Trial by Sorcery

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by Richard Fierce


  “Ah, so now he speaks. I doubt that you have the strength in that hand to hold a real man’s sword.”

  “My father’s blade is more of a real man’s sword than you’ve ever seen.” Anger was beginning to simmer within me.

  “Is that right?” The guard stepped closer, drawing only a few inches from me. I could smell the leather of his armor, along with the scent of his body odor. I scrunched my nose. He needed to take a bath.

  “Jon, you said you were only going to scare him a bit,” Simon said. I looked at him, but he didn’t meet my gaze.

  “I am,” Jon replied. “But he doesn’t seem scared yet.”

  Pain lanced through my stomach as Jon drove his fist into me. I would have crumbled to my knees if his cronies wouldn’t have been holding my arms. I sucked in air between coughs. The realization that Simon had tricked me only made me angrier, but I was outnumbered and overpowered.

  “You’re pathetic,” Jon spat. “You’ll always live in your father’s shadow. At least he’s not alive to see how wretched you are.”

  Jon punched me again. His guards released my arms and I fell to the ground. Dust rose and got into my mouth. It made my teeth gritty and I wanted to spit it out, but it was all I could do to breathe.

  “Come on, Jon. Just leave him here.” It was Simon again. Maybe he felt bad and that was why he was trying to intervene. It didn’t matter. He’d betrayed me. Dragoons were supposed to defend the kingdom and protect its people, yet Simon was no better than these petty guards.

  “That’s a good idea, Simon. I will leave him here. That way, no one will find his body.”

  I heard ringing steel and looked up to see Jon had drawn his sword. Terror forced my limbs to move, and I struggled to my feet. The guards behind me shoved me back to the ground and my knees struck the dirt painfully.

  “What are you doing?” Simon demanded. “You can’t murder someone!”

  “I can do as I see fit,” Jon rebuked.

  “I won’t let you.”

  “Watch yourself, Simon. You may be a noble, but my father outranks yours.”

  I prepared myself to get up and make a run for it as Jon lifted his sword. Simon cried out in protest and grabbed ahold of Jon’s arm as Jon started to swing, which threw his motion off. The blade swung narrowly past my face. I crawled backward and bumped into the legs of the guards behind me.

  Simon and Jon struggled against one another. I started to get to my feet, but one of the guards struck me in the head. Agony screamed throughout my body. I gasped and my vision threatened to go black. I fought against unconsciousness, but it was a losing battle.

  A bright flash of light and a sound like thunder echoed against the buildings around us. I was already dazed, and the light blinded me, stabbing into my eyes and bursting into the back of my skull like a thousand tiny hot shards of glass.

  I screamed, unable to bear the pain, but I couldn’t hear myself over the roaring thunder. It seemed like the world was ending, ending in burning light and rumbling noise. I could see faint outlines of the guards rushing past me. Just before the darkness of oblivion took me into its embrace, I thought I saw a face contorted with rage.

  Maren’s face.

  7

  When I awoke, I had no idea where I was.

  My mind seemed foggy as if it was stuffed with cotton. I was lying on my back, staring up at a white ceiling. I was parched, and my lips were chapped. Running my dry tongue over them was like using sandstone to moisturize.

  “Water,” I rasped as I tried to sit up.

  A wave of nausea washed over me and I had to lie back down. A dull pain throbbed in my stomach, and I vaguely remembered Jon hitting me. It felt like an eternity before the nausea passed and I was able to force myself into a sitting position.

  There were two people in the room with me. I immediately recognized Curate Anesko, but I didn’t know the other person. It was a woman, and instead of gray or brown robes, she wore white ones. She walked over to me carrying a wooden pitcher and cup. She poured some water into the cup and handed it to me. I started to take a sip but noticed tiny leaves floating in the water. I looked at the woman curiously.

  “It’ll help with the pain,” she said.

  I was too thirsty to care whether that was true or not. I drank deeply, downing the entire cup as if I hadn’t had water in weeks.

  “Where am I?” I choked out as I handed the empty cup to her. She sprinkled some more leaves into the cup and refilled it.

  “The infirmary,” she replied. “How are you feeling?”

  “Rough,” I said. “I’ve felt worse, though.” I held my hand up for emphasis.

  “How did I get here?” I asked.

  “I’ll let Curate Anesko answer that,” she said. She glanced back at him and he joined us.

  “What were you doing in the market?” Anesko asked. His tone wasn’t filled with tenderness like the healer.

  “I was browsing the vendors.”

  “How did you end up behind the money changers building?”

  I didn’t know what a money changer was, but I assumed he meant the building Simon had led me behind. I opened my mouth to answer and paused. Simon had betrayed me, true, but he also tried to defend me when he realized Jon was going to kill me. I considered whether I owed him any favors, and decided that his actions had canceled each other out. I didn’t owe him anything.

  “Simon tricked me into going behind the building with a promise of giving me something. The only thing back there was the city guards. They tried to kill me.”

  Anesko exchanged glances with the healer.

  “Drink this,” the woman said, then she and Anesko stepped away and held a whispered conversation.

  I couldn’t hear what they were saying. A low ringing sound had taken up residence in my ears. I sipped the water and looked around the infirmary. The walls were white like the ceiling, but the floor was the same gray stone as the rest of the Citadel. Rows of beds were lined in orderly rows, all of them empty except one. I hadn’t noticed before, but someone was lying in the bed with a bandage wrapped around their torso. A large vibrant red stained the sterile fabric.

  Blood. Lots of it.

  Anesko and the healer came back over and I turned my attention to them.

  “I’m going to escort you to your room,” Anesko said. “You can rest there for the remainder of the day. Tomorrow begins the first test, and unfortunately, if you don’t test tomorrow, you don’t test at all.”

  “He needs at least three more days to rest,” the healer interjected.

  “I don’t make the rules, Anessa. I enforce them.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I’m feeling a little rough, but I can take the test.”

  “Are you sure?” Anessa asked, her face etched with worry.

  “I have to. This is my only chance.” I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a bit of a smirk on Anesko’s lips. Was he proud of me, or was he trying not to laugh at my weakness? I supposed it didn’t matter either way.

  “If anything happens to him, I will not be pleased,” Anessa warned the Curate. Anesko rolled his eyes and offered me his hand. I accepted it and slid off the bed. Without another word, the Curate led me through the infirmary toward the door. As we passed by the bed with the bloodied person, I saw that it was Simon. My eyes widened in surprise.

  “What happened to Simon?” I asked.

  “He was stabbed,” Anesko replied.

  “Stabbed?” I remembered his scuffle with Jon. The guard must have gained the upper hand. I clenched my jaw in anger, which only added to my headache. “Will he be all right?”

  “Don’t worry about him. You have enough of your own problems.”

  I wasn’t sure what Anesko meant by that, and I didn’t bother asking. We walked through the hallways in silence. Anesko kept his pace slow enough that I was able to keep up. The pain in my stomach was still there, but it had diminished enough that it was more an annoyanc
e than anything else.

  Once we reached the staircase that led up to my floor, Anesko stopped. He turned to face me and I saw that the hardness in his eyes had lessened.

  “I don’t know why Simon and the city guard have it out for you, but I can only assume it has something to do with who your father is. Perhaps they think that beating on you will gain them some sort of reputation. People are stupid when they are young, and today’s events only solidify that for me.”

  Anesko sighed and rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He seemed stressed. There had to be more going on than just my situation. I was involved and I wasn’t as strained as he was.

  “Someone used magic in that fight,” he added. “It was a powerful spell, too. I don’t think the guards did it. They aren’t trained in the ways that students of the Citadel are. Using magic against another person is illegal. I have to ask. Did you use magic against those guards?”

  “No,” I answered. “I didn’t even know that what happened was the result of magic. I was barely conscious when I got blinded.”

  “Good. Do you know who cast the spell?”

  “No, Curate. I didn’t see anyone other than the guards. And Simon.” The memory of Maren’s angry face flashed in my mind’s eye. If that was real, I think I did know who cast the spell, but I would never tell anyone.

  Anesko frowned. “We will have to find the person who did. Someone with magic that powerful must be trained to properly use it, or they risk the lives of everyone around them.”

  I nodded, not sure what to say. I just wanted to go back to sleep. I was sure the Curate could see my exhaustion.

  “Listen to me, Eldiwn. Listen well. The tests are not easy. They will push you in ways you’ve never dreamed of. It is no small feat to pass the tests, but also know that passing the tests is only scratching the surface of what being a dragoon holds. Did your father ever talk about his time here?”

  I shook my head. “No, Curate.”

  “There is a good reason for that, trust me. Before the testing is done, you will wish that you were dead. I know I did.”

  “Thank you for letting me know,” I said.

  Anesko stared at me, his eyes probing my soul, looking for any hesitation or weakness. I was determined to pass the tests. Being a dragoon was all there was for me. If I didn’t pass and bond with a dragon, I had no idea what I would do, or where I would go. The lands my father’s Deed had earned were dead like my parents. No crops grew there and water was non-existent. This was all I had.

  The Curate placed a hand on my shoulder. “Get some rest,” he said. “You’re going to need it.”

  And then he left. I stood there for a moment, running his words through my mind, over and over. I made my way up the stairs slowly. Every muscle in my body was sore. By the time I reached the top, I was tempted to get on my knees and crawl the rest of the way. Yet somehow, I had enough strength to make it to my room and into bed. I fell asleep almost immediately.

  I awoke to the sound of the Citadel’s bell ringing and quickly sat up. What bell was it? What day was it? I rolled out of bed and was happy to find that other than a dull soreness in my stomach, I felt completely rested. At the foot of my bed was a folded set of gray robes. I figured I was supposed to wear them, so I put them on over my clothes and headed down to the dining hall. It was empty aside from a few servants doing some cleaning.

  “What bell is it?” I asked one of them.

  “Fifth,” the man answered.

  I thanked him and then sprinted for the temple, hoping I wasn’t too late.

  8

  I rushed into the temple.

  To my relief, everyone was seated and appeared to be waiting for Master Pevus. I slipped into the last pew, trying to be as quiet as possible. Nobody appeared to notice my tardiness, or if they did, they didn’t care.

  I spotted Maren sitting in one of the middle rows. I thought about how I had seen her face during my attack. There had been so much rage in her eyes. Thinking about it now gave me a chill. Was she the one who had cast the powerful spell Curate Anesko mentioned? I didn’t know.

  Wait.

  I considered the many odd statements she’d said. Things about people wanting to help her for personal gain. What if she was a sorcerer? That thought gave me pause. The only sorcerer I had ever met was an old hedge witch when I was eight. I’d been violently ill and my mother had tried every remedy she could think of, but nothing worked.

  In desperation, she’d taken me to see Yizell. The old witch had looked ancient and moved slow, but she was kind and offered a concoction that ended my sickness. Given that it was my only interaction with a magic user, it was hard to fathom the anger one of them could possess. And yet, if it was Maren who had cast the spell … she had done it to save me.

  Master Pevus strode into the room then, his robes fluttering around him. He stood on the raised dais and cleared his throat. I squinted at him. He looked like he had aged several years since I had seen him the other night.

  “Attention! Attention, students!”

  Once the multitude of voices quieted, Master Pevus continued.

  “Today we will begin Compassion, the first of three tests. Only one student will be tested at a time. As such, we will break for meals. Given that this is such a large group, I’m hoping that we will be finished before the curfew bell, but I am not completely in control of the test.

  “The magic of the temple is the true master here, and it will dictate the amount of time you will spend in the test. I believe the longest any potential student has spent been in the test was three hours, but that is certainly not the norm.”

  Master Pevus motioned at a door to his right.

  “This door will lead you into the chamber where you will be tested. The Curates and I will view the testing, but we will not interfere unless it is deemed an emergency.”

  Someone in the front raised their hand.

  “Yes?”

  “Is the test dangerous?” the person asked.

  “Physically, no. At least, not that I’ve ever witnessed. Mentally, however, is another matter.” Master Pevus paused as if he was uncertain about how to elaborate. “These tests are designed to investigate the deepest parts of you, the ones that you may not even be aware of. Sometimes the tested can be temporarily … damaged, for lack of a better term. But there are no lasting effects.”

  “What happens if you fail the first test?” someone else asked.

  Master Pevus steepled his fingers and stared down at them for a moment, then looked back up.

  “If you fail the first test, your memories of this place and what you did here will be magically erased. This is for your safety, as well as ours. If you pass the Compassion test, then you will move on to Magical Aptitude.”

  One of the Curates, I didn’t know her name, walked up to Master Pevus and whispered something to him. He nodded and smiled broadly.

  “We are ready to begin the testing. We will start at the first pew and work our way back. Out of respect for your fellows, I ask that you keep the noise to a minimum.”

  Master Pevus pointed to the person sitting at the edge of the first pew.

  “Will you please join me up here?”

  I recognized the person from my first day. He’d been in the group that I had walked in with when we were assigned rooms with the Provost. I didn’t know his name, but he was a low born with brown hair. Master Pevus led him to the door, where one of the Curates opened it. The master ushered him inside, then the Curate closed the door.

  Both the master and the Curate left the room through another door and the rest of us sat in silence. I was hoping there would be some sort of sound or something that let us know the test had started, but I was disappointed when nothing happened. Eventually, people started having whispered conversations.

  After a quarter of an hour, Master Pevus came back into the room and called up the next person. And so it went, over and over, until the seventh bell. We were
released for lunch, and then we went back to the temple. The process continued. I wondered where the tested exited the chamber, for they didn’t come out of the door they entered in. I’d find out myself soon enough.

  When we came back from lunch, everyone had moved to the front rows and changed spots. I stayed near the back. I wasn’t scared to take the test, but I wasn’t jumping in excitement, either. This was the first step towards proving I was worthy of being a dragoon, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

  Maren sat next to me. I looked at her and she smiled. She didn’t seem any different. Perhaps I had imagined her face?

  “Are you nervous?” she asked.

  “A little, I guess. What about you?”

  “Nope. Why are you nervous?”

  I shrugged. “I guess because if I fail, I have nowhere to go.”

  “What about your family’s land? And your mother?”

  “My mother died,” I said softly. “A few weeks before I left to come here. She had the wasting sickness.”

  Maren frowned and laid her left hand atop my right. My mangled one.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  I could feel my eyes well with tears, but I refused to cry. I blinked rapidly.

  “What about the land? You get to keep it by birthright.”

  “I know, but the land is dead. Crops won’t grow, and all of the people who worked for my family left after my father died in battle. I am a noble in name only. There is no money, no food, nothing. The Citadel is all I have.”

  Maren squeezed my hand and in some unexplainable way, I felt comforted. We didn’t talk much after that. And even though we were just waiting, the time went by quickly. When our pew was the last, I began to get anxious. My palms got sweaty and my heart started beating faster. Maren didn’t let go of my hand until it was her turn to enter the chamber.

  “See you on the other side,” she said, grinning.

  I watched her until she disappeared into the chamber, then I leaned forward and looked down at the floor. I was next after her, and there were two people after me. I considered asking them to switch places with me, but there was no reason to delay the inevitable. I had spent so much time looking forward to this moment, and now that it was here, I could hardly believe it. I was following in my father’s footsteps.

 

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