The Black Mage: Apprentice

by Rachel E. Carter

  It was me that needed to focus.

  Massaging my arm I forced myself to straighten back up and take in the rest of the class around me. I was relieved to see I wasn't the only one who had cast metal… but then it came to my attention that the only mentees foolish enough were second-years. The rest of my year had used fire.

  I nodded to Ian for him to start again and then cast out a barrier of flames. At that exact moment Byron called out "Wind!"

  I barely had time to fall back before a huge gust of fire came sweeping toward me. Ian ceased his attack immediately but it was too late for my pride. I could hear Priscilla's tittering laughter a couple spots down.

  I turned my head to glare at the girl and immediately regretted it when I noticed the non-heir watching me.

  My pulse stopped.

  I couldn't breath.

  I couldn't think.

  I couldn't move.

  "Keep drilling, apprentices, I didn't tell you to gawk!"

  What was wrong with me? I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and made myself block out everything but the green-eyed fifth-year directly across from me. My mentor's blank expression gave no hint to his feelings. If he was secretly pleased I was making a fool of myself in today's lessons, he gave no sign of it.

  "Fire!"

  At least this time I was ready. Before the flames had even traveled half the distance between us I had a spiraling tunnel of sand chasing across the field to squelch them. There was the sizzling hiss as sand collided with fire and then a loud clap as the flames died.

  The remains of sand sprayed across Ian and the mentors closest.

  Several of them – including Bryce - shouted insults. They stopped their own castings to brush sand off their clothes and skin, glowering. Master Byron issued the command to stop and then came barreling down the field to rest directly in front of me.

  "Have you lost all common sense, apprentice? I told you to defend yourself – not show off in front of the entire faction! You are supposed to conserve your castings! Conserve!" He took a deep, exaggerated huff. "Your little display just cost you an unnecessary amount of magic. Flashy casting doesn't win a war – the mages fool enough to use it will be long dead while the rest of the enemy mages are left standing!"

  Why me? If I had been anyone else Byron would have seen fit to offer a short rebuke and move on. But never with me.

  "Yes, sir."

  "If you can't control your castings then you don't belong in Combat."

  I stayed silent.

  With a satisfied grunt the master retired to his post near the second-years and called out his next command. Byron remained there for the rest of the exercise. Not once did his hawk eyes leave my face.

  ****

  By the time our drills had ended I was ready to collapse. As soon as we were dismissed Ian brushed past me in a hurry to spend as little time together as possible. Ella joined me in my slow march to the commons. My friend knew better than to say anything. Instead, she linked elbows and sighed loudly.

  Students hurried past us, eager to beat the others to the evening meal. Ella and I took our time. This year was different and neither of us had been prepared for how much.

  When Byron had first announced our new city was Devon I had thought it a joke. A very cruel, very pointed joke.

  And then, after we returned from picking up the second-years, I'd found out he was serious.

  We really were in Devon.

  The capital was different. Ishir Outpost and Port Langli were important, but neither of them could compare to a regiment ten times their size. The Crown's Army trained, if it was at all possible, harder than anyone else.

  The army was so large the capital had built four training arenas – a small one inside the palace walls for the King's Regiment, and three much bigger grounds outside the township where the army's soldiers, knights, and mages spent their days endlessly drilling until they were called upon for service. It was a good ten-mile ride east of the palace. The site housed an enormous armory, an equally large stable, two bathhouses, two outhouses, a giant cook's camp, and an impressive expanse of tented housing just south of its arenas.

  It was the city regiment we had the highest chance of being placed in after our ascension. That was the first thing Byron had told us when we arrived the night before. It was for that reason alone I had dried my eyes, taken a deep breath, and told myself to forget the past three weeks.

  I needed to toughen up quick, or risk becoming the laughingstock of not just my faction but the Crown's Army.

  That, and I was done with my body's traitorous reaction any time the prince looked at me. I couldn't survive two more years of this apprenticeship if I let myself feel. I was done with misery. I would not let my learning be squandered by a broken heart.

  "Ry! Ella! What took you two so long?"

  I made a face at my twin. "It's been a long day." Alex was already seated on one of the outdoor tables with a mountain of noodles piled high on his plate. Beside him sat a couple of his factionmates and Loren and Ray – none of which had half the servings my brother did.

  Ella's mouth hung open in shock. "You know the cook has to feed the whole camp, right?"

  Alex grinned. "Only the ones that arrive on time. After that it's fair game."

  I snatched a roll off his plate before he could stop me. "After that we'll just take it from you."

  My twin rolled his eyes and then changed the subject. "How was casting? Loren was just telling me Byron yelled at you in front of the entire faction."

  "How is that different from any other day?"

  Alex didn't let it go. "What did you do?" He lowered his voice. "Please tell me you finally gave the prince the thrashing he deserves-" My brother didn't get to finish. Ella had elbowed him, hard, in the chest.

  I stared at the sky in frustration. I wanted to move on. I did. But no matter how hard I tried there was always something or someone there to remind me. Alex knew this, of course. Since the ascension ceremony he had tried to keep his outrage to a minimum, but it still slipped out whenever he wasn't careful.

  Alex swallowed guiltily. "Sorry, Ry."

  I stood up, ready to fill up a plate of my own and leave the uncomfortable exchange behind. "Don't be. If I couldn't be imprisoned for attacking a king's son I probably would have done just that." I left the table without waiting for a response.

  ****

  A flurry of days, and then weeks, swept past before I even had a chance to catch my breath. I quickly got used to the stifling conditions of Devon's giant training camp and the constant presence of the king's court in our early morning practices. I even got used to interpreting the stony silence of my mentor.

  I avoided the prince at all costs.

  Before noon every day Byron had us wielding axes. They were the weapon of choice for the Crown's Army, which meant they were what we spent the majority of time training with.

  Out of all the battleaxes, we drilled with the poleaxe and halberd most. The training master was quick to point out how easily they could break enemy lines. We spent most of our days nursing wounds from slashed mail or dented armor.

  When we weren't drilling on the ground we did it as cavalry. Against one partner or a cluster of them. The axes made a formidable opponent against crowds. In other words, Bryon was quick to note, their haft was ideal for mass attacks on horseback.

  We learned when it was better to bludgeon and slash, when to thrust with the spike's head, and how to disarm an enemy in a slight of hand.

  It was an endless cycle of drilling, but by the end of the second week I had no reservations going up against Ian. He was a formidable opponent – being the son of a blacksmith brought many advantages - and any time I had caught myself holding back I quickly received a painful reminder why that was a mistake.

  Ian still wasn't talking to me. But he treated me like an equal. If he had really wanted to hurt me he could have held back in his attacks. There was nothing worse for a warrior's training than an easy teacher, and fo
r that I was grateful.

  Our mid-day lessons were spent in one of the camp's largest tents. Crown's Army meetings were held inside the palace walls but for our training purposes the tents would do. Local command – including Eve's father, Commander Audric - and even the Colored Robes made an appearance from time to time to assist with lecture. Most of the military's special strategies were released on a need-to-know basis (especially given the recent rebel activity) but the officials did give us plenty of other things to consider.

  The majority of the time the men and women of the Crown's Army stayed on base training, enforcing Crown Law, and assisting Devon's local farmers. Only a small grouping (in comparison to their actual number; I hardly considered one thousand men – the size of Port Langli's local regiment - "small") regularly patrolled the countryside. The army was too expensive to house in the capital so the camp was at the city's outskirts.

  The soldiers who resided in camp took care of its upkeep and any services that needed rendering. Units took turns cooking and cleaning, hunting and building to keep the costs to a minimum. Still, the commander made it clear the army's salaries alone ate away at the Crown's coffers. Housing a large army was an incredibly expensive feat, and it was easy to see why the king considered Caltoth's frugality suspicious.

  While we didn't get to learn as many specifics as I had hoped, the leaders did spend a lot of time addressing each mage's role in the event of a siege. Devon was the most important city of Jerar, and as such there were certain tasks that needed to be seen to first.

  I was so distracted with all of our learning that I almost forgot about what was coming.

  Ella was quick to remind me. "The mock battle, Ry, it's tomorrow." Three months had passed in the blink of an eye. I was so stupefied I almost fell out of my chair.

  To calm my frazzled nerves my friend suggested we spend an evening outside of the barracks… Which was exactly how Ella, Alex, and I found ourselves in one of Devon's local taverns the night before the big match.

  Interestingly enough we weren't alone. Half the factions' apprentices and some of the Crown's Army were already crowding the tables by the time we arrived. "The Lusty Wench" was, apparently, a local favorite.

  Waiting for the others to get back with the drinks I pulled out Derrick's most recent letter and read:

  Dearest sister (and Alex who never writes back – for shame!),

  I'm a soldier! I know, I know, you never had any doubt but it is still such a relief to be out of Demsh'aa for good! I love our parents dearly but I believe the three of us have all seen enough herbs to last a lifetime, eh?

  They already have us stationed along the northern border… I've only been here two months but it is has quickly become evident the instructors weren't exaggerating. There's already been two raids since we arrived! Both times I was asleep, and by the time my section of the barracks was awoken the enemy was gone.

  I know it is not good thinking but I really hope I get to serve during the next one. Some of the other boys are already bragging that they've made their first kill. I don't want to kill anyone – I know I will have to, it's only a matter of time - but I would like to serve Jerar and keep those nasty Caltothians out.

  I hope your apprenticeship is going well. You and Alex are fourth-years now – just one more year after this and you'll be mages! MAGES! Just in time for the Candidacy, too!

  Write back and say hello to your pretty friend Ella – tell her if Alex messes this one up I'd be happy to prove not all men in our family are halfwits!

  - Derrick

  I set my brother's letter down with a chuckle. It might be my most challenging year yet, but at least Derrick was having a good time. Someone should be.

  Alex snorted loudly, having finishing the letter over my shoulder just moments after. "That little pest is full of himself now that he's got himself a soldier's blade."

  Ella smiled widely. "I don't know, Alex, Derrick is pretty handsome."

  My twin choked. "He's three years younger!"

  I let them continue their banter. I couldn't wait to be stationed up north with Derrick next summer. Everyone knew Ferren's Keep was one of the four cities the apprentices trained in and it was only a half a day's ride to the border from there. I had missed many things since Alex and I had first set out for the Academy three years ago, and my family – especially Derrick - I missed the most. Already my younger brother had matured from a feisty twelve-year-old into a young man. Cavalry didn't have a four-year apprenticeship period like the other war schools but I still couldn't believe Derrick was a soldier. I had missed that period of growth from child to adult and it was alarming how quickly it had happened.

  Next year couldn't come soon enough.

  "Do you think we will lose again this time?"

  I glanced up over my plate of roast boar to frown at Ella. She was talking about the mock battle. "You think we will?"

  "We are mentees. The odds aren't exactly in our favor."

  Alex put his arm around the girl's waist. "We won our first year – and we were the underdogs then too."

  "Yes, but we won because Ry was able to bat her eyelashes at Ian instead of fighting him. Somehow I don't think that tactic would work quite as well this year."

  "Hey!" I huffed indignantly. "I can fight him."

  "Sorry, hun, but he is your mentor. I've seen the two of you in practice." My friend looked sympathetic.

  I cringed. She was right, of course. Ian did beat me most of the time. The last two months Byron had let the fourth - and fifth-years cast on their own. Without the master's split-second commands to prepare me for my defense I had struggled to keep up with the random assault of attacks. Still, I liked to think I had done better than most of the other fourth-years.

  That, and I was still better than Ian at pain casting. Darren and I were better than all of the fifth-years who could pain cast… but that didn't really matter when the third-years were still much better than our second-year mentees.

  Overall the mentors still outperformed us in casting and physical prowess.

  "If you think about it, since we started the apprenticeship the mentees have won every year." Ray joined us at our table, eager to be included in the night's debate.

  "That's true." Ella stirred her cider with her finger. "And it's uncommon enough as is. Perhaps the streak will continue."

  The tavern was noisy – but not so much so that I couldn't hear the door swing open for its newest customers. Especially when the whole room went silent. I turned just in time to see Priscilla, Darren, and Blayne appear in its entry all laughing loudly at something their unknown companion had said.

  My blood turned to ice. I was all too conscious of his presence. I fought myself to keep from staring.

  To redirect my thoughts I studied the stranger instead.

  The girl was of islander descent like Lynn, with the same straight black hair and almond eyes. Unlike the apprentice, however, she dressed much more elaborately. The material that made up the stranger's gown and cloak was something I had only seen once before, in one of the merchant stalls in Langli. Borean silk.

  What really caught my interest was how the girl held herself. When she spoke to the crown prince and his brother there was no hint of awe, no fear, none of the usual trademarks of someone addressing their better. Either the stranger knew Blayne and Darren very well, or she was royalty.

  "Is that…?"

  "Princess Shinako!" Lynn squealed. I watched as the fifth-year ran up to greet the girl in fine dress.

  Shinako instantly broke off her conversation to embrace her old friend. The two started to exchange excited greetings, but Blayne interrupted with a curt, "Shina!" The princess rolled her eyes and then Blayne grabbed her arm, whispering something that made her redden instantly.

  The princess murmured an apology to her friend and then shoved her way past Blayne to strike up a conversation with his brother instead.

  "What do you think he said to her?" Ray wondered.

  "It's Blayne,
" Ella's gaze followed the princess, sympathetically, "so probably something horrible."

  Alex darkened. "If I ever catch him or his brother in an alley alone…"

  "You won't do anything." Ella gave my brother a sharp look, but her voice softened as she added, "Because if you do, you'll be thrown in prison and what life would that leave us?"

  Alex gripped my friend's fingers tightly.

  Neither of them said anything more. They didn't need to.

  I turned to Ray, feeling uncomfortable with the exchange. I was happy for Alex and Ella, I was, but every time I saw how easy it was for them a dark, gnawing jealousy began to eat away at my stomach.

  "Romance only slows you down."

  I tried a smile and found it came a bit easier than it would have three months back. "Thanks."

  "What are you thinking for tomorrow's strategy?"

  The tavern door swung open again and I found my eyes unwillingly tearing toward it. A second later I regretted the action when I realized who it was.

  It took Ian even less time to spot me. The moment he did irritation crossed his features.

  A second later the fifth-year turned heel and strode back through the exit.

  Ian would be not partaking in the festivities tonight, not as long as I was part of them. The door slammed shut and I heard Ray's low whistle.

  "Guess it slows others down too."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  "Why should he lead?"

  The entire grouping of second - and fourth-year mentees swerved their heads to look at me. Even Ella and Alex looked surprised.

  I held my ground and repeated myself. "We didn't even vote. Darren shouldn't get the role of command just because he is a prince. There are other fourth-years who would like the opportunity to try."

  "Like you?"

  I swallowed as Darren's garnet fell to me. For a moment he almost looked hurt, but any residual surprise quickly morphed into indignation.