Forest of Illusions (The Broken Prism)

by V. St. Clair

  “Has he always talked to himself like that?” Conner’s voice broke his train of thought, and Hayden’s eyes flew open to find all three of his roommates staring at him.

  “Sometimes he mutters when he thinks no one is listening,” Zane put in cheerfully.

  Hayden got to his feet and said, “Sorry, I didn’t know if you all were coming back this year, since term starts tomorrow morning and none of you saw fit to return before now.” He made a face at them.

  “Yeah, well no sense in spending more time here than necessary,” Tamon shrugged and settled his boa constrictor into its tank. “We spend most of the year here anyway.”

  “So why are you cursing yourself for a fool this time?” Zane changed the subject, taking a seat on his bed and patting Felix the fox absentmindedly.

  Hayden scowled and said, “Nothing worth mentioning.”

  “Oh yeah, did you get to go to your dad’s estate during the break?” Conner asked excitedly, and Hayden seized on the subject gratefully and described his tour to them in as much detail as he could remember. The only part he left out was that he and Bonk had discovered two of the Dark Prism’s artifacts while there.

  “Whoa, sounds like an awesome place,” Tamon grinned. “If they ever clear out all your dad’s old traps and stuff, you could actually reopen the manor. You’d be my first friend ever to live in a Great House, and I would expect to be invited over often.”

  “A Great House?” Hayden raised an eyebrow at that. He’d heard the term before, but something about the way Tamon said it implied that it was more than just a description of a really cool house, like it was a proper title.

  “Yeah, you know…one of the mage families that’s important enough or rich enough to get an estate, though there are some people in the non-magical community that make enough money to have one built as well. We don’t call those Great Houses though; that’s reserved for mage families.”

  “The Frosts have been known for their magic for centuries, except for your grandfather. I think he was the first one in like, a bazillion years not to be magically-inclined, and he started that booming apothecary business anyway and became the richest of them all out of spite,” Zane added.

  “Oh, I see.” Hayden nodded. “Now that I think about it, I’m sure I’ve heard that term thrown around a few times, I just never really gave it much thought since it didn’t apply to me.”

  Conner smirked and said, “Yeah, well now it does. So, when are you planning to have us over for a party?”

  Hayden rolled his eyes. “Given that I’m not even allowed into the place without an escort, probably not anytime soon.”

  “That’s cool, I can wait,” Zane grinned. “As long as you don’t invite the Trouts, in which case I’ll have to stop being your friend forever. Fair warning.”

  “Deal,” Hayden agreed readily.

  His friends continued their discussion about Great Houses and mage lineage for most of the evening, but Hayden was only half-listening and eventually feigned tiredness so he could go to bed early. As usual, he had so much on his mind that it took him a long time to fall asleep, his thoughts occupied by sorcerer siglas, the onyx prism, and Tess.

  His first class the next day was Elixirs. Master Kilgore congratulated him for making it to the level-three class this term, given how much he had struggled with the subject during his last two years. Unfortunately, Hayden didn’t make a very good showing for himself on the first day, distracted by thoughts of his next class: Abnormal Magic.

  He had no idea what to expect from Abnormal Magic, or Master Laurren, who taught it, but as soon as Elixirs ended he approached Master Kilgore to ask for directions to the classroom.

  “You seemed distracted today, Frost,” the Master greeted him gruffly. “I expect better focus from you in the future.”

  “Sorry sir, I’ve just been thinking about my next lesson…” he trailed off, holding up the sheet of paper with his schedule written on it, “…only I’m not sure where it is. My other classes all have room numbers listed beside them, but this one just has the letter ‘B’.”

  Master Kilgore smirked and said, “It’s in the basement,” like that was obvious.

  Alarmed, Hayden blurted out, “We have a basement? How could I be here for two years and not know that?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that, Frost?” Kilgore raised a bushy red eyebrow at him.

  “Probably not, sir,” Hayden mumbled. “Um, so how do I get to the basement?”

  “Out the back doors, near the place where Reede teaches Conjury. There’s a set of doors in the ground. Now off with you; I need to prepare for my next lesson.” He made a shooing motion to emphasize the point.

  Hayden left at a jog, not wanting to be late for his first day in a new class, but still baffled that he could have missed the fact that Mizzenwald had a basement after going to class here for two years.

  He passed a group of level-fives headed to Conjury on the lawns and stopped in the middle of the freshly-mown grass, turning in a circle and looking for a door. To his surprise, it was in plain sight. He had always taken for granted that the two doors leading underground along the edge of the castle went to a cellar, never wondering why a place like Mizzenwald would need a cellar in the first place since they didn’t drink wine at meals. Now he hurried to them and tugged on the handles. They opened easily.

  He descended a surprisingly wide, well-lit stairwell, and followed the only hallway at the base of it. Expecting something cavernous and dark, it was startling to see that this space looked just like the rest of the school, with wooden floors and wall paneling. If he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t even guess he was underground.

  He passed an office that was open and a door that was closed before coming to the end of the hall and entering the classroom for Abnormal Magic.

  The classroom was laid out differently than he expected: the desks were all shoved back against the walls, leaving the entire floor space clear. What appeared to be a fire-pit was in the exact center of the space, and the walls were adorned with strange artwork and scrolls. Upon closer inspection, Hayden saw that many of the flattened scrolls were either written in languages he couldn’t read or covered in calculations that didn’t make sense to him.

  Immediately interested, he took a vacant seat along the wall to his left, beneath a painting of a man with blue skin. There were about thirty seats in the room, but only half of them were filled by the time Master Laurren entered and called the class to order.

  “Welcome to the introductory-level of Abnormal Magic,” he greeted them pleasantly.

  Looking at him now, Hayden was reminded of how the man seemed to have an unusual aura about him: the strange, purple-blue color of his eyes; the way his pale skin almost glowed in contrast to his black hair and metallic green robes. Something about Laurren made Hayden believe that he was capable of extraordinary power, despite the fact that Hayden had never even seen him use magic before.

  “Each of you is in this class for a reason; for some of you this is your second or third attempt at it. For the newcomers, let me explain that this class will not be like your other lessons. We are exploring an area of magic that is not understood. It is unquantifiable and vague at best. The sooner you adjust to the fact that you may never learn the answers to any of the questions you ask, the better you’ll do.”

  A few of Hayden’s classmates looked alarmed by this and one of them raised his hand and said, “Excuse me, sir. But why do we teach a class that has no answers?”

  Master Laurren smirked and opened his hands to the others. “Would anyone like to venture a guess?”

  No one volunteered, and they spent almost an entire minute in awkward silence before the Master said, “We aren’t moving on until one of you brave souls thinks of an answer. That’s another thing to remember about my class—I value participation.”

  Frowning, Hayden raised his hand slowly and waited to be called on.

  “Yes, Hayden? Can you tell the class why Mizzenwald p
ays me an exorbitant amount of money to teach a class about questions that have no answers?”

  “Because there are answers—there’s always an answer. Things don’t happen randomly, we just aren’t smart enough to understand things yet. If we don’t pass the knowledge we do have on, then it gets lost, and we’ll never figure things out.”

  “A fine point,” Master Laurren acknowledged with a nod. “Ten points to you for manning up and answering my question.” He looked around the room. “We teach this class at Mizzenwald because, as ever, we are trying to find the next great mind that will make the next great discovery in the world of magic. We’re prepared to invest time and money into educating hundreds of you, uselessly, in the hopes of finding the one person who earns their keep and makes it all worth it.”

  Some of Hayden’s classmates looked offended at being called a wasted investment, but Hayden saw only the challenge to prove himself.

  “Now, some of you might be wondering why I teach this class underground when there are plenty of spare rooms in the main castle. The answers is two-fold: first, being immersed in the ground makes some types of magic easier, closer to the core of the world and all that; secondly, there is a tiny chance of something going horribly wrong in here and the room exploding. If that happens, being underground will prevent the rest of the school from absorbing most of the shock from the blast. And no, I’m not joking when I tell you this,” he added calmly before anyone could ask.

  “Any other questions before we begin?”

  The room was eerily silent as they all absorbed this information. Hayden was trying not to imagine what sort of condition he would be in if the room exploded with him in it. Master Laurren obviously took their silence for assent and began the lesson.

  “Hayden, since you answered your classmate’s question earlier, the first thing I’ll show you will be of interest to you as a prism-user.” He moved behind his desk and extracted what looked like a clear sheet of glass no larger than a window pane, carrying it by the edges to the middle of the room. Standing it upright, he set it to one side of the fire-pit and let go. Hayden expected the panel to fall to the ground and shatter, but somehow it remained standing balanced on its end, as if there was an imaginary frame holding it up. Master Laurren stepped away from it and gestured to the pane of glass.

  “This is an extremely expensive piece of equipment called an Absorber, so named because it absorbs magic that is cast at it,” he explained to the class. “Hayden, draw one of your prisms and cast any spell at the Absorber.”

  Surprised but curious, Hayden drew his clear prism and cast Stop at the transparent panel, tensing in preparation for the unknown.

  Nothing happened.

  Master Laurren didn’t look surprised. “Try one of your tinted prisms.”

  Hayden switched to his blue-tinted prism and cast Sleep. A few people gasped as a splotch of blue color hit the Absorber. It looked like he’d flung blue goo at it, and he expected the stuff to slide down the glass to the floor, but once again he was surprised when it remained intact.

  “Clear prism, clear magical imprint. Blue prism, blue magical imprint,” Laurren said gently. “What do you suppose would happen if you tried your rose-tinted or amber prisms?”

  “Rose-tinted or amber goo on the Absorber,” Hayden answered automatically, and the Master nodded affirmation.

  “Now try your violet prism.”

  Hayden raised an eyebrow and said, “I haven’t been cleared to carry and use violet prisms yet, sir.”

  Frowning thoughtfully, Master Laurren went to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a half-depleted violet prism, dusting it off on his robes.

  “Use this one, for demonstration purposes. You should be able to see most of your normal spells within it, so stick with something familiar.”

  Interested by the new prism, Hayden took it in his hand and fit it into the eyepiece of his circlet, turning toward the light and twisting it slowly. There were many more arrays in this prism than in any he’d used before, and the effect was a little dizzying and gave him a mild headache. Within a minute he’d located the Slow alignment, and cast it at the Absorber like he had with the others. The goo on the Absorber turned green.

  A few people made noises of interest, and Hayden raised the eyepiece so he could see normally.

  “It’s green,” he stated bluntly, “not violet.”

  “Try again. Same spell,” Master Laurren coached him, and Hayden did as he was told, casting Slow once more. This time the glass turned orange.

  “Why is it doing that?” A fourth-year girl raised her hand. “It should be purple, especially if he cast the same spell twice through the same prism.”

  Master Laurren said, “I have no idea why it doesn’t work with violet prisms, but it doesn’t. The ‘goo’—as Hayden calls it—is a visible representation of the magic being cast, which as you know is normally impossible for us to see. You typically only see the effects of the spells you cast, not the magic behind it, which is what makes the Absorber useful. Every colored prism produces magic in that same color, with the exception of violet, which utilizes every color of the rainbow.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Hayden mused out loud. “Violet is a defined color, so it should only be casting violet light. The clear prism should be the one throwing off all different colors since it’s the only one that allows all light to pass through it without tinting effects.”

  “And yet…” Master Laurren gestured at the Absorber again. “This is believed to be the reason why violet prisms are capable of casting most spells that are visible in other prisms, but as Hayden says, one would expect the clear prism to have that honor. Prism-users who are interested in research almost always try to solve that mystery at some point in their career, though not a lot of advancements have been made in the last hundred years.”

  He shrugged as though it was a matter of no importance and said, “Now, take out your writing supplies and we’ll discuss the many properties of the Absorber, and how it is used to help us better understand magic…”

  By the time he got through his morning classes, Hayden’s head was swimming with new information. Elixirs would probably prove to be every bit as difficult as it was last year, Abnormal Magic was strangely fascinating but frustrating, and they had even begun crafting their own emblems in Charms now (though Hayden discovered he was a terrible woodcarver).

  He dropped heavily onto the wooden bench beside his friends in the dining hall and let his bag hit the floor with a thud, grabbing every plate within reach and filling his own.

  “Rough morning?” Conner ventured after watching him spoon four scoops of mashed potatoes onto his plate and drown them in gravy.

  “Just information overload. It happens every year during the first week, like my brain forgets how to learn while I’m on holiday.” Hayden shrugged, piling strips of beef onto his mountain of potatoes and gravy.

  Zane snorted in amusement and said, “He’s lying, Conner. He looks confused most of the time, whether we’ve been on holiday or not.”

  Hayden tossed a roll at his head but his friend caught it in one hand and took a satisfied bite.

  “At least there’s no I.S.C. this year,” Tess put in helpfully. Hayden couldn’t help but notice that her loose blond curls were pulled back into a high ponytail today, and that it made the angles of her face stand out more. “Not that they’d do it this year with a war going on, but at least you don’t have to worry about the possibility.”

  “True,” Hayden answered, forcing himself to blink and look away from Tess’s face before he creeped her out with his staring. “My goal is to get through the entire year without having to visit the infirmary once.”

  “You should also try to avoid being bodily carried to your bed because you’re so banged up that you can’t walk on your own,” Zane put in. “You’re getting kind of heavy and I’m not sure I can lift you anymore without throwing my back out.”

  The others laughed at that.

&n
bsp; “Speaking of goals for the year…” Zane continued, “It’s the first week of school; you know what that means?” He didn’t pause to wait for a response. “New challenge team groups. We can finally get rid of that snot, Lorn.”

  “Good,” Tamon said with an eye-roll, “because I’m tired of listening to you all complain about what an obnoxious toad he is all the time.”

  Hayden couldn’t speak, owing to a hefty spoonful of food he had just shoved in his mouth and was in danger of choking on, but he stared down at his plate thoughtfully until his airways were clear.

  “I don’t know…” he answered at last. “I don’t like him any more than the rest of you, but he did prove useful a few times last year,” he admitted grudgingly.

  Zane looked at him as though he’d just lost his mind in a dangerous way.

  “Are you kidding me? You can’t possibly want that brat on our team again this year. He still calls you the Broken Prism behind your back to make fun of you.”

  Hayden shrugged and said, “He says it to my face, too. If that’s the worst I have to endure this year then my life has improved significantly.” He smirked humorlessly. “I’m just saying, we did pretty well in the rosters last year, partly because of him.”

  “We could find another Powder major without too much trouble though,” Zane argued around a mouthful of peas. “Heck, Tess is a dual major for crying out loud, one of them in Powders.”

  Tess was watching the two of them in silence, her eyes narrowed slightly in deep thought. When Hayden met her gaze she obviously felt compelled to speak, and said, “If Hayden wants another Powder major then that’s what we’ll get. He’s our group leader, and we’ve always come through the rankings well under his leadership. Besides, having a Powder on the team lets me focus more heavily on Elixirs in our arenas, which has been a big help in the past.”

  Zane frowned and said, “Fine, another Powder major then. Just not anyone whose last name is Trout.”

  Hayden shook his head and said, “I think I want it to be Lorn.” For some reason his friends’ doubts made him all the more certain.