The Magic, Warped

by Rick Field

  When the quartet reached the altar, and bowed, Liane bowed back. It was usually not appropriate for Nobles to bow to one another, Decorum demanded subservience only to a Noble of clearly higher rank. A student could bow to their teacher should they wish, and a Noble should bow to one of the Imperial Council... and had to bow to the Lord Emperor.

  She was their junior; they did not bow to her. Instead, they bowed to what she represented: the presence of the gods upon earth while she conducted the ceremony.

  She bowed back, as a sign of respect given from herself, both to the station she upheld and to honor the respect given to her by the people before her. As she straightened up, she met the eyes of the Rituals & Ceremonies Doctora. She blinked, yet made no outward sign, going on with the ceremony.

  “My Lords and My Ladies,” Liane said to the four people before her as if the crowd was not present. “I bid you welcome to this ceremony of matrimony. May I know who among you have requested this Ceremony?”

  As ritual demanded, the elder Warlock and the elder Mage stepped forward. “I, Orlan Metalmaster, request this ceremony on behalf of my son, Aral Woodcrafter, honored Master Mage.”

  Liane gave a ritualistic half-bow to the elder Warlock, ignoring the fact that his son, a graduated Warlock, was only a crafter in status. He was obviously not very powerful.

  “I, Esad Icemaster, request this ceremony on behalf of my daughter, Licta Firemaster, honored Master Mage,” the mother of the bride spoke. Liane half-bowed to her, before looking both the man and woman deep in the eyes.

  The ceremony she had started with the closing of the circles was starting to take effect, now that the father of the groom and the mother of the bride accepted their roles in it. Liane could feel the magic seeping into her core.

  Amy stepped up, holding the cushion. Liane reached to grab her wand, never once breaking her eye-contact. Made to order to suit her unstable core, her wand's handle was made of copper-colored metal, while the actual wand itself was dark obsidian, the almost-black crystal reflecting and refracting light in unusual patterns.

  The metal handle seemed to vibrate in her gloved hands, and the deep-black crystal shaft resonated soundlessly with the crystals on her focus gloves. This wand had taken months to get right, to grow to just the right perfections. When holding it for the first time, Liane had felt sure she would finally be able to use regular magic.

  Unfortunately, the added stability given by her wand was still not enough to make her completely 'normal'. It helped, yes, but it was still not enough.

  She was not here to work regular magic, in any case. She was here to conduct a ceremony. She finished her eye-contact with both the Mage and Warlock, and intoned, “Do you, Master Warlock, promise to stand for this union? Do you promise to protect it, guide it, and support it?” it was more direct than Decorum usually allowed, but the magic required clear and precise words.

  The ceremonial magic rose in preparation for his answer.

  “I so vow, on the blood in my veins and the beating of my heart, honored Master Mage,” the man said, head lifting slightly. Nobles loved making impressive-sounding vows. The magic flashed silently, and it was doubtful that anyone was aware of it. Liane herself probably would have been unaware of it, had it not been for her magic-sight.

  “Do you, Master Mage, promise to stand for this union? Do you promise to protect it, guide it, and support it?” she then asked of the woman.

  “I so vow, on the blood in my veins and the beating of my heart, honored Master Mage,” the woman replied ritualistically. Again, the magic flashed.

  Liane, as the conductor of the ceremony, started intoning the first level of the ceremonial magic. To her, it looked like a multi-colored web of magic wrapped itself around the two elders, pulsing and ready to be called on at her command. She motioned widely to the two young people who were about to be joined, and gestured for them to step closer and come together, for the first time standing side-by-side without their parents shielding them.

  The magic that had permeated the air, bonding into a web thanks to the ritualistic magic she had just cast, hung in the air, silently waiting for her to proceed.

  “Master Warlock,” she said to the young man. “Is this ceremony to your wishes? Do you stand here without compulsion and without reservation, ready to join your life and magic to this woman?”

  “I so swear, honored Master Mage.”

  Liane nodded. “Master Mage, is this ceremony to your wishes? Do you stand here without compulsion and without reservation, ready to join your life and magic to this man?”

  “I so swear, honored Master Mage,” the woman replied, a smile threatening to break out as she and her husband-to-be shared a glance.

  The magic reacted, the web strengthening, reaching out to the young couple in front of Liane's altar. They had vowed life and magic to each other, the ceremony was ready to be completed, seeming almost eager for it.

  “Should someone here choose to do so, they may now challenge this man for the right to marry this woman. Should they choose to waive this right, they will forever waive this right,” Liane said, spreading her arms wide. Nobody had challenged someone at the altar in over two hundred years, but one had to observe the rituals.

  Nobody stepped forward.

  “Should someone here choose to do so, they may now challenge this woman for the right to marry this man. Should they choose to waive this right, they will forever waive this right,” Liane then said. After all, it was not only men that got challenged. It was entirely possible that a different woman wished to marry this man.

  Again, nobody stepped forward. After waiting the appropriate five seconds, Liane continued casting, weaving the second level ceremonial magic around the young couple. A second multi-colored web of magic pulsed at the ready, integrating itself with the web already there. Now not only life and magic would be bound, but fidelity and loyalty would be bound as well.

  Liane looked at the young couple, and at the two elder people, now standing two paces back. “I am about to join this union. Masters Warlock, Masters Mage, this is your final chance to annul this ceremony, or be forever bound.”

  Amy, her faithful assistant, held up the cushion again. Next to the place where her wand had been, rested her athame. Like her wand, it was made of obsidian, and held a brightly copper-colored handle. It was shaped like a flame, and Liane found it matched the flames on her robes quite nicely. Grabbing the ceremonial dagger, she lifted it off the cushion.

  Nobody spoke for the required five seconds, and Liane nodded once. Amy held the cushion closer. The final item on it was a small gold cube, and Liane pricked her finger with the athame. Two drops of her blood hit the cube.

  Without being prompted, Amy walked around the altar, and presented the cushion to the Warlock. Liane muttered a sterilization spell at her athame, and presented it, handle-first, to the Warlock. He took it, pricked his finger, and allowed two drops of his own blood to hit the cube. He then presented the dagger back to Liane.

  She took it, sterilized it once more, and presented it to the Mage just as Amy had finished walking around and presenting the cushion with the cube to the bride.

  The bride, too, pricked her finger.

  Liane accepted her athame back, sterilized it one final time, and placed it in a holder on her belt. The cushion with the gold cube was held up to her by Amy, who had done her role perfectly. Neither rushed nor slow, the girl had presented the cushion perfectly at the correct intervals.

  Proud though she was, Liane could not show any affection at the moment. Closing her eyes, she started casting the final level of ceremonial magic, tying the magics in the air to the cube of gold held up by her Assistant. To her magic-sight, the joining of the interlocking magics was a true thing of beauty, finally settling into a solid gold thread connecting bride and groom that almost made her smile. The gold cube flashed, and vanished from the cushion.

  Liane let out her breath. She had performed the Ceremony perfectly. “Permit me to offer my
congratulations, My Lord and My Lady. You are now joined in the union of matrimony.” As she finished her words, the gold cube reappeared, settling as a gold band around the ring fingers of both bride and groom. As the magic finished, runes and glyphs appeared on the outside of the gold bands.

  She bowed deeply, no longer the ritualistic half-bow. The newly married couple thanked her, and bowed back. The ceremony was over.

  Glowing inwardly with a job well-done, she stepped back to the preparation chamber, her Assistant falling into step behind her.

  Half an hour later, they left the preparation room, dressed in their regular robes once more. The Doctora was waiting for them outside.

  Being a woman of few words, she merely explained that both their performances were exemplary, and that Liane had officially passed the Rituals & Ceremonies course with top marks, before nodding a greeting and walking off.

  Liane didn't mind the lack of small talk, her marks were what mattered, and so she failed to keep a tiny satisfied smile off her face as she left the temple with Amy half a step behind her right shoulder.

  They returned to the Academy in short order, ready to take an evening off from studying, and just enjoy a nice, long, relaxing dinner at the dining hall, before going to bed early.

  As they crossed the courtyard, and reached the large silver fountain, both Proctor and Assistant halted. “My Lady,” Milor said, looking away from where he had been staring at the fountain, obviously waiting for them.

  “My Lord,” Liane replied back, also looking away from the fountain. It was looking like a four-dimensional cube and was making her head hurt.

  “May I ask how your exam has been?” he asked.

  “It was excellent, My Lord. I was required to perform a ceremony of matrimony, and my performance was flawless. The Doctora has informed me that I will be receiving top marks,” Liane replied, before motioning to Amy. “My Assistant's performance was exemplary as well.”

  “Congratulations, My Lady,” Milor said, dipping his head, before looking at Amy. “Congratulations, Assistant.”

  “Thank you, My Lord,” Liane replied, right before Amy could.

  “Perhaps we could hold a small celebration?” Milor asked. “I have been given directions to a quaint little inn not too far from here that serves an excellent lamb stew. It would be my honor should you choose to accompany me.”

  Liane did not need to think long about the offer. The food among the Commoners wasn't as high-status as the food at the Academy was, but it usually came in larger quantities, and the atmosphere was far preferable.

  “Thank you, My Lord. I do believe we shall,” she said, her faint smile growing just a bit larger.

  He dipped his head, gave a faint yet pleased smile, and motioned for the entrance gate. “This way, please, My Lady.”

  As they started walking, Liane couldn't help but think that this was one of the better days at the Academy. She had met a challenge posed by her teacher, she had earned top marks, and now she would enjoy a nice dinner with her friend and her faithful Assistant.

  The food was as good as had been rumored, the atmosphere was exuberant, and Liane had a few too many goblets of wine, making her slightly drunk. By the time they walked back to the Academy, night had fallen.

  Amy was practically asleep on her feet after a large and filling lamb-stew meal and a goblet of wine.

  “I do not believe I have ever been out this late,” Liane said, looking up at the stars and the coal-black night. “It certainly changes the atmosphere,” she added, looking around the blackened roads winding through the commoner part of the city.

  Milor was the picture of composure as he answered. “Do not let yourself worry. We are Nobles, My Lady.”

  She just shrugged, the alcohol in her system lifting her personal boundaries making her forget certain rules of Decorum. “That wasn't really what I was talking about, but interesting conclusion you just jumped to, My Lord.”

  His lips twitched. “It comes with being a Warlock, My Lady,” he replied, his tone light.

  She gave a grin, then tried to compose herself. “How does a Warlock see the situation, My Lord?” she asked.

  Milor graced her with an indulgent look, before letting his eyes travel over their surroundings. “A Warlock would be very aware of the fact that we have shadows all around us, shadows in which opponents may be hidden. A Warlock would also be conscious about the torches illuminating the street corners, as looking into them would induce night-blindness that would increase the shadows.”

  Liane looked around, suddenly not feeling as comfortable as she had previously. Every shadow suddenly appeared longer and thicker than it had before, taking on shapes that reminded her vaguely of the repulsively dangerous visions that the silver fountain sometimes took when her magic was agitated.

  A shudder raced down her body. “I see your point, My Lord,” she added, suddenly not feeling quite so elated, nor as intoxicated, as before.

  “You needn't worry, My Lady. As I have said before, We are Nobles,” he replied easily, his level tone doing its best to calm her sudden jump in nerves.

  She nodded, drawing a deep relaxing breath.

  When it came, it came out of nothing. A scream tore through Liane's throat as magic detonated against her back, throwing her to the ground. Gasping for breath and blinking against the pain, she barely had time to roll around to see Amy, her faithful Assistant, unconscious on the ground, crumpled at the feet of a black-dressed figure.

  Two more figures were circling Milor, whose Warlock-trained reflexes had obviously saved him from the cowardly attack perpetrated on them.

  Seeing the figure standing over Amy look in her direction, Liane slowly pushed to her feet. “You are still awake?” the black-dressed figure asked in a feminine voice. Liane drew a breath and erected herself fully. The woman facing her had been startled, judging from the pair of blue-gray steel-colored eyes that were visible through the black hood.

  The follow-up attack from the woman didn't catch Liane nearly as much off-guard as the cowardly attack to the back had done, and she managed to dodge aside. More attacks were forthcoming, and Liane found herself boxed in, having to admit the superior knowledge and skill of her opponent.

  Her chest constricted as the woman's attack hit, and Liane toppled over, feeling her magic scream and howl as it negated the effects placed on her. Turning into glorious fire, the magic burned through her veins, throwing away the pain and fear and confusion that had marred her performance up until now.

  Ignoring the two figures engaged in battle with Milor, she focused on her own opponent, the one who had hurt Amy, who had dared to attack her in the back, who had presumed to ambush all three of them.

  “Walk away, My Lady. We're only here for him,” the unknown woman said. “Out of respect for you, for standing after taking major strikes, I will let you walk away with the assistant if you promise not to interfere with what will happen.”

  Liane's lips curled back as the magic took over. This woman had dared to hurt her precious Assistant! She had dared to attack them in the back! And now she would suggest the height of cowardice!?

  A red filter descended over Liane's vision, and she whispered the mental acceleration spell.

  Synesthesia immediately took over, and Liane's voice tasked like ash and charcoal as she snapped spell after spell at her opponent, an opponent who had immediately cast the exact same acceleration spell and started dodging with no apparent effort.

  That could only mean one thing... the person facing her was a Warlock.

  A female Warlock.

  Snapping lightning at the dodging figure, Liane’s mouth produced nothing but screams and grunts, unable to hit the woman who dodged like liquid water. A new counter-attack was forthcoming, and Liane made good use of all of her skills, literally parrying the strikes aimed at her, deviating them into the ground or the air.

  Liane's next spell had the ground ensnare the woman's feet, a low tactic that was impossible during regular duels du
e to charmed flooring. Releasing the acceleration spell, she felt her fire-core turn the incredible pain of coming down into the utmost pleasure.

  Gasping for breath at the amount of magic expended and the curious combination of pain and pleasure flooding her brain, Liane approached the fallen woman.

  The earth-bonds shattered moments later, the woman drawing a sword and charging magic through it. Death Magic lashed from the weapon at Liane's position. She barely had time to throw herself out of the way. More Death Magic strikes followed, and Liane rolled over the ground in an undignified manner, thrown and jerked and pulled around by her magic, desperately trying to steer her clear of the incoming attacks.

  “You are well-trained,” the woman commented when the barrage of strikes ended, and Liane slowly came to her feet, covered in dust, bleeding from shallow cuts where chips of stone had hit her. “But it is over now. Surrender.”

  Liane growled, and almost took a step forward.

  She halted when she realized that the woman had maneuvered them exactly as she had wanted to. Liane was now well away from Amy, and the woman was standing above the unconscious Assistant. “I do not wish to commit murder here today. You will leave.”

  Liane's body took another almost-step forward. She stopped once more when black magic gathered in the woman's hand, a Death Magic finishing strike.

  The red filter became a red haze, and magic howled through Liane's body. Her unknown female Warlock opponent's eyes widened at the sight, and physically moved back when Liane's teeth bared fully and her eyes glowed. The scream that followed was barely articulate, a semi-growled chopped-off incantation that struck the unknown woman straight in the chest.

  She fell down, and started screaming and trashing.

  Liane's gaze travelled around, coming into contact with the two assailants who had been targeting Milor. They broke off their assault at the sound of their companion's screams, only to witness the woman going into convulsions, before lying still.