The Young Magician tlt-1

by Michael Foster

  ‘Actually,’ Samuel replied hesitantly. ‘It’s something that requires some privacy.’

  ‘Oh? Very well, then,’ Master Glim granted with a raised eyebrow. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Do you know of Master Ash?’

  ‘I do,’ Master Glim responded.

  ‘I followed him to a tavern, where he met another mage, who I’m sure is not of the Order. They began discussing some plot and Lord Jarrod is involved. It was all very secretive and I couldn’t hear any exact details, but I’m sure there is something going on. They’re planning something. ’

  ‘Samuel,’ Master Glim began solemnly. ‘Lord Jarrod is always planning something, as are most of the other councillors. They have nothing better to do but scheme and plot, with little more in mind than their own entertainment. Nothing surprises me from them.’

  ‘But it sounds serious. They were talking about someone called Balten and all these other men.’

  ‘Samuel,’ Master Glim said, shaking his head. ‘I’m sure it’s not serious. I’m not surprised that Lord Jarrod is dealing outside the Order. Sometimes they do these things. It’s best to leave them to their games and concentrate on your studies. The councillors can take care of themselves. They’re schemers and plotters, the lot of them and it’s far wiser to give them a wide berth. Now, I honestly recommend that you don’t go following anyone else and mind your own business when it comes to the Council’s affairs.’ Samuel was disappointed, but Master Glim continued. ‘And don’t go telling anyone about this. You’ll only get yourself into trouble.’

  Samuel realised he was getting nowhere and nodded in agreement. He felt that his teacher was merely brushing him aside, that no amount of arguing would serve to change his mind. ‘I understand, Master Glim. I’m sure you’re right. I shall see you at tonight’s class, then.’

  ‘Very well,’ Master Glim replied, bearing a smile once again. ‘And no more nonsense. You have a lot of study to do.’

  Samuel left the magician’s quarters and made back for his dormitory. He was disappointed that Master Glim had not taken him more seriously, for he was sure there was something about to happen. The two Erics were intrigued when he told them, but after a few days with no new occurrences, they lost interest in the plot and scolded Samuel whenever he attempted to raise the subject. Several times Samuel found an excuse to pass by Dargill’s Tavern, but he could feel no hint of any magicians there. Of Master Ash, there was also no sign. The man seemed to have disappeared from the city altogether. A few discrete questions told Samuel he had left Cintar for Hammenton on the business of the Council. With no further leads to follow, Samuel finally gave up searching for a conspiracy and returned his attention to his waning studies.

  One bitter morning, whilst the city was gripped by the heart of winter, Master Jod and Master Rubrick had all the Adept standing idly in the school grounds. The students stood rubbing their hands together and stamping their feet for warmth. The two Masters were talking quietly, waiting for the last of the students to arrive and take their places. The rain had stopped since the wild storm of the previous night, yet the ground was still a muddy slurry. The wind had a chilly sting to it, causing everyone-bar the Masters-to don their hoods and draw them tight around their faces.

  ‘Gather closer now, students,’ Rubrick then called out loudly and everyone shuffled nearer. ‘I don’t want to lose my good voice by arguing with this wind.’

  Rubrick was a peculiar fellow. He had an unusual way of stringing words together and a level of patience far beyond any of the other teachers. His skin was quite olive and his eyes were slightly angled. Some said he was from the western islands or beyond, for the deep ocean was treacherous to traverse and little was known about those far flung reaches.

  ‘To begin today’s lesson-’ Jod began. He was much sterner and to-the-point compared with his counterpart. ‘-I would like you all to remove yer robes.’

  Everybody looked to each other, unsure and they began murmuring. Samuel rubbed his hands even harder at the mere thought.

  ‘Come on. Get ’em off,’ Jod demanded.

  ‘Come along, now,’ Master Rubrick said cheerily. ‘You will see the point soon enough. Samuel, how about you start everyone off?’

  Samuel nodded, after he had recovered from the shock of the very thought, and he reminded himself never to stand so near the front again. As he pulled his robe up over his head, he could feel the icy cold wind blowing against his legs. As he stood in his thin shirt and trousers, a young apprentice ran over at Master Jod’s beckoning and took the robe from Samuel’s shivering hands.

  ‘Quickly, now,’ Rubrick said. ‘Don’t leave poor Samuel so cold and lonely.’

  Jod was marching up and down in front of the group with a mildly sadistic smile on his face. ‘Off with yer robes. Come now! Quickly! It’s not that cold. Don’t be such a bunch of babies!’

  Samuel hugged himself desperately. The wind seemed to be blowing straight through his thin shirt, as the others begrudgingly did the same. When they were all half-naked and shivering in the wind, with their thick, warm garments piled up in the beckoning doorway of their dormitory, Master Rubrick motioned for them to gather even closer, and they were all glad to do so.

  ‘Now listen closely,’ he began. ‘Ignore the cold and biting wind. Do not listen to the complaints of your body. Close your eyes and grasp your power-just a little. Let a little magic trickle through your veins.’

  Samuel closed his eyes, biting hard to stop his teeth from chattering. In the darkness, all he could feel was the freezing wind and his body trembling. Hopefully, he would go numb soon and the discomfort would end. Perhaps he would pass out, he thought to himself. That would be even better.

  He could feel magic being summoned around him and quickly tuned his mind to do the same. Innumerable sessions of practice came back to him and his mind soon found that state he required to spell and sweet magic came pouring into him. As always, it took a little effort to stop from filling himself completely, for the joy of magic was ever enticing. For a moment, the cold was forgotten but, as the initial euphoria had ended, the wind and cold came gnawing back at him.

  ‘Very good,’ Rubrick’s voice sounded. ‘It is no small task to summon magic with such a distraction as your own discomfort. Now, follow the flows that we dictate, gently.’

  Samuel at once felt Master Jod’s power around him. It was a subtle spell, cyclic and repetitive in nature, but he could feel the cold being pushed from his very bones, warmth filling his flesh. Keeping his eyes closed, he began fashioning his own weaves on the Master’s. After only a minute, he was mirroring Jod’s spell perfectly. He could still feel the bitter wind tugging at his clothes and brushing his skin, but its chill could not enter him. He was as if he were standing beside the roaring stove in their dormitory.

  ‘Experiment with the spell,’ Rubrick said. ‘It takes but a trickle of energy to keep you warm on such a day as this, but always remember the dangers. Being creatures of flesh, magic will always tax your body. If you kept this spell up for too long, you would tire easily and your mind would be fatigued. Our talents are indeed useful, but should be used wisely. With a little more practice, all of you could repeat this spell at will, but isn’t it far easier to simply wear your robes? For what would happen if you needed to cast another spell in an emergency, but were already exhausted because you were too foolish to put on a vest? It is far wiser to use your magic only when needed or on miserable winter mornings like this when you need to rush outside to pee.’ Everyone laughed at that and Rubrick clapped his hands together sharply. ‘Now cease.’

  Samuel stopped the spell and opened his eyes, looking around him. His friends surrounded him, all being blown at by the wind, yet all standing comfortably and smiling as if indoors. Despite the spell’s end, Samuel still felt some warmth residing in his core. Perhaps it would take a few minutes for the cold to claw its way back in.

  ‘Quickly, now!’ Master Jod called with his gruff voice. ‘Get yer gear on before y
ou all catch a cold. The Grand Master’ll kill us if we let you all drop dead on him.’

  Everyone ran over to the dormitory and there were robes flying as everyone fought to find their own. In the end, everyone threw on the first one they could get their hands on, as the cold had quickly come biting at their heels.

  ‘Hurry up!’ Master Jod shouted out, hurrying away across the sloshing grounds as the rain began to fall once more. ‘Follow us, quickly.’

  Eric Pot was the first out after them, lifting his robe hems like a skirt and bounding after the two Masters with his boots splashing rain and mud. Samuel looked to Goodfellow, who was grinning back at him and together they pushed through the doorway and after Eric. The sound of splashing and mirth followed as the others all charged through the rain after them.

  Eric was waiting with Masters Rubrick and Jod in the doorway of the Great Hall and they urged Samuel and the others to hurry inside from the rain, which was now beginning to fall with great earnest. After all the boys had pushed inside, Master Rubrick pulled the door firmly shut with a resounding boom and they moved into the flat, central area before the benches. The two fires on either side of the hall were roaring and the air was lovely and warm.

  ‘No you don’t!’ Master Jod ordered as one Adept, Marcus, began to remove his robe. ‘For this exercise, you must keep yer robes on. Now spread out.’

  They all spaced themselves evenly across the floor. Samuel’s heart was still pounding from the race across the muddy grounds. The water on his face had dried already and he could feel that he was already starting to sweat in his armpits. He had the feeling that they were in for some more discomfort before the lesson was done.

  Master Rubrick sat on the foremost bench while Master Jod took command.

  ‘Warm up! Come on now. Follow me!’ Jod called out, facing them. He put his hands behind his head and began squatting up and down on the spot.

  At once, everyone joined in and, after they had done thirty or so, Jod then led them into as many jumps on the spot.

  ‘You must learn to be as agile in yer robes as in anything!’ Jod called out as he bobbed up and down. ‘It’s the custom of magicians to appear statelier than the common folk, so you should never let minor discomforts bother you. And if they do, you can’t go showing it. If you are nice and warm while others shiver, or nice and cool while others sweat, then the people begin to hold you in awe. If you shiver like a little girl, the people will start to think we have regular flesh and blood like them-and we can’t have that now, can we? It’s a small thing, but it gives us magicians power over the common folk-peasants, nobles and kings alike.’

  Samuel then caught on to the concept of this lesson. It was not really about the exercise or the encumbrance of the robes-Jod was intent on getting them hot-and it was working.

  ‘Riding Stance,’ Jod called and the boys all dropped into the even-weighted summoning position. ‘Forward Stance!’ Jod continued and began leading them through the various positions one by one. Already Samuel was considerably wet under his clothes and sweat ran freely down all their ruddy faces. ‘These stances should be second nature to you now. What’s wrong with you? You’re all young! Look at me! I’m old! Faster! Let your body do all the work and let your mind be free to concentrate.’

  Samuel closed his eyes and moved through the stances. He could judge his timing by the stamping of the others upon the timber floor; also, he had been over this hundreds of times and it had become automatic to him. Once again, he could feel another’s spell running over him. This time, it was Master Rubrick’s and, by copying the flows of the spell, Samuel felt a surprising coolness on his skin. The closer he came to matching the teacher’s spell, the less the heat of exertion bothered him and the cooler he felt. He opened his eyes again and still held the spell. It was virtually identical to the warming spell, yet in some respects it was opposite, but Samuel supposed that was logical.

  Turning full around during Peasants’ Circle, Samuel could see a few others on the brink of exhaustion. They stumbled over themselves and were dripping with perspiration. Samuel replicated his own cooling spell several times and cast it over them. He supposed by doing so he was not really helping them to learn for themselves, but they would not master the spell today anyway, from the look of it. At least he was making them a little more comfortable and gaining some extra practice for himself.

  ‘Well done!’ Master Jod exclaimed as they all stamped to a halt at the last position and brought their feet back together, standing at ease once again. ‘Most of you have learned the lesson at hand. A few others I will speak with later. Tomorrow we shall discuss the theory of what we have learned, so meet Master Rubrick and me here after breakfast. Now get out with yers!’ They all went to leave, but Master Jod had one more thing to say. ‘And by the way, Samuel-if I catch you helping the others during one of my lessons again, there’ll be hell to pay. Do you understand?’

  Samuel gulped. ‘I’m sorry, Master Jod. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘I’m not such a fool that I can’t feel you throwing spells around like a bull in a pottery shop. You have much more practice to do before you can get away with that. Now off with yer.’

  Samuel nodded again and damned himself for being so clumsy.

  ‘What do you think, Samuel?’ Eric asked at Samuel’s side. Goodfellow had also stepped up to be with them.

  ‘These spells? They’re the most useful things we’ve learnt lately,’ Samuel replied. I was beginning to think we were going to go over the same boring lessons for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Eric agreed.

  ‘It looks as though poor Lan and Chadly couldn’t quite manage,’ Goodfellow said.

  ‘They’ll learn,’ Samuel added. ‘They’re both a little slow at times, but the Masters will keep them atop of things.’

  ‘What class do we have next?’ Eric asked, using the Old Tongue.

  ‘That’s all for today,’ Goodfellow responded, using the same speech. ‘Master Glim is still away, so we have the afternoon free.’

  An evil smile crossed Eric Pot’s lips. ‘Gesh’eahn,’ he said, rubbing his hands with glee. Wonderful.

  ‘Are you thinking of visiting the city then, Eric?’ Samuel asked with a smile.

  ‘You know me far too well, Sammully,’ Eric replied.

  ‘I would love to join you,’ Goodfellow said, scratching at his sandy hair, ‘but I’ve already promised to organise some journals for Master Kalbak.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Eric declared. ‘Samuel and I are going to enjoy ourselves, aren’t we?’

  ‘I’d say you’re more likely going to get wet,’ Goodfellow said.

  ‘The markets are well covered,’ Eric said, ‘although, admittedly, they do leak all over the place.’

  ‘We’ll see you later, then, Eric,’ Samuel told Goodfellow. The two Erics were often at odds over what was more important in life: work or recreation. Samuel suspected they would never come to an agreement, but he settled the matter in his own mind with something Master Kelvin had often said. Everything in moderation, except for moderation. You should have plenty of that.

  As Samuel went to step out of the Great Hall, he eyed the rain with apprehension. It was nearly raining sideways now, for the wind had blown up almost to a gale. Samuel pulled his robes tighter and hurried out, throwing the warming spell onto himself as he went-for Master Jod was right; he had lots of practice to get done, so he may as well start now.

  ‘Eric! Wait!’ he called out through the rain and darted after his friend. At least this way, he could improve his spells and visit the city at the same time.

  Samuel lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling beams. He had done little but sleep, wipe his nose and look at the ceiling for days now; all thanks to the cold he had caught from running around the city with Eric in the wet. His head ached as soon as he tried to read and his body was too stiff to move further than down the stairs to get something to eat. Even his appetite evaded him at the moment.

  T
he others had been taken to the palace to put on a performance for the royal court and Samuel was fuming that he had missed out. He still had not managed to see inside the palace, whereas some of the others had even been twice. Eric had told Samuel that they would go together when he was feeling better, for he declared that it was quite simple to sneak in and look around. Samuel had decided to wait until his friend had tested his theory a few more times before he tried it for himself.

  Samuel’s limbs began to tremble again and he slightly altered his warming spell to make himself a little more comfortable. These turns of hot and cold kept dogging him and no amount of spelling could keep them at bay for long. He could not remember ever feeling so ill. Master Glim had said he would probably be better by today, but he only felt worse. The droning in his head started up again and he realised he was wet with perspiration, so he altered the spell yet again.

  Shivering, he soon fell back into nightmarish dreams, where ghostly white claws tugged at his sheets and threatened to pull him through the dark cracks in the floor and a man loomed in the doorway, laughing hysterically at Samuel’s misfortune.

  It was still raining a few days later, but Samuel was feeling a little better. Goodfellow had brought him a concoction of herbs that his auntie had recommended, and they seemed to be doing the trick. Perhaps tomorrow he could return to class. He felt awful staying in bed all day and, with all the rain and having this bad cold, he felt in a terrible mood. He had tried studying, but he could not concentrate enough to read his notes and everything he did manage to read made little sense. When he was better, he would study twice as hard and practise magic all day long. He was tired of this school and tired of his classes and his teachers and his classmates. He wanted to hurry up and graduate and show everyone what a real magician could do. He would prove to the entire Order that he was the greatest magician Amandia had ever seen. He would train the teachers how to actually teach their pupils, instead of treating them like children and wasting their precious time every day. And, if anyone challenged him, he would show them the true extent of his power, for his magic would be beyond compare. Given a little more time, he would be able to defeat any of the teachers here, and even Grand Master Anthem, should he choose. Samuel smiled at that thought. He would prove to everyone that he was the most powerful magician there ever was. He closed his eyes and lay back in his bed. Opening himself to the ether, he filled himself with magic and let it course through and around his body, thrilling him. As he lay alone in the dormitory, he smiled to himself and envisaged all his fantasies of future conquest. He would show them all, he thought and, as his magic burned through him, he actually believed it was true.