The Mage Trials

by Charles Cackler

  He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He wanted to help House Miel grow stronger, but did his marriage suit have to involve a game of petty tit-for-tat?

  “Now then,” Soren said, getting to his feet, “I have something to show you. Follow me.”

  ***

  It wasn’t too surprising to be taken back to Ambrose’s workshop - he was constructing a second Sacrelith for them, after all - but the chamber had undergone a few changes since their last visit. Now in front of the chairs they had used during Ambrose’s demonstration stood a strangely-familiar, gem-encrusted mirror, as high as a man was tall.

  Speaking of Ambrose, he and Sideb stood in front of the mirror, silver sparks arcing from them to splash against its surface. Each moved in careful rhythm, Ambrose unleashing great gouts of silver from his open palms while Sideb etched thin lines, as if tracing the edges of some design and - was it his imagination, or did the mirror seem to be rippling? With each arc of color, the air around them buzzed as the magic grew in power and focus.

  A spell, and not just any spell. He had never seen anything like it before. Given the object used in the casting, it was clearly an enchantment of some sort, designed to aid or alter the mirror’s properties. A scrying upon an enemy? Perhaps.

  Regardless, this was nothing an apprentice could cast or he’d have heard of the method, even if merely in passing. Damn, if only he’d already passed his trials!

  “What do you think he’s doing?” He whispered, hoping Soren might have the answer.

  “Calm yourself. You wouldn’t want to distract him, now would you?” In spite of his words, Soren’s eyes danced with amusement at his frustration.

  Rian ground his teeth but stayed silent as he was bade. Soren was teasing him. It was clear he knew perfectly well what it was.

  Ambrose and his apprentice began to mix in different colors, first red, then orange, yellow and so on until the full spectrum of a rainbow had splashed against the rippling glass.

  Shapes began to appear within, first grey and indistinct, but growing more defined with each color added until finally the two spellcasters stopped and the spell settled. The rippling came to an end, revealing the oaken table and great statues of the council room of Houndstooth reflected in the glass.

  In the corner, A servant in a long cotton dress was diligently cleaning a statue of one of Rian’s great uncles without realizing she was being watched by them.

  “It was a scrying spell,” he said softly. “Incredible.”

  Soren chuckled. “Not just that.”

  Before Rian could ask what he meant, Soren called out to the servant to fetch the lady of the Miel family. The young woman was startled, face pale as she beheld them, but quickly recognized who she was speaking to, bowed and ran off to do as requested.

  Once she was no longer in sight, Soren turned back to him. “I’m not particularly knowledgeable as to the details, but the mirror before us and the one in the council room at home are part of a set. A skilled mage is able to link them together so that we may converse, no matter how great the distance. Your sister has one too and, when you come of age, you will receive one as well.” He smiled proudly. “Even if you might be in a castle far away, your family will always be close by.”

  A warmth grew in Rian’s chest even as Soren bid Ambrose and Sideb farewell so that they might converse in private. Even with all the wealth of his family plus that of his spouse, it was unlikely he would be able to see his loved ones too often - even Isabel’s holdings were almost a hundred miles away - so this was something to be treasured indeed. Once he passed the trials, the very first thing he would do was find Ambrose and get the mage to teach him this spell, even if he had to beg him for it on his hands and knees.

  He didn’t have to wait long before his parents appeared in the mirror, sitting side-by-side at the polished table. At the sight of their son, Eldrie squeezed Jela’s hand.

  Her expression didn’t change but she favored Rian with a nod before turning toward Soren. Her long grey dress did not have so much as the slightest wrinkle to it and she sat with perfect straight-backed poise as she frowned down at her chancellor. “Chancellor Spinner. To what do we owe this unexpected contact?

  In spite of Jela’s narrowed eyes, Soren was unruffled. Bowing briefly, he said, “While I was escorting Rian to his Mage Trials, I managed to obtain two Sacreliths. One is already complete and the other will be finished in the months to come.”

  “That is good news but hardly something that necessitated an immediate contact.” She paused, her eyes flickering back to Rian. “Not that we do not appreciate the chance to talk to our son.”

  “Indeed, we always love seeing you,” put in Eldrie as he beamed down at him. “We have missed you terribly. Why, when your mother found one of your spellbooks in her sitting room yesterday -“ the woman in question interrupted with a cough and narrowed eyes. “Err, she misses you very much.”

  “I-It is good to see you both too,” Rian said, scratching his head awkwardly as his cheeks heated up.

  Thankfully Soren cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “The reason we contacted you actually, my lady, is that we’ve reviewed the marriage dossiers and are ready to start sending out requests for your son to meet his potential spouses-to-be. Rian, would you care to explain?”

  He shot Soren a dirty look at being put on the spot before turning to his parents. Nervousness filled his stomach. Yes, they were family, but he wanted to impress them all the same. Bowing low, he said, “As Soren stated, we looked into my future marital options.” Biting his lip, he weighed what next to say before electing to temporize a little. “I have not decided who I would hope to be my partner in life, but there are no less than five individuals I would be interested in learning more of…”

  He explained the choices he’d narrowed the list down to, speaking well of each although he was careful to reserve the majority of his warmth for Isabel Carib. His parents listened attentively, his mother leaning forward in her seat as he broke down the strengths, capabilities and assets of the various women and how they might benefit House Miel.

  The angle of the mirror made it easy to imagine that he was there, seated across from them in the council room as they talked about his duties to come. It was familiar, warm.

  When he was finished, his mother slowly nodded. The smile on her face was small, but her personality was as cold as the ice her Sacrelith could generate. Even the tiniest of grins was a rare sign of warmth. “Excellent work, my son. You have clearly given a lot of thought to this and we will make certain to contact the families of the five women in question. We will be careful to show no signs of favoritism at this point, of course, the better to supplement our bargaining positions.”

  “Although we will pay special attention to Lady Carib. Her family is a loyal one to the king, which will benefit us if we are in need of aid. Besides,” Eldrie added, sending him a wink that made his cheeks flush further. “I can tell that you are rather intrigued by the girl.”

  Rian could only stutter out his thanks.

  Soren coughed once more. “Indeed, Rian did fine work today. However, there is more to the situation that I wanted to bring to your attention. It seems that Rian is not the only one interested in Duke Carib’s daughter. The Gazif family has also made noise about a possible match with one of their sons.”

  “They do have a fair number of holdings, almost the equal of our own,” Eldrie said, stroking his beard. “It would be a wealthy match for any family.”

  Jela snorted. “As if any upstanding family would want their daughter associating with one of those brats. They have no drive or passion save for doing as little as they possibly can. They will hardly be competition for our son.

  Rian’s heart warmed at the pride in her voice.

  “Still,” Eldrie broke in, “that does not mean they will be pleased to have us interfering with their suit.”

  “They have been after Nyna’s holdings ever since she got married,” Sore
n said. “If we were to do this, it is likely they would seize some of our caravans in retaliation. It’s even possible they might use it as a pretext for a declaration of war.”

  “Hmm…” Jela leaned back, tapping one finger to her chin in contemplation. “It is possible but doubtful. We handily defeated them the last time they tried to lay siege to some of our holdings. Tell me, Soren, have the Gazifs gained enough allies or strength to encourage them down such a road?”

  Soren sneered at the thought. “Hardly. The last match they made of any significance was a cousin getting married off to a baron five years ago, and their levies were hardly a match even before the Uzviar’s allied to us with Nyna’s marriage. On top of that, the recent unrest of the kingdom is to the east and includes their own lands right in the middle of it. At the very worst, I imagine we may wish to consider alternative caravan routes until their tempers cool.”

  “Very well, then send the match. I shall inform our caravan leaders to avoid Gazif territory for the time being,” Jela said. “Was there any further business?”

  “Nothing certain yet, but our representative at Duke Tolthor’s reported to me that there has been trouble of late between the duke’s heirs. Squabbles over their future inheritance.”

  “Are there not always?” Eldrie rolled his eyes, chuckling humorlessly. “The elder brother believes he deserves more due to his experience, the younger thinks he is a better ruler and old Gilbreth is too soft to reign them in. That is no more news than the sky being blue.”

  Soren frowned at the jibe. “Apparently Lord Genthru is really trying to press their father to make a decision this time, saying that it’s best that things are settled now rather than at his passing. As Genthru is our liege lord, I wondered if we should attempt to intervene on his behalf - perhaps in the negotiations. Jela’s brother Jerrard is skilled at the various complexities, after all. He could tilt matters in Genthru’s favor.”

  Skilled was one way to put it. Rian preferred ‘obsessed’. Certainly, knowing the basics of inheritance law was a necessity of being amongst the nobility, but Sir Jerrard’s eyes turned positively feverish when he talked of lines of succession, wills, claims and the like.

  After a few moments’ thought, Jela shook her head. “I think not. Genthru may be a good lord, but that sort of trickery often results in war, an expensive proposition when the only gains would belong to our liege. No, let’s keep out of it and see what old Gilbreth decides.”

  “I concur, dear. That said,” Eldrie turned toward Soren, “it is good you contacted us. You were right to bring these to our attention, and that is why you are our valued chancellor.” He smiled kindly. “Thank you, Soren.”

  Soren bowed deeply, any displeasure assuaged by Eldrie’s warmth. “You are most welcome, your lordships.”

  “That said, how are you doing in your own journey, Rian?”

  He blinked as attention returned to him, but quickly told them how things had gone so far and his success at the first trial. His parents both listened attentively, even asking a couple of clarifying questions.

  In the end, Eldrie leaned back in his chair. “So just two more trials remain before you start attending this academy. Then you will be there until you finish your studies.”

  “Yes, but it will only be for a couple of years. I will be back soon enough, I promise.”

  “It is a shame that we will not get to see our son for so long but we are still pleased for you,” Jela said, knitting her eyebrows together in thought before inclining her head in reluctant acknowledgment, “You have brought honor to House Miel.”

  Unlike her, Eldrie smiled; it was a big and wide grin... but it was the sort of smile one might give their pet after performing a good trick.

  Rian suppressed a sigh. They were humoring him but it made sense. To him it was important, but to them… Just like for Soren, their greatest priority was the growth of House Miel’s strength. Becoming a mage, save for demonstrating the ‘superiority of the Miel’, didn’t really do that, so it was completely understandable that they would only humor him.

  The conversation turned back to his marital suits soon enough.

  Chapter Six

  He was halfway through his breakfast when there was a knock at the door. After quickly checking to make sure he was not in his sleeping clothes, Rian opened it to find Alensia bowing deeply before him.

  “What will you have me learning today, oh wise teacher?” she said, her voice deeper than he ever heard it.

  He massaged his forehead while Maleth scampered inside. “You must be joking.”

  Her stern expression lasted for but a moment before she started laughing. “Perhaps a little, young lord,” she said, grinning as she got to her feet. “You are less than half my age, so it is rather odd that you are teaching me. Humor aside though, I’m ready to begin.”

  He shook his head, unable to suppress a wry smirk as he led her into the dining room once again. “Be that as it may, I felt it best we start with a few basic tests to see where you are at.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Didn’t we just discuss that yesterday?”

  “Yes, but there is a wide variety of skill even amongst those new to the art. As I have yet to see you cast, the basics of enchantment to you might be barely understanding it or you might be capable of casting a few spells already. Knowing where you stand will tell me where your next steps should be.”

  “That does make sense... What did you have in mind?”

  He gestured at the table, where a knife engraved with the combined symbols of the Miel family and the academy rested, so polished that the steel flashed silver in the noonday sunlight. A spoon and a plate sat beside it, bearing the same symbols and clean enough that the very dust seemed afraid to touch them. “I want you to enchant each of these objects. Begin with enchanting the knife for greater sharpness.”

  She nodded. Taking a seat, she took a deep breath and placed one hand over the knife’s blade. At first there was nothing but then her hand started to shimmer a pale lavender, a glow that soon encompassed her entire hand, then all of it flowed to the tip of her index finger until it looked like a purple candle’s flame.

  She pressed it into the flat of the blade, little tendrils of light wisping from her and seeping into the steel beneath.

  Rian watched in complete silence, letting her work without distraction. Being able to cast a spell was good, but in many ways, it was less important than how someone cast it. The way one summoned and guided their magic told so much about them if one paid close attention.

  There were no sparks flitting off Alensia’s fingertip in random directions, nor did the magic backflow into her hand at any point. That meant that when she drew strength from her body and channeled it into the spell, very little was wasted.

  But a glance to the hourglass beside the window showed that five minutes’ worth of sand had already spilled down and she was still working on the same spot. There were no signs of tiredness, yet while the blade had begun to glow the same lavender as her spell, it was dim and flickered regularly.

  Time to try something else. “Let’s take a short break.” Once she pulled back and her attention was on him, he continued, “To your credit, you have a decent amount of power and you are efficient in turning it into your spell, which is good, but your speed leaves a lot to be desired and the enchantment is not taking all that well.”

  Alensia bristled at his words, green eyes flashing. “Well, I don’t exactly have a Spellstone, do I? If I did, I would be much quicker.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her defensiveness, and she colored.

  “My apologies, young lord, I don’t handle criticism all that well.” She closed her eyes, swallowing uncomfortably. “Please continue.”

  “Very well. Now, in regards to your comment about a Spellstone making it faster, you are completely correct. Even an unmastered Spellstone would allow you to give this knife a basic enchantment in only a few minutes, but there is a reason that we do not rely on Spellstones for everyt
hing.”

  She grimaced. “Their price.”

  Rian blinked, suddenly remembering that she lacked his resources. “Actually, no. The materials to create a Spellstone are fairly inexpensive. I could easily afford to drown us alive in them.” He shook his head. “The reason is much simpler. Space. Each Spellstone is about the size of a man’s fist, somewhat fragile and able to cast exactly one spell. Carrying more than ten or so on your person would be challenging, and just the basic enchantments alone would add up to dozens of Spellstones easily.

  “That would be a bit much, wouldn’t it?,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Indeed. What most magi do is they carry the Spellstones they master, a few more that they use regularly and rely on their natural casting abilities for anything else.” He allowed himself a smirk. “So unless you are planning to make a career of sharpening knives -”

  “I’d best learn the normal enchanting methods,” Alensia finished. “Alright, so how do I go about getting better?”

  “While we do not have a Spellstone for this, that does not mean we cannot utilize the principles behind one. Allow me to demonstrate.” Alensia allowed him to take her seat and he rested a single finger on the knife, drawing upon his body’s strength.

  It was more difficult than utilizing a Spellstone as, rather than having a willing aid eager to guide him, he had to find the power and channel it in the appropriate patterns himself. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, then the tip of his finger began glowing the same lavender shade as hers had earlier.

  However, while the color was the same, the design was different. Where wispy tendrils of purple light would come from her casting, a steady blaze of lavender came from his fingertip, tracing triangles of light into the blade, only for them to melt into it, those parts of the knife glowing the same shade as his spell. Steadily, he added more and more triangles to it, until soon enough, he was finished. The knife shone lavender from top to bottom before slowly returning to its normal metallic gleam.