I ache when I think of her smile.
I am such an idiot, I think bitterly, laying back on my bed and glaring angrily at the ceiling. All she wanted was support, for me to be a friend, and I have been so consumed by self-pity that I have thrown it all away. She's the only girl that I've ever been friends with and I messed it all up.
She deserves better than me. She deserves someone who can be there for her.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes, surprised to find tears suddenly welling up. "Why are you crying?" I whisper to myself. "You're a ranger for Light's sake! It's time to act like one!"
Using a knuckle to wipe away the moisture on my cheeks, I silently vow to make everything right between us in the morning. I am going to be happy for her during this 'raising ceremony', and I am going to apologize to her for being so hard-headed. Then things can go back to being the way they were.
Then everything will get better.
I'm not sure when, but eventually I manage to drift off into a fitful sleep.
A KNOCK AT MY BEDROOM door jolts me out of my slumber.
My eyes crack open, temporarily blinded by the sunlight streaming in through my window, when I hear the door squeak open. Blinking furiously, I sit up and notice a demure girl with auburn hair
peeking into my room.
"I've been told to notify you that breakfast is being served, Sir Ranger."
When she notices that I am lying there, half naked, her eyes go wide.
"I'll... uh... be there shortly," I mumble, pulling up a blanket to cover my bare chest.
Blushing a bright red, she nods and closes the door. I can hear her giggling with someone else on the other side.
I get dressed quickly, deciding against bringing my bow and arrows. It seems like the cumbersome weapons would be terribly out of place here, and would only make me stand out more. As I throw the ranger cloak around my shoulders, however, I decide to take my father's hatchet. Somehow, leaving without it just seems wrong. I slide it into my belt loop then step out into the hall.
Following the smell of bacon, I find a large dining room located in the center of the circular tower. Round, wooden tables have been set up with chairs, and a handful of mages sit at them, talking quietly over plates of food.
Zara is nowhere to be seen.
Ignoring the profound loneliness I feel, I walk up to the open kitchen where the food is being served and pick up an empty plate. A servant in a white apron fills the plate with eggs, bacon, bread, and potatoes when I hand it to him, returning it back to me with a mug of chilled fruit juice.
My mouth begins to water almost instantly. This is easily the best meal I have had in months.
Taking my plate and my mug, I move to an empty table and sit down, picking up the fork and knife that was resting there and digging into my food without preamble. The bacon crunches as I bite into it, perfectly complementing the lightly seasoned eggs and the hearty bread. Light, I think to myself as I eat, this is amazing.
Maybe the Conclave isn't so bad after all.
Halfway through my meal, a white robed man with a bald head approaches me, bowing slightly in introduction. His appearance reminds me of the steward we had met the night before. "Ranger Lund," he says with a voice like silk, "I have come to escort you to the raising ceremony for Initiate Dennel. She has requested that you be invited to attend."
My heart leaps at his words. Zara hasn't forgotten about me! I hurriedly chew a mouthful of food before answering. "Of course. Where is it?"
"The ceremony is being held in the Pillar of Radiance," he replies evenly, his face utterly expressionless. "We are going to have to hurry if we are going to make it there in time."
I look down at my half-eaten plate regrettably, but decide that I do not want to disappoint Zara any more than I already have. Shoveling as much of the food into my mouth as I can, I stand up and nod at the steward, who looks mildly disgusted with my table manners.
The man walks with a brisk pace through the tower, and I find myself having to walk faster in order to keep up. He leads us through a labyrinth of corridors, eventually taking us to another one of those terrifying lifts.
Preparing myself mentally, I approach the column by his side.
Clutching a talisman similar to the one Zara has, he places a hand on the lift's stone surface and does something I don't understand, causing a magical door to appear in front of us. As we step inside the narrow chute, I see that a glowing platform has already formed beneath our feet.
Great, I think, feeling my stomach drop. All that stands between me and certain death is a thin layer of magic. What could go wrong?
Luckily, we make it to the bottom floor without incident, and I step out of the lift grateful that the ride is over.
This tower, from what I understand, is mostly apartments and living spaces for the mages of the Conclave. It stands just next to the Pillar of Radiance, and functions as a sort of waypoint for mages travelling to and from... whatever it is they do. Outside, there is a beautifully manicured garden and courtyard surrounded by a low wall.
I follow my escort through the courtyard, glad to have my feet on solid ground once again. After visiting this place, I have come to the firm conclusion that man was not meant to live in such high places.
These mages are completely insane.
We make our way to the middle of the compound that makes up the Conclave, and once again I find myself staring up at the greatest construction man has ever made.
The Pillar of Radiance.
Even in the daylight, I can see the pure surge of radiant magic shooting out of the apex of the tower, rising heavenward and dispersing thousands of feet in the air. It is utterly awe-inspiring, and I find myself tripping over my own feet as I stare up at it, paying little attention to the curses of the people I jostle on the street.
Shaking myself from my amazement, I pick up my pace and follow the steward into the great edifice, mumbling apologies to the people I bump against. Nearly all of them are dressed in fine clothes and mage robes, making me stand out like a pauper among nobility.
For the second time, I find myself in the great chamber on the first floor of the Pillar of Radiance, with its many-colored columns and its large, domed ceiling. The only difference is now the room is practically bursting with people, mages and merchants and powerful elites all mingling together in one great mass. I don't think I've ever seen so many people gathered in one place in my entire life. I can't help but feel a little overwhelmed, my palms starting to sweat and my heart beating faster.
If there was an assassin in this crowd, how would I spot him? How would I fight without harming a dozen people around me. This many people gathered together is madness.
Suddenly my homesickness for the forest gets much more intense.
The steward guides us to the columns, striding up to a different one this time. The man standing in front of it doesn't even question us as we approach, and before long we are rising up to the top on another platform made from magic.
I'm not sure what floor we are on when we reach the top, but judging by the view outside one of the windows, I'd say we are fairly high.
The marble hallway is filled with people, all talking excitedly with one another. The foot traffic seems to be flowing in one direction, into a room down the hall and to the right.
"This is where I leave you," the steward informs me with his soft voice. "The raising chamber is just ahead."
I nod and thank him for bringing me here before heading off in the direction of the crowd. By the time I enter the room, it is already filling up with people.
I find myself in a large, domed chamber lit only with magefyre torches. In the center of the room, surrounded by the onlookers, is a priest of the Light in his ceremonial white robes and veil. Beside him is a wooden stand holding up a large silver pitcher. But that isn't what catches my eye. Next to him stands Zara, straight-backed and facing the audience, her head held proudly and her eyes closed. Her hair is up in a style I have never seen
before, braided and clipped leaving her shoulders bare. Her face practically glows in the bluish light, her features striking like they had been the day we had that meeting in Forest Hill. Most noticeable of all, though, is the sheer dress she is wearing, a thin fabric that clings to her body, accentuating every curve in a way that makes my cheeks flush with heat.
She looks absolutely gorgeous.
The crowd is buzzing, talking about the strangeness of this whole situation, commenting on how young and beautiful she is.
I cannot help but agree with them.
Then, the priest steps forward, raising his hand above his head.
"In the name of the Light, and by the power vested in me by the Radiant Church," intones the priest, lifting his voice high and completely silencing the crowd. "I anoint you, Zara Dennel, initiate of the Conclave, and pronounce you worthy." He picks the silver pitcher off the tray and pours a trickle of something on Zara's head. It looks like water.
She tenses as it dribbles on her head, clearly not expecting the action, but manages to keep her eyes closed and her face serene.
The priest continues. "In accordance with holy tradition, and at the behest of the High Magus and the Circle of Magisters, I name you full mage in good standing with the Conclave. May the Light and these witnesses bear record."
With a gesture from the priest, two white-robed stewards hurry to the dais bearing an ornately spun robe of the bluest fabric. They drape it about her shoulders, helping her slide her arms through the sleeves, and tie it up with a silky blue sash. When this is done, they back away into the crowd, their heads bowed in reverence.
"Mages have a solemn duty to the realm and her people," the priest goes on, turning away from Zara to address the crowd. "They are charged with keeping the peace, maintaining good relations with the crown and, above all, watching over the Heart of Light, the very power source of the Arc of Radiance. There is no greater charge than this. Do you, Zara Dennel, swear to uphold these duties with all of your might, mind and heart?"
Zara opens her eyes and looks directly at the priest. "Yes, I so swear."
"Then go forth, Magus, and fulfill your sacred oath."
Abruptly the crowd bursts into applause, the mages surrounding the dais showering her with praise and words of encouragement. Her face splits into a stunning smile, and for an instant I feel nothing but pride for her.
She deserves this, I think, bringing my hands together to clap as well. She's nothing short of brilliant.
Our eyes meet and her smile widens, and making her look even more beautiful than she had before. I'm sure that I see tears in her eyes, though from this distance I can't be sure.
Zara has worked so hard for this for the past five years and it has finally paid off. This is a special day for her.
I suddenly feel very ashamed for the way I have been acting lately. Bouts of melancholy have often ruled my emotions, even since I was a child, but rarely have they made me act like this – brooding and snapping at my closest friends. Did I really say those things? Did I so blatantly tell her that mages and rangers aren't meant to mix?
The shame transforms into embarrassment, making me feel like a fool.
Mages from the crowd begin to break away and approach her, shaking her hand and congratulating her enthusiastically. They are no doubt excited to meet the youngest Magus in the Conclave's history.
I'll let her have her moment, I think, backing away as many people move forward. We'll talk when this is all over.
Feeling an odd mix of emotions, I make my way to the chamber's exit, stepping out into the hall and taking a deep breath of air. It is then that I notice a woman leaning against the far wall, staring at me with a curious expression.
She is older, perhaps in her thirties, with an old scar on her cheek and a golden braid pulled over her shoulder. She is tall for a woman, almost as tall as I am, with a lean, muscled body and hard features that have been tanned by the sun. Her calculating eyes look me up and down, as blue and as cold as ice, and her thin lips are pursed together as if she disapproves of what she sees.
The thing that gives me pause, however, is the grey-green ranger's cloak slung over her shoulder. That, and the longsword strapped to her waist.
Looking me straight in the eye, she lifts up a finger and beckons for me to come forward.
Not sure what else to do, I oblige, crossing the distance between us with more than a little trepidation. As I open my mouth to ask what her name is, though, she interrupts me.
"When I heard that a ranger's apprentice arrived in the city last night with a group of mages, I thought it was a joke." Her voice is low and dusky, her tone as sharp as a knife. "Then, when I heard that he met with the High Magus and the Circle, I thought that my informants were outright lying to me."
I open my mouth again to say something, but she raises a hand to cut me off.
"I wanted to come here and see for myself if the rumors were true. I wanted to meet the grunt who had abandoned his post. I'm surprised yet again to see that it is none other than Elias Keen's apprentice."
Frowning, I finally manage to get a word in. "I'm sorry, but have we met?"
"No," she says flatly, folding her arms in front of her. The leather armor she wears creaks with the movement. "But I know who you are, Owyn Lund. And I am extremely curious as to why you've forsaken the Ranger's Oath."
"I have not forsaken the Oath," I say, suddenly feeling defensive.
"Oh?" She replies derisively. "Then where is Elias? It is against protocol for a master and his apprentice to be separated during training."
"My master sent me here to give information to the High Magus directly. Right now, he is off on a mission of his own, and will later come and find me."
"The High Magus," she repeats, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "And what, might I ask, was so important that you had to tell her alone?"
"I... I can't say," I reply, breaking eye contact and looking down at my boots. "I have been sworn to secrecy."
The ranger woman pauses for a moment, considering, before responding. When she does, her voice is full of conviction. "My name is Tamara Moyle, First Warden of the Rangers and Watcher of the East. I command you, by the authority of the Ranger's Oath, to report to the Grand Lodge in the Ashwood." Fixing me with a steely expression, she lowers her hand and places it on the longsword at her hip. "We will be leaving at once."
Chapter Ten
Zara
I’ve never before felt such a strange mixture of excitement and fear in my entire life.
Everything is different now, I think, feeling the weight of the blue robes on my shoulders. I’m officially a mage.
I stand upon the dais, surrounded by smiling people. Everyone is congratulating me on becoming the youngest mage in the Conclave’s history. Even though I smile and thank those around me, I feel strangely detached, as though it is not me standing in front of these people, but someone else. These people don’t even know who I am.
Still, I cannot deny that the attention feels good.
I had spent the night in the Pillar of Radiance, completing a time-honored vigil in a small chapel located near the top. I had been told that it was a time for reflection and prayer before fully committing myself to serve in the Conclave, and that I should use the time to consider my personal relationship with the Light. Though I did spend a considerable amount of time pondering and praying, I ended up falling asleep on one of the cushions at the base of the altar. Still, I feel fatigue gnawing away at me beneath all of the makeup and the smiles. There is no doubt in my mind that it will be an early night for me as soon as I am alone.
But for now, the exhilaration of the moment keeps my senses sharp.
“Zara Dennel!” Exclaims a familiar voice, and I turn to see my old professor Evoker Laramie beaming at me. “Congratulations, Magus!”
“Evoker Laramie!” I disregard any attempted decorum and throw my arms around him, enveloping him in a hug that he returns warmly.
“When you disappeare
d from my lectures I feared that maybe you had decided to quit the Academy,” he says softly, taking a step back and glancing at my new set of mage’s robes. “Now look at you! I always knew that you were destined for great things, my dear.”
“Thank you, Magus,” I reply, suddenly overcome by a wave of emotion. This man had taught me almost everything I know about magic.
He laughs, his wrinkled face splitting into a wide grin. “Just call me Laramie. After all, we’re colleagues now!”
I laugh as well. “What a strange concept. It’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Nonsense,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Listen, Zara, I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but when you have a chance, come visit me at the Academy. We'll take a walk around the gardens. I have about a thousand questions that I’m dying to ask you.”
“Of course.” I nod, waving goodbye just as another three people stride up and begin talking to me. It seems that I am occupied for the space of an hour, though in reality it is probably much shorter, before I finally manage to disengage myself from the group of mages. The priest of the Light had already departed, as well as a good number of the attendees, and I find myself breathless, overcome by the suddenness of it all.
That is when I find my thoughts stray to Owyn.
I had seen him, standing there amid the applause, and he had smiled at me, that lopsided grin that I have come to adore.
I saw something new in his eyes, as well. There was a look of pride, a joyful glow that filled me with a sense of giddiness that surpassed the excitement I felt at being raised to the status of Magus. There was a strange twinkle in his eyes, suggesting something deeper than friendship existing between us, though it was hard to tell for sure because we were standing so far apart.
One thing is certain – in that look, it seemed that we had reconciled our differences and have come to see each other for what we truly are: friends who care for one another, despite the vastly different circumstances of our lives. Maybe even something more.
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