The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy)

by Foster, Michael

  Samuel soon found himself unable to sleep and he craved to practise his movements and meditation with a hunger. His mind was a riddle of confusion and he found concentration on any task at hand difficult. Mr Kelvin was constantly finding errors in his studies. He awoke in the middle of one night to find a glow just fading from his hands, and a string of words still on his lips.

  ‘Sohm pad e`num-toh jio-toh varnay,’ he whispered to himself. Those had been the words he had been repeating in his sleep and those had been the words the old man, the Grand Master, had recited softly as he meditated. He had never heard them spoken aloud, but somehow he knew these words by heart, as if he had written them down and studied them.

  Waking again and again, night after night, Samuel finally could not resist and sat up in his cot and closed his eyes and crossed his legs and the words sprang from his lips as naturally as the next breath. At first, he spoke them over and over again, repeating twice as he exhaled and then taking in a deep breath again. It was as if someone else was moving him like a puppet, yet it felt to him that this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. His lips soon barely moved at all as the words echoed over and over seamlessly in his mind, until he lost all consciousness of himself and the words were all that remained. The universe and I; everything and nothing.

  Kans dressed and walked down the wide hall to the kitchen, his footsteps echoing after him. After speaking briefly with Cook, who was well underway preparing breakfast for the Masters, he went about taking tea to Master Kelvin. Kans entered silently and, as usual, Master Kelvin was tangled up with only his bed sheets; the blankets being all on the floor. Kans placed the tray on the bedside table and carefully added the milk and sugar from the tiny pots, just as Master Kelvin preferred.

  ‘Master Kelvin,’ Kans called softly. ‘Master Kelvin, it’s time to wake up.’

  With a snort, Master Kelvin opened his eyes and sat up. ‘What! Oh, good morning, Kans,’ he said as he oriented himself and began a great, gaping yawn.

  ‘Tea?’ Kans offered.

  ‘Oh, good. Yes, thank you,’ Master Kelvin replied, smacking his lips. He took the tea, blowing on it and sipping carefully.

  Master Kelvin then did something quite curious, something he had not done before. He put his tea back down before finishing it and began getting dressed, oblivious to Kan’s presence. He seemed to be examining the air around him as if looking for an irritating insect.

  ‘Master Kelvin?’ Kans enquired, a little unsure of his master’s behaviour.

  Master Kelvin looked about himself once more, but then stopped, as if coming upon a vital realisation. ‘Quickly!’ Master Kelvin instructed. ‘Go check on the guests.’

  Kans hurried out, spurred on by Master Kelvin’s concern and, knocking on each Master’s door, made sure they were awake and readying themselves for the day. It took a few minutes and by the time Kans returned to Master Kelvin’s chamber, Master Kelvin was bursting out into the hall.

  ‘Well?’ he demanded brusquely.

  ‘They’re fine, Master Kelvin.’

  Master Kelvin stopped still, thoughtful a moment. ‘Go check on the boy!’ he urged. ‘The boy, I say! See to Samuel!’

  ‘Yes, Master Kelvin!’ Kans declared and hurried down the polished hallway and out the great main doors, spurred on by Master Kelvin’s alarm.

  Kans returned after a short time in an even greater hurry and with even greater alarm written clear across his face.

  ‘Master Kelvin!’ he called out. ‘Master Kelvin!’

  All the Masters were gathered in the dining room, picking at their food, talking over each other and creating an excited hubbub.

  ‘Master Kelvin!’ Kans called again as he pushed his way into the room. ‘Master Kelvin, come quickly!’ he yelled.

  The procession of black-clothed men scurried down the main steps and around the side of the building to the stable. Master Kelvin hurried in and threw open Samuel’s door without a pause. His own dismay was echoed by the gasps from those all pushing and clustered behind him in the doorway.

  Samuel was sitting cross-legged—a scrawny and knobbly-kneed young scrap of a lad, caught at the turning of his youth— with his palms together and his eyes closed. He looked quite peaceful at first glance, but the obvious source of everyone’s surprise was the fact that he was floating halfway to the ceiling. The boy was bathed in a soft blue light that grew from all around him and cascaded up towards the ceiling, where it slowly splashed and dissipated. Samuel’s body glistened with sweat and shook dreadfully, as if beyond exhaustion, yet his face held utter bliss and contentment. His lips moved incessantly, muttering the words of some powerful mantra over and over again.

  ‘Oh, my,’ was all Master Kelvin could say.

  Samuel opened his eyes. His body hurt as if he had done an extra hard day’s work and then, to finish, had thrown himself down a long flight of stairs. He was not in his own room, but instead found himself lying upon a large, soft bed with posts standing at each corner, within a finely polished timber bedchamber. It was still dark outside, but a small lamp was lit upon the wall, lending its soft, golden glow to the room.

  He managed to sit up and pushed a pillow into the small of his back so he was resting against the bedhead. A low, hollow ringing droned in his skull and, along with the aching in his body, he thought he knew how his father must have felt on mornings after drinking.

  Beside him, on a small bedside table, a glass and pitcher waited, so Samuel drank, refilled the glass and then drank again, quenching his parched, sore throat. His bedclothes had been removed and a neatly folded pair of his trousers and shirt waited on a chest next to a shining new set of boots. From the size of them, Samuel guessed they were meant for him.

  There was a knocking at the door and Samuel groaned a feeble ‘come in’. The knob turned and Mr Kelvin came in quietly, almost cautiously. He drew a chair to the bedside and took a sip from the steaming mug in his hand, before setting it on the floor by his heel.

  ‘How are you, Samuel?’ he asked with concern.

  ‘I’m aching all over, Mr Kelvin,’ Samuel managed to moan back.

  Mr Kelvin nodded and picked up his mug and sipped carefully from it before placing it down again. He peered long and thoughtfully out through the window into the still night. ‘Do you remember what happened three evenings ago?’

  Samuel thought for a time and then his memory started coming back to him, although somewhat dimly. ‘The last thing I remember is checking on the horses and getting into bed. Why am I in here? Have I been sick?’

  Mr Kelvin took another long, thoughtful sip. ‘We found you in a catatonic state. It seems you have learned more during your stay here than we would have guessed; much more than you should have.’

  Samuel was surprised and did not know what to say. He had finally been discovered.

  ‘Have you been watching the guests?’ Mr Kelvin asked soberly.

  Samuel nodded, feeling small.

  ‘You know it is forbidden to do so, for your own safety. It took hours to bring you back from the state you were in. If we had not been fortuitous in our efforts, you would have spent the rest of your life being fed pre-chewed food through a funnel.’ Samuel gulped and Mr Kelvin was again silent for a time. ‘Lomar suspected that you had learned something, but I dismissed the fact as the normal curiosity of a young boy. It now seems evident that you do, indeed, have some talent in the ways of magic. Such talent, now tapped, but raw and untrained as it is, can be very dangerous, indeed.’ He again paused and looked thoughtful for a moment, even slightly pursing his lips. ‘I think it is time you realised your potential and learned the ways of a magician.’

  ‘A magician?’ Samuel repeated, bewildered in his feeble state.

  Mr Kelvin nodded. ‘Magic is no childhood story, such as frogfolk and badgermen. This is an inn for magicians, and all of us here, and everyone who ever sets foot within these walls, are magicians. We only allow common folk to enter when we haven’t the time to attend to something
for ourselves, such as with Cook and yourself.’

  ‘Even Kans?’

  ‘Even Kans. It is my wish that you, too, should attend the School of Magic in Cintar. You’re about the right age and it would be a sorry waste if you did not at least try. But I reach too far ahead of us both. I will talk to you of this again tomorrow, for it is late and you need more sleep if your body is to recover from the strains it has suffered.’

  ‘Lomar told me there was no such thing as real magic,’ Samuel said.

  ‘In some ways, that is indeed true, but I think that Lomar was merely protecting you. It is not in most people’s interest to even know of the existence of magic, especially in these times. Even if he guessed you had some pre-disposition towards magic, it is not always easy for one to come to terms with that fact. It is not a whimsical ability as people think, but a challenging force which forever commands our mastery. It is a skill such as any, but one which is rarer than most and more powerful than any other in the right hands. Common folk find it awe-inspiring and therefore elevate the use of magic to levels of godlike or devil-like powers, but it is not really so. For us magicians, it is merely a matter of fact, like tying your bootlaces. It is, however, a great responsibility, for if magic were misused it could mean disaster for the common folk. Come now, get some rest. You will learn more soon enough—once you have recovered.’

  Strangely, Samuel did feel suddenly tired again. For a moment, he thought he saw a tiny string of shining aura flicker out from Mr Kelvin towards him, but perhaps it was his tired mind playing tricks on him. He tried to mumble something, but his tongue was as heavy as his eyelids and neither would do as he wished. He felt hands lower him back onto the bed and the covers being pulled high up around his neck. Mr Kelvin then pushed his chair back and dimmed the lamp a little bit more and left the boy to his already deep sleep.

  The sound of Kans fossicking around the room roused Samuel and, looking towards the window, he judged it to be very soon after sunrise. His muscles still ached, but he longed to stretch his legs and be out of that room. A ravenous hunger also had hold of him and Samuel could smell breakfast streaming in the partly open doorway. Kans departed at the sight of Samuel stirring and left the boy to himself, closing the door softly behind. Samuel sat up and felt all his muscles aching. He clambered slowly out of bed and stretched his arms up towards the feeling. Every muscle and fibre felt stiff and wiry, yet, beneath the soreness, there was also some excitement of being, as if he were a tightly-coiled spring ready to be released.

  Closing the door behind him, Samuel in his new clothes and soft boots, found himself in the unfamiliar halls of the guesthouse. Kans’ tapping footsteps approached and the wiry man, looking as sullen as ever, waved his finger towards a large, double set of doors before striding off again from view. Samuel stepped over, his boots echoing in the polished hall and waited a moment. For some reason, he felt nervous, for he wasn’t sure what could be waiting for him on the other side. Taking a big breath, he pushed open the doors and entered. He found himself in a grand dining room, filled with talk and chatter and where Mr Kelvin and the guests were just beginning to breakfast from a table full of steaming and delicious-looking foods. They looked to Samuel with great interest and the excited talk only increased further.

  ‘Ah, sit down, please, Samuel!’ Mr Kelvin called. ‘You must be hungry and we are eager to speak with you. I trust you are feeling well?’

  ‘Yes. A bit stiff,’ Samuel replied, rubbing his arm just to emphasise his point. His stomach groaned from the smells that filled the room and he quickly filled an empty seat. Cook appeared and placed some steaming soup before him with a nod and a smile.

  ‘Samuel,’ she said in greeting, before hurrying back into the kitchen. Samuel plucked up his spoon and began scooping the soup into his mouth like a sailor bailing water from a sinking boat.

  ‘Now, Samuel,’ Mr Kelvin finally said after Samuel had finished his second bowl. The guests had been whispering and nodding towards Samuel throughout the meal. ‘When we found you, you were saying something, some powerful words. Tell us, how did you learn these words?’

  Samuel bobbed his shoulders, still intent on finishing a large loaf that he had smothered in butter. ‘I watched sometimes through the window above the stable.’ Samuel had already decided to accept any punishment and was too hungry to be bothered telling any stories.

  ‘From the stable roof!’ one of the men exclaimed excitedly. ‘I often had the strangest of feelings that I was being watched.’

  ‘As did I,’ agreed another and there was much nodding.

  ‘And which words were you reciting?’ asked the first.

  Again, Samuel bobbed his shoulders as he swallowed the last bit of crust and Mr Kelvin pushed the fruit bowl towards him.

  ‘I’d say the whole ordeal was subconsciously controlled,’ Mr Kelvin explained to the others. ‘He was probably sensing ethereal vibrations and he memorised the words subconsciously.’

  ‘Why it’s fantastic!’ one man exclaimed and they all nodded and agreed to each other once more.

  ‘But I can sense no talent in the boy,’ a newcomer declared. ‘And yet you say he was clearly several feet above the ground when you found him, and exuding power like there was no tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mr Kelvin replied. ‘Several feet. And, as for his aura, I can’t explain why he does not emanate even the slightest hint of energy. I observed him the first day I met him and thought it was most curious. I only allowed him to stay because I thought he would be interesting to study. I was growing quite tired of every rogue in the town trying to get their spies through my door, but a curiosity like that was just too much to ignore.

  ‘You knew Mr Joshua sent me here?’ Samuel explained with surprise.

  ‘Oh, I have no idea of the workings of the town gangsters and scoundrels at any given moment, Samuel, but it is much simpler to let them put someone in here and feed them a little information as I choose, rather than have them cause more of a bother than it’s worth.’ Samuel was dumbfounded. ‘You obviously seemed to be working for one of the more successful groups or you would have disappeared much earlier—like your poor unfortunate predecessor. Now can you see why I didn’t want you wandering around in town? Now, we still have the question of your missing presence. Indeed, such a complete lack of an aura is more than just a curiosity. Even concealment spells can be detected under close enough scrutiny, but he has nothing. It’s truly perplexing.’

  Men nodded.

  ‘Can he do something now for us?’ the doubting man asked, but Mr Kelvin threw him back a dark look.

  ‘The boy needs his rest and it would be better if he did not use magic until under the supervision of the teachers.’

  ‘So you truly intend to send him to the School of Magic—to become a magician?’ The man sounded truly incredulous. ‘He’s not even Turian!’

  ‘There are more students being accepted from the territories with every year. With need, we find we are forced to break from our old traditions—and I think this is actually one of the better changes.’

  ‘And don’t forget about the Grand Master!’ someone else piped up from the back.

  The doubting man humphed and then crunched into a juicy apple.

  Samuel’s ravenous hunger was beginning to abate as he finished his second banana, but the sight of such a delicious apple had him reaching for one himself.

  ‘Samuel?’ Mr Kelvin began to question. ‘Have you decided what you want to do?’

  Samuel quickly swallowed his remaining mouthful. ‘Do you think I should become a magician, like you?’

  ‘Well,’ Mr Kelvin said with a chortle. ‘It takes a lifetime of study to reach our level of experience and you may never attain such skill, but you certainly have some potential, from what we have witnessed. I think it would be a great loss if you did not at least try. You can always return here if you find some problem.’

  ‘But how will I pay?’ Samuel asked. ‘I don’t have enough money to go to sc
hool.’

  Again, Mr Kelvin laughed. ‘Oh, you don’t need money. The Order of Magicians is very wealthy and you will be given an allowance to study, be it somewhat humble. However, I think you will understand after a short time that magicians really have little use for money.’

  Samuel considered and then agreed. He would actually get paid to go to school? And if he could always return here, then he had nothing really to lose.

  ‘Very good,’ Mr Kelvin declared. ‘Master Goodwin is leaving this very day for Cintar. Perhaps he can escort you.’

  ‘Can the boy ride?’ the younger, moustached Master Goodwin asked. Samuel had only seen him on one previous occasion and he seemed even more mysterious than the others, rarely speaking—even to the other guests.

  When Samuel shook his head, Mr Kelvin said, ‘Then you may take a wagon and we will have it returned another time.’

  Master Goodwin seemed somewhat displeased with the idea, but nodded in agreement.

  ‘Well then, Samuel. It is decided,’ Mr Kelvin spoke. Then to Master Goodwin he turned. ‘Go and tell Kans to ready a wagon.’

  Samuel stood. ‘I can do it, Mr Kelvin.’

  ‘No, no, Samuel. You need your rest and, another thing—as you now have some knowledge of the Order of Magicians, you should call me Master Kelvin from this point on, as is my title.’

  ‘Yes, Master Kelvin, but I can do it,’ Samuel said, but Master Kelvin would hear nothing of it and set Kans to ready the wagon beside the stables.

  Samuel spent the morning being questioned by the guests in the Burning Oak gardens, but he could not even begin to answer most of their questions. He told them of his success in summoning the glow-balls, but kept his terrible mistake with the strange spirit to himself. They even tried to convince him to summon some magic, against Master Kelvin’s wishes, but Samuel was adamant that he would not. He was not even sure he could.