The Young Magician tlt-1

by Michael Foster

  ‘But where would I go?’ Samuel asked. ‘How can I just disappear? I don’t want to leave.’

  ‘Very well,’ the man said with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘Then enjoy your last hours.’

  ‘Wait, wait,’ Samuel pleaded. ‘Tell me what I should do.’

  ‘Just leave the city. You can come back once you have learned to fend for yourself.’

  ‘How long will that take?’ Samuel asked. ‘The war in the north could have started by then.’

  The magician smiled, almost mischievously. ‘I’m sure it will. The war is a triviality, Samuel. Greater things are at work. You must learn to turn your head and see more than just what is in front of your eyes. I will tell you this, and if there is only one thing I tell you that you believe, then, let this be it: you have a power like no other magician we know, but you are still a boy by most standards. You must survive and develop towards whatever potential awaits you. The Empire and the Order and even the Circle itself are inconsequential compared to what will come in future days and you must be ready.’

  Samuel mused over the magician’s words.

  ‘Listen to me,’ the man continued. ‘The Order is changing, as you have seen. They have precious little to teach you now and are more of a threat to you than anything. You must become your own teacher. You must experience what lies beyond the walls of your tiny little school and beyond the walls of this city. There are secrets you can only discover by looking inward-secrets far greater than anything you can be taught or shown by another. I will send you far away, to the distant reaches of the Empire. I want you to stay hidden and I want you to study your inner magic. When the time is right, I will send word to you, but ignore everything else you may hear-about the Order or the Empire or the war. If you do as I say, when you return to Cintar, you will be a king among magicians and you will realise that everything happening now is just bluster and nonsense.’

  ‘Where will I go?’

  ‘I already have something in mind. There is a small town in the territory of Tindal called Gilgarry. I have a man there doing some work for the Circle. He can provide you with funds and arrange anything you need. He goes by the name of Cervantes. Keep your identity secret, even from him, and he will provide you with whatever you need. As long as you remember that, you will remain safe.’

  Samuel took a deep breath as he thought the matter over. The smoke was leaving a bitter taste in the back of his throat and he ached to be out of the place.

  ‘Very well,’ he finally said. ‘I don’t see that I have much of a choice if I want to live. I’ll pack my things and leave at once.’

  ‘Samuel,’ the magician said, levelling his gaze at the young magician opposite him. ‘If you go back to the School of Magic, you may not have the chance to leave. You should go directly to the South Gate and don’t look back. There are many merchants there to supply your needs. You can get a horse and provisions easily enough and be on your way before you are found.’

  Samuel shook his head. ‘How did everything come to this?’ he asked out loud. ‘Everything was going so well and now my life is turned upside-down again.’

  The magician took a deep breath on his pipe and exhaled pale blue smoke with a sideways grin. ‘That is life, Samuel. You should get used to disappointment.’

  ‘So it seems I must join you as you said, despite my own wishes. Then tell me-what is your name?’

  ‘I won’t lie to you, but I cannot tell you my true name yet. Suffice to know, I am known by some as Soddan.’

  ‘Little brother?’ Samuel asked, for he recognised the word in the Old Tongue.

  ‘Yes, it is a long story. If you return to Cintar, I will probably know, but if you somehow find yourself needing me, you can ask for me here by that name. My one pleasure in life is to smoke some fine Fiskian tobacco, so I come here on the rare occasions that time permits.’

  Samuel waited a few moments, then with a sigh he said, ‘So, I will go.’ He stood from his cushion and nodded toward the cross-legged magician. ‘Thank you for your help, Master Soddan.’

  ‘Bah!’ the magician responded. ‘I am no Order lackey. Don’t give me such titles.’

  ‘Very well. Before I leave, I want to ask you something. There is a man I have vowed to kill. I will follow your advice, but I will not rest until I find him. I have heard him talking with people in the Circle, so perhaps you know him. His name is Master Ash.’

  Again, the magician smiled knowingly, as if everything Samuel said had some hidden meaning. ‘Yes, I know of him, but I’m afraid I can’t offer you any more information than that just now. Suffice to say that I’m very sure you will have your chance to kill him if that is what you really desire, but first you must save yourself by getting out of the city. Go now and be quick about it.’

  At that, Samuel went over to the doorway, bent down, and ducked back outside. He had no intention of going directly to the South Gate as Soddan had instructed, for he could not possibly disappear without telling his friends and he absolutely needed his notes and journals. He wove his way through the streets, making his way back towards the north end of the city, skittish all the while.

  Coming to Cornish Street, Samuel was divided as to whether he should take the most direct route by turning left or the longer route by turning right. After a few moments of nervous indecision, he turned entirely about and decided to make his way as indirectly as possible to avoid anyone who may be waiting in his path. Samuel could not help but notice a fellow standing idly a few strides away and looking directly towards him from beneath the rim of a tight green cap. He could not help feeling even more anxious as the man began coming towards him. He tried to walk calmly, but he could not help quickening his steps. Every so often, he would look back over his shoulder, and the man was there, following some way behind, peering through above the crowd. At last, Samuel sprang forward and began running as fast as he could.

  Panting and tired a few streets away, Samuel glanced over his shoulder, but the man was nowhere to be seen. He hurried the rest of the way back to the School of Magic, making a beeline without any further thought of subterfuge. Only when he had passed through the open gates that broke the school walls did he feel any safer.

  ‘So, you’re really going?’ Goodfellow asked as Samuel hurriedly packed his satchel.

  ‘I have no choice that I can see,’ Samuel said. ‘If I stay I’m done for. I’m certain.’

  ‘Things are really falling to pieces,’ Goodfellow responded forlornly. ‘Soon there will be no one left here at all.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Eric,’ Samuel told his friend. ‘You’ve always been the sensible one. I’m sure everything will work out for you and soon enough, I’m sure we’ll meet again.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Goodfellow admitted. ‘So where will you go?’

  ‘I can’t tell you,’ Samuel replied. ‘It’s better that you don’t know. I’m sure Jarrod’s men are already after me, and who knows who else, so I will leave at once. I shouldn’t even have returned here, but I couldn’t have left without letting you know and getting my journal.’

  ‘Do you want me to tell Master Glim?’

  ‘No,’ Samuel returned abruptly. ‘Don’t tell him anything, except that I have gone away. I’m not even sure I trust him any more.’

  ‘I just hope you know what you are doing, Samuel.’

  ‘Me, too,’ he admitted.

  They shook each other’s hands and Samuel embraced his friend in a crushing hug. Without looking back, Samuel then left the dormitory. He went to the stables, where a couple of apprentices were tending the horses. Samuel chose the best steed there and then checked her harness and saddle twice over after the boys had announced she was ready.

  ‘Does she have a name?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said one. ‘Nobody ever told us if she does.’

  ‘Then I shall have to come up with a good one.’

  Pushing one boot into a stirrup, he hoisted himself up. He wanted to give the boys some advice that w
ould see them through these days. If the Council had its way, they would soon be heading off to war. ‘Study hard,’ was all he could think to tell them and he clicked his tongue and started his mount towards the entrance.

  Perhaps it would have been better, Samuel thought to himself, if he had accepted the offer of the Circle of Eyes and joined their ranks, or even Balthazar’s misdirected Union of Modern Magicians. At least they did not try to disguise their nature. They were honest about what they were. Soddan was right in many ways. The Order had no use for him now and so had simply decided to kill him. All the while, he had thought he was part of some grand and honourable cause, but really he had just been a pawn all along. All that did not matter now. He was leaving such things behind him and he would soon forge his own fate.

  He shook the reins and urged his animal on and out of the School of Magic, through the bustling streets and out of the East Gate without any hint of the lanky man or other pursuer. With his black cloak flowing behind him, Samuel left the grand city of Cintar behind and began along the long and dusty road from which he had once come.

  INTERLUDE

  An excerpt from the Book of Helum (4:1:1)

  Let me begin by stating something that may be startlingly obvious. Magic is no fairy tale. It really exists and affects our everyday lives, whether we know it or not. Magic is the name for a powerful force that exists all around us, which can be harnessed and used if, of course, you know how. To many people, magic seems a fascinating and wondrous thing, seemingly capable of accomplishing any number of tasks, but, in truth, it is merely another form of energy, such as heat or light or movement, but one which can be moulded by the will alone. Magic can be directed with mere thoughts, which makes it seem positively remarkable, but given that reality itself is shaped by how we perceive it, the existence of something like magic should really come as no surprise.

  Magic cannot however, as many people like to think, accomplish everything. I have never seen or even heard of some of the things that are rumoured to occur in many old wives’ tales: such things as dancing furniture, talking fountains, frogs that change into princes or princes that change into frogs. Magic can only accomplish very limited and practical things and not such frivolous nonsense. It can be converted into any of the other forms of energy with great efficiency. It is then up to the user to direct this resulting energy into more complex forms. Heat can create flame, light can create illusion, and attraction can create wind and movement. Combinations of energy can create very complex structures, such as storms and advanced illusions that feel firm to the touch and rich in the nose.

  Nothing that is not real can be made from magic. Of course, you can create illusions from magic, but only ‘real’ things can be formed, as opposed to ideological or abstract concepts. You cannot create happiness or love or sorrow or even lies and truth, for they are creations of our imaginations and are not tangible things. By altering the physical mind of a higher creature, you can make them feel happy or loving or sorrowful, but this is another thing altogether.

  It has been theorised that variations in the ether cause the flows which we, in turn, harness and call ‘magic’, but I have often wondered what exactly causes these variations, for why should a perfect structure such as the ether find itself containing areas which vary from one part to another? What should cause these differences? I, of course, cannot tell from personal experience, but I have often theorised and my pondering has led me to regard the very universe itself. For it is upon the ether that our universe is built, for otherwise, where would it be and what would be between the things that exist, but nothing? If there was nothing, how could something then be put there and what would hold it in place? The answer, of course, is that there is always something for matter to be placed upon, even when we cannot see it, and this thing we call ‘the ether’. How then, can nothing be something? The answer again, of course, is that it must be everything, for only by being everything can something exist as both nothing and something. By bending and folding the endless fabric of the ether in place, something is created from nothing.

  The nature of the universe is chaos. This can be seen at any given moment in any given act. Cups often fall from tables and break into many small pieces, but very rarely do the little pieces I leave at the base of my table (sometimes for many years at a time while I prolong my pondering) leap up and form a cup without my direct intervention. My home is very often in a state of disarray, and never is it tidy unless I make an effort to make it so. This is why chaos reigns, for energy must always be exerted to keep chaos at bay, while chaos will spring into being freely given the slightest opportunity. This being said, if the nature of the universe is chaos, why then, do we fight against nature? Why do we not, in our lives, allow chaos to take its due course? Simply because we are creatures of habit, which is a form of order, and we survive purely through the fact that we challenge chaos. If we did not, we would never accomplish anything constructive-again, a form of order. Life, then, can be said to be a little knot of ordered chaos, acting in direct opposition to the turbulence of destruction around it. Creation and destruction are ever at ends with each other; life and death; order and chaos.

  The nature of the universe is order. It can be seen at every opportunity that this is so, for everything in existence yearns for balance. Given the chance, every mote of matter, every fragment of energy would prefer to be evenly spaced throughout the universe, completely without variation. This, unfortunately, would result in a uniformity void of change or variance or anything remotely interesting, so it is quite lucky that order and chaos have each other to keep things in check, or everything would be rather plain and unappealing, indeed.

  So we can now see how the nature of the universe is both order and chaos, for they coexist in both opposition and cooperation. By their very nature, chaos and order are opposite, yet you can now see how they are part of the same thing-nothing more than folds and bunches in the fabric of existence we call the ether that we perceive as the figments of reality: matter, energy, time and space.

  Still, this brings me back to the same old question-why? This is the eternal question that has plagued philosophers such as me since we first discovered our navels. Our only solace is that when we inevitably roll over and die, we may find out firsthand, but then who would we have to boast to? In death, the knot of life that we are becomes unknotted and all that comprised us flattens back out into the ether and is free to be bound up again as part of something else.

  Keeping in mind that nothing is ever lost-matter and energy and time and space can simply change form, but the ether is infinite and unchangeable-what becomes of our mind?

  Your current consciousness would end and, if it were weak enough, it would become unbound and distributed throughout the soup of other such tiny motes of experience. If the mass of experiences and memories and all that we call ‘self’ is hardy enough, it may remain singular enough to withstand the torrential ocean of death, and the spirit may remain intact. These are the echoes of lives that once were and these are the spirits that sometimes return to terrorise us on stormy nights. Not quite intact, not quite dissolved, they hang onto their existence with stubborn tenacity. It may even be feasible that some learn to persevere indefinitely and forever resist the tugging presence of the ether and perhaps even learn to mould the ether around them. These are what we foolishly call ‘gods’, for man has a habit of categorising all things with such labels in an effort to comprehend them. Again, whether or not there is any point to this, we will perhaps never know.

  This is the cycle of our existence. Those who attain enlightenment remain conscious, one with everything, yet in a state of individuality, using the un-variation that surrounds them, to create energy and matter and life, creating potential that, one day, may itself reach enlightenment. This is the only reason for life that we can fathom: to create more life. And the reason for this? I believe the answer is ‘to experience’, for once everything has lived and everything has died and the universe, all matter, all
energy and all consciousness have passed back into a state of non-being, what will have changed? What will be different? Nothing. Nothing, except all that which has occurred. All things must end and all things will begin again, the universe included. So what is there to do in the meanwhile? Nothing, but to make use of the passing aeons by enjoying our experiences. It is better than doing nothing, after all.

  So what can we learn from all this? Perhaps that life has no meaning? Perhaps. Perhaps that our only goal is to better ourselves as much as we can? I believe that is more the logical choice. We have an innate instinct to create and to procreate and to ever become greater. This is a noble goal, but it should not be mistaken for greed or competition. By improving others, we improve ourselves. Money and wealth and personal belongings may have been necessary at one time, but we have evolved-we are changing. We are well on our way to becoming that which we are capable of being and it is time we left behind the weights and anchors that keep our mortal minds and bodies tied to the earth. We should take our place amongst the heavens, for there is limitless opportunity for those of us with the foresight to raise our gaze from the soil at our feet, where simple life struggles, and envisage the countless, churning stars above.

  But I grow far too sentimental. For I know nothing of this from my own personal experience and, if I did, I would not tell you anyway, for one must learn for oneself to truly find the way forward. What else is there to do unless you are a god already?