by Stas Borodin
I shook violently, feeling my legs turning to jelly. I remembered how the same flame had burned down the fleeing Zontrakian soldiers who were desperately trying to escape the fiery breath of the Dragon of Lieh.
Chapter 2
The first lecture I attended was given by Master Erbin. He looked ancient but sturdy like an old oak. I had noticed that among the wizards there were no decrepit old men; they all were healthy and of enviable vigour.
The audience appeared to be pretty small; the room could hold no more than fifty students at a time. It was built like an amphitheatre, with a lectern in its centre.
I made my way to the very top, away from the other students’ eyes. To my relief, I hadn’t spotted any Blockheads yet, just the Elite, and a dozen Scholars. They were sitting there, oblivious to my presence, casually discussing some incomprehensible things using utterly unintelligible words. I was slightly upset and prepared myself for the lecturer’s words to be the incomprehensible gibberish too.
Master Erbin took his place, slowly planted silver-rimmed glasses on his long nose, and inspected the crowd. My presence didn’t escape his attention.
“Greetings to you, my dear friends.” His voice sounded strong and deep. “I see that my usual audience has gathered, and, surprisingly, even a few newcomers.
“I’m afraid that for newcomers, not all will be clear, so I will make a short digression to cover the topic as fully as possible. For you, my regular students, it will also be a good opportunity to take a quick look back and see whether you have missed something important.”
I cringed, realizing that the digression was being made especially for me. I took a pencil and a stack of paper out of my bag and made myself ready.
“We’ve been studying the nature of the Gift for a long time,” the wizard began. “But we still don’t know why it manifests in a certain person, or who gives it to us and why. One thing we know for sure is that the Gift imposes a certain responsibility on its bearer. A responsibility to ourselves and to society. A responsibility for how we use it. Should we choose to use our Gift for the common good, or for personal gain? It all depends, to a great extent, on our upbringing and the values that were instilled in us as children.
“This is a pretty complex issue; we have discussed its different aspects many times, but agree on only one thing – the Gift is not a present but a heavy burden that we must carry our whole lives, if we choose to become wizards.”
The students nodded in agreement.
“We ask ourselves,” Master Erbin continued, “why are we entrusted with such a responsibility? Are we better than others? Perhaps we are the Chosen Ones? I’d like it to be so, but it is not… We are far from perfect, but we should strive to be so! We should overcome our doubts and temptations, and at the end of our journey we need to find the right answer for ourselves. Are we ready to shoulder this heavy burden, or will we just shy away?”
One of the students raised his hand. “It has been proved that the Gift destroys its carrier if he violates certain laws. If he doesn’t use it to serve a higher purpose, he loses his mind and becomes a demon!”
“That is rather a beautiful metaphor,” Master Erbin nodded. “In fact, it’s all much more complex. He turns into a demon only in the eyes of society. Such unbound freedom and impunity degrade his very soul very quickly; he ceases to perceive reality adequately and loses his human self.
“Let us ask ourselves: What is the purpose of man? What are his moral standards? Is he trying to rise above others, violating the law? What are these laws? Why should he respect them? After all, the differences between some cultures and nations are so immense that it is impossible to compare their perceptions of morality. What is considered normal for us will be utterly unacceptable in different culture.”
“Does that mean that the Gift doesn’t care what purpose we serve?” another student asked. “Whether we follow Orvad or worship Mistar? We just have to believe with all our heart in the rightness of our cause.”
“Nonsense!” Master Erbin shook his head. “Some may agree with you, but I personally think that this is not the case. I believe that there is something common that is above all moral norms of different faiths and cultures. Something universal. Congenital, not instilled by education and upbringing.”
He pointed to a thick book lying on his desk. “Take, for example, newborn children of different nations and allow them to grow together without any outside interference. Not long ago we discussed the experiment conducted by Master Anter five hundred years ago. Do you remember its outcome?”
“The children grew up completely incapable of living in the real world,” one of the students replied. “They all either died or committed suicide when faced the reality.”
“You have to blame those who sabotaged the experiment.” The wizard shook his head. “This time I want you to look for something else. What happened when these kids became aware of themselves as individuals? When, despite their differences in character and temperament, they began to obey laws other than the law of the animal world? Why did it happen? After all, we’ve always believed that Master Gviatuk’s teachings of life’s origins and the laws of development can’t be questioned. How to explain that the development of this new society went the other way? Maybe all this is inherent in man even before birth?”
“However, when Martek decided to repeat the same experiment three hundred years later,” said another student, “didn’t he prove your theory wrong? In his case the strong dominated the weak, and an alpha male emerged, who subdued the whole pack right away. Undoubtedly his experiment proved that human society follows the same laws as the animal world, and Anter’s theory appeared to be untenable.”
“And what would have happened if they had all been equal?” Master Erbin shook his head. “Neither weak nor strong, just like in Anter’s experiment. If Martek had really wanted to follow Anter’s footsteps, he would have copied the exact conditions created by his predecessor. However, he pursued his own goal, that’s why he cheated.”
“It’s Utopia you’re talking about,” said a third student. “You can’t build Utopia in the real world. Moreover, you can’t put two alpha males in the same cage if you don’t want them to tear each other to shreds.”
“However, Anter succeeded. Perhaps the very existence of alpha males is the cause of all wars and discord. Perhaps we should isolate them right away. Maybe then we would be able to build an ideal society.” A student in the first row glared at his opponents. “Alas, Anter’s death made it impossible to finish the experiment and we will never be able to repeat it.”
“Let’s leave the alpha males for now,” Master Erbin smiled. “I know, it’s one of your favourite topics, but today we were going to discuss the possibility of the existence of a universal law. I want to hear you out.”
“Universal law is a great concept,” one of the senior students started, “but our world is fractured; it is composed of countless tiny pieces, just like a jigsaw puzzle. And each piece has its own morality, its customs and traditions. We must abide by the laws of the animal world, my friends! We should be strong; we should be able to protect our own world from the hostile worlds that surround us!”
The students applauded enthusiastically, but Master Erbin shook his head. “Let’s make an assumption that you had become stronger than the others. In that case, what’s stopping you from devouring the weak, if you insist on abiding by the laws of the animal world? You’ll be surrounded by weaklings. Would you serve them, or rather become a tyrant?”
“Just for their own good!” the student replied. “The mob doesn’t know what it wants. They need a strong helmsman to steer them in the right direction.”
“And if they don’t want to be steered?” asked the wizard. “What would you do then?”
The audience went quiet.
“Together with power comes responsibility and understanding of the delicate balance between good and evil. You were right when you spoke about the diversity of cultures. That is why it
is very important to keep this balance. It’s very easy to tilt these scales accidentally, so we must be dispassionate at all times, and use our Gift carefully and with the precision of a surgeon.”
“What about warlocks?” One of the students got up from his seat. “They don’t care about the balance!”
“They strive for power,” another student added. “I guess they want to prove Master Gviatuk’s theory and show the world who the real alpha male is.”
“We have discussed this topic many times,” said the magician. “You already know that warlocks and wizards draw their power from different sources. The warlocks live by their own laws, passing the Gift from generation to generation within their families. You know how short the warlock’s age is compared to our lifespan; they exhaust themselves quickly and die from pain and madness. Their path is the path of self-destruction.”
“I recently read about the Atonement ceremony,” said one of the students. “It helps the warlock to restore his power and allows him to use much more potent spells than we can.”
“It’s a terrible and disgusting ceremony,” Master Erbin sighed. “Don’t forget, they practise witchcraft not magic. These are completely different things. It’s true; they can replenish their life force by leeching it from other people, but our energy is of different kind; it comes not from outside, but from within. We must understand its nature, and we have to know how to control it, while the warlocks don’t possess and are not interested in such knowledge. We share our Gift with each other; whereas they can only consume.”
The Master Magician rubbed his nose. “As you can see, we’ve already moved on to the next question. Now let’s talk about redemption and punishment.”
The students fidgeted on their chairs. The lecturer saw it and mercifully raised his hand. “That’s enough for today, my dear friends. I want you to think about today’s lecture and to prepare some questions. But only those questions that you can’t answer by yourselves.”
The students collected their belongings and swiftly left the lecture hall.
Master Erbin was in no hurry to leave; he opened one of his books and plunged into reading.
I went down and hesitated near the lectern.
Master Erbin closed the book and looked down at me. “You wanted to ask something, Master Marcus?” He called me by name, confusing me even more.
“Yes,” I said. “I knew a sorcerer. I wanted to ask you …”
“Don’t be afraid,” the magician encouraged me. “So what’s your sorcerer?”
“I saw him whipping himself after a battle.” I swallowed hard. “Could that really atone for him?”
“Of course not.” Master Erbin frowned. “But it might soothe the guilt he felt. Most likely he was already half-mad. I suppose he was a combat sorcerer?”
“Yes,” I replied. “But he was a very good man.”
“I am sure he was,” said the wizard. “But you have to understand that his sorcery is much closer to witchcraft than to magic. The end of a combat sorcerer is often a sad one. They know there will be retribution, but they have no other choice but to use their craft when needed. They are bound to the army, protecting it from hostile witchcraft. Fight fire with fire, they say…”
I nodded, biting my lip. “And there is no way to avoid the coming of this madness?” I asked.
“Only the Atonement ceremony can help,” said the Master Magician. “However, there is no chance that a battle sorcerer would take part in such an atrocity. He would rather kill himself, feeling the approach of the inevitable.”
“But that’s terrible!” I cried.
“Much more terrifying is to live with guilt, knowing that you had leeched the life force out of some innocent person.” Master Erbin shook his head. “I doubt that your sorcerer friend could endure it.”
“And what retribution would befall the wizard who chooses to upset the balance?” I asked hesitantly.
“Nothing. He’ll go unpunished. Remember I mentioned that magic and witchcraft have different sources of power?” Master Erbin smiled. “That’s what makes us wizards so wicked.”
“So, no one can stop a renegade wizard?” I was shocked.
“Well”—the magician put his hand on my shoulder—“there is always a stronger wizard, or a simple crossbow bolt between the eyes.”
✽✽✽
For one day I’d had plenty food for thought, so I locked myself in my room and lay down on the bed, staring at the white ceiling. Master Erbin’s lecture had opened my eyes to a great many things.
Now I understood why the insurgents were so scared. If Master Keandr had wanted to, he could have subdued the rebels with ease. However, he didn’t. He quietly stepped aside, just to prevent a bloody civil war. A coup was disgusting, but it cost little blood, while a full-blown civil war could claim thousands of lives.
It turned out that our small kingdom had proved Master Gviatuk’s theories, where the strongest rightfully subjugated the weakest. I scratched my head, puzzled. Could it be that Master Keandr wasn’t an alpha male? Maybe he was just a coward who had fled the city only to save his own skin?
Impossible! He’s not a man who runs away! I remembered how bravely he fought the fearsome Zontrakian warlock; I remembered his courage on the battlefield and shook my head in anger, chasing away treacherous thoughts.
Master Keandr was a true man of Utopia, free from worldly desires and ambitions. His only goal was to protect the city, and he did so.
A bitter hatred for the usurper who had seized the throne of Lieh boiled anew in my chest. Damn Lord Brezel! He was ready to drown his own city in blood, just to satisfy his thirst for power. He’d left our kingdom’s borders unprotected and appointed his greedy and incompetent minions to important government posts. What would become of my Lieh? I was scared …
It would not be long before our neighbours would take up arms and tear the weakened kingdom to pieces.
I vowed that no evil-doer would go unpunished if I were to become a real wizard.
✽✽✽
Later that afternoon, Ice knocked on my door. “It’s time to take a break, buddy,” he grinned mysteriously. “Come on; let’s see how our Blockheads train before the Big Game!”
Back in Lieh, my father and I always went to watch the trakee games, often making small bets on our local teams. My brother Eran was the star of the Red team, but nonetheless my mother never went with us, considering these kinds of games too rough and stupid. We used to buy a packet of peanuts, a bottle of pop and, squeezing betting tickets in our sweaty palms, went wild, cheering for the Reds.
“Let’s go!” I was eager to see the Academy’s team.
We went down to the training field, sneaked in through the back entrance, and found ourselves a secluded spot at the far end, away from the prying eyes of the unfriendly Blockheads.
“I would have been broke ages ago, if not for betting,” said Ice. “I’ve heard that things are getting ugly back home. I really don’t care about Dad’s affairs, but each month I’m getting less and less money. Dad complains about poor harvests, murrain and other hardships, while my mother blames his new mistress, who’s squeezing all the juices out of Antraga. Damn, pretty soon I’ll have to send them money myself!”
“Your father is an exemplary king,” I sighed. “But your mother must be furious!”
“Nah,” Ice chuckled. “I think she has a lover too, and a much more vigorous one than my dad!”
The team of Blockheads entered the field. It was a decent-looking team. All the players were tall, broad shouldered and heavily muscled.
“They should wear armour instead of silk underpants,” I whistled.
“Not in our lifetime.” Ice shook his head. “Wearing armour you can get a blister on your ass! Moreover, people tend to die on the battlefield, and in this respect, the trakee field is much safer. Our Blockheads fight their battles here and I must admit they are pretty good at it.”
For a while the Blockheads were busy going through their usual workou
t. They were snatching heavy wooden balls from the air, lifting rusty iron bars and doing some half-hearted grappling.
“Look, this one here is called Nis.” Ice pointed to a stocky broad-shouldered youth. “The moment he enters the field, our team is bound to win.”
“Is he a good player?” I leaned recklessly out of the shadows, but Ice immediately pulled me back.
“He’s a great player and a first-class bully. You’ll see it for yourself if they catch us here!”
“It appears that you’re a huge fan of his,” I said.
“Damn Blockheads,” Ice said. “When they are not on the field, they are looking for trouble. Somehow I bump into them much more often than I care to.”
“Understood.” I sighed. “So, you won’t shed a tear if they lose?”
“Damn, no,” Ice grinned. “In fact, I’ll make good money out of it. The stakes are really high.”
“I think I know what you’re up to.” I lowered my voice and poked him in the ribs. “Spill it out already!”
Ice showed me a tiny vial made of clear glass with a rubber stopper at one end. It was filled to the brim with white powder. “Bought it yesterday at the apothecary,” he said innocently. “The strongest laxative the money can buy.”
I choked a giggle and kept a straight face. My friend looked very serious and determined, just like a real warlord before a battle.
“I hope that you have a backup plan.” I said. “Just in case something goes wrong. After all, you are taking a great risk here.”
“Those who don’t take risks don’t drink warra!” Ice squeezed the bottle in his fist. “This is what you say in the steppes?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Those who drink warra aren’t risking anything at all.”
“Oh.” My friend sagged. “You are right. We need a backup plan.”
“And we need an escape route too,” I added. “Just in case both of your plans fail.”
“I had no idea that you were such a fine strategist!” My friend grunted. “Can you think of anything?”
