Mageborn

by Stephen Aryan

  Normally they wouldn’t have had this much free time before curfew, but the erratic changes in their lessons continued. Some teachers were absent for their lessons and notes were left pinned to the classroom doors. Others arrived late to class and left early on urgent business. Every teacher was distracted and, while they made an attempt to focus on the lessons, it was obvious their hearts weren’t in it.

  In Danoph’s final class of the day, on the history of magic, their teacher Master Stenne had droned on about the infinite majesty and power of the Source. Nothing she told them was new as she’d given them the same lesson the week before, almost word for word. When one girl mentioned this a few minutes into the lesson the teacher’s expression had turned sour.

  “Clearly you didn’t learn it well enough the first time, so it bears repeating,” she snapped. What followed was an hour of tedium where no one else objected again, just in case they were forced to endure it a third time next week.

  What had puzzled Danoph the most, since his first day at the Red Tower, was that no one addressed the duality he sensed within everyone.

  Like every other mage in training, he could feel the Source and when he reached towards it the sensation was like no other. Its complexity was such that he struggled to define it and whenever he tried it always seemed inadequate. It was a dozen wonderful things combined and yet none of them. It was more glorious than the warmth of the sun on his face. More refreshing than jumping into a freezing lake on a hot day. It coursed through every part of his body and all of his senses were magnified when he embraced it. He’d overheard others speaking about this, so he knew these feelings were not unique to him.

  And yet, no one ever talked about the dual echo of magic within people. Learning how to sense magical ability in someone else was easy. It was also something all students did instinctively to measure their strength against everyone else. Seekers used this technique to test children, where it created an echo between them. An alien and yet familiar pulse that connected them to each other.

  Whenever Danoph did this he felt something else that no one spoke about. He wondered if this was part of a new Talent that only he possessed.

  Vania had one arm slung around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. She wasn’t quite asleep but he could feel she was relaxed and comfortable. Embracing the Source, he reached out with his senses and studied her.

  Once again Danoph was struck by the duality he felt within her. There was the familiar echo of magic that everybody spoke about, but also there was a second pulse. It lived in between the beats. He sensed it almost as dark spots between the light that filled her being with power from the Source. It was a small part of her that seemed insignificant in comparison to the vastness of the Source. But it was there within her. It was within everyone.

  Sometimes he thought there were other pulses, but he’d come to believe they were merely echoes. In every lesson, as he tried to better understand how to channel power from the Source, Danoph also hoped to find answers about what he could sense. If it was a Talent then what purpose did it serve? And what was he sensing in other people?

  Vania stirred, wrapping both arms around his waist and giving him a squeeze. “Are you friends with the girl who killed Brunwal?” she asked. The question seemed at odds with her nuzzling his neck.

  “Wren is my friend,” he said.

  “That’s exciting,” she said, gripping his chin and turning his face towards her. The kiss was unexpected and yet part of Danoph wasn’t surprised. Wren’s return to the dormitories had been without incident. She was withdrawn and said even less than usual, leaving Tianne to fill the awkward gaps that often littered their conversations. The other students had tended to ignore Wren before her fight with Brunwal anyway, so little had changed there. However, for whatever reason, proximity to danger or notoriety for getting involved, Danoph was receiving more attention from girls.

  A disturbance at the main gate drew everyone’s attention. A group of older students had returned early from town. Normally they wouldn’t return until late into the night and would crawl into their beds, smelling of beer and spicy food. The dishevelled, surly group that walked past looked neither drunk nor in a good mood.

  When they saw Danoph’s group had a bottle they joined them, adding their own mage lights to the others.

  “What happened?” someone asked, as the bottle was passed to an older girl named Tahira.

  She took a long pull on the bottle before answering. “The locals in town are all riled up and looking for a fight. It wasn’t worth staying.”

  “They think we’re responsible for killing their children,” said someone else.

  Stories of what was happening to Seekers and children across the west had raced through the Red Tower like wildfire. Being fairly remote, the only news they normally received was weeks or months out of date. Now they received almost daily stories from visitors, older students visiting town and merchants delivering supplies. The situation out there was bleak and seemed to be getting worse for Seekers.

  While he remained worried for others it also made Danoph wonder about his future and that of his fellow students once they graduated. If no one trusted or wanted a mage, what would they do? Where would they go?

  “Tahira nearly got into a fight with some old hag,” said one of the other students.

  “She was blaming the Grey Council. She thinks Balfruss and the others told the Seekers to attack people. It was a stupid thing to say.” Tahira seemed angry but he thought she was also afraid. On the surface she looked calm but there was a deep well of anger inside her that was starting to bubble up. As someone much closer to graduating, the reality of going out into a world that was hostile towards mages was difficult to face.

  One of the few good things that should have come out of the war was a healthy respect for Battlemages. After all, if not for the likes of Balfruss and Eloise, countless people would have died under the rule of the Mad King and the Warlock. The turning point of the war came when Balfruss had defeated the Warlock in battle.

  Instead of respecting power, people had become more afraid of magic after seeing the widespread destruction that a few mages had wrought. Danoph had thought the monthly visits from Seekers had helped. It seemed as if they had merely been masking the underlying fear of magic. Parents were glad to see their cursed children taken away. Better that than have them stay and pose a risk to their lives and the entire community.

  What had been bubbling under for years had now reached the surface, painting a bleak future for all the students.

  “Will you go back to town again?” asked Vania.

  Tahira looked at her for a long time and didn’t reply, which was its own answer. The risk was too great. The school was starting to feel more like a prison. On the other hand it was perhaps one of the few remaining places that was still safe for mages, where they would be welcomed without judgement.

  Later, when the bottle was empty and people were either going to bed or seeking out more secluded spots, Danoph found himself alone with Tahira. Hers was the only remaining mage light, a swirling globe of blue and white. It flickered, as if there were a host of fireflies trapped inside, desperate to break free. Whenever he tried to create something similar the result was a weak yellow ball that painted everyone in a sickly hue. Hers seemed alive by comparison.

  Tahira was lost in thought. Her eyes were far away but when he moved to get up she held out a hand. “Can you stay for a while?”

  Danoph nodded and sat down again. “Did something else happen?”

  “No,” said Tahira staring into the dark. “This is about what happens next.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You need to decide for yourself. Will you be a wolf or a lamb?” Her voice was hushed, as if afraid of waking something lurking in the dark beyond their meagre light. Or perhaps it was something inside she was afraid to awaken. “One day I will be a Battlemage. I’m not going to stay to become a Sorcerer like some of the others. I’m going to go
out there and use my magic. But I will not cower, I will not beg and I will not run, and anyone who gets in my way will regret it.”

  Danoph had to swallow hard before asking his question. The thought of being alone with Tahira in the dark was becoming far less appealing with every heartbeat. “The Grey Council says magic is a gift that must be used wisely. To use it against those without magic goes against one of the founding principles of the Red Tower.” Danoph knew he wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know but Tahira didn’t argue or chastise him.

  “How long has the Red Tower been here?” she asked.

  Danoph shrugged. “No one really knows. Centuries, perhaps a thousand years.”

  “Do you think the original Grey Council were Oracles? Could they have predicted what’s happened recently?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “The world is a different place and we must adapt to survive. Magic must adapt as well.”

  Danoph didn’t like the sound of what she was saying but he didn’t argue. From her expression it was something she had been wrestling with for some time before coming to this decision. Anything he said now would be meaningless.

  “What will you do?” he asked instead.

  Tahira’s smile was more than a little sad. “Nothing, for now at least. Live my life and play at being a lamb until the day when they come for me.”

  “And then?”

  “Show them my teeth.”

  The following morning while Danoph and the others were in the practice yard under the watchful gaze of Choss, the sound of a horse’s hooves drew his attention. There was a shout at the gate and a rider came pounding through at a gallop. The rider, slumped over the beast’s neck, pulled back on the reins before sliding out of the saddle onto the ground.

  “Run and fetch Master Yettle,” said Choss, grabbing the nearest student. “Take care of the horse,” he said to another, who led the sweating animal away towards the stables.

  Danoph and the others gathered around the fallen rider who had been propped up into a sitting position by Choss. The middle-aged man was dressed in a familiar black robe with a deep hood and black gloves. There was no sign of his golden mask, but from the blood on his face Danoph guessed it must have come off in a struggle.

  “Give us some room. Take a few steps back,” said Choss, waving everyone away, and they obliged. A short time later Master Yettle appeared and behind him came all three members of the Grey Council. A space opened up in the crowd as they marched towards the injured Seeker.

  As Master Yettle knelt beside the man Garvey and the others looked at the crowd of gathered students. Danoph noted Balfruss and Eloise were looking through the gates but there was nothing to see out there beyond the wall. He sensed a deep pulse from the Source as one or both drew power from it and continued to look into the far distance.

  “Killed himself,” gasped the injured man, while Yettle cut open the man’s robe to inspect his injuries. Danoph saw blood had soaked into his shirt but he couldn’t see if the wound was serious.

  “You can tell us about it later,” said Yettle, moving his hands across the man’s body, checking for additional injuries. The Seeker hissed in pain when he touched one of his shoulders. “Dislocated,” muttered the healer.

  “Can we move him?” asked Eloise, looking at the growing crowd of students.

  “Not yet. Let me finish my examination,” said Yettle.

  The Seeker seemed to be on the verge of unconsciousness but when he saw Balfruss he lurched towards him with grasping hands. “He did it in your name!” he said.

  Balfruss knelt down beside the man, taking his bloody hand in both of his. “You’re safe now. Try to rest.”

  “They said he did it for you,” said the Seeker. The crowd had fallen silent, soaking up every word. “He killed himself for you.”

  Balfruss and the other members of the Grey Council exchanged a look. It was clear they would have preferred to have this conversation with the Seeker in private, but it was too late for that now.

  “Ask your questions now,” said Yettle, drawing power from the Source. “His injuries are severe. I can’t risk moving him until he’s healed. He’ll be unconscious once I’m done.”

  There was a mild pulse of energy and golden light began to spread across Yettle’s outstretched hands, weaving itself together into a complex net.

  “What happened?” asked Balfruss.

  “A Seeker has destroyed a town in southern Yerskania. He started killing people without provocation and setting buildings on fire. The locals fought back and managed to injure him before he killed himself. Something similar has happened in Shael. A woman killed sixty people before she died.”

  “Where?” asked Balfruss.

  “To the west,” said the Seeker, waving his arm vaguely.

  “Hold still,” hissed Yettle, adjusting the golden weave to concentrate on the Seeker’s injured shoulder. There was an audible popping sound as the wrenched joint was put back in place. The Seeker’s eyes rolled up in his head and it looked as if he were going to pass out but he shook it off, gritting his teeth.

  “Why were you attacked? Who did this?” asked Balfruss.

  “The people in town. When they heard the stories they chased me out. There are more stories from everywhere about attacks on Seekers.”

  “What exactly did the Seekers say before they died?” asked Garvey, fixing the injured man in place with his stare. “Word for word.”

  “‘For Balfruss and the Red Tower.’” The Seeker’s body shuddered as Yettle’s healing weave settled across his whole body.

  “You’ll have to speak to him later. If I leave it any longer he could die,” said Yettle.

  There was nothing more to say. The danger that had seemed so remote was now on their doorstep. But worse than that, Seekers were now starting to fight back and doing so in the name of Balfruss. It seemed unbelievable that anyone who had been at the Red Tower would use their magic against people and yet the stories could not be ignored.

  “All right, get back to class. Go on!” said Garvey, shoving people back to create room. He and the other gathered teachers helped the crowd to disperse while Yettle used his magic to carry the injured Seeker to the hospital.

  Standing alone in the middle of the crowd, in an oasis of empty space, was Balfruss. Danoph saw many students glance over their shoulder at him, their faces troubled, disbelieving, angry, and, in a few cases, proud. From the little he knew about Balfruss, Danoph didn’t believe he would ever have given such an order. The Seekers were using magic to kill and taking his name in vain.

  Danoph thought back to his conversation with Tahira the previous night. She had already made her choice about what she would become. Now he wondered if every student would face a similar decision a lot sooner than they realised.

  CHAPTER 31

  Tammy waved at the Royal Guard as she approached the final gate on her way out of the palace. She pulled it open and gestured for Tammy to pass through straight away.

  “See you tomorrow,” said Riona. Tammy just grunted.

  She’d seen Riona that often in the last few days they were practically best friends. She already knew all about her husband, a glassblower with his own business, and their two children, boys aged four and six. In the few minutes each day, as they’d walked from the outer gate to the Queen’s office, Riona talked and Tammy mostly listened.

  Once Riona had casually asked about Tammy’s family but when she saw that it hit a nerve, she quickly changed the subject. Right now Tammy was desperately trying to focus on dealing with the problems at hand, but the shadow of her past continually lingered at the back of her mind. It was like a sore tooth and every time she touched it the pain flashed through her anew. Burying it and trying to pretend it didn’t exist had not worked. It had stopped her moving forward with her life and with Kovac. She hoped finding answers would bring her some peace.

  Occasionally she and Riona would compare notes about trai
ning, as Riona was curious about what was required to become a Guardian of the Peace, but mostly she did all the talking. That suited Tammy fine as she could listen with one ear and absorb the information while focusing on one of the many issues she was trying to solve.

  Since the Old Man had collapsed in the Queen’s office Tammy and the other Guardians had been doing their best to get along without him, but it was becoming more difficult every day. It wasn’t just his advice and knowledge they needed, he was also a solid and focused presence that drew everyone together. With everyone feeding him information he could discern patterns in the reports that others missed as they didn’t have access to everything. They also didn’t have time. Each Guardian had a stack of cases to solve and, while cooperation was appreciated, no one liked having their cases poached or finding out someone was interfering. He held Unity Hall together in a hundred other ways that she was only just beginning to appreciate.

  The good news was that the Queen’s surgeon had said the Old Man would recover. Unfortunately he’d not been specific about how much time it would take. The bad news was that in the interim he was mostly confined to bed and was under guard to enforce it. If it had been up to the Old Man he would have gone back to work immediately, but the surgeon had said he was suffering from severe exhaustion. He needed bed rest, plenty of hot food and gentle exercise.

  That meant Tammy had to act as a go-between and visit him in the palace, armed with a dozen questions from other Guardians about their cases. The surgeon had also left strict instructions that he was not to be bothered for more than a couple of hours a day.

  When not carrying answers and suggestions back to Unity Hall, Tammy was digging into what was happening with the Seekers. She had people looking into Torran Habreel and his followers and was due to receive a report when she got back. Just as she’d been heading into the palace she’d been passed a note about an incident with Munroe at Unity Hall. Tammy would have to deal with that as soon as she got back. Hopefully Munroe had managed to get some answers from Grell.