Ascension of the Whyte

by Karen Wrighton

Sloley’.”

  Ash arched his eyebrows at Lee. “What do you think?”

  “I think that the method that you three use to work your way towards a conclusion is truly fascinating,” said Lee pensively. “I have no idea how you could possibly generate a hypothesis originating from so many different presumptions. Most of them appear to be based on nothing more than intuition, and yet you still manage to come up with a premise that actually sounds logical.”

  Ash frowned, looking at Auriel pleadingly “translate that will you?”

  Auriel laughed, “He agrees with us Ash.”

  “He does?” Said Ash “That’s great, so what are we waiting for then?”

  Lee stretched out his arm and pointed his ringed finger at the cauldron.

  “After three then; ready?”

  Taking his lead, they stood around the small cauldron, their ringed fingers pointing towards the simmering liquid.

  “One….two…. three” Lee counted.

  On three, he dropped the small red pellet into the cauldron as in unison they cast the Singularis charm. Coloured sparks of light shot from their glowing potens stones. The orange liquid in the cauldron flashed brilliant yellow and then bright emerald green, as a small mushroom of orange smoke rose and then dissipated into the air above the pot.  They stared at each other, aghast with awe and pride.

  “I think we actually did it!” said Ash, punching Lee playfully on the arm.

  Grinning broadly, Ash winked at the group of Bloods who were glaring at the four of them and trying hard to conceal the looks of grudging admiration on their faces. Rose, however, was frowning, looking down at her ring she rubbed at it furiously with her fingers.

  “What’s up?” asked Ash.

  “My ring; it didn’t spark like yours, it hardly even glowed, well not much more than it is now. How can I be of any use to anyone if I can’t even get my ring to work? Maybe Lee is right, maybe all this is just one big mistake. I am just one big mistake.”

  Ash’s voice softened “Does it really matter Rose? Whether you are a giant mistake or some kind of super wizard? Surely it’s who you are that is important, not what you are, and anyway, I think you’re alright… even if we’re not... all Whyte.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “Ash,” she said, “That is really, awful; even for you.”

  Ash bent closer “Yeah I know, but it made you laugh though.  Rose, if this is really getting to you then maybe you should talk to Lord Dux about it like Lady Tesler said.”

  “Yes,” she said, “I think I’ll have to.”

  Lord De Lille came over to their bench to check their brew. He dipped a small strip of paper into the cauldron, removed it, and then waved it briefly in front of his nostrils. Drawing some of the liquid up into a small glass pipette, he examined it in the light from a small window.  

  “Well done you four,” he said, sounding impressed. “This looks superb, but we shall see.  You’ll need to decant it into one of those phials.”

  At that moment, there was a deafening explosion at the Mud bench. Thick black smoke rose in billowing swirls from their cauldron. It cleared swiftly to reveal four blackened faces, each pair of white eyes smarting as they spilt out painful tears, which ran down their faces and left honey coloured streaks on their sooty cheeks.

  “Hmmm” De Lille muttered shaking his head as he took in the sight of the blackened cauldron and singed haired, soot faced, Muds. “A little less enthusiasm and a bit more control in future, Lady Tamarix.”

  The young mud girl’s face reddened under its black mask, her eyes brimming once more.

  “It’s ok Tammy,” said Rowan, putting an arm around her shoulder. His jaw tightened as he looked over towards the Whyte cell and then at the loris. “I reckon they’re nasty little critters anyway. I mean with their poisonous teeth and all.”

  Tamarix smiled weakly. “Thanks, Rowan, but I’d hoped we would have a chance to find that out for ourselves and anyway, he looks so cute.”

  When all of the cells had decanted their charms into a phial, Lord De Lille asked each of the Alchemists to bring them to the front. In turn, he took out the stoppers and poured some of each of the potions onto an appropriately coloured ribbon for each of the casts.  Draping the ribbons around the neck of each cell’s Alchemist, De Lille had them line up at the front of his bench. Then, opening the bamboo gate with a flourish, he released the loris from its cage.

  Sloley sidled across the bench towards the first alchemist, Tamarix. Without hesitation, he jumped up onto her chest, grasping at her robe and pulling himself up onto her shoulder. Sniffing at the congealed black stain on her ribbon, he was instantly overcome by a series of violent sneezes. Rubbing his snout vigorously he leapt onto the shoulders of the Blood Alchemist, Tor-El-Van, resting there only briefly before moving on to Joel, the Gold cell’s Alchemist. Again he was there barely a second before the aroma of Lee’s charm drew him toward the Whyte cell’s young Blood. Leaping onto Lee’s shoulder, the loris released a stream of joyful chirps and clicks before nestling into his neck, rubbing his face against Lee’s cheek and purring loudly.

  “It would appear that our loris has made its choice.” Said De Lille “Well done the Whyte cell. You evidently work very well as a team and now you have a fifth member.”

  He clapped his hands together applauding loudly.  The other novices joined De Lille in polite applause, though some appeared less than enthusiastic, Rowan’s hand clap in particular, was sloth-like. He turned to the rest of the Muds, a sardonic smile adorning his face.

  “Don’t worry guys, those ‘not-quite Whytes’ won’t have it all their own way. We’ll thrash them next time.”

  Tor-El-Van the Blood’s Alchemist overheard him and nodded his head in agreement. 

  “If those not-quites had not had a Blood Alchemist in their cell, they would not have won,” he said, his voice low, “ The loris rightfully should have been ours. Neh-ke-ta, our Advocate, told us that the Blood cell always wins the loris. She also said that they shouldn’t be allowed to study at the Oratory, as they are not a pure cast cell. Their being here undermines centuries of tradition and she was right, already they are changing things. They will ruin everything.”

  As the midday bell chimed, Lee glanced down at the small furry creature nestling contentedly into his shoulder, and he smiled.

   

   

 

  COALESCENCE

   

  Rose was to have lunch with Lord Dux at noon.  His rooms were accessed from an ornate marble corridor off the Atrium. They included a bed chamber, a sitting room and a small office in which every possible surface was buried under a pile of books and manuscripts.  Dux was waiting for her in his comfortably furnished sitting room which, Rose noted as she entered; smelled pleasantly of old leather, candle wax and sweet confectionary.

  “Rose, my dear,” he said, rising and motioning to a comfortable looking couch next to a small table which was laden with all manner of cakes, pastries, breads, cheeses and fruits. “Please take a seat, help yourself to some food and then we can discuss your day.” 

  “Thank you,” said Rose, perching awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, “but I’m really not hungry." Though her nausea had lessened, she still could not face anything to eat.

  “Ah,” said Dux knowingly, “things are not going too well eh? Worry and stress always seem to upset my stomach too. Still I always find that a few sweet pastries make everything seem so much better.  I can particularly recommend the purple creams; they are a favourite of mine” He popped one of the small sugary pastries into his mouth, devouring it with a murmur of satisfaction.

  Rose smiled politely, but her stomach churned and growled in discontent.

  “I don’t think I could eat a thing,” she said, realising for the first time how overwhelmed she was feeling “I don’t think I should even be here at all. I can’t use my potentia like the others; in fact I doubt a native could do any worse. I feel as if I have no
potens whatsoever, the Sooth must have got it wrong. Lee is right; I am just some sort of mistake of the process. Even my potens ring won’t work for me.”

   “My dear child,” he said, with a sympathetic sigh. “Firstly, though the Sooth’s words may be open to interpretation, he is never wrong. Secondly, potens rings are merely a channel your potentia, they cannot fail to ‘work’ as you put it.  If your potentia is strong, then the ring has no option but to channel it, just as a gutter channels a torrent of rain, when it merely absorbs the morning dew.”

  He sat opposite her, enveloped in a large comfortable looking chair and regarded her steadily through kind eyes that creased at the edges. Pensively and softly, almost as if talking to himself, he muttered.

   “So your potentia must be very frail indeed. Mmmm, I had been afraid that would be the case."

   A thought appeared to strike him. He bent forward, took her hands in his and peered deeply into her eyes.

  "Tell me Rose” he said, “did you dream last night?”

  She remembered the fearful dream of the previous night and began to describe it in vivid detail. As she described the four Whyte descendants a look of enlightenment lit Dux’s face. His grip on her hands tightened.

   "Did they ask anything of you?”

  His voice held an urgency which unsettled her briefly, but she took a breath and answered calmly.

  “They asked me to join them,” she said.

  “Can you remember the exact words they used? The exact words,” he