When he’d arrived at the door to the quarters Alensia and Maleth had been allocated, explaining he wanted to repay the debt he owed her, she’d taken one look at him, smiled, and dragged him inside, saying something about he was far too skinny and needed to put some meat on his bones. He hadn’t had the chance to argue before he was sitting at their small table, a bowl of thick and steaming stew placed in front of him.
Around him, the contents of three rooms seemed to have been squished into one. Along one wall was a pair of beds, one larger than the other. Both were well-made with sturdy wooden frames, but spiderwebs of scratches adorned both of them. On the other side of the room was a small oven - it must have been enchanted somehow as, in spite of just having finished cooking, no smoke filled the air; only the scents of freshly-roasted beef and vegetables tantalized his nose and made his mouth water. In the middle was the table at which he sat, atop which three bowls sat almost atop one another so all of them could fit.
He was glad for both of them. The room was cramped for two people and the furniture had undergone more than its share of abuse over the years, but considering how worn their clothing was, even this was a major improvement. Right now, it was admittedly a bit plain, save for the blur heading straight for him, but… Wait -
He tried to dodge but was too slow to stop Maleth from bowling him and his chair over, sending both crashing to the ground with the child atop him.
His head swam at the impact and the fallen chair’s arm dug into his side but he fought through the nausea. Counting to three, he glared up at the gap-toothed grin and hissed out. “Would you please get off me?”
“Damn it Maleth,” Alensia cried, “I told you not to run around so much. Get off the poor lad!”
At his mother’s shout, the boy’s bravado was chastened and he scrambled off of his victim with a shouted apology.
Tutting to herself, she helped Rian up. “I’m so sorry about him. He’s a good boy, but he’s been quite the handful of late.”
“It is… not a problem,” he said weakly, massaging his side and seating himself again. He’d been more startled than hurt in any case. “Children are -“
His thoughts were interrupted when Maleth let out a loud belch, having devoured his stew with stunning speed. Alensia scolded the boy for his rude behavior, while Rian couldn’t help but marvel. While growing up, his father made it clear that they were expected to show only the most excellent of manners, so he’d endured quite a multitude of lectures when he was younger. It was nice to be on the outside looking in for a change.
In the end, Maleth admitted defeat so he could get back to filling his stomach. At this, Alensia sighed, shook her head and turned to Rian. “Oh, I forgot to ask, how did your First Trial go?”
Rian tried to swallow quickly - a big mistake. As he had been in the middle of finishing a large spoonful of stew when she spoke, he promptly started choking and spluttering as everything tried to go down the wrong pipe. Perhaps his father’s instructed manners hadn’t quite had their desired effect. Once he managed to get all of it down properly, he cleared his throat and said, “I passed, and actually....”
He told her about the First Trial and how he passed it with seconds to spare in spite of Dalmarn proving as nasty as rumored. He told her the complete and utter truth. “- and of course, I refused to panic and Dalmarn said I was the best apprentice he had ever seen.”
Well, perhaps he embellished it a little.
“Very well done, young lord!” Alensia grinned before waving a finger in mock scolding. “Don’t get too cocky though. From what I’ve heard, the first trial is to weed out the fools who don’t belong, who can’t even activate a Spellstone. The Second and Third Trials are what take out the people who are close but don’t quite qualify.”
That deflated his pride a bit. The fact that he’d needed to work so hard on a simple check of competency made his gut squirm. He resolved to try harder next time and not fall for Dalmarn’s traps. “Have you heard what they consist of?”
“Some told me that we’re going to be fighting monsters, constructs or even dragons. Not sure I believe that though. Those who said they took the trials before told me they shift some from year to year and proctor to proctor.”
“We will not know for sure until the time comes,” he said, before lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “It cannot be dragons though, can it?”
She shrugged her shoulders but her eyes gleamed. “Maybe not alone. What if the entire set of applicants had to face one? The proctors are tricky. Might be they’ve got something really tough ahead for us to face. Let us prove ourselves.”
To stand and face something where he would have to use everything he’d learned in order to defeat it... the thought was intoxicating. He let his breath out in a slow hiss. “With all the enchantments they’re capable of, there must be a multitude of ways they could test us.”
“Yes, and now the real tests begin for you, but don’t forget what you already accomplished. You passed the First Trial, an achievement you should be proud of. You worked hard for it, after all.”
An achievement only difficult because I forgot to ask a basic question. Still, pride swelled up in his chest at her words. “Have you had the chance to do it yourself yet?”
“Afraid not. I’ll be taking the First Trial later tonight. Still, I’m glad I know what I’ll be facing, more or less. I’m pretty sure… well, I think I can handle it, probably… maybe,” she finished in a mumble, looking down at her hands.
His sister Nyna might claim he was awkward with others, but even he could see something was bothering Alensia. “What is wrong?” He softly asked.
“It’s…” She sighed, her head drooping further. “I’ve been training for this for a year, but there are people like you who have been preparing for far longer. It makes me wonder ‘Am I ready?’ ‘Can I do this?’”
Honestly, he wasn’t too sure either. He gave her a smile though and said, “According to one of my tutors, training is good and important, but what truly matters is your ability. If you are strong and smart, then you will be able to pass these tests,” he bit his lip, “err, well, I imagine so, anyway - the man was a bit of an idiot. Really though, you have probably learned most of the basics already, and all that remains is refining them further.”
Alensia nodded slowly, her expression clearing. “Thank you, I appreciate it, young lord. Regardless of my experience though, I have to do this.”
“Indeed. If we give up, how can we achieve our dreams?”
At first, the only sound was that of Maleth slurping down his stew, then she started chuckling. “I suppose you’re right. I can’t give up, not now.”
There was a grunt from Maleth, who looked dizzy from following the conversation. “So does that mean you’ll make it, mother?”
She grinned and wrapped him in a hug, hoisting him into the air and spinning him around. “Of course I will, my little one. Your mother is going to become a mage, no matter what!” As her son let out a cheer, she turned to Rian. “So, tutors?”
“Yes. In the interest of making sure I brought no shame to House Miel, my family spared no expense when it came to training me. Over all the years I spent preparing, I must have had a dozen tutors.”
Letting her son back down to stumble into his seat, she stroked her chin, eying him with a calculating expression he hadn’t seen on her before. “You must be very learned,” she murmured, half to herself.
“I believe so. All my tutors thought well of my preparation.” Which they still would have said if I had the mental capacity of a stone, admittedly - flattery had been all too common. “I learned everything I could that might pertain to passing the trials ahead of us.”
“Interesting, very interesting.” She clapped her hands together, coming to a decision. “I have an idea - you wanted to come up with a way to repay me, right? Well, how about you tutor me?”
“Well…” His first instinct was to decline - he had to focus upon his own trials, of course - but th
en he started to consider the idea. While he certainly should be preparing as best as he could, it would be foolish to do too much casting due to the drain upon him.
Any preparation alone would really just be study and review, and for that instructing her would serve just as well as doing it alone. Plus, it would give him a chance to repay his debt and might even be enjoyable besides.
“Yes,” he finally said, “I would be honored to be your instructor.”
***
The corridors widened as the stairs climbed to the north tower, the stained-glass windows were now interspersed with portraits of various people. Some Rian knew as famous magi of the past, others were only recognizable for the gold placard underneath listing their name and thanking them for their contributions to the academy.
On the floor that Soren had told him was theirs, there was a small sitting area, where a circle of chairs was overlooked by a tree the likes of which he had never seen before; its leaves were a pale gold, and a blood-red fruit dangled from its long, spindly branches, flush and ripe. He had vague recollections of his sister telling him of such trees in Eastern Rasgor and the kingdom of Intelli. A pair of nobles sat underneath it, sipping at cool water as they talked to a mage about some business involving enchanted tools and the like.
A guard turned his head, looking him over before nodding and returning his attention to the stairs from which Rian came. He bore a livery jacket showing pale blue over the left breast and yellow over the right, the colors of the academy.
The man wasn’t his servitor so he nodded in return. Soren hadn’t told him which of the doors was theirs, but given that only one of them had the blue background and green hound’s head of the Miel family crest… it was an easy guess.
The door unlocked with a quick turn of the key. Inside was a sitting room, more spacious than the one outside, albeit without the tree. It was cool and softly lit though with a silk divan that looked oh-so-inviting after the long day and cushioned chairs set on each side of what looked like a single shard of jade that had been cut into a table.
Soren reclined in one of the chairs, absentmindedly nibbling from a bowl of grapes. A half-empty fluted glass sat beside him with a ring of condensation around it, marring the jade. He inclined his head at Rian. “Excellent, I’ve been expecting you. Your parents sent me a few more prospects since we left and we need to go over them as soon as possible.”
He nodded slowly. Prospects… or rather, candidates for marriage. To marry well for his family was his duty. Not today though. “Actually sir,” he fidgeted, unable to hold back his smile, “I have some news I wished to share with you.”
“Oh?”
“I will assist you with the prospects soon, but I hoped to celebrate now, for today...” he took a deep breath, before all the words escaped in a rush, “I passed the First Trial! It was hard, of course, and the proctor is a complete bastard, but -”
“That is all well and good, but the details are not necessary,” Soren said with a polite smile.
“I apologize, but with all the work I have done, it feels… incredible to have my efforts rewarded.”
Soren peered at him for a long moment before sighing. “Rian, I understand that you are happy at your successes today but you must keep your sense of perspective. You are the second-in-line to House Miel. That is what matters. This,” he waved his hand as if to encompass the tower, the academy and everything that laid within, “is merely a hobby. What you do here doesn’t matter, save for what small honor and prestige successfully passing the trials will earn the family.”
“Soren, I will fulfill my responsibilities to my family, but this is important too!”
The man couldn’t hold back a snort. “My lord, take a moment and look at our quarters. The magi gave us silk sheets and jade tables, and the choicest wines and meats in the city. Our rooms occupy almost half this floor. Now, why do you think that is?”
Rian grimaced. He wasn’t blind. He already knew the answer.
“That’s right, because you are one of the Miel, one of the Seventy-Seven Great Families of Rasgor. The Royal Academy of Mages itself only cares about your little hobby as a means to gain favor with us.” He paused, rubbing his gleaming, bald forehead. “I don’t mean to be cruel, Rian, but you must understand the truth. Magic is merely a tool, one of many we utilize for the prosperity of House Miel, and any warrior armed with the enchantments of a Sacrelith is the equal of a mage who spent years of study. Long ago, they had importance and value, but now…? Why would any noble spend years learning to cast enchantments when they could simply pick up that Sacrelith we bought today?”
“There are secrets in magic though, secrets beyond imagining! I want to know more and I never will unless I join the magi!”
“Curse the stupidity of hopeless dreamers,” Soren growled. “Let’s not waste any more time arguing. See here,” he brandished a sheaf of parchment like a weapon. “In these documents are the profiles of a number of women of marriageable age that would bring us greater strength and power. As the spare to the House Miel, your duty is to wed one of them. Now, either help me in the selection or I swear the first three women you meet will be old hags with teats down to their knees!”
Rian ground his teeth. Why couldn’t Soren understand? Power, prestige, wealth, they were all important things, yes, but this was something he had worked toward ever since he was a child. More than half his life had been spent building toward this moment when he would be tested, and the knowledge he so desperately craved was almost within his grasp! But that day was not today, and his responsibilities remained. They always did.
He closed his eyes and sat down. “Very well, hand me the first one.”
In spite of his words, ten minutes passed without him making it more than halfway through the first page of the first document. His eyes trailed over the paragraphs without comprehension, and even the very comfortableness of the chair was a source of annoyance as it further proved Soren’s point. On a day such as this, to be stuck reading marriage dossiers? He had to prepare for what was to come: his next trial, the teaching of Alensia, and what he would do once he passed all three trials. To have to focus upon this instead was maddening.
“Rian,” Soren must have noticed his distraction, as he peered at him more closely. Finally, he let out a tired sigh. “I can see you have no attentiveness for this matter, so I suppose we can work on this tomorrow. Rest tonight, but we’ll be going over every single one of these first thing in the morning.”
A flash of gratitude surged through him. “Thank you, sir. I promise my mind will be fresh and prepared.”
Despite the argument they’d had, Soren allowed him the better of the two rooms. Finely-garbed portraits of nobles lined the walls, including, to his surprise, one of the former Countess Arnla, the very woman in whose footsteps he was walking. Dressed in robes of purest white, the soft-featured woman stood opposite the bed, dark hair trailing in ringlets down to her neck, while a sly smile implied the cunning of the woman whose power and cleverness had forged the Miel from a house of minor nobles to one of the greatest families of Rasgor.
Rian stood a little straighter at the sight of it. Regardless of how the times had changed, he was going to become one of the magi, just like she had been, and once he wore those same robes, he could do as she had done, and bring pride to his family.
Apart from the portraits, a mirror stood against one wall, across from a bed with silk sheets that was large enough for four to sleep side by side - Soren had rolled his eyes at the last one, commenting about how it was probably for married nobles spending a week or two away from their spouses.
Still, as soft and welcoming as the bed was, sleep was a long time coming. In the darkness, he stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling.
After the momentous success of that afternoon, Soren had dragged him back down from those joyous peaks. The truth was, the man didn’t care about his passing the Mage Trials… and Rian couldn’t really blame him, not when he thought about how Soren must see
his goal to become a mage. There was nothing Rian desired more than learning the deeper depths of magic, mastering it in its entirety... but there were greater concerns. The man was House Miel’s chancellor for a reason, and his focus was on the strength of the Miel family as a whole.
In that light… well, his hopes of matching Arnla’s achievements were lovely to imagine, but that dream was far off. Right now, becoming a mage offered little benefit to the family and came with the possibility of failure, while a smart marriage contract could make House Miel one of the strongest noble families in Rasgor.
The cool night air caressed his brow and he closed his eyes. When he had been young, his family had indulged his wish to study spellcraft, hiring some of the best tutors and providing a multitude of tomes and literature on the subject for his perusal, no different than when his sister had wanted to learn painting, horseback riding and the art of the blade. His parents had given their children the chance to enjoy themselves because they loved them.
They had been too supportive of him then, he couldn’t betray that now. Becoming a mage was important, but nothing was more important than his family.
It was difficult to balance both against each other and he knew his responsibilities would be even greater soon. Now he was young, still having yet to reach his majority. Two or three years from now he would have a castle of his own, with trade routes to negotiate, peasants to rule and protect, armies to lead, a wife and possibly one or more children. If he was to become a mage, the time was now.
His path was clear. He would overcome the Second and Third Trials, become one of the magi, then learn everything he possibly could of their secrets. Afterward, he would fulfill every single duty his family gave him, and do it with pride.
With that thought in mind, he succumbed to sleep’s tender embrace.
Chapter Five
Dawn’s light broke, showering the room in its glow and awakening him from his slumber. In spite of the late night, he’d gotten plenty of rest.
The Mage Trials Page 6
