He’d been sitting alone for several minutes, feeling completely pathetic, depressed, and sorry for himself when a young girl just about his own age set her tray down across from him.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked as she plunked her lunch tray on the table and sat down anyway, even before Tommy had a chance to reply. Because she was already sitting, Tommy couldn’t think of anything to say. He felt stupid inviting her to sit when she already was, so he swallowed a mouthful of meatloaf and said, “Uhh....”
“I’m Mae. Like the month, but with an ‘E’ at the end. Instead of a ‘Y’, I mean. M-A-E. It was my grandmother’s name.” She stood up to extend her hand out across the table toward Tommy and added “You are one of the first-years, aren’t you? Just started?”
Tommy stood to take her hand and shake it gently. The skin of her hand felt soft and cool under his, and Tommy was painfully aware that he was sweating. He fervently hoped his hand didn’t feel clammy to her, and he managed to reply, “Uhh... yeah. I just started. Today is my first day. I’m Thomas. Tommy, I mean. Everyone calls me Tommy.”
As they both returned to their seats, Tommy took his first real look at Mae. She was pretty, in a plain sort of way, with long, curly chestnut colored hair that stretched down past her shoulders in extensive, looping ringlets. Her face was round, with brown eyes so dark they looked almost black peeking out from behind thick glasses. Her glasses were black ovals with little wing-like things that stuck out at the corners, and they reminded Tommy of glasses his old crazy Aunt Mary used to wear. She had a small mouth, a petite but pointy nose, and ruddy cheeks that formed tiny little dimples when she smiled. She looked like the kind of girl that got teased a lot at Tommy’s old school. In short, Tommy thought she was beautiful.
Mae continued talking, however, and Tommy was so stunned that he almost missed her saying “I’m on my second year, so I’m a year ahead of you. I remember what it was like, though. Starting out, I mean. It seems really scary, but you’ll get used to it. I wouldn’t go back to my old school for ANYTHING.” She smiled at Tommy again, and began eating her lunch.
Tommy, on the other hand, couldn’t think of anything to say. He’d never been much of a lady’s man at his old school, and being confronted by this stunning beauty, here, unexpectedly, was too much for his brain to process. He contented himself with filling his mouth with food – at least it prevented him from having to say something, and let him avoid saying something that Mae would find stupid or lame.
Fortunately, Mae didn’t seem to have any problem with Tommy’s silence. She easily filled the conversation void, talking in between shoveling her lunch into her mouth. Tommy wondered if she could even taste the food, she was gobbling it so fast. “You’re the new boy, right?” Mae asked. Seeing the confusion on Tommy’s face, she added, “New to magic, I mean. You used to be a mundane. A normal person, I mean. They don’t like us to use that word. ‘Mundane’. They don’t like us to say ‘normal person’, either. The teachers claim we are all normal people. But you know what I mean, right? I mean, you can’t say ‘a person who doesn’t use magic’ all the time, right? That seems like a lot to say all the time.”
Tommy blinked slowly under the onslaught of conversation. He could tell from Mae’s pause that she was waiting for a response, but it took him a few minutes to sort through her sentences and figure out what exactly he was supposed to respond to. When he finally wheedled it out, he was confused. “Uhhh... yeah,” he replied, “I’m new to the whole magic... thing. How did you know?” Tommy was slightly suspicious – was there some sort of mark on him that he couldn’t see? Or was Mae using her magic to read his mind?
Mae grinned. “There are very few secrets around here. You’ll see, everyone talks to everyone, and since we don’t really leave the school much at all, there’s not all that much to talk about. Plus, everyone knows who the applicants are each year. Some people train and study for years in hopes of getting an invitation to join the school, but there are only so many spots each year, so most people have to apply for several years before being accepted. Someone new, like you, is always worth talking about. Everyone wants to know who you are and what you’ll be like.”
“Oh. I’m... uhhh... Just me, really. I’m no one special. I didn’t even really want to come here.”
Mae giggled at him, and it made Tommy’s heart flutter a little. “No one special? The word is that you arrived with the Archmage Micah, unannounced and unplanned, without even an invite. They say that he saved your life, and that you pledged your life to him in return. Do you think he’d do all that for somebody who isn’t special?”
Tommy frowned. “I never pledged nothing. Micah saved me, but I didn’t have any place else to go. I didn’t want to go to jail.” Tommy felt a sudden wave of sadness pass over him. He blinked quickly several times to keep from crying. “I never even got to say goodbye to my mom and dad.”
Mae frowned, somewhat put off by the somber turn of the conversation, but she persisted. “I’m sorry. There are some other students like that here. One of my good friends came to the school the same way, but he’s a year older and has a different schedule than I do. He eats lunch with the apprentices, not us novices. Maybe I can introduce you some time? I’m sure you would get along great!”
Although still feeling depressed, it was hard for Tommy to ignore Mae’s enthusiasm. Her personality was simply so bubbly that it was difficult to stay in a bad mood. He was just about to reply when someone clapped him hard on the shoulder, and instead he let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Tommy turned to see that it was Ryan who had assaulted him so.
“Come on, buddy,” Ryan said gruffly. “We’ve got Introduction to Magic in two minutes. This is going to be an awesome class; you can play kissy face later.”
Tommy blushed furiously. He most certainly had NOT been playing kissy face with Mae, and he was mortified that Ryan had let on that he really, really wanted to. Mae appeared not to notice, however, because she was nodding furiously.
“You should go! That was my favorite class in first year! It’s so interesting! That’s why we’re all here, after all. To learn about magic, right?” Mae made a shooing gesture at Tommy, but she was smiling as she did it. “Go! Go! I’ll see you at dinner!”
Abashed, Tommy picked up his tray and followed Ryan to the drop-off. He turned once to look at Mae, and she smiled and shooed him again. Tommy smiled back, then the impact of what had happened hit him. He’d talked to a pretty girl! And she wanted to talk to him again! Today! Moreover, she had totally ignored Ryan’s comments about playing kissy face. Suddenly, Tommy felt like he had something to look forward to. Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.
Ryan, however, was shaking his head as Tommy dumped his trash in the bin and placed his dishes in the wash rack. “Man, you just have all the luck, don’t you?” Ryan smirked.
For the first time in days, Tommy felt like he couldn’t come up with an argument against him.
Chapter Nine
The instructor for Tommy’s next class was Micah himself. The man nodded slightly to Tommy as he entered the room, which looked to Tommy like any other classroom in any other school he’d ever seen, complete with an overhead projector and whiteboard. Tommy felt a kind of excitement at seeing Micah there, and he eschewed his normal back of the class policy and took a desk a couple rows from the front. James took the seat right next to Tommy, and Ryan sat immediately behind James.
After a few minutes, when it was apparent that all the students had arrived and taken their seats, Micah waved one hand at the door and it slammed itself shut. Several of the students looked around at one another, unsure of how to react to the sudden surprise.
“Most of you know who I am,” Micah began. “For those who don’t, my name is Micah and I am the head of this school.” James looked over at Tommy and grinned broadly, and Tommy couldn’t help but to grin back.
Micah continued, “Your normal instructor, Professor Corbet, had a personal issue and could not be here
today. I am filling in for him. Although it is a rare thing that I teach classes these days, you will see me often as your progress in your educational journey. For one thing, any student wishing to advance to the next level must undergo a test and pass an interview with myself or one of my senior leaders. I also personally run all outings and field trips that leave the school, so you will hopefully see me then, too.”
Here, Micah’s face got much darker and foreboding. “One reason I do NOT want to have to see you is because you broke the rules,” he scowled. “Our rules are few, but they are very important and are in place for a very good reason. I take them extremely seriously, and I have little sympathy for anyone who breaks the rules no matter what their reason may be. Those who break the rules quickly find themselves banished from the school,” Micah paused, fixing the class with an intense stare. “Or worse,” he finished with a finality that say little but implied a great deal.
Abruptly, Micah’s demeanor changed. He shed the rough and dark expression like he would shed a coat, and became the friendly and open person that Tommy had come to know. “I think I’ve said enough about that, of course. So, why don’t we continue? First, let me explain the rules.”
Several students in the class opened notebooks and got pencils at the ready, so Tommy did the same. He’d always been an indifferent note taker in school – he always started out the school year with good intentions, but after a few weeks he lost his focus, and after the first couple of months he usually stopped taking notes entirely, preferring instead to doodle in his notebook. But this was something totally new, something he knew absolutely nothing about. He felt at a disadvantage, since the other students seemed to already know a great deal about the school and about magic, so he was determined to take good notes.
“The first rule,” Micah began, “Is that you will not use magic on or against your fellow students or instructors, nor on any of the staff or anyone else who inhabits this school, except under controlled circumstances when directed by your instructors. Many students get tempted to play pranks on each other using magic. I simply will not tolerate it, so don’t do it. Don’t even THINK about doing it. Is that clear?”
A young girl that Tommy had never met raised her hand from the back of the class. Micah acknowledged her with a simple “Yes?”
“What about to help someone,” the girl asked. “Like if someone is hurt, or something.”
Micah shook his head. “A good question, but the answer is still no. At some point, you may become skilled enough that we would permit you to help someone in need. But for now, you are forbidden from even making the attempt. Although there is a slim chance that you might succeed, it is far more likely that you could cause irreparable harm to your patient, yourself, or both. Is that clear?” Silence around the classroom indicated that it was, and Tommy made sure to write a firm ‘No Exceptions!’ in his notebook.
“Good. The second rule, then, is that you shall never use magic to break any laws of the outside world. This means no stealing, no trespassing, and no injuring, hurting, or coercing of other people. I think this is fairly clear. If it was against the rules for you to do it before you became a mage, then it is against the rules for you to do it after. Any questions?” Again, a few moments of silence confirmed that there were no questions.
“Finally,” Micah continued, “But most importantly, you will not practice any kind of dark or black magic.” Micah paused and regarded the room. Tommy looked back at him expectantly, since he had no idea what it was that the man was talking about. “You are all so quiet. Can anyone in the class tell me what I mean by black magic?”
Micah’s eyes scanned the room before locking with Tommy’s eyes. Tommy felt his pulse quicken and the sweat start to form on his arms and neck. “Oh god,” he thought to himself, “Please, please don’t ask me. I don’t know the answer. I don’t know anything at all. You know I don’t know the answer, why would you pick on me...?”
Then Micah, with his eyes never straying from Tommy’s, said, “Yes, Ryan? You have an answer?” and Tommy felt relief wash over him. He saw the corners of Micah’s mouth twitch up, for just a moment. If he hadn’t been staring straight at the man he would have missed it, but there was a sparkle in Micah’s eyes that said ‘Gotcha!’, and Tommy could almost see that he was laughing on the inside. Tommy’s jaw almost dropped in surprise – the man had been having fun with him!
“Dark magic is evil things, like summoning or necromancy.” Ryan beamed with pride at his answer.
Micah nodded to him. “Yes, very true. I want to be clear, though. ‘Evil’ can be a bad word to use. If I were to hurt an innocent person using only, say, fire magic, then that would be an evil thing to do, but it would not be ‘black magic’. Does that make sense?” Micah paused and looked at the class. Several of the students nodded, including Tommy, so he continued. “Summoning and Necromancy are indeed the two main types of black magic.”
Micah’s voice took on a lecturing tone again. “So, let’s talk about the lesser of the two evils, as it were. You called it ‘summoning’, but that is something of a misnomer. There really is no ‘summoning’, except perhaps in the blackest of rites, and perhaps not even then.” Tommy hoped things would get clearer – he stared at his notepad, unsure about what he should even write down. Fortunately, Micah continued. “The proper name for this type of magic is ‘conjuration’, and it goes something like this: If you infuse enough magical energy into an inanimate object, you can cause it to become animate and follow whatever orders you program into it.”
Micah looked around the room and saw open confusion on most of the student’s faces. He sighed, and began again. “Think of it like a computer. You need to provide power into the computer, in the form of electricity, and you need to give the computer instructions, in the form of a program. Conjuration, then, is building a type of computer out of just about anything, using magical energy instead of electricity.” Comprehension dawned on several faces, so Micah asked, “Can anyone tell me what problem this presents that we label it dark magic?”
Ryan’s hand was the first in the air, but Micah nodded across the room to a girl who looked to be several years Tommy’s junior. “Yes... Mary?”
The girl in question smiled and stated simply, “Computers are stupid.”
The glass giggled, but Micah smiled at Mary. “In a nutshell, yes. Think about a computer. It can do simple things fairly easily, but doing anything remotely complex requires a lot of programming.” Micah spread his hands out to his side, parallel to the ground. “Take the floor, for example. If I wanted to program something to clean the floor, I’d have to teach it what was dirt and what was not – I wouldn’t want it to strip the varnish off the wood. I’d also need to teach it how to move around your desks, when it needs to stop, what it should do with the dirt it collects, and so on. The more instructions I need to give the computer, the more power it needs. In this case, it would be quite a lot of energy.” Suddenly, a stiff breeze blew along the floor of the room. Micah brought his hands together, and all the dust and dirt on the floor was swept by the breeze into a small ball of dirt that dropped quickly onto Micah’s open palm. “All to accomplish something that is much more easily done another way.”
A couple of the students clapped at the demonstration, and Tommy couldn’t help but grin with respect at the man’s showmanship.
“So, here’s the problem. In order to conjure something that is useful, you need to use an immense amount of power. When you use that much power in a conjuration, it becomes quite dangerous; Any little flaw in the programming could have disastrous results. Let me tell you a story.” Micah sat down on the edge of the desk at the front of the room and took on a more conversational tone. “Years ago, we had a conjurer in our midst. He was a young boy, but slightly older than most of you. He was ambitious, and he was actually quite good at conjuration, even though it was already a forbidden practice in our school. This young man decided to make a conjuration to take care of some of his chores. He built
the conjuration – the ‘program’, if you will – and it actually worked. However, the conjuration was so complex it needed a lot of energy. A constant flow of energy, actually, and this young man did not want to sit and continually provide magical power to the thing. After all, what good is it to have a conjuration do his chores if he has to be there to supervise? So, he added a program to the thing so that it could seek out and gather its own magical power, and he turned it loose. But where was the biggest available source of power? Well, it was from the student himself. His conjuration leapt upon him and attacked him. It began to rapidly drain magical energy out of him, leaving him with nothing to defend himself. When there was no more magical energy to drain, the thing didn’t stop. It kept drawing on him until it devoured his very life force. The poor student was found on the floor, cold and dead.”
Micah paused to let his words sink in to the class. Tommy swallowed a lump in his throat, and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. But Micah wasn’t finished. “Even worse, after the student was gone, his conjuration lived on. It went on to attack and injure several other students before it was destroyed. It was only a matter of luck that no one else was killed.” Micah stood, his story clearly concluded. “So. My message to you is, don’t try it. Not even once, not even to see what you can do, not even to see what it’s like. There will be no appeal for anyone who is caught practicing conjuration; expulsion will be immediate and irrevocable.”
This time, Micah did not pause to ask for questions. “But far, far worse,” he continued, “is what is known as Necromancy – the magic of death. Necromancers steal life and energy from other people in order to strengthen themselves. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that it’s wrong to take someone else’s life for your own selfish use. If you needed to be told that, you wouldn’t be sitting in this class. But I want you to understand just how dangerous this type of magic is. When a necromancer steals life from someone, he absorbs that person’s strength... but also their weaknesses, as well. Fear and hatred. Sicknesses of the body and the mind. Necromancers take pieces of these things and absorb them into their own being. For this reason, necromancers inevitably end up alone, so consumed with the fears they have absorbed that they cannot stand to have others around. Their bodies decay around them from the poisons they absorb, but they hang on to life, powered by their stolen strengths.” Micah shook his head. “It is a horrible life with a terrible ending. But although we pity necromancers, we also do not give them any mercy.” Micah held his hand up, clenched into a fist, and his face was clenched into a grimace. “Any mage in this academy will destroy anyone found practicing necromancy. Without mercy, without a trial. And mark my words – more than likely, someone in this very room will be tempted to try it, despite my warnings. Someone always does, and that someone always gets caught. Always.”
The Channeler Page 6
