“The Conjuring Arts has several applications and unfortunately, we have neither the time nor the patience to train you in all of them. That’s why one of your tasks is to read Rummbold Fagraz’s book and Elgahar’s essays at your own pace, always bearing in mind that you won’t be a mage but a Fark-Amon.
“For that, you need to search in your inner depths and learn to control your ‘mind’s eye’, a kind of guide in your head where all the images and conscious thoughts take shape when you close your eyes. When you gain control of this mental ability, you’ll go on to learn to manipulate its various finger-like tentacles that you’ll be able to aim just as you would a spear or an arrow. You can decide whether these fingers are spread out and focused on a whole range of small things or concentrated on a single point.”
Lombardo, wearing his tanned leather armor and with his sword locked away in his room, was standing in front of Sendar. He was at least a head and half taller than the mage. The great soldier’s gaze was grim, but without the internal fire of a student eager to learn. Sendar knew that this fire would be ignited as soon as Lombardo broke the first barrier of learning to make himself into a Fark-Amon. The first barrier was the hardest one to overcome and was the one that required the greatest effort.
“This means,” Sendar went on, “that your first task will be to master your mind’s eye. It sounds difficult and it is. Elgahar was the first mage in four centuries to describe this process, you know? This man is a complete prodigy. Before Elgahar described it, the training of mages lasted decades and that was because nobody had realized that in to control the matter outside your mind, you first have to understand your mind, the thing that’s going to control those elements. That makes sense, doesn’t it?
“It’s simple because it’s been described and proven scientifically again and again. But not all living creatures are capable of mastering their mind’s eye, even though all living beings have one. It’s as if our mind’s eye was an alien part of our soul we never knew existed. If we’d known that, after decades of training, the mages were failing because they weren’t learning to control their mind’s eye, then I believe their lives would have been easier if we could have told them that. They failed because they couldn’t control the essential element in the creation of spells.”
The old man in the blue toga smiled kindly, but behind those eyes was no soft soul but an ironmaster who took no pity on weakness.
“The exercise begins now,” he said. “You have until sundown to succeed. If you fail, that’s that and you won’t become a Fark-Amon. There’s no time to lose. We do not have many days left before Armageddon and if you’re not ready by then, you’ll never be. Off you go.”
Sendar could be kind and smiling but when he wanted to be, he was deeply serious and his voice was like a whip.
“Sendar. Sendar! Wait! How the hell do I begin? What do I do?”
“Figure it out,” the mage replied and left the room.
“Figure it out? Shit.”
***
Cail came to the same conclusion as the other thieves who were being trained to become assassins of assassins: they had mastered the first step in the creation of spells, or were fairly advanced, thanks to the Baron’s teachings.
Without being aware of it, the thieves had been learning to control their mind’s eye in the Dungeon of Thieves from a very early age. Cail had always wondered why some youngsters were excluded from the Dungeon and now he realized it had been because they were unable to learn this form of control. The reason was so easy and their training had been so complicated that nobody had noticed that this simple step was necessary for someone to become a skilled thief.
It was not a matter of chance, because now Cail understood that those who had learned to control their mind’s eye had learned to control their body and had enormously increased their stealth when they were out thieving.
“To become an assassin of assassins,” Lenga was explaining. “You have to learn many spells that don’t require you to generate energy or produce something out of nothing. Unlike mages, the spells you’ll be creating will be directed to control the sounds, movements, and both the speed and strength of your body. You will also learn the ability to detect danger as if you had eyes on the back of your head.”
Lenga was a supreme thief whose role had always been to be an assassin of assassins. Nobody had known about her for obvious reasons; she was the Baron’s secret. She was a natural teacher. She could communicate efficiently and as far as Cail was concerned, her words made so much sense that applying the principles she explained was easy.
“Because of constraints of time, and because of their simplicity, you’ll learn three spells before the Faceless Baron sends you out on a mission of reconnaissance and destruction. The first one will be Feather Step, the ability to silence your steps so that not even the most alert cat would be able to hear you. The second one is Subliminal Consciousness which will grant you acute and omniscient perception when it comes to detecting danger and avoiding it. The third and most important one is Yagartikai, an old name for rapid movement and will allow you, just for a few seconds, to move at enormous speed, massively increasing your strength at the same time. This spell is the one that comes dearest, the one that consumes the most energy, and the one that will save your life amid a conflict when you find yourself trapped among a group of enemies or facing someone who is simply too much for you.”
Lenga looked at the students, all thieves hardened by experience. “We’ll start with Feather Step. Most of you have already learned it.”
“Are we going to go over all of that again?” asked a girl thief.
“We have a new member, Cail, and he needs to learn the basics as soon as possible. What better way than by watching his peers as an example to follow? Off we go, then. In any case, it’s never a waste of time to go over what you’ve learned.”
***
After a few minutes of being by himself in a bare, simple room, Lombardo’s mind began to become restless. If he was not thinking about his child’s future, he was considering the effects of the great war that was looming.
He opened his eyes every time a noise caught his attention. Sometimes, he grew bored and felt as if he had to scan his surroundings to keep himself entertained. He had not been in the room more than a quarter of an hour and already, he was growing impatient.
First of all, he had no idea what the hell Sendar had been talking about when he had talked about the mind’s eye having fingers or tentacles. Secondly, he had no idea that his mind had an eye. And thirdly, he did not know that he could control that eye and direct its apparent tentacles.
He imagined it in several different ways, sometimes feeling as if he had an octopus or a spider inside his head that could control his attention, but these images were no use and only distracted him.
Isolating sounds was the hardest thing. He had always been a man who made a point of listening and keeping wary. Being aware of the sounds around him had saved his skin more than once. He learned to ignore sound for the first time in his life. There is nothing that the will cannot manage and he was a man whose will was as strong as a spear. Aiming carefully, he launched it as if it were a missile…
In his mind, the fact that he had thought of it as behaving like a spear made as little sense as thinking of it like fingers. When he focused his mind, he imagined aiming that spear at a variety of things. For example, he deliberately aimed the spear to eliminate sounds. Now, he no longer heard them. Enthusiastically, he aimed his spear at not seeing anything and he stopped seeing.
He found himself in a dark place, too dark for his taste. However, he felt comfortable and at ease. He knew he had control over this place he had never inhabited because, in essence, it was within himself. Could this be the mind’s eye?
The hours went by and he was still lost within himself in a lightless labyrinth that he had not managed to evade. The shadows lengthened and the sun began to go down.
After a few hours, he had to sit down. His
legs were burning and twice, he almost fell forward. He imagined himself with his legs crossed. In his mind’s eye, there appeared an image of himself sitting on the floor as if he were out of his body and able to study himself. Wait a minute. Was he seeing himself with his mind’s eye?
He moved the spear of his will and verified that he could manipulate the place where he was deliberately imagining things. He began to throw the gaze of his mind’s eye further afield and verified that he could feel energy around him. Had he managed to master his mind’s eye? Or was all this part of his imagination?
He heard Sendar’s voice. Excellent work.
What the—Are you speaking in my mind?
That’s it exactly! You’re in your mind’s eye, Lombardo, and you’ve managed to control its energy. You realize it works like an arrow and that you can send that energy outwards. I don’t intend you to send your energy to other minds because learning that takes months, even years. But you’ll be able to catch the energy of others, just like I did with you. This is what we call a link.
Have you noticed how easily I entered your mind? This is how you’ll be able to infiltrate the enemy’s consciousness. This is how Elgahar has managed to decipher his opponents’ spells. If I were someone who wanted to harm you, I could kill you here and now. My own will has been trained for years and I’m capable of delivering a great deal of energy through it. Just as I could take your life, I can also give you energy.
Good. The time has come to start your training in how to protect yourself from dangerous minds that will try to infiltrate your mind’s eye to harm you. Go and rest. Tomorrow, you’ll be starting to create links with other mages so that you can practice wielding your sword with additional energy.
Sendar’s presence vanished from Lombardo’s mind’s eye. He opened his eyes with a sigh as if emerging from a deep trance. He was still alone in the room. It was nighttime. He had not even noticed when the sun had set. His stomach rumbled and he knew that he needed to eat something before he went back to his room.
***
Cail had already mastered Feather Step. Like Turi the Crafty with his cat-like nature, he had found it out by himself and was now trying to improve his technique to become completely inaudible to his enemy’s ears.
Developing Sublimical Consciousness, a simple spell in theory but a difficult one in practice, was something Cail had never concerned himself with. He might have opened his ears and listened or even made the attempt to perceive his surroundings but to create that kind of spell you first had to place yourself in your mind’s eye. Once there, instead of concentrating that force into, say, transforming matter, those fingers had to spread themselves around you to “feel”. It worked wonderfully in a silent and desolate place, but the true skill involved learning how to perceive your surroundings in battle.
“The group will clash swords and scream as if we were at war. One by one, you’ll be at the center and open your mind’s senses to perceive the danger around you and detect when danger is threatening. Off you go.”
The most advanced students had already mastered the spell, so they did not practice on this occasion, but concentrated on making a noise. The clash of metal against metal filled the practice hall. Cail was one of the noise-makers. Noela was the first to try the exercise and while she was standing in the epicenter of the faux battle, her face twisted in frustration. From a corner, Lenga threw a small pebble at her head. Noela took it without any effect but it was clear that she had not been able to perceive any danger.
“On we go. Once again.”
The exercise went on until the least experienced had mastered it, or at least tried to.
“Time to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll try again and then we’ll progress to begin practice on Yagartikai. The spell of omniscience is one of the most important ones.”
***
The soldier was striking out with his eyes blindfolded. Sendar had assigned to Uroquiel the task of creating a link with Lombardo. Not only was he one of the most advanced mages, but he was also one of the most powerful.
“Again!” Lombardo shouted. Sendar explained that it would be easier to enter his mind’s eye with his eyes covered. He had managed to create a link with Uroquiel but it was the mage who, until now, had been unable to transfer the energy. Lombardo was tiring, his muscles exhausted after wielding his sword and slashing at the poor tree in front of him.
“Once more,” Uroquiel said.
“That’s it! I think I’ve got it.”
“If you say so.”
Lombardo stood up straight. He threw his mind and created the link with Uroquiel. He still found it hard to maintain his focus when his mind was linked to another.
He attacked. Suddenly, he felt an infusion of energy that, from one instant to the next, increased his strength enormously and speeded up his movements. He felt euphoric, as though he had smoked some kind of stimulant.
“It worked! Come on! Again!”
This time Uroquiel put everything he had into the task. The mage was concentrating, using the strength of his mind to apply his powers while Lombardo was receiving them greedily with anticipation, like a substance addict who knows his longed-for reward is on its way. Without his noticing, his sword began to shine sky-blue, energy shimmering at its edge as though it were in a cauldron of sky-blue fire. His blows came hard and fast and he did not stop. With one mighty blow, the sword cut the log cleanly as if it were butter, slicing the trunk in half.
“Look out!” Uroquiel shouted. Lombardo jumped just in time to get out of the way of the tree as it fell.
He took off the blindfold and cheered, hugging the mage as if they had found a treasure. Uroquiel was pale, while he felt euphoric.
“Enough for now. Lombardo,” Sendar said. “Come with me. Uroquiel, you go rest. We’ll continue the exercise in a little while.”
Lombardo was led to a small room where he sat down at a table facing Sendar. The old man looked concerned, something that, in the short time he had known him, Lombardo had never seen before.
“Fark-Amon train from the age of seven. They spend several years studying philosophy and controlling their minds to create harmony. For many years, they only concern themselves with the theory, long before they wield a sword and learn to cast a spell. There are very good reasons for this. The greedy desire you felt for the power infused in you has corrupted souls that were not properly prepared. It doesn’t matter how good a man you may think you are, because the euphoria you felt is capable of leading souls astray down a dark path in search of power.
“You feel lust to taste that energy again. But I beg you, Lombardo, to learn to control that emotion with all your energies. I know it’s difficult, particularly when you begin to receive that power. The infusions will go on day and night, and nearly all the mages will be able to create a link with you.
“Death has taken so many Fark-Amon when greed impelled them to yearn for more and more power. I know this from Strangelus, who told me about the death of legendary warriors when he trained them in Omen. The mind has its limits and sometimes it gets overwhelmed and explodes. To avoid exploding into fragments of flesh, Lombardo, you must learn to control how much energy you accept.”
Sendar’s gaze stopped drilling into Lombardo’s mind when he saw his pupil’s gaze softening. He sighed, relieved that he had been able to calm him. This might have gone very wrong. Power is a drug that, in excess, has killed too many.
“Imagine that your mind can decide how much energy it will accept from a link,” Sendar said. “Imagine you can receive a little or a lot of energy, depending on the circumstances. Your mind must learn to recognize when too much is too much and when a little is enough. There’ll be circumstances in which you won’t need the energy of the mages.”
Lombardo was silent for several minutes. Sendar scrutinized him, trying to work out what the hell was going on in his mind and whether he had spoiled the poor man by exposing him unnecessarily to so much power.
Lombardo began to laugh, then he we
pt. It was a reaction Sendar was not expecting. He seemed to have lost his wits.
“I don’t want to be greedy, never have been, but you’re right, master. That greed is powerful and I felt it starting to take me over. It’s exactly like lust, like I needed to feel it again… like a drug. But I won’t allow it. By my unborn child, I won’t allow it! Here we go!”
The big man got to his feet, grasped his sword and went on practicing. Sendar was breathless, thinking he was going to be cut in two. Then, he realized that Lombardo’s benevolent energy had taken control of that large body and was calmer.
***
“The students maintain their learning and science advances,” the Baron said from the shadows. “The mages grow stronger, our Fark-Amon is filled with vigor, and the assassins of assassins are getting ready for their first mission. I conclude that Maggrath is a success.”
Sendar was sitting at the round table with a candle in the center that created a bubble of light around it. Nothing could be seen beyond the edge of the light. There were several spells in this room, all put in place to inhibit any possible spells that a mage like Sendar might cast to come closer to the Baron.
“Lombardo has turned into a formidable warrior. He’s not exactly a Fark-Amon, but he makes up for it with his strength of will. I know he’ll defend the mages as he’s required to. Lenga and her thieves are ready, Baron. At a word from you, they’ll set out on their first mission.”
Sendar’s gaze searched the shadows in search of traces of movement or a silhouette. Nothing. There was no sign of the Baron. Although he had held these meetings over so many years, he had never stopped feeling curious about who the Baron was and what he looked like. He knew he would never find out, but curiosity has a will of its own.
“Let them leave tonight on their first mission,” the Baron said. “They’re ready. Lenga’s already been waiting for this moment for weeks.”
Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale) Page 43
