by Rick Field
She giggled when she felt something poke at her magic, but the next instance, she was mortified when her magic poked back, completely without her consent, causing the runes and glyphs all around her to glow a murky red. She felt herself draw pale at the thought of having killed the chamber she was in, when the runes flashed through a wide array of different colors, and poked her magic once more, harder.
Her magic poked back, also harder. This time, the runes glowed green and blue, rather than an even red. Again, the room seemed to freeze, either in shock, or indecision, Liane didn't know. Slowly, life seemed to ebb back into the walls, and magic started to tighten the confines of the room, stifling the air, making it hard to breathe.
More scans went through her, and the next poke felt as if it went completely through her chest and out the back. Her magic no longer fluttered, but rumbled behind her ribs, reacting to the magic in the room. The air thickened further, and Liane struggled to breathe. Fear gripped her. What was happening? Why was the magic in the room poking her magic? Why was her magic reacting so violently? Feeling it shift from a regular, calm, earth-state to a fleeting air-state was unwelcome, and Liane gasped for breath.
She only wanted to learn magic! She meant no harm! Couldn't the room see that?
She didn't know how long she was in the room, focusing intently on breathing, using every ounce of her strength to force her ribs to expand and contract, forcing the heavy air through her lungs, getting the required oxygen into her blood.
Ignoring her own magic and the magic of the room seemed to be the best choice for the moment.
She stopped ignoring the magic in and around her when a dull rumble started in the walls of the chamber, the glyphs cycling through the various colors they could take, before flashing, and going out, the door reappearing.
At once, the air pressure was back to normal, and Liane gulped four deep breaths of sweet, life-giving air. The beating in her heart died down almost instantly, and she felt strangely rested, as if she hadn't just spent a large amount of time struggling to breathe. At the same time, her agitated magic felt flat, at once returning to the earth-state, as if it hadn't been in an argument with the Arbitrator of Elements. Standing up, she walked out, curious as to what name she was about to receive.
She walked out into the total silence of the ceremonial hall. Everyone stared at her, nobody spoke a word. When she heard nothing from the Doctora, Liane looked down at herself, trying to make out her element by the color of her robes. Rather than an even color, they had turned a strange crystal blue that was halfway in between the light blue of air and the dark blue of water, and the bottom rim was covered with red and gold flames that reached up to her knees, flickering strangely as if the bottom of her robes really were on fire. She swallowed. Robes were supposed to be even in color.
Liane turned to look above the door.
Her mouth opened into a silent 'oh' at the words that had formed, and at once she recognized the reason for the silence. For what was written there was not an element in the way that she had learned, and she wondered what it meant. Again, her eyes traced the magically glowing words formed above the door to the Arbitrator of Elements.
The MagicWarper.
Chapter Three
Liane sat, still stunned, in her usual spot at the back of the ceremonial hall. Since her naming as 'The MagicWarper', now a quarter of an hour ago, nobody had said a word to her. Contrarily, a lot of words were exchanged about her, as people whispered and shot surreptitious glances in her direction, only to look away when she noticed and looked back. Trying to get her nerves under control, she quietly started humming her favorite chant, hearing the words in her mind, yet withholding her magic from reaction.
Milor had been called directly after her, and he had not been able to do more than give her an encouraging nod. At least it meant that he hadn't totally abandoned her. Quietly humming, she waited for him to receive his name.
His naming ceremony finally came to an end, and Liane smiled when his white robes turned the golden yellow of the lightning element. Milor Lightningworker sounded like a good name for her friend, and she smiled faintly at him when he sat down next to her.
“Your name is as unusual as you are, My Lady,” Milor said on a light tone after he sat down. He smiled faintly, about as much emotion as was commonly accepted under the Decorum, and went on, “Although I have to admit, it fits you.”
She blushed. “Thank you, My Lord Lightningworker. I feel your name suits you, as well.”
“Thank you, My Lady,” Milor said with a faint nod, although she could tell he was pleased. “May I ask why you have received such an… unusual… name?”
She could plainly hear the hesitation before and after the word unusual, as if he was looking for the correct word, and not entirely happy with what he had come up with. He was still only ten years old – just as old as she was. For the past few years she had tried so hard to grow up that she sometimes forgot that she was still only ten, still a child.
“I had hoped to receive a normal name, My Lord. It seems, however, that magic and the Arbitrator had other ideas.” She swallowed, and looked down at her unusual robes. “Although I cannot admit to being unhappy about the clothing.” The girl gave a faint smile at the flames that danced on the bottom of her robes, and on the cuffs of her sleeves.
Milor nodded. “If I may say so, they are as unusual as you are, and personally, I find them to suit you very well. And I notice that you have attempted to deviate from my question. Your Decorum is improving, My Lady.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” Liane answered. He nodded, understanding that she didn't want to answer his question.
“As you are now the center of attention regardless of your choice, have you changed your mind about becoming Warlock or Mage, My Lady?” Milor asked, changing the subject. “After all, as the only MagicWarper, no matter which area of study you choose, you will always be singular and different.”
“I have not had a chance to give it more thought,” Liane replied honestly, sighing as she realized that, probably for the rest of her life, she would be looked at as different. “May I ask for your thoughts, My Lord?”
Milor looked at her for a few seconds. “Personally, I would suggest remaining as Mage. I feel that, with your ability in magic, you will do very well as a Mage. And even though you are different, there is no need to be very different.”
Liane nodded once more. “Thank you for your advice, My Lord.” She turned to him. “May I ask a personal question?”
Milor frowned slightly, then nodded his ascent. “You may ask your question, My Lady. I reserve the right not to answer, however.”
“Thank you, My Lord.” She drew a breath. “Even if I chose to become a Mage, shall we still be friends? I find myself with a lack of friends, and would not like to lose the one I have.”
Milor was silent, and for a few moments, she was afraid he would not answer. Finally, he drew a breath. “I believe I recognize the sentiment, My Lady. I would like our friendship to continue as well.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“Never thank me for friendship, My Lady. Neither of us knows what faces us, nor do we know how hard it may or may not be to maintain our friendship in the future.”
She pulled up her shoulders in a conservative shrug. “I felt it needed to be said, My Lord.”
The remainder of the ceremony took another hour and a half, during which the remaining initiates received their new last names. Nobody else got a strange name, and Liane was uncomfortably aware of the stares and whispers about her.
“I seem to be missing a few of our fellow students, My Lord,” Liane said as the ceremony drew to a close and the hall started to shine with the various different colors of Initiate's Robes.
Milor nodded affirmatively. “The Lord Pertogan's aptitude test signified a talent in Necromancy, and has been chosen as a direct apprentice by the Lord Chilldu, the Necromancer. The Lady Monolith, on the other hand, seems to have aptitude to become a Dru
id, and has been accepted as a direct apprentice by the Lord Xard, the Arch-Druid.”
Liane merely nodded as they waited for the last remaining Initiate to receive a name. “They are lucky, My Lord.”
Milor shrugged. “They jump directly to Apprentice rank. In that regard, you could say they are lucky, My Lady. But, should they fail, they will be less than any of us, for they will be cast back to Initiates, and will find it very hard to rejoin regular education.”
Liane accepted that information and did not talk further, merely hummed her chant quietly. Milor had been her friend of the last month, and had gotten used to her humming to calm or soothe her nerves.
Finally, the last ceremony ended, and the moment she could, Liane practically dragged Milor along to the dining hall. They both ordered dinner before walking outside and eating under the fake sunlight of the Academy's charms. They were the only students to do so, and Liane was glad for the silence and solitude. Milor kept his peace and obliged her.
After dinner, the Initiates gathered once more in the ceremonial hall, only to be asked to leave with one of two Doctorii. There was a burly looking Warlock for those who wished to become Warlocks, and there was an almost fragile-looking Mage for those who wished to become Mages. Sharing one last look with Milor, Liane walked to the other girls, queuing next to the Mage.
It took less than five minutes, and Liane caught one last glimpse of Milor when they left the hall. As they did so, the Initiate's robes of the Warlocks-to-be changed style and color, becoming more form-fitting and turning the black of night. The trim on those robes were in the color of their element, light blue for air, dark blue for water, brown for earth, red for fire, gray for metal, green for wood, yellow for lightning and regular blue for ice. None of the three shades of blue in use matched the strange crystal-like blue of Liane's own robes.
Milor, the boys, and the Warlock walked to a second, smaller room on the ground floor while Liane and the other girls followed the Mage up a flight of stairs to an almost identical room on the first floor. As soon as they started to move, the robes of the Mages-to-be changed style as well, although they did not change color and remained in the predominant colors representing their magic and their new names. The Mage Robes were looser, allowing for a wider range of motion in the arms, permitting for ease of casting with longer incantations.
As with all rooms Liane had seen at the Academy, this room had giant windows that allowed plenty of light to enter.
“This is where you may become Assistants to a Proctor, My Ladies,” the Mage said. “Should you be willing to become one, please form a line on that side of the room.” She was indicating the right side of the room, and Liane blinked twice as the choice was presented to her once more. Did she, or did she not, still want to become an Assistant?
Yes, she still wanted to become an Assistant, and so she grabbed her courage. Stepping forward, she joined a dozen other hopefuls on the right-hand side of the room, and turned to face the left side, lifting her head high. Her decision was met with, at first, stunned silence, then decisive muttering. The other girls, knowing of her problems with magic but not the reason why, were quite decisive in their reaction.
The Mage nodded, and motioned with her hand. A door none of the new Initiates had noticed on the other side of the room opened, and allowed the potential sixth year Proctors to enter. Only ten had decided on being Proctors, and they slowly looked over the girls standing in line.
Nervousness jumped up in Liane's throat, and she hummed her chant a little louder, focusing more on the words in her mind, trying to calm herself down.
All of the sixth years frowned when they looked at Liane. Her unusual robes did nothing to attract the attention of a potential Proctor, and the girl couldn't help but close her eyes, aware that her chances of becoming an Assistant were slipping away with each upper year that passed her by.
The last girl to enter the room also frowned; however, her frown was in curiosity as she passed Liane by and recognized what she was humming.
“Do you know the words of what you are humming, My Lady?” the sixth year asked – nay, demanded. Liane looked up, suddenly finding a finger of the older girl below her chin, preventing her from looking down. The finger was replaced by a hand, preventing Liane from looking anywhere but the older girl's eyes.
“Y-Yes, My Lady.”
“I find that curious, for that is magic that should not be known to a ten-year-old Initiate. Please add the words for me, My Lady,” the sixth year demanded.
Liane added the runic words, the same words that she had been repeating for the last two years, ever since Mariam had taught them to her, during that wonderful first year here at the Academy. Silently, her mind translated, I summon magic, the eternal force that makes the world turn and the sun rise and set...
The conversations in the room vanished as Liane chanted, out loud, yet still refused to allow her magic to react to the incantation. The girl released Liane, and lifted both her hands, palms upward. “Place your hands on mine, My Lady. And please chant for real, this time.”
Liane swallowed nervously, and reached up to place her hands, palms-down on top of the older girl's upturned hands. Releasing the tight hold on her magic, she restarted her chant. I summon magic, the eternal force that makes the world turn and the sun rise and set. I summon magic, the eternal force that governs stars and moons, the power that shapes reality.
To Liane's surprise, the older girl set in halfway through the chant, mirroring the words perfectly. Liane's magic reacted the moment it was allowed to react to her first note, but stabilized immediately upon the older girl's starting of the same chant, now half a verse behind Liane and keeping the exact same pace.
The world darkened to Liane's eyes, her magic-sight coming to the fore by itself, and she could see that, when her first iteration ended, her magic was now in a perfect synchronicity with the magic of the other girl. She set in her second round, her voice gaining strength as she did so, feeling the external magic react to her chant, and her own magic start to reach out to her arms from her chest. Her strange partner's own magic reacted in similar fashion, Liane could see, and together, they worked through the second round of the chant, and Liane immediately set in the third round.
The world was completely dark to Liane now, only herself, her partner, and the magic remaining to her magical sight, the magic of the world around them fueling them both as they continued to chant. Liane's magic touched the magic of her chanting partner, attaching itself to it just as the strange magic of the other girl attached itself to Liane's.
To Liane, the contact felt incredible, as if being attached to a well of magic that was so far beyond her that it was hard to describe, yet her lips never ceased their incessant chant, repeating the verse for a fourth time.
Suddenly, the hands of the other girl were jerked away. “Tòmìr Ôrkàm! Enough!” the older girl barked as she jerked her hands away, staring at Liane, just as Liane stared at the girl. The world had returned with startling intensity, and only now did Liane feel how tired she was, and that her chanting partner was holding a blazing globe of light. “You have raised a formidable amount of energy with that chant, My Lady,” the girl declared, first staring at the ball of light, then to the younger girl. Only now did Liane realize that the ball was made of pure magic.
The hall was still completely silent, everyone staring at the sixth year and the Initiate.
“May I ask your name, My Lady?” The older girl finally asked, her voice soft but laced with something intangible that made the question sound like a directive. The ball of light in her hand dispersed, a wave of magic washing over everyone in the room, tugging at clothes and ruffling hair. It felt like a hot wind as it passed over them, before Liane saw all the runes and glyphs on the walls become visible as the school's defense wards dispersed the magic. The younger girl swallowed at the sight of what her chant had caused.
“Liane, the MagicWarper, My Lady,” Liane muttered, returning her focus to the sixth ye
ar in front of her.
The older girl nodded. “My name is Cassandra Airmistress.”
Some of the other potential Proctors released their breaths, realizing that the show was over, and knowing what was to come. Cassandra ignored them, and by extension, so did Liane. “Do you wish to become an Assistant, My Lady?”
“Yes, My Lady. Very much so.”
“I wish to extend the invitation to you to become my Assistant, My Lady. I do not believe I need to explain my reasons why. As is requested by the Academy, please ask me your questions so that you may decide whether to accept my offer.”
Liane swallowed. She heard two potential Proctors whisper, yet deliberately didn't turn to them, ignoring them completely. One question was on the forefront of her mind. “How did you know the chant, My Lady?”
The older girl, now her potential Proctor, Liane realized, nodded once. “That is a fair question, My Lady. I did not formally take Rituals & Ceremonies, and have only started my education in Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols. I prefer to learn a wide variety of subjects, however, and as such, I have learned a few things, such as those chants I find interesting or useful, from areas outside my studies.”
The younger girl nodded, accepting the information. Looking her potential Proctor up and down, Liane once again noticed the decorations pinned to the older girl's chest. “My Lady, my I ask about your insignia?”
“My studies are an excellent question, My Lady,” Cassandra replied, and Liane felt her chest swell. It seemed that her potential Proctor gave positive encouragement on occasion. “As you may not know the insignia, I will explain them to you.” She pointed to the one on the far right. “This insignia signifies my mastery of the elemental magics. I have successfully completed five out of eight years, and as such, have mastered five of the eight elements taught at the Academy. They are, air, fire, water, earth, and lightning. This year we will be studying metal.”
She pointed to the one next to it. “I have graduated a two year course in Transmutation and Alchemy, and am thus an accredited Mage in that regard. I am taking a four year course in General Applications, and will be in my third year this year. This makes me an Apprentice in that regard. I have also finished a two-year course in Healing and Potions, once again, granting me Mage level in that area of study.”
