to be short, metal barrels, which were secured with rivets and straps of iron to the hull of the craft.
Not only was the craft different, but this skimmer was manned exclusively by six men with impossibly black skins, wearing bone-white armor with a stylized ‘V’ in the shape of a half-open book emblazoned on their chests: the symbol of the Imperial Archives, of which the Wizard’s College was a part if Gilai’el understood the organizations correctly.
As the craft approached the Great Tower’s warped, vaguely pentagonal shape, the craft’s nose pulled up gently until their angle pointed the craft to one of the Great Tower’s upper sections, which was itself a curved, bent column with a perfectly flat top — whose top was nearly a mile above the ground.
There was a chorus of gasps from the other Students, but Gilai’el was too focused on what they approached to be concerned with the workings of the skimmer-turned-airship. She knew that High Wizards — even mere Students like themselves — were the most prized commodity in the Empire, and the Imperial Archives would do everything necessary to safeguard their safety.