The Emperor's Mage

by Clark Bolton

“Might have been,” Rish admitted in a half serious tone. “I made instructors mad so many times they made me sit next to Ich!”

  “And that still didn’t save you,” Bose said with a pat to Rish’s back.

  Ich-Mek frowned at the last comment before admitting, “I made a copy of that scroll.”

  The other two were silent for a few moments as they took in the ramifications of what he had just claimed. It put him in a whole new class in their eyes, he could tell. It also meant he could make a good living at doing this, he was sure.

  “What does it take to make a copy, Mek?” Bose then asked with a slight smile on his face.

  “Wood-bled ink…and some special paper,” Ick-Mek replied. “Then you have to know what syllables not to write next to each other, before writing others.”

  “Sounds hard,” Rish commented.

  “It is! Takes me hours to do a re-color scroll. And if I make a mistake I have to start all over again.”

  “Could you do others?” Bose asked slyly as he rubbed his chin.

  Ich-Mek looked up to recall how many different spells he had copied to date. “I’ve done…five different ones.”

  “In your cell?” Bose asked excitedly.

  “Some of them,” Ich-Mek admitted.

  He could see where this was going now, and so anticipated the next question. When asked if he had any wood-bled ink left, he told them he hadn’t, and then admitted he did still have a couple sheets of rice-paper good enough for a spell-scroll.

  “We are going to the cave tonight!” Bose then announced.

  “I told you I don’t have any ink.”

  “No, but when you get some you’ll need to know what spell to copy.”

  “I don’t have any spells to copy.”

  “This is but a small hurdle!” Bose replied with a grin.

  “Is this for Tang?” Rish then demanded to know.

  __________________________

  Ich-Mek looked at the stack of old, tattered rice-paper toward the side of the classroom, then looked over to the tiered section of the room where three instructors sat. Two of them looked to be doing the exact thing he was, which was copying a spell-scroll.

  It didn’t surprise him anymore, he tried to convince himself. These instructors had begun to seem like very old students to him, rather than extremely learned men. He had overheard their conversations in the past, and was almost sure now that he had arcane-knowledge they did not possess; either that or they had somehow forgotten it.

  These thoughts made him want to talk to Tang even more, especially after Bose and Rish had claimed to talk to him. Tang wanted a documentation spell-scroll, they had told him. Give him that and Tang would talk about anything Ich-Mek wanted to, and for as long as he wanted to, or so they had promised. Ich-Mek didn’t know if the pile contained the scroll Tang wanted but was sure there would be something in there of value to the man.

  After glancing at his only classmate, who looked to be engrossed as well in spell copying, Ich-Mek rose from his seat and began walking toward the stack. He had to wipe his sweaty hands on his robes before daring to touch the topmost scroll. It was a magic detection spell; this one always seemed to work its way to the top. Valuable to all mages, Ich-Mek assumed.

  Next was a simple cantrip – a mend spell. The thought of knowing it suddenly seemed wise to him, if for no other reason than to be able to mend robes torn on rosebushes. The third one began a series of useless cantrips, running from smile spells to cough spells and even a clap spell, which produced a loud clap when cast.

  Shaking his head, he dared to glance at the instructors again to wonder what spells they planned to copy. None of these, he hoped. When, upon further searching, he found one of interest, he carefully removed it from the stack.

  It was a location spell – and a difficult one to copy, he could see. Not only was it long, but it was complex as well, and ran through almost his entire range of arcane-script knowledge. So difficult did it look that he wondered if those behind him could accomplish it. He could, he told himself, though it would take him all night at the very least.

  With shaky hands he tucked the page under three of the cantrip spells, then took all four back to his seat. He then spent the rest of the class silently practicing what he planned to say, to get his instructors to let him take the cantrips back to his cell.

  “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow night,” Ich-Mek suggested sleepily as they crawled through the rosebushes. He had thought he could do this visit to the cave after spending the last ten hours copying the location spell, but now he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

  “I’ll go first,” Bose told him as he pulled the half bundled vines out of his hand. “Just don’t fall on me.”

  “Yeah,” Ich-Mek replied as he lay back on the trampled foliage to rest his eyes.

  It wasn’t until Rish told him to go next that he realized he had dozed off. His friend helped him gather up the thin vines, then held on to his arm as he slowly slid over the edge of the cliff. Thankfully, Bose was there to guide him down, after which they walked silently the rest of the way to the cave.

  At the mountain of slate they went right instead of left, which until now had been the only part of the cave Ich-Mek had been to. The cave seemed unusually quiet to him, though he had to remind himself that this was only his second visit. When Bose stopped and then pointed up to a kind of freestanding rock ledge, which towered above the cave around it, Ich-Mek figured it was time to wake up fully.

  He let Bose do all the talking, which involved standing at the base of the ledge and calling up. It was dark and quiet up there at first, but after repeated pleas, Bose got a reply, and eventual permission to come up. This involved climbing up a short, rickety ladder that was lowered down.

  Tang was alone, which Bose and Rish had told Ich-Mek he had been on their last visit. In the light of several glow spells the man appeared little different than the friends did. He had the same build as a student, as opposed to some of the instructors at the school. But Ich-Mek suspected the man’s hair might have a little gray in it. His skin certainly had a grayish tinge to it.

  “You brought the scroll?” Tang asked with barely-contained excitement.

  “We couldn’t find the one you wanted,” Bose informed him, “but we brought you another one.”

  Tang practically growled at them and looked ready to dismiss them, but finally motioned with his hand to see the scroll. Ich-Mek handed it over, then felt a surge of pride when the man sat and began to closely examine it. Tang had dared to light a candle with a cantrip, and Ich-Mek couldn’t help but wonder if the cantrip had been in the stack of scrolls back in the classroom.

  The man clearly lived here on this ledge, Ich-Mek concluded after looking around. There was a bedroll, which looked filthy beyond belief. Several keep-chests were there, along with numerous buckets and crates. The squalor of it made him wonder how knowledgeable Tang could possibly be.

  “You’re an odd-boy,” Tang asserted after lowering the scroll and staring at Ich-Mek for a moment. “It’s always odd-boys who bring me scrolls.”

  The statements startled Ich-Mek back to attention, making him wonder how Tang knew which one of them had made the scroll. His robes were decorated with the set of jangles that clearly identified him as an odd-boy, but he couldn’t see how that disqualified the others from consideration.

  “Yes,” Ich-Mek replied with a smile. “Can we ask you some questions now?”

  Tang held up his finger in response, then scurried off to retrieve something. Coming back, he then sat down again, and began paging through a small book he held. Finding the page he wanted, he then held out the book for Ich-Mek to read.

  He was shocked to see that written in tiny arcane-script was the very spell he had given to Tang. Never before had he seen such a book, as it looked to contain many more spells. He couldn’t think of anything to say as his heart sank.

  “What are your questions?” Tang then said matter-of-factly after stuffing Ic
h-Mek’s scroll into his robes.

  Pleased that the man apparently desired another copy of the spell, Ich-Mek began to then frantically consider what question to ask first. Over the last year he had come up with countless questions, but suddenly his fatigued mind seemed almost blank.

  “Why do you live here?” Ich-Mek asked before he could stop himself.

  Tang shook his head slowly while scratching it at the same time. “That’s not what you came here to ask. Now, what’s your name?”

  “Ich-Mek.”

  “Well…Ich…you’re an odd-boy, so tell me who your master is.”

  “Master Juel.”

  “Ohhhh!” Tang let out loudly as he circled his head wildly several times. “On the prime path, are we?! You make this copy?” Tang then asked as he pulled the scroll partway out of his robes.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Being honest, are we?” Tang then wondered aloud. “Tell me how you accomplished that.”

  Ich-Mek smiled plainly, then said, “I found the scroll…when looking for the one you wanted. Then borrowed it…made a copy in my cell.”

  “Cell!” Tang cried out loudly, sending an echo out into the darkness around them. “You are on the prime path! Wish I had a cell,” he scoffed.

  Ich-Mek smiled nervously before daring to ask, “Is there another peg-board?”

  Tang shook his head in shock then motioned for the three of them to sit. He then got another candle and handed it to Ich-Mek. After apparently waiting for Ich-Mek to light the candle, Tang then did it himself with another cantrip. The man then looked him up and down for a few moments.

  Leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, Tang then stated, “You are the first odd-boy to ask me that question.” He shook his head in disbelief again before adding, “The first odd-girl too, and the first student! Gods, not even instructors have asked this question.”

  Ich-Mek began to wonder if Tang was being truthful or perhaps sarcastic in some way. “Then there isn’t one?” Ich-Mek asked as his heart raced.

  Tang shook his head before saying, “No one knows. Except for the Regent. Ober-Toss would be the one to ask.”

  “But I can’t do that,” Ich-Mek replied as he began to wonder if this was a wasted effort.

  “Neither can I, but I’ve wanted to for years,” Tang admitted. “Seven paths don’t explain things, do they?”

  “No,” Ich-Mek replied. “But why not tell everybody? My masters don’t always seem to know…”

  Tang smiled at him knowingly. “You think you know more than they do.”

  Ich-Mek shook his head violently to let the man know he would never think such a blasphemous thing. “I’m just a student,” he pleaded.

  “You’re lying…I can see it in your eyes. You’ve seen how ignorant some instructors are.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Can they all copy scrolls, Ich?” Tang asked skeptically.

  Ich-Mek smiled plainly before saying, “I don’t think all of them can. But they don’t need to!”

  “Need to! How can they be the Emperor’s mage if they can’t?”

  “They’re not, I guess,” he replied after thinking for a moment. “Just some have to be, right?”

  “Three!” Tang barked loudly. “Three every cycle…just like the last one and the one before that. Three top students…oh, and let’s not forget the three top girls. So six dragon-students!”

  Ich-Mek could tell his friends were more than ready to leave now, as Tang’s emotional state was starting to look fragile at best. Holding up his hand to his friends, he tried to delay their departure.

  “Then there is another peg-board?”

  Tang shook his head again. “Perhaps…and maybe this spell could show us where it is?”

  “Could it?” Ich-Mek dared to ask.

  “Couldn’t get to it, anyway!” Tang then informed him loudly. “Ober-Toss has it, remember?”

  “Then we…can’t see it.”

  “No. And really, what good would it do you?” Tang asked with a grin. “Too late for you…too late for me.”

  “Still want to know,” Ich-Mek admitted.

  “Worry more about being one of the three.”

  “What if I’m not?”

  “Then you can live in a cave like me!” Tang then laughed for a good long while.

  “Why is that so funny?” Ich-Mek wanted to know.

  “Because the one thing the second peg-board won’t show you is what happens to the three…or the six, as it were.”

  “One goes to the palace…to be the Emperor’s mage. Don’t they?” Rish asked softly.

  Tang shook his head. “Only if the palace-mages come at the end of the cycle…and only if they select one…and only if they have an Owesek-ring for him to wear.”

  It wasn’t the first time Ich-Mek had heard the word Owesek before, as some of the school songs they sang contained it. It was a word of legend and was associated with the dragon emperors and their mages. For him and his friends it had become synonymous with the concept of the Emperor’s mage.

  “Sorry, but I don’t want to live in a cave,” Ich-Mek said after a time.

  “Why live at all?” Tang replied sadly.

  “What do you mean?” Bose asked with a bit of impatience in his voice.

  Tang took a deep breath before saying, “Because if someone is closer than your blood brothers could ever be, then you owe that boy an answer. Though I will have to give it to him in one of the heavens.”

  They were all silent for a moment as they waited for Tang to say more. When he finally did he told them of his lost friend, a boy named Naun-Bu. They had come to Key-Tar-Om together, worn the green and the red together, and had even worn silver in cells next to each other. Naun-Bu was an odd-boy, and Tang claimed they shared every bit of knowledge either of them were taught.

  “In the end I couldn’t keep up,” Tang admitted. “I had my studies plus his, and we both knew his were the purer ones. The prime path…the dragon path.”

  “What happened to him?” Rish asked.

  “He was one of the three!” Tang said proudly with several nods of his head. “The best of the three!” he added boastfully.

  “Did a girl get chosen?” Bose asked, which seemed like a good question to Ich-Mek.

  “Girls never get chosen!” Tang snapped. “Not since there has been a true empress – a thousand years, maybe.” Tang looked sad, and then with hands apart said, “No…no one was chosen.”

  “Did the palace-mages come?” Ich-Mek ventured as his heart began to race again.

  “They did…which is rare, you know!” Tang assured them in a slightly more upbeat tone. “Most of the time they don’t bother to come. Just leave the dragon-students sitting there waiting for…the dragon.” His voice trailed off to a whisper as he said the last part.

  “The dragon?” Ich-Mek asked in confusion. “Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

  Tang seemed to be chuckling for a moment. Then they realized he was sobbing. “The dragon came for Naun-Bu…” he cried, “…and now I live in this gods-cursed cave alone!”

  Chapter 5

  The mist circled over the highest buildings of Key-Tar-Om School. These were buildings few students were allowed to approach, least not once they had been inducted into the school. High clouds seemed to reach down to feed the mist, and shapes could be seen by those searching hard for them.

  The coming of the dragon-cloud marked the mid-year and promised a fortuitous end to the fourteen-year cycle. It was said that if it didn’t come, or came thin and transparent, that this meant the palace-mages wouldn’t come at the end of the cycle; without their presence no student could be elevated to the position of Emperor’s mage.

  “I do see shapes,” Rish announced as he stared up at Apa-Ton, the Mountain of the Mage, which also was shrouded now in mist.

  “I don’t look anymore,” Bose replied apathetically.

  Ich-Mek took a moment to look, for his friend’s sake. He was never really su
re he had seen the shapes of dragons, which were said to parade around in the cloud. Others claimed to, and since childhood he had mostly gone along with the assumption.

  It was getting cold as the sun had nearly set, and here, high in the mountains, winter seemed on its way. “We haven’t climbed it yet,” Ich-Mek reminded them.

  “On the last day, maybe,” Bose suggested.

  The three of them had long ago promised that together they would make the long trek up the endless stairs that led to the shrine atop Apa-Ton. It was forbidden to students, but they had always thought that someday they would be allowed to go. Bose had always been the one most willing to do it, though he hadn’t mentioned it in some time.

  “You shouldn’t get too close to the cloud, I think,” Rish said as he looked apologetically toward Ich-Mek.

  A chill ran up Ich-Mek’s back as he thought about the reason for the comment. His friend was fearful the dragons would recognize him as a dragon-student and save themselves the trouble of having to come for him later.

  “You got time for some alchemy?” Bose suddenly asked.

  Ich-Mek lowered his head. He was exhausted with the subject, not just because Bose had needed help with it, but because he was also tasked with a long and difficult course on all things alchemy-related.

  “Up all night again?” Bose asked in sympathy.

  Ich-Mek nodded his head. “Master Ing sleeps there…and he can smell if I’m doing it right or wrong.”

  Bose chuckled for a moment. “My master falls asleep. Sometimes we have to wake him when things go wrong.”

  “Glad I don’t have to do anymore alchemy,” Rish chimed in. “Haven’t done any since the first re-ordering. Don’t know why we spent all that time memorizing alchemy stuff.”

  Ich-Mek thought back to the endless hours they had spent doing it as greens. Each student got to handle a common piece of alchemy equipment for a moment before having to pass it on to the next student. Then they would be tested on its name and purpose, and the size, and sometimes the shape. Rarely did they ever see the more than two-hundred copper tubes, glassware, and other items in use, until they had worn the silver. For Rish, that time had never come.