Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1)

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Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1) Page 36

by Richard Cluff


  He did run into Eliel's mother and brother though after parting ways with Nigel. They had also attended the execution. It still disturbed him greatly to see Eliel's spirit attached to Jax, but he was able to deal with it much more easily today than he had yesterday.

  Jax was a feisty young man, much like Eliel had been. He told Thorel with a seriousness that belied his sixteen years, that he was going to join the Legion. He seemed determined to keep this from happening to other families, and he would be able to help bring justice when he could do nothing to prevent it. That wasn't exactly how he'd said it, as the young man had a tongue coarse enough to test his sister's easily. But his point was well made.

  He'd asked her mother if there was going to be a memorial service. She said no... they charge too much to incinerate the body and release the ashes. She told him it was a silver mark to have them released. With the pile of coin he now had, he gave it to her to get it done. The woman teared, and hugged him. She told him to meet her tomorrow afternoon at the South Gate. Jax shook his hand firmly and told him if he ever needed a hand to come find him.

  That made Thorel smile. Even faced with Eliel's spirit, the young man's sincerity warmed his heart.

  He didn't see Ari until later though. They spoke with the mind touch. She had a few meetings tonight, and one of them was unexpected so she was doing it with dinner. She did tell him that she would make her father's old study available to him for his academic studies though.

  He was in the study with a nice thick rug covering the wooden floor and a window overlooking the Hold though. The view was breathtaking, the window faced to the north, and he could see Central Vallad from here. It dizzied him looking out of it though. Of course, the room was on the forty-second floor where his and Ari's rooms were.

  A well-concealed door opened in the corner of the room, and Kira entered. Thorel started when he heard the unexpected noise.

  “I didn't mean to startle you sir,” she said sincerely. “The Mistress told me to tell you that she is now available at your leisure.”

  Thorel let himself relax from his surprise and said. “It's alright, Kira. I'm just going to have to get used to the idea that there is another way into every room.”

  She smiled prettily. “It is more convenient for household staff to move through the service corridors, sir. Some are too big to use them. There would be many more people traveling through the halls if they didn't exist.”

  He got up, went to the concealed door and opened it. He could see that she wasn't exaggerating: Nigel could probably get through the dark narrow corridor, but he'd have had a devil of a time with it himself. He'd have to walk sideways and duck.

  “These things can't be open to just anyone, can they? I mean, what if an assassin tried to use them?” Thorel found darker thoughts were becoming his companions now. He wouldn't have even considered that a week ago.

  “Each servant has keys that will allow them to go the places that they need to,” Kira replied.

  “I guess you have some rare ones then, considering I've seen you come into Ari's study this way.”

  “I am thankful the Mistress has trust in me,” she said. “Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  “Then please excuse me sir,” she nodded to him and scurried off through the service corridor, closing the door behind her with a click.

  Thorel had completed his academic work a bit ago. There were many books in the room and he'd picked up a history book to read and relax with. He put it back in its place sticking out a bit so he could find it easily again.

  He packed up his book bag and walked out into the hall. His two armored shadows joined him instantly flanking him from behind. He understood caution, but he felt that having them follow him like this even here on the top floor of the Manor was a bit excessive.

  After a time, he rounded the corner to the west side, where his rooms with Ari were. It was almost the twenty-first hour: he was hoping to get to sleep earlier tonight. The guards at the door of the bedchamber nodded to him as he went in.

  “Thorel, are you here?” He heard Ari in his mind.

  “Yes.”

  “Come to my study then. I want to test something,” she said.

  Thorel set his bag down on the bed and walked through the dining room into Ari's study. He saw her there at her desk with several open books and many papers seemingly scattered: they were scrawled with Magikal formulas that were well beyond Thorel's level of understanding.

  “Just a moment,” she said while writing something quickly. He walked up and put his hands on the back of her chair, looking over her shoulder at the extremely complex formulas.

  “Is this your academic work?” Thorel asked in astonishment. If this was what he had to look forward to in a few years, he wasn't certain he was up to the task.

  “Oh no. This is a personal project. It is for my Master's Thesis,” she said, scribbling away distractedly.

  “What is a Master's Thesis? What is it for?” Thorel asked.

  “Well, some who gain their staffs never write one. But in order to become a Master Wizard, one has to write and present a Master's Thesis to the Wizard's Council,” she said, checking over her work.

  “I didn't know that. What is a Master's Thesis?” He asked.

  She looked at him with a playful smirk. “Sometimes I forget you're still learning these things. A Master's Thesis is a paper written to either add a new technique or Magikal theory to the knowledge of the entire Realm or a paper to disprove an existing theory. Either way, the cause of Magikal knowledge is advanced for all.”

  She nodded at her work in satisfaction, sorted her papers into a neat pile and placed them in a metal case. She locked the case and placed some kind of Magik on it.

  “That makes sense. I wonder what mine should be,” he thought out loud.

  “I would suggest yours could be about your unique abilities. I am fascinated by them, and will help you learn as much about them as I can. But of course, you never have to write a Master's Thesis if you don't want to,” she put her hand on his.

  “What is yours about? And I'm surprised you're worried about it right now. It's a few years before you could gain your staff isn't it? Let alone need to worry about becoming a Master,” Thorel said seriously.

  She shook her head. “I intend to deliver my Thesis to the Council the day I gain my staff. I will have bested the youngest Master ever by seven years when it is accepted.”

  She stood up and looked him in the eye. “The subject is a secret for now. I will say that it is a new technique: but it's a technique that will change the entire realm,” her eyes were so animated when she spoke, it reminded him of a joyful child. He had never imagined seeing her like this. It made her even more beautiful.

  He nodded. He was extremely curious, but he held his peace. “So, what did you need?”

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a disc that was wrapped in silk. She unwrapped it, revealing a beautiful crystal plate.

  “What is this?” He knew it was a plate, but there had to be more to it he wasn't seeing.

  “This is one of the crystal dishes we keep just in case any of the High Nobility visits. I want to test something. Where is your nearest animal spirit?” She said.

  Thorel was puzzled, but said. “The raccoon is investigating your wastebasket right now,” He pointed to it. It was sad in a way to see the animal's spirit trying to get at the garbage when he couldn't even touch it now.

  Ari knelt in her black and white dress and held the plate around the wastebasket. She tried a few different angles and was looking at it. Then her breath caught, and she looked up at him.

  “It is there. I can see it,” her eyes were even more excited than they had been.

  “Because of the plate?” Thorel asked in puzzlement. He was glad that she had found a way to see his animal spirits to further prove to her and himself that he didn't just see things. But he was really curious
about this.

  She nodded. “Spirits reflect in crystal Thorel. It is the only way someone without the sight can see one. So I decided to see if that held true with your animal spirits as well. Here,” she handed him the plate.

  Thorel held the plate up and angled it behind him. He saw his father's ethereal face reflected in it. He was surprised, but in wonder as well. “That is truly amazing. I never knew that.”

  “Well, I'm sure you will get the information in class, just as I did,” she said taking the heavy plate carefully and wrapping it again.

  “Oh, I have some news,” she said excitedly while sliding the plate into the drawer.

  “What is it?” He asked, curious.

  “Wizard Feran has taken the oath of service to our House. He said you recommended he come. Thank you,” Ari glowed when she said this.

  “Well... I wouldn't say I recommended it so much as suggested he could see if you wanted him,” Thorel said.

  “Well, he said that you impressed him a great deal. That is who I dined with tonight. He said you were a courteous, level-headed apprentice with great courage,” she beamed at him.

  Thorel wasn't expecting to leave such an impression on the man, not at all. “I will have to thank him for his kind words then,” Thorel said trying to figure out what he'd done to earn that.

  Ari pulled him to her and kissed him. “Thank you, Thorel.”

  Tuesday May 21st 1624th year of the First Great City

  Promises

  Korin was walking in from the pens after feeding the sheep. By the spirits, he missed Thorel right now. That boy; he stopped his thought and corrected himself proudly. That man was one hell of a hard worker. He missed sparring and fishing with him, too.

  He had sold a third of his livestock that they had taken with them in Handal when they were on their way to Vallad. But he was feeling that he was going to have to sell half of what he had left just so he could keep up with it all.

  He was going to plant half of what he used to next year too: he already knew exactly how he was going to divide the fields for that. His daughters, Lena and Gretchen were good hard working girls, but Lena was only eleven, and Gretchen was sixteen. She was marriageable now, but whatever man was interested had better be respectful or Korin would send him floating down the river.

  His wife Laren was busy keeping the house and keeping Melissa Tangarth in check. Those two things together were a full-time occupation.

  He sat on the stacked wood by the house for a moment to rest and wiped the sweat from his brow. Setting down his shepherds crook and longbow he kept with him in case of trouble he thought; Bryce, you bastard. Did you have any idea what it was gonna take to keep that promise you made me make?

  There was no way his old friend could have known that Melissa was going to completely lose her mind though. She spent much of her time obsessing over everything involving Thorel. Even his privy habits. Between him and Laren they had managed to get her to back away to a degree, but it usually only worked well when they could distract her with something.

  When she worked in her small alchemist’s laboratory he'd built for her on the side of the house, she would be quiet, and leave them all alone. She would even sing songs while she worked instead of talking to her dead husband.

  He had trenched out a garden for the herbs she used in her work outside of her lab. And he made damn sure to remind her that she had to do the work to keep it up. She did, without complaint once she had grown used to doing it. That only took her a few years, and she often roped Thorel into helping with it as well.

  When he'd returned home from Vallad, he'd found her tied up and gagged in her room. She had gone on a screaming fit about Thorel being missing and was literally ripping the house apart looking for him. Laren and Gretchen had tried their best to calm her, but when she'd grabbed Lena and started shaking her, Laren had clubbed Melissa with her rolling pin.

  The only thing he'd said to his wife was, “You should've hit her harder.” He'd immediately felt guilty for giving that thought a voice though, even though Laren smiled wanly when he did.

  For all the trouble she caused, she did earn her keep. It was easy for him to sell the medicines she made in Handal. Their neighbors would often stop here for such things so they didn't have to go all the way to the Hold as well. When she was discussing her former profession, she was completely lucid.

  Its too bad it was the only time she was like that. She'd been the nicest, most cheerful person he'd ever met before they'd been sent to Vox. She was far too good for Bryce. Korin had told him exactly that several times with a smile.

  Over the past two weeks, she'd taken to having deep discussions with Thorel when she was idle. At least he is still alive. Korin thought. He didn't even want to approach her about what he'd discovered.

  Thorel had the Wizard's sight. He was sure of it after their talk in the cart. Korin knew those Towers and others like it were protected by Magik of some kind, and Wizards could see Magik as a bluish glow. He remembered his Officers training well enough and dealing with Legion Wizards was something he'd done more than once. She had told him to keep it a secret for some reason Korin could not fathom.

  That explained why she was in this state when he'd gone to her home in Surundi after returning from Corwinthius. That explained how she could have known that her husband was gone when every soldier that survived had gone to Corwinthius to be decorated. He'd thought a messenger had arrived to tell her all of these years. She'd never answered his question when he'd asked, and now he knew why.

  Thorel must have told her he saw his father. He'd bet his own life on it.

  Korin had always told Thorel to mind his mother, and in matters regarding her son she was excessive sometimes but mostly harmless. He and Laren had only had to directly intervene a handful of times. It usually involved him staying here with Thorel and the girls, and Laren taking Melissa to Handal to get her away from him for a time while each of them tried to put it right the best they could. He always tried to respect her as the boy's mother without interfering unless he absolutely had to.

  Thorel had turned out to be a damn fine man despite everything. He never thought he would come to love him as much as his own girls, but he did. And as much as he'd loved Thorel's father, he knew if that man had raised him Thorel would have seen the inside of a cell at least once before now. Bryce had always had a hard time seeing the line between 'fun' and 'criminal activity'. It was a thin one, and he'd found imaginative ways to test it more than once in their youth.

  But no one in the world had ever made Korin laugh the way Bryce Tangarth had.

  By the spirits, it has been a hard road. Hard on him, but harder on his family.

  That was when he saw the rider approaching from the east through the woods. He couldn't tell if they were friend or foe, but friends you could apologize to, foes you didn't need to.

  He picked up his longbow and went behind the wood pile. He yelled, “Women, stay inside!” as he pulled an arrow and knocked it. He looked around and saw Gretchen running in from the field at his yell.

  “Get inside, girl! I don't know who it is!” He yelled.

  His beautiful brown haired girl didn't say anything. She just changed direction to the house.

  Good girl. He thought, and drew his bow. He took aim on the unknown rider.

  As the rider approached, he could see that it was a woman. She was armed, with a long blade on her side and a bow on her back. The woman was average sized with dark hair. She wore a brown cloak.

  She slowed the horse's mad dash to a trot as she approached. Korin could see she looked like hell. She was likely a few years younger than he was but didn't look like it at the moment with the dark circles and days of road grit she wore.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” He yelled.

  “Are you Korin Quedesham?” She shouted back.

  “Yes. Who are you?” He asked, taking a step out from behind the woodpile with his arrow aimed straight for her heart. He made a slight adj
ustment for the breeze.

  “Kara Torm. I am a messenger. May I dismount?” She asked.

  He nodded, relaxing the draw just a bit and approaching, but ready.

  They met halfway, and she cautiously pulled her cloak open to reveal a pouch slung over her shoulder, with four daggers beneath it. She unclasped it and pulled out a letter.

  By the spirits, don't let something be wrong with Thorel. Was all he could think as he put his knocked arrow in the small quiver he used for field work and took the letter.

  He opened the sealed envelope, pulled out the letter inside and began reading quickly.

  He got to the end, blinked, and reread it. Then he read the document that was with it.

  It was about Thorel alright. But it wasn't news of him being hurt, killed, or slaved which was good. He was more prepared for any of those things than he was for what he was reading though.

  He looked at the waiting woman and took a deep breath. Don't take it out on her. She's just the messenger. He thought.

  “Please tell Lady Fenel that I won't let her use my name to use Thorel in some way,” he said looking the woman directly in her sharp, but tired eyes.

  “Miss Fenel is no longer a noble, Mr. Quedesham. I have been instructed to give you this letter if you refuse,” she said pulling another letter from her pouch.

  No longer a noble? What in the blazes? Korin thought as he took the other letter from the woman. He opened it quickly.

  Lord Quedesham,

  Since you are reading this, you have refused to sign the document I enclosed in the first letter. I believed you to be a man of integrity who would honor his word to me. But it seems my father's sacrifice for your life and the lives of your soldiers was not enough to compel you.

  I would suggest you reconsider. Since I certified your first tier of mastery, I have achieved my seventh. I will come to you as soon as I am able and give you the last lesson you will ever require for breaking your word.

 

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