The blonde woman rolled her eyes and looked annoyed.
“It's alright, young man. It's very clear you can see the spirits we possess, just as we can see yours. It is only natural. I am Master Wizard Lether Rema. Master of the Apprentices Tower here at the Academy of Vallad,” the Master Wizard said in a kind tone.
All the stories he'd heard about Wizards came flooding into his mind. “Soul stealers,” he whispered. They would take the souls of people and use them to make their Magiks.
The blonde woman covered her mouth with her hand and started laughing quietly.
Master Rema's voice changed to a stern tone, “Do not quote uneducated superstition as fact, young man!”
“Sorry, Milord!” Thorel apologized instantly. The whip tone of the Master snapped him out of his mental conundrum. “What's wrong with me, Milord?”
“There is nothing wrong with you, young man. When did you first see that spirit beside you?” Rema asked patiently.
Thorel was pretty sure that a Master Wizard and the Noblewoman he was addressing as “Milady” outranked his mother a good deal now that his senses were returning. He could refuse to answer them, but his mother had taught him that it was proper to obey those of greater rank and status.
He knew in his heart that was just an excuse though: he needed to talk about what he saw to someone, anyone. Especially now, with all of these apparitions before him.
“I was six, Milord. My father came to me then. He was killed that day, but I've been able to see him ever since,” Thorel said.
“That means you have a great deal of potential, young man. You see, the younger one is when they can perceive spirits, less power is used to create an effect from them,” Rema said. “It is calculated by age backward from sixteen years old, as none have developed the sight later than that for purposes of comparison. However, few have developed it before five, and only one has ever developed it at three years of age,” he lectured steadily.
The tall blond woman said, “Master if you please,” in a suffering tone.
“You mean I'm a Wizard?” Thorel asked with astonished eyes.
“Not even close,” the Noblewoman snapped, meeting his eyes with steel in hers.
“But you could be, young man. You certainly do have the ability. If your sight age is six, you may be able to complete the training, given time and means. What is your name?” the Master asked.
“Thorel Tangarth, Milord,” he said with respect.
“Milady, please forgive me, I have been rude; this is the Great Lady Ari Dothranan, Mistress of the Great House Dothranan,” he said bowing his head to her.
The woman stepped forward. “I wanted to see if you would bargain for the spirit that has attached itself to you, but then you fell. You were unconscious, but I could feel your ability. So I had you brought here to the Tower,” Ari said.
“Thank you, Milady,” Thorel said with a deep bow. He remembered Master Stiral's lesson well enough. A Great House was only two steps removed from the Kings throne, with the High Nobility between them.
“You wished to bargain for my father's soul, Milady?” He recoiled at that realization.
“No, I wished to bargain for his spirit. The soul only exists when the mind, body and spirit are one. When one is removed, the soul is gone,” Ari said firmly.
The Master nodded. “Spirits are what remain of emotions felt during life. They represent strong feelings, both good and bad. If the emotion is not directed towards a living person, they leave to go to the Lunar barrier,” he said in a well-practiced monotone.
“It is believed they go there, Master,” Ari corrected him. “There are still holes in that theory I could ride my carriage through.”
“You have yet to explain why talismans will only charge under moonlight though, my most astute student,” he pointed out patiently.
“I have had some thoughts on that, Master..,” and the conversation turned into a jumble of numbers, formulas and theorems that sounded like an alien tongue to him.
After a few moments, the Master held his hand up and said “Can this can wait for now, Milady?” Looking with sympathy at Thorel's lost countenance.
She looked at Thorel, then nodded in irritable acquiescence. “Of course, Master.”
“You mean you aren't going to try to steal his spirit?” He asked, remembering the dark tales his mother told him.
“Oh no, young man. If someone with the sight is found to be stealing spirits from people, they will be hunted down by the Wizard's Council and put to death,” Master Rema said gravely.
That was something Thorel had never heard or read. But he felt confident a Master Wizard could speak on this with authority. “Now what do I do, Milady, Milord?” Thorel asked, less nervous than he was.
“Well, young man, if you have a second gold crown, you could enroll in the Wizards curriculum.”
“I don't have enough, and I'm not sure I'd even want to,” Thorel answered honestly.
“Master, I can deal with this if you like. I'm certain you have much to see to with the beginning of a new semester,” Ari said coolly.
“You are right about that, Milady, to be sure. I have every confidence in your ability to answer his questions,” he said with a smile to her. “It was nice to meet you, young man, I hope to see you in this tower again,” Master Rema said with a nod as he left.
Looking at the spirits attached to the Great Lady disturbed him a lot. But Ari herself was tall and beautiful. She was the only woman he had ever seen he didn't have to look down to meet her eyes. “If you don't want to become a Wizard, I will give you a gold crown for that spirit,” Lady Dothranan said seriously, producing the heavy coin from her pocket.
That was equal to one hundred gold coins Thorel knew, but he couldn't sell his father's spirit, not ever. Not even if it wasn't his soul, it was still a part of him. The only part Thorel had. “No Milady, I won't sell him. Not at any price.”
“Then I will make you another offer,” Ari said, sliding the coin into her pocket. “House Dothranan is in need of Wizards. If you swear fealty to me and my house, I will pay for your schooling. All of it, so long as you do well in your classes.”
“What would I have to do, Milady?” He asked.
“Swear an oath to protect our people, hold, and our honor, and do what I or anyone with authority over you tells you to,” she said blandly. “For that, you would be given room and board, as well as clothing from our stores and arms to defend yourself and my Hold. And many other things.”
“That sounds like a lot would be expected of me,” Thorel didn't mind hard work. In fact, it was strange to not have chores to do. But he was wary, he knew so little of this woman or the ways of nobles.
“Yes, but when you gain your staff and are a Wizard, only those who spoke my commands would have authority over you besides me. You would have a true rank, and no longer be common. Do you want to be subject to the whim of others? Rank is freedom. Without it, you are nothing,” she said with feeling.
Thorel had never even considered such a thing. He'd grown up doing as he was told for the most part and was disciplined by Korin if he didn't. “I never thought about it, Milady,” he said truthfully.
She nodded with understanding. “Of course. I will give you time to consider. Do not take too long though. It will be impossible to catch up with the classes if they go too far.”
“Milady, I was hurt, wasn't I?” He felt the crusted blood in his hair on the back of his head.
“Yes, but you healed yourself somehow. I couldn't see you doing it which is why we are even having this discussion,” she said, looking at him sternly.
“Before I woke, the little lamb that had died at my guardian's farm was nuzzling my head, could that be it?” He asked.
“How could it be? Dreams are simply your mind trying to make sense of its difficulties. Your mind may have used that to make sense of your power since you don't understand it,” she said sharply.
“Don't you see her, too? She's right there,
Milady,” pointing to the lamb's apparition. “Along with all the others,” gesturing around him. There was a surly old tom cat from Korin's barn lay curled on the table between them. The brown bear that had treed him twice, three of the hunting dogs that Korin had raised as well as the other animal spirits were his constant companions were in the room as well.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You are touched! Everyone knows animals don't have spirits!” She said with a mocking laugh.
“You can't see them, Milady?” He asked thoughtfully.
“Of course I can't. They aren't there,” she said mockingly. “I retract my off..,” she started, but Thorel cut in.
“Milady, if you can't see them, wouldn't that be why you couldn't see my healing?”
She looked at him seriously. He could see power flow through her from one of her spirits and touch him. She walked around the table and looked into his eyes. They were beautiful blue eyes, which seemed to look inside of him.
“You have a quick wit, and you believe what you are saying,” she said after a moment. “Very well, it is not as if the Master believes what I tell him either. My offer stands.”
“What do you mean, Milady?” He asked.
She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then turned her eyes to the floor. “I will share this with you, as you have shared your strangeness. I have tried to tell Master Rema many times, and other Masters as well, but none of them have believed me.”
“The age I saw my first spirit was not three, as they say,” she said, looking into his eyes.
He realized with surprise that she was the one the Master had mentioned. “Then when was it, Milady?”
Ari turned to look at the beautiful woman's spirit and touched her with a finger.
“She is my first memory.”
* * *
Thorel thought his mind was full before, but now it was simply swimming with more questions than ever. The sun had moved little. He looked at the clock tower and saw that barely an hour had passed since Stiral's lesson. He walked away from the black stone walls of the Apprentice's Tower lost in thought.
Thorel had never imagined he would be of interest to any Noble until he'd finished his schooling. He had intended to study clockworks when he'd been given the choice in the second semester, but Wizardry? That baffled his mind, and it seemed the stories he'd heard from his Mother were just superstitions.
When he'd asked Korin about Wizards when he was little, he'd replied, “I met some while I was in the Legion. Strange people, but they served the Crown and did their duty as well as any soldier. I treated them with respect, and they treated me the same way.”
“Do they really steal souls?” Young Thorel asked with a shiver.
“I don't think so. If you want to know, you should ask one,” he said around his pipe.
“I'd be too scared to, sir,” he said.
“Then you'll never know, boy. Off with you now,” Korin said without malice.
Nigel ran to him from a tall tree he'd been leaning on. “Are you ok, man? What did they do to you? Is your soul still in there?” He tried to look into Thorel's eyes on the tips of his toes.
“What? Yes, I'm fine, sort of,” Thorel said honestly.
“What did they do to you?” Nigel asked with concern.
“Nothing, they just talked to me.”
“About what?” Nigel asked. “I couldn't do anything. That noble woman tossed me like a stone and ordered the Academy guard away. She had her guards take you to the Tower. I followed them and waited for you to come out.”
“Thanks man,” he said seriously and nearly crushed Nigel with his arm around his shoulders.
“OOF!” Came out of Nigel with a rush of breath.
“Sorry Nigel,” he said with a genuine smile. He appreciated now more than ever this man's presence. That simple gesture of waiting for him to ensure his safety made him feel a lot less confused and lonely. By the spirits, he wished he could talk to Korin right now, but he was certainly on his way home already.
Thorel realized who could answer his questions. “Come with me,” Thorel said quickening his step.
“What did they say?” Nigel asked, scrambling to keep up with Thorel's long stride.
“I don't want to tell this twice, once will be hard enough,” Thorel said seriously.
“Where are we going?” Nigel asked.
“Master Stiral. He'll be able to answer my questions,” Thorel replied.
“He doesn't like me,” Nigel said dejectedly.
“Be quiet and respectful, man, you'll be fine,” Thorel said.
“That's no fun,” Nigel said dourly.
Thorel laughed heartily at that, feeling a lot better than he had a moment ago.
* * *
They arrived at Headmaster Stiral's office and heard the telltale smacks of a punishment in progress.
“I'm Thorel Tangarth, sir. I'd like to speak to the Headmaster, please.”
“AAAAHHHHHH!!!!” They heard in time with the paddling.
“The Headmaster's not to be disturbed right now, student. I can give him a message, or you can wait,” the guard replied.
“We'll wait then, sir,” Thorel said with a wince at the cries.
“Alright then,” the guard nodded.
Thorel and Nigel stepped off the porch and went to a tree a few yards away.
The other guard said in a low tone that carried enough. “Bet you a silver Hilde breaks that girl's ass, and she has to go to the infirmary.”
The older guard looked at him. “You're on. I'll buy you a drink for your generosity,” he said with confidence.
“That's what the bitch gets for mocking the old man.”
The elder guard chuckled, “Before you were here a few years ago, he had her give a man ten lashes while strapped to the clock tower. He even called a full assembly. She cracked one of the poor bastard's ribs!”
The younger guard's eyes widened, “What the hell did he do?”
Thorel and Nigel were so intent on the guards' conversation; they didn't even notice the punishment had ended.
The door flew open, and Eliel walked out and turned around stiffly. She bowed herself at the waist and said loudly, “Milord, ma'am, I will tell my mother I have found one who can best her discipline.”
She closed the door, stepped off the porch, and sank to her knees placing her cheek and shoulder on the paving stones.
“My ass!!” She hissed painfully.
Nigel was working hard to contain his amusement.
Thorel stepped to her and knelt, asking “Are you ok?”
She turned her head to look up at him. “Oh yes, I'm fine. I just coughed up two gold coins to keep from getting expelled and got my ass broken by a bitch with a cock like your leg.”
Nigel and the guards burst out laughing simultaneously.
Thorel couldn't help a broad smile, even though it was the second most vulgar thing he had ever heard. The first she'd said earlier.
“You're a big, beautiful man,” she pushed herself up and latched onto Thorel's waist. “My ass is broken. Carry me home, please?” He couldn't refuse the woman, even though he knew it was her fault. He picked her up gently and she snuggled into his chest.
He adjusted her weight and said: “Fine. Where?”
“Anywhere with a standing bar. I'll buy you a drink. Or two,” she murmured.
“That's not your home,” Thorel looked at her suspiciously.
“I'm gonna need a few drinks to sleep with my broken ass.” She looked into his eyes pleadingly.
Nigel said, “I could use a drink.”
“Buy your own, little man,” she snapped curtly.
“If you want me to carry you there, you are going to have to treat Nigel, too,” Thorel said.
“Oh seriously? You like boys?” She started squirming in his arms.
“No, no I don't I..,” Thorel protested while trying not to let her fall.
“I'll buy my own,” Nigel said with a smile. “Eliel, he never even
heard of that before I told him.”
She stopped squirming and resumed cuddling. “Good. It would have been horrible if the man of my dreams liked boys,” she said looking into his eyes.
Thorel looked into those big green eyes and said, “You know these places, don't you, Nigel?”
“A standing bar? I think I can manage,” he said with confidence. “I'm pretty sure we have to leave the Academy for that though,” he turned around and started walking.
“How are you going to buy drinks, man? You have more coin!” Thorel exclaimed in realization.
“It was kind of hard to say with that bloody brute bitch squishing me. I was trying, believe me! I'll have just enough to get me through till my next stipend if I buy a round,” Nigel said.
“Very well,” Thorel said eyeing Nigel suspiciously. Eliel giggled.
* * *
Thorel was irritated. He had been coerced into waiting for the answers he desperately needed. Now he sat in a smoky, noisy bar across from Nigel with Eliel standing beside the table.
She tilted the two-hand tall tankard back and consumed the whole thing with one long steady pull.
Nigel's eyes widened when she put it on the table empty.
She caught a barmaid by the waist and whispered quietly to her. She slipped her some coin and came away with her tray with five tankards on it. She set it down on the well-used wooden table placing a drink in front of each of them, even though Thorel had not yet finished his first.
Nigel said, “Thank you, ma'am!” with a cheerful nod.
“You're welcome, little man. Why are you looking so sad there?” Eliel asked Thorel. “You're the best looking man in the room, with the prettiest girl in the bar buyin' you drinks. Most men only dream of such things.” She took a pull on her fresh tankard and eyed him seriously.
“What the hell happened in the tower, Thorel?” Nigel asked.
“What tower?” Eliel asked, eyeing Nigel.
“The Apprentices’ Tower! After the guards hauled you off, he started screaming like mad, and then he fell and hit his head. This noble bitch came up behind me and tossed me away from him, then took him there,” he said seriously pulling on his tankard.
Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1) Page 7
