by V. St. Clair
12
The Opalline Medallion
The Council members were wearing their formal robes, and their presence caused quite a stir amongst the student population, most of whom had never seen its members in person before.
“What the heck is going on?” Tamon asked quietly under the low-level sounds of other students whispering excitedly about this turn of events.
“No idea,” Hayden answered truthfully, watching the strange group closely as they settled themselves on the raised platform at the back of the hall. He looked to the other Masters, most of whom seemed as surprised by this visit as everyone else, though few of them looked pleased by it.
The Chief Mage, Calahan, said something to Master Graus, who was still attempting to produce furniture to accommodate the new group, and the Master drew another scripture and created a podium for Calahan to stand behind before moving out of the way to lean against the wall and watch.
“Hello, students and faculty of Mizzenwald,” the Chief Mage addressed them, looking around the room with a warm smile. “I’m sorry for this sudden interruption in your normal schedule, but it’s been a very busy year for my colleagues and I, and we’ve been running behind on some of the more rewarding aspects of our jobs. Today I hope to rectify this lapse, and I ask all of you to join us in formally recognizing a very talented mage who sits among you.” He paused only for a moment before adding, “Hayden Frost, would you come up here please?”
All heads turned in his direction, but Hayden felt like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. If he had eaten more food, he would have probably vomited from the sudden force of it. For a moment he sat there in stunned silence, trying to puzzle out the meaning of this.
“It’s alright, Hayden, come on up here…” Calahan reassured him gently, giving him a fond smile that Hayden had never seen on the man’s face before.
Swallowing a lump of unease, Hayden got to his feet and walked slowly to the join him on the platform, not knowing what else to do. His body felt strangely numb as he moved, like he was disconnected from his limbs and they were simply acting on their own accord. He kept his expression neutral, not wanting to react visibly until he understood what was happening and why.
When he made the step up onto the elevated platform and turned to face the room, he felt his face reddening at all of the eyes that were focused on him. Still silently trying to figure out what was going on, he looked to Masters Asher and Laurren, who were standing beside each other against one wall; both of them were frowning.
Calahan spoke again.
“We’re here today to recognize your excellent work and heroism, Hayden—to honor you for all you have done for Junir and the rest of the Nine Lands—” Calahan told him, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“I already got a Medal of Heroism,” Hayden interrupted, growing more and more uneasy by the minute.
This is all wrong….Why is he smiling like he’s happy to see me? Calahan hates me…
“Yes, but that came from the High Mayor,” Calahan explained patiently. “The Council has its own symbol of recognition.” He and most of the other Council members were still smiling, though Hayden noticed that Magdalene Trout was wearing the same neutral expression as her oldest son.
Oliver knew this was coming. His mother must have warned him, and he was trying to do me a favor by keeping me away from this…
Before he could even figure out how he felt about that, Calahan continued.
“So young, and yet you’ve already accomplished more than most mages manage in their entire lives. You slew a fully-grown dragon at the age of twelve and saved the town of Calypso from losing any more of its citizens.”
“Bonk and Zane—” Hayden tried to interject, but Calahan spoke over him.
“You won the Golden Prism at the age of thirteen in the Inter-School Championship—against other natural prism-users with vastly more experience with their craft. You’ve slain a number of monsters since then to defend the people of Junir, without asking for any form of compensation or recognition. You single-handedly turned the war in our favor just last year, saving countless lives and preventing a full-scale invasion of the Nine Lands.”
He was listing everything Hayden had ever done that could be even remotely construed as noble, and for some reason it terrified him more than if Calahan had been shouting threats at him. The family Hayden had never seen before looked more and more awed by him with every word, and the little girl was almost crying with joy.
Who are those people?
Conversely, the Masters were looking progressively more grim as Calahan continued his speech. Kilgore was scowling openly, Willow and Reede looked completely expressionless, and Asher could have been carved from marble he was standing so still.
“Now you help guard the entrance to one of the largest schisms on the continent, and while under attack by a seven-headed hydra, you managed to rescue your teammate while slaying the monster—”
“Master Graus—” Hayden tried to interrupt again, and once again he was ignored.
Of course, we have always known you would be great—your illustrious bloodlines demand it,” Calahan acknowledged, still smiling at Hayden like he had never been prouder of anything in his entire life.
Hayden was terrified.
“The Frost family has traditionally produced outstanding mages, and you—the last scion of one of our oldest Great Houses—are clearly continuing that trend.”
This is the man who has hated and feared me for being related to Aleric Frost for the last five years…and now he’s proud of my bloodlines?
Something was definitely wrong, but still he had no idea what was happening or what he could possibly do to stop it, so Hayden continued to stand there like a wax statue and watch things unfold.
“And now, even with three-inch Focus-correctors on each arm, you are widely known to have one of the most powerful Sources we have seen in this generation. For all of this, it is my very great pleasure to present you with the first Opalline Medallion to be awarded in thirty years.”
He withdrew a long golden chain from his robes amidst gasps from the crowd. At the end of the thick, heavy-looking necklace was a polished opal the size of Hayden’s fist, set on a gold backing with thin bands of wire that held the opal in place. Master Laurren exchanged a glance with Master Willow during the sudden outburst of noise, though Hayden couldn’t read anything from their expressions except that they were quite unhappy with whatever was happening.
Hayden was stricken with the sudden, overwhelming knowledge that he didn’t want this rare honor, and that if he let them put the stupid thing around his neck, something bad was going to happen.
Panicking, he blurted out, “Please, sir—I really don’t deserve this kind of recognition,” as the room fell silent again. “I had help on most of the things you’re rewarding me for, so really those people are the ones who—”
“So humble and modest,” Calahan cut him off, resting a hand on his shoulder that squeezed him a little too tightly, as though to say, Stop ruining my evil plans! “But there is no question of you deserving the Opalline Medallion—it was a unanimous decision amongst the Council, seconded by the High Mayor himself.”
Hayden looked briefly at the High Mayor, who inclined his head slightly when mentioned, but otherwise remained neutral.
Unable to think of a good way to stop it—short of running from the room screaming like a lunatic—Hayden was forced to stand there and let Calahan drape the chain around his neck, feeling the enormous opal rest against his chest. He was right—it was heavy.
“You have always acted for the good of mage-kind, Hayden, even when we have had our personal disagreements,” Calahan said it like they were old friends who occasionally argued over minutia. “For that you have my everlasting respect and admiration. And now, I hope you will help us once again.”
Finally understanding, Hayden’s heart began racing in his chest as he thought, No!
He should have run out of
the room screaming like a lunatic when he had the chance—maybe that would spoil the whole ‘hero’ thing and prevent Calahan from continuing.
“The last team we sent into the schism to seal it was led by a brave young lady named Delauria Hersh. It grieves me to say that Delauria and her escorts have not been seen since, though her family and we Council members continue to hold onto the hope that she is still alive somewhere inside the other realm.”
Oh no…please tell me that family behind us isn’t—
“We’ve found two more brave non-magic users who are willing to enter the schism and do their duty to Junir by guarding the mage who will seal the aperture and save us from what is on the other side. All we need is a leader, a mage with incredible power and bravery, who is willing to venture into the aperture and do what no one else has been able to—and to recover DeLauria and her team if at all possible.”
They had set him up, outmaneuvered him so that there was no possible way for him to turn them down without looking like a selfish jerk in front of everyone he knew: the entire student body of Mizzenwald, the Masters he respected, the High Mayor himself and the Council of Mages, and poor Delauria’s family. And still, Hayden would have turned him down flat and shamed himself publicly if the nine-year old girl hadn’t taken that moment to stand up and say, “Please, sir—will you please save my sister?”
Master Asher closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, the first sign of movement Hayden had seen from his mentor during this entire spectacle. When he opened his eyes and met Hayden’s gaze, it was with the look of a man who was preparing to say goodbye.
He knows I can’t say no, that they’ve finally cornered me, and that I’m probably going to die in that schism.
Tess had her hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes, and Zane looked oddly colorless. They knew what he was going to do, and that they would probably never see him again.
Swallowing a lump of emotion, Hayden kept his expression calm and composed when he said, “I’ll do my best.”
The little girl ran up and hugged him as the room burst into applause. Most of the school clearly believed he was larger than life and could find a way through any challenge that came his way.
I’m being sent to my death, and they’re all clapping…
Not everyone was applauding, of course. Tess, Zane, Tamon, and Conner looked miserable. Oliver and Lorn Trout also refrained from cheering—for whatever reason, and most of the Masters looked like they were contemplating murder.
“Excellent!” Calahan exclaimed, obviously relieved. “I knew we could count on you once again, Hayden. You and your team will leave tonight, after we hold a magnificent feast to send you off properly.”
Hayden couldn’t help but take an ominous view of the words ‘send you off’. It sounded very final to him.
I could very well die tonight.
He’d had the thought a few times before, but the only time he had really and truly believed it was likely was right before he and Oliver entered the Forest of Illusions last year to join the war. Even then, he had Oliver to help him, as well as Bonk and Slasher, and the entirety of his magical prowess at his disposal. Now he would be venturing into a place full of monsters, where no one could help him except for two strangers wielding knives; he didn’t even know if they were any good at using them. Not to mention that he wouldn’t be able to use a drop of magic except for the Closing spell—if he got that far—and he would be racing against time while rapidly going insane.
Lunch was dismissed soon after that, and the rest of the school was sent off to their fourth-period class. Hayden had no intention of spending his last hours of freedom taking notes, and instead went out to the front lawns to play ‘fetch’ with Bonk, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with his last hours of spare time.
Bonk flew after the rubber chew toy for a few minutes, but Hayden could tell that his familiar’s heart wasn’t in it, and soon the dragonling perched in his lap and made little whimpering noises, nuzzling Hayden with his head.
“It’ll be okay, Bonk. I’ve done loads of stupid, dangerous things before and I always make it out somehow. Besides, this is one instance where having the worst Foci in the history of mage-kind will actually be helpful. I should be able to withstand the distortion inside there for a long time—longer than anyone else who’s tried.”
Whether that’s twenty minutes or twenty hours remains to be seen…
He patted his familiar gently, wishing he could take him along. He would feel immeasurably better having Bonk with him, because even though he might be the weirdest magical creature in existence, there was no denying that the dragonling had freakishly powerful magic when the occasion called for it. But he knew he’d have to leave his familiar behind—he’d asked Asher months ago whether familiars could enter the schism and had been told that the place had even more terrifying effects on their magic than on a human’s. Also, Bonk wouldn’t be moping around right now if he knew he could come along and protect Hayden.
They weren’t outside for more than fifteen minutes when Fia Valay, of all people, joined them. Standing to prevent his suit from getting dirty, the Fia looked down at him with strange pity in his eyes and said, “I came along for a reason, you know.”
“Oh?” Hayden asked without real interest. “I assumed it was just as part of the dog-and-pony show that was designed to shame me into volunteering to die.”
The Fia pursed his lips in displeasure.
“I had no part in that fiasco, nor did the High Mayor, if that is any consolation. We were simply informed of what was happening, and he wanted to come along to see if you could be outmaneuvered or how you would handle things.”
“And why did you come with him?” Hayden asked heavily.
The Fia glanced around as though looking for a chair, and after not finding one, sat down on the grass beside Hayden.
“As the one who has been managing your estate for you, I noticed that you didn’t have any sort of Will and Testament on file, in the event of your demise. That’s not unusual, as you’re very young, but I’ve been meaning to bring it to your attention since you are in sole possession of an enormous number of assets and monies, and currently without family or heirs. Given what you’re about to do, I thought you might want to set things in order…just in case.”
“Oh,” Hayden said heavily. He hadn’t even thought about what would happen to all of his things if he died, though he supposed the Council would use it as an excuse to take control of everything again. It was a surprisingly thoughtful gesture on Fia Valay’s part to bring it to his attention, and to come all the way to Mizzenwald to do it.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he added slowly. “What all has to be decided? Please tell me I don’t have to look through all of my assets one line item at a time, or we’ll have to put off my excursion into the schism for weeks just to finish.”
Actually, that might not be so bad.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” the Fia replied. “Really you could do everything in broad categories: liquid assets like all the money in your various accounts, and non-liquid assets—your estate and controlling shares in the various legacy businesses you’ve inherited. You can further divide those categories as much or as little as you like.”
He had brought a notepad with him to record Hayden’s wishes. For a long moment Hayden simply stared at the blank page, feeling weary. Finally, after forcing his brain back into action, he spoke.
“Split all the money in half between Tess and Zane. They’ve been my friends even when that wasn’t a popular thing to be, and there’s no one else I can think of who deserves it more.” He sighed and closed his eyes.
“And the non-liquid assets?” Fia Valay prompted after a long moment of silence.
“Give it to Asher,” Hayden said decisively. The Fia raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, and he elaborated, “He’s the closest thing to family I’ve had since my mother died, and he has more fond memories of the house than anyone else w
ho’s still alive. I’d rather put him in charge of a Great House than see it fall into the Council’s hands; they won’t be able to outfox him, and it’ll give him status that he doesn’t have right now to fight against them.” And he would fight against them on Hayden’s behalf, he was sure of it. Asher wouldn’t rest until he’d buried all ten of the Council members—figuratively, or possibly literally—because that’s the kind of person he was.
The Fia nodded appreciatively and jotted down a few quick notes.
“Would you like to write any letters, to be handed out in the event you don’t return from your journey?”
Hayden shook his head immediately.
“I wouldn’t even know what to say. Besides, setting up my Will is something I should have done as soon as I took control of the Frost family fortunes; writing farewell letters is different. If I say goodbye, then I’m giving myself permission to die—and I fully intend to return from that stupid schism, if only to spite that useless sack of skin, Calahan.”
“As you like,” the Fia conceded, standing up and brushing the grass off of his pants. “I’ll draft this up on a formal document with all the proper crests and seals, and you can sign it in front of a witness of your choosing this evening.”
“Thanks,” Hayden said, also standing. Valay’s visit had pulled him from his stupor and engaged his brain again. There were things he needed to do before disappearing into the schism tonight.
They walked back to the school together in silence and parted ways in the pentagonal foyer, with Valay walking up the eastern stairwell to the second floor while Hayden ventured through the school to the Prism Master’s office. He took a breath and knocked on the door, opening it without waiting for a response.
Asher was sitting in his usual chair at the large table they shared as a workspace, elbows on the table with his hands covering his face. He snapped to attention at the sound of the door opening, and quickly affected his usual relaxed posture.
“Ah, good, I was hoping you’d stop by before the feast tonight,” he said ‘feast’ like it was a nasty disease, withdrawing something from his robes and tossing it to Hayden, who caught it in mid-air.
