Well, that would be easy. Just keep his head down and do enough to not get labeled incompetent.
“Congratulations, Terrance, you have passed the first trial in its entirety. Are you ready for the second trial? Of course you are. Do twenty pushups.”
Terrance cocked an eyebrow, unsure of how seriously to take the new command. “That’s the second trial?”
“Are you going to do it or not?”
Terrance got down on the ground, started to do pushups. At number five, Arnt began to pepper him with more questions.
“Why do you want to join the Mages' Guild?”
“To make the world a better place.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Arnt laughed anyways. “Sure. Why not make the world a better place somewhere else?”
8, 9, 10.
“Mages' Guild pays better.”
“Well, why not go work at the Palace? They’d pay even better, for a smart person like you.”
13, 14, 15.
“I want to use magic.”
“You’re full of shit. Department of Resource Management uses magic the least of all the departments, aside from Genealogy and Recruitment. Why do you want to be a mage?”
Terrance hit twenty, rolled over on his back.
“No, you’re not done. Not until you give me a straight answer.”
“What?”
“More pushups. Go.”
Terrance felt a sense of mild panic rise up within him, alongside his shaking arms. He’d been comparing himself to Wile this whole time and thinking himself pretty fit; that particular illusion was coming crashing down. He also couldn’t very well say that he wanted to join the Mages' Guild in order to bring it down from the inside. He had to make a generic, inoffensive version of the truth.
“Power.”
“Interesting,” said Arnt. “But again, why not the Palace?”
“You know why.”
Arnt laughed. “Fine, you’re smart. Then why the Department of Resource Management?”
Terrance was winded and his arms were shaking. This had better end soon. “Organization is power.”
Arnt finally seemed satisfied. Terrance hit his second set of twenty and once again collapsed onto his back. He lay there for just a few seconds before Arnt was at him again. “Why are you stopping?”
“I answered your question.”
“You answered my first question. I personally don’t mind that you took so long, but it looks like you might mind. Maybe think on that while you’re answering the next few questions.” Arnt seemed to be enjoying this, damn him.
Terrance slowly rolled over onto his arms again, groaning with effort.
“What qualifies you to work in Resource Management?”
“I’m a shopkeeper’s assistant and already do that kind of work.”
“Good, you’re being honest now. You’re still out of your league, way out, but you’re on the right path. Why have you stopped doing pushups?”
Terrance painfully lowered himself down, then up again. On the way back down his arms collapsed. He caught himself with his elbows, saving himself from hitting his jaw on the stone floor. He tried to push himself up again but he couldn’t make it happen.
“Fine, fine,” said Arnt. “You’ve passed the second trial.”
Terrance rolled over, panting hard with arms of jelly.
“Normally we’d do the third trial now, but I want you to go home and rest up. I’m not a cruel man.”
Terrance was stiff, and flinched when Anne tried to curl up into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just sore.”
“Every time you go to that place you get hurt.” She shifted so she could face him, making him grimace again. This was the most sore he could ever remember his arms being. He tried to shrug, but one arm was trapped by Anne, and the other was filled with pain. It wasn’t even the same motion as a pushup, but it apparently involved enough of the pushup-related muscles that it could still punish him.
“It’s the cost,” he said.
“Well, what if you just… didn’t pay the cost.”
“You mean cheat?”
“You could just not go back. Stop getting hurt.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“No one’s making you go back.”
“I have to take them down. What they’re doing is wrong.”
“A lot of things are wrong.”
“But not this wrong.”
“Fine, it’s wrong. Why do you have to be the one to fix it?”
“Because someone has to.”
“Someone else. Someone with less to lose.” She tried to snuggle closer, but the movement only made his arm start screaming in pain. He winced, pushing her away.
He thought better of the symbolism of that motion, pulled her in again- but in a way that didn’t hurt quite so badly. “They killed Aaron.”
“Keep living.”
“They killed my mother too.”
“You’re not the only one to lose family to them.” Anne spoke in a hiss. It was such a departure from her usual sugar-sweet voice that it shocked him. “They killed my mother.”
“I remember.”
“And I kept living. I didn’t go on some suicide mission, trying to seek revenge. I kept being there for my friends, for you. I didn’t go trying to kill the storm. Yes, I talked to Frederick, and he thinks you’re an idiot too- but he doesn’t think you’re serious. He’s convinced you’re going to sober up any day now, come back to living with us, trying to build a future.”
“A future? Where any one of us can be killed on a whim?”
“You want to save the world, is that it?” She turned away quickly, but not before the tears started to form. “You’re my world, Terrance. Who’s going to save you?”
8
Terrance went back to the Mages' Guild.
Arnt was there, waiting. “You’re ready for the third trial?”
Terrance gave a nod.
“Good. Today is a treat for you. You get to learn your first bit of magic.” Arnt pulled out a nondescript tome and turned to a page about three quarters of the way through. “This will be a healing spell. This third trial you’ll be able to redo if you fail, so don’t worry if things are difficult at first.”
They went through a series of mental exercises designed to calm and focus the mind. After Terrance had the hang of those, they went over how to hold and properly release a connection to magic.
“This connection, it’s very important, but it’s not magic. It’s a connection to magic. You can hold this connection as long as you want; it’s only when you harness the magic and use it for something that others can sense it from a distance- and, if you’re not authorized for that use, it’s then that the Inquisitors get angry. Try grabbing on to the connection, but don’t use it.”
It took a few tries, but Terrance successfully grabbed the connection- and it was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was the stormy exultant moment before climax, but it was more powerful- and it didn’t go away.
“Now here’s our first use of magic- and only use this when I tell you. You’re not a Mage yet, and any unauthorized use will still get you killed rather than simply punished. Do you understand?”
Terrance nodded, and then Arnt began the explanation of healing- first how to do it and, second, how to direct those abilities to a specific point on the body.
Terrance wanted to do it right away, but he held off. A part of his mind could hear himself panting with anticipation, and another part was listening to what Arnt was telling him, but most of it was enraptured with the bliss of the connection.
Then Arnt made a cut on Terrance’s forearm- close to the elbow, so it wouldn’t be fatal, but still incredibly painful. The magic didn’t deaden the pain- if anything, it amplified it. Terrance could feel himself shaking, from the pain and from holding back his healing.
Finally Arnt gave him release. “You are now given permission to use magic.”
Terrance pulled from the con
nection, directed it to his arm. It was satisfying, so satisfying, like drinking water after three hours outside on a hot day, or getting a huge new shipment organized and onto the shelves. The pain went away, but that was secondary to the feeling of using magic.
That feeling went away all too soon.
“Good,” said Arnt. “Now, I want you to only heal the cut on your left arm.”
Terrance looked at his left arm, confirmed that there was no cut there. While he did that, Arnt sliced open his right arm again, then sliced open his left.
The cuts were wider this time, deeper. Terrance’s eyes started to water. He pulled on the magic, directed it towards his left arm- and only his left arm. It healed, and it took all of Terrance’s self-control to not heal the right arm. He saw the bleeding, knew that it was serious- but even more importantly, he knew healing the wound would bring that satisfaction again.
After half a minute Arnt spoke again, gave him permission to heal the right arm.
“Good, good,” he said. “You can release the connection now.”
Terrance released his grip on magic, and it felt as if his whole body was descending. The soreness returned, the mad urges to use magic went away, and he felt the sudden need to sleep.
“Congratulations, son. You’re a Mage now.” Arnt smiled and stuck out his hand. When he had a firm grip, he pulled Terrance in tight and whispered. “Remember: unauthorized use of magic still carries a harsh penalty. It’s not death, but you just might think it worse.”
“I know. Why are you telling me again?”
Terrance’s question was answered as Arnt’s knife slammed into his side.
“Do you have the self-control to be a Mage?”
Terrance began panicking. His side was spasming with pain and pouring out blood. How long could he survive a wound like that? He had to start his calculations over when Arnt’s blade went straight through his right wrist, causing a spasm of pain and blood.
“Don’t heal, boy.”
Terrance collapsed onto the floor in shock. He saw — more than felt — the next two stabbings. What he felt was his life draining away. Then Arnt made a tiny cut on Terrance’s forehead.
“On my mark, you can heal… but only the one on the forehead,” he commanded. He made as if to say the words, then pulled back. Grinned. Feinted again, grinned wider. Finally, he gave the sign.
Terrance grasped at magic, desperately grabbing on to the connection. His desperation only increased once he grasped it. The pain magnified and the desire to let the magic flood through his body was just barely resistible. He directed one tiny bit of magic and pulled it to his forehead, making it heal.
“Good. You’re good. And you’re almost dead. You are given authorization to heal yourself fully.”
Terrance shook as he let the magic crash into him and close up his wounds. The delirium of magic use combined with the blood loss; he could swear there were stars, entire galaxies, spinning rapidly on the stone ceiling.
He let go of his connection to magic, and the spinning galaxies were replaced with good old-fashioned dizziness. He still managed to get up off the floor, somehow, and return to an unsteady standing position.
“That was the final test,” said Arnt. “You’re a Mage now.”
Arnt stuck out his hand in congratulations. Terrance shrunk away, causing Arnt to laugh uproariously. “You’ll thank me later, son. Now go. Eat, rest. Tomorrow you’ve got training.”
Terrance stumbled backwards, hitting the door frame on his way out.
Arnt yelled after him. “You’re going to love me for this!”
Part II
Training
9
One Month Later
“He said it would be tough, but I was not prepared for what Arnt did. Can you believe that last part? I mean, when I told my dad what happened, he was the angriest I’ve seen him in years. He wouldn’t believe we let people like that into the Mages' Guild. I mean, we’re the good guys, right?” He briefly stopped to catch a breath — not to pant, or wheeze, but to simply catch one breath — before launching back into his tirade. “You get someone like Arnt selecting who’s coming in and soon enough the guild will be entirely people like him. How are we supposed to lead if all we select for is how much torture we can withstand?”
Adolfo finally stopped, and focused on the two Mages' Guild recruits who had been listening, taking stock for the first time of their expressions. Angelika was wide-eyed, but that was not surprising. Terrance hadn’t seen her normal yet.
“You’re so brave,” said Angelika. “If my dad heard me saying anything bad about the Mages' Guild at all, he would kill me. But… I agree. Arnt is a stain on our good name.”
“What Arnt did hurt,” said Terrance, “but is he really that different from the rest of the Mages' Guild?” He could still remember seeing Aaron torn apart limb from limb, the look of pleasure on the Inquisitor’s face. What Arnt did was nothing.
“Are you kidding?” said Adolfo. “Yeah, the Department of Inquisition has to do some bad stuff, but look at the rest of us. We defend Nordheim against those who would destroy us. We build sewers- do you know how many people would die of sickness without our sewers? We help the government. Our materials keep people warm.”
“Yeah,” said Angelika. “That’s why you joined, right? I mean, people don’t just join organizations that they think are evil.”
“Unless you’re an evil fuck like Arnt.”
“What did you say about my daddy?!” The girl walking over was small, fierce, and chillingly familiar. Tightly wound, controlled, haughty. She unleashed herself at Adolfo. “My daddy selected you, he did you a favor- you were failures, you weren’t going to get in, but he was nice to you because he likes your parents- and this is how you repay him? That’s right, Adolfo- you failed the test, and you only got in because your mo-o-ommy is letting you ruin her legacy. Not your dad- he’s likeable enough, but he’s just as much of a fuckup as you. And you, Angelika- you should know better. Your parents were wrecks, losers, for the first part of their career, until they chose the right people to follow. Learn from them.”
The girl turned to Terrance, studying him. “You. You have heart. My mother said you writhed, but you writhed like a man. I might like you, if you don’t fall prey to these pussies right here.”
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome. And think about it. Next time it better not be a question.”
She stalked away, off to intimidate another group of recruits.
“Just our luck to be placed with Johanna,” said Adolfo. “That girl is poison.”
Angelika nodded. “She’s bad, but we’re in now. Her parents don’t have direct power over us; they’d have to go through Gottfried, and he’s… reasonable. If we stick together, she can’t hurt us.”
“So what about you?” Adolfo asked Terrance. “Is Johanna’s favored one gonna stick with us, or take the easy way out? After all, she’s not really that different from the rest of the Mages' Guild.”
Terrance was saved from answering by a man at the front of the room calling them to order.
“Greetings, mages-to-be!” yelled the middle-aged man. He was tall and wiry, with a commanding, detached presence. “You have all been selected to be here, first for your magical abilities and then because you passed our… rigorous recruitment process. I’m Gottfried, for those who do not know me, and I’ll be the one charged with your induction into our venerable establishment. For those who do know me, be aware that though I may have affection for you and your kin, I will not let that cloud my judgment in any of the important matters that shall fill our days in the coming weeks. You are mages in training, and you shall be treated as such.
“With that said, we shall endeavor to make any hardships endured in this training positive, worthwhile learning experiences that have direct applicability to your future responsibilities as a mage.” Those last words seemed to be directed at Arnt, and Johanna’s scowl bore out that assessment.
�
�Now, today will be a day of merriment for most of you, but to those of you who are the first of your lineage to be accepted to the Mages' Guild, we shall have a special informational meeting in the room to your left.”
The gathering broke up and Terrance began to walk towards the room Gottfried had pointed out.
“Bye bye, yokel,” said Adolfo. His smile suggested camaraderie but so had Arnt’s at first.
Angelika laughed uncomfortably.
On his way he passed Johanna, and she flashed him that same smile. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” she said. “Inside and out.”
“You’re going to notice a lot of things here in the Mages' Guild that you may consider shocking,” said Gottfried. “We do not play by the same rules as the rest of the world. We have the power and responsibility of magic, and we must uphold it, doing things that may not make sense to an outside observer.
“You will begin to drift away from your family and friends. They will resent you for the positive changes you’re making in yourself, and the hard choices that you’ll have to make. That’s okay. Let them float away. You’ll have a new family here, new friends. You may even choose to live here, should you rise far enough to be given the opportunity!
“Now I’m going to address the question likely most present in your mind, especially given your age- why so many women? Women are to stay at home and tend to the wash and the children, is that not what you have been taught? I say simply- magical talent is too rare, too precious to waste. Why make them cook, when they can cast? And unlike most demanding jobs, we have structures in place such that women can work and continue to have children.
“The Mages' Guild is the only sensible choice for an ambitious woman who does not wish to marry into palace royalty.”
Terrance tried to imagine Anne as a mage, but it was an exercise in disaster. She would get eaten alive by the likes of Johanna- or even Adolfo.
Mages Must Fall Page 4
