Rian digested her words. How strange. His family told him that it had been different in the past, but today, the nobility looked at magi as of little more import than a skilled craftsman or a trained warrior. There had been polite words about him repeating Arnla’s journey but they were merely ceremonial. To them it was a hobby, but to these people… Never before had he seen anyone offer anything close to the admiration the common folk heaped upon Sideb now. If I pass the trials, will I receive smiles like these?
Soon they came upon a plain wooden door between a candle shop and a shrine, upon which had been carved ‘Pelric’s’ along with a rather crude picture of a roasted ham. It creaked when they opened it.
Inside was a dark little pub, only large enough to fit a single bar and a few booths in the sides. Still, a fireplace in the corner gave it a low, intimate lighting and, although the furniture was rough and cheaply-made, it was clean and had the look of being well-cared for. The offerings scrawled on a placard over the bar consisted of a fair selection, all at prices he imagined most would be able to afford.
This early in the day it was quiet and there were only a few customers seated at stools along the bar, each looking little different from the crowd teaming the streets outside. They ate slowly in an effort to make their meals last. Only one of them, a skinny old man with squinting eyes, bothered to glance at the newcomers, and even that was for but a moment before he returned to his meal.
There were no waiters or waitresses, just the pub-master, the eponymous Pelric. A thick-bodied man, he had a scruffy beard the color of pewter that laid over a tunic that was old and ragged, yet noticeably free from stains. He bustled about mixing drinks while offering a swarthy smile that didn’t quite cover the tiredness on his face.
When Rian sat down, the wooden booth was hard and bumpy and he suspected that running his hand along it would result in a splinter or two, yet in spite of its downsides, he liked what he saw. This was the sort of quiet little place where someone could rest themselves after a long day and it was certainly better kept than most of the pubs Soren had taken him to during their journey. Even without Alensia’s promised aid, he would have been glad to have come. He waved Pelric over with a smile.
The man turned to them, and his tiredness vanished the moment his eyes fell upon Rian’s companions. Setting an empty platter aside, he rushed over with a wide grin. “Alensi’! Little Mal’! What’s got you two here today?”
“Pelric!” Maleth gave the man a great squeezing hug, letting loose peals of laughter when he hoisted him into the air and swung him about before placing the child back on the ground with a surprising gentleness for someone his size.
Alensia grinned up at the man before talking with an accent Rian had never heard from her before. “Do you recall how I’m taking me Mage Trials? Well, I’ve made myself a bit of a young friend.” She nodded kindly at Rian. “We were hungry and he had a question, so we came to this here hole.”
Patting Maleth absently, Pelric looked over Rian with raised eyebrows. “That so?” he said, suspicion audible.
He gulped. The man disliked nobles. Could he sense his status on him like an aura or a stench? Pelric had to be twice his size and looked like he could pound him into jelly with two swings of those meaty fists. Why did she introduce him like that? Surely there must have been a better way to bring the topic up than saying it so directly!
An elbow to his side and a pointed look from Alensia reminded him that it was his turn to speak.
He cleared his throat and said, “Err, yes, we are both attempting our trials and I need your help with -”
“Ah, so you’re gonna be a mage too, ain’t you? I remember when I did me Mage Trials. Quite the experience, it was.”
“You tried to take them too?” He asked before he could stop himself. Realizing he might have sounded offensive, he quickly added, “My apologies, you did not appear the type. I do not know too many people who failed the Mage Trials.”
Quickly added… and dug himself deeper.
“So you assume I failed?” Pelric growled. “I might be a mage and just decided to make me own pub,” He stepped closer, looming over Rian as he cracked first one set of knuckles then the other, “An mayhaps I be thinking you need a lesson, aye?”
“I - I -” His thoughts halted in a soup of horror and embarrassment. How had this gone so wrong? What should he say? “I just - I had a question, did not mean to insinuate -”
“You bookish folk come around here, always looking down on hard-working people like me. Bah!” He jabbed a finger at Rian. “Around here, there’s no merchants, mages or common folk. Here, I’m in charge! And I’ve got a rule for you damn assholes: if you wants to stay, you gots to drink the ‘Demon’s Brew’!”
The other patrons all turned to watch at those words, swiveling in their seats.
“The what?”
“Oh, it just be a wee bit of a drink, nothing too much,” Pelric said with a smile that was all teeth. He rubbed his hands together as he went to pour the beverage in question. “You gots nothin’ to worry about.”
Maleth shrank back, clutching his mother’s side
“Pelric, don’t be so petty. My friend didn’t mean it - he’s barely more than a boy!” Alensia broke in in an attempt to help. It might have offended him if it weren’t for his growing sense of terror.
“Rules are rules,” Pelric shouted from behind the bar, the words punctuated with various clinkings, bangings and… was that an explosion? “He wants to stay, he gots to drink!”
“Yeah, drink!” shouted the patrons, before starting to chant ‘Drink!’ over and over again. They were downright eager to see Pelric at work, like this was some sort of ritualized humiliation; perhaps it was, and he was the victim.
Rian’s hands shook. What madness was this ‘Demon’s Brew’ the man spoke of? Maleth’s terrified demeanor and Alensia’s worry did not bode well. Perhaps he should leave... but he’d come for answers on the assassin. If he didn’t find out the truth, he might have no choice but to return home after the Trials. He mustered his courage. Surely a drink couldn’t be that dangerous, right? “Alright,” he swallowed, “I’ll drink it.”
The patrons cheered and another boom came from behind the bar as everything was mixed together, all to the tune of dark laughter.
“Don’t do it,” Alensia whispered. ”That stuff, it’s strong. I’ve seen it put a full-grown man flat on his back.”
“Now, now, let the boy do what he likes.” Pelric sidled over, cup in hand. It was filled with a green and black sludge, and steam billowed from it in thick clouds. It smelled like a potent mixture of poison ivy and rat droppings. “Just one shot is all you need… course, I’ll bet a brat like you’s never done anything tough in your life.” His eyes gleamed with an evil light. “It’s up to you.”
Rian shivered. It looked like liquid death, but if he was going to find the assassin, this was the only way. Trying to ignore the terrified screaming in his head, he took the glass and chugged it down, hoping not to taste it.
That hope was in vain. Each drop was lava, sharp and bitter, burning all the way down as his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He gagged at the taste of rot and worse, covering his mouth with both hands to keep from vomiting. Even so, his throat roiled, desperately trying to expel it before it could invade his stomach. He clenched his eyes shut, ignoring his body’s panicked cries and began swallowing it in tiny little bits, before gulping down the rest of it.
When he finished, he was bent over the table, his tongue swollen and feeling like a horde of angry bees had gone after it, the rancid aftertaste filling his mouth. Still, he held himself up with shaky hands... “That wasn’t,” he swallowed down another gag, “so bad…”
The crowd cheered but Alensia sighed. “Wait for it.”
“What do you -” His stomach started to rumble. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the floor heading right for him.
***
The world was far too bright, ev
en the low firelight burning his eyes.
“I can’t believe you actually drank it,” Alensia said when he woke up to her placing a wet cloth on his forehead. “That stuff will turn your liver to swill.”
That was an understatement, if anything. His head still swam and his stomach roiled painfully, but luckily he had been given a pillow to rest his head on, and now he laid on one of the cold booths, the rest of the patrons having returned to their meals now that the excitement was over. “But I…” he started to mumble but trailed off before he could finish his thought. It hurt to think.
“Shush. Give yourself a minute to recover and drink some of this. It’ll help you feel better.” She handed him a mug of something warm with a sweet scent to it.
It was delicious. It reminded him of the chocolate bars his sister had imported from Intelli but in a liquid form. It soothed his aching gut, not removing the pain but numbing it some. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled but a moment later her expression hardened and her voice became a growl. “As for you,” perhaps it was a side effect of the Demon’s Brew, but he thought he heard the sound of a mouse squeaking, “quit scaring my friend, you old coot! You know well as I do that he didn’t mean no offense!”
“It was an acci -”
There was a thud of something blunt striking flesh and Pelric cried out. “Alensi, come on!” the man whined, “look, I didn’t mean nothing by it. A little joke is all.” He turned to Rian, a growing lump visible on his forehead. “Ain’t that right?”
The pain behind his temple made it hard to feel much sympathy but he still needed the man’s help, so he gave a stiff nod and Alensia relented, although her lips were still pressed tight together.
Pelric chuckled weakly. “Thanks, an’ you were right about me failing. Couldn’t pass, so I opened me pub. Still wish I could be one but…” he grimaced, “things never worked out proper.”
Alright, that brought him some sympathy, if a smidgen. He knew that fear all too well. “That doesn’t mean you had to give up though. You can try the Mage Trials again as many times as you want until you succeed.”
“Well… you see… That’s…” Pelric fumbled his words before finally just bowing his head in defeat.
“He did try,” Alensia said quietly, “several times, but not once did he make it past the Second Trial.”
“Oh...”
Pelric smiled ruefully. “For folks like you, you can spend your days practicing and training, but I had a living to make an’ kids to take care of. Couldn’t make the time, so now,” he chuckled again, but it was more sad than amused, “well, I’d be amazed if I could even use me old Spellstones. And I couldn’t be going and risking me life, not with a family counting on me, so that dream just kind of… ended.”
“I… I see.” To have to give up on being a mage, to lose everything he had worked for and have his hopes and dreams ripped away. In spite of what had happened, Rian could feel the man’s pain. He had spent so much of his life preparing for the Mage Trials… To be like Pelric, to try to complete them for so long, only to fail every time… he didn’t think he could bear enduring what the man had. “I am so sorry....”
“Eh, it ain’t a bad life. Built me pub from the ground up meself, and met a lovely girl in the process. I’ve really moved up in the world. Sides, mayhaps me kids will be able to do what I didn’t - one of me girls says she’s thinking about it. But enough about me.” He gestured to the full plate of food sitting before Rian. “I know you be meaning to talk to me but business ain’t meant to be done on an empty stomach.” Rian’s stomach growled, showing the truth to the man’s words. “Eat up and I’ll be helping you when you’re done.”
Rian did as Pelric said, starting his meal so he could calm the raging void that was his stomach. Still, the man’s story kept whispering in his mind; it was his greatest fear come to life, that no matter how hard he tried, he would never become a mage. Once this was over, when he passed the Third Trial and dealt with the assassin, he vowed he would come back here. Perhaps I could tutor his daughter, help her achieve what her father once strived for. That way his hard work will not have led to nothing.
The idea made him smile, and not just because he felt bad for the man. While Pelric was not quite at the level of some of the chefs his family employed, his work was excellent all the same. The ingredients were simple ones but combined into a wonderful blend, the pork sizzling in its own juices alongside a bowl of thick, flavorful stew. It was far different from the places Soren had taken him to. Some only had a harried waitress who didn’t have the slightest idea what she was doing or a bartender who didn’t give a damn about his patrons. Here -
Maleth let out a loud burp and he jumped.
“Thanks, Pelric!” chirped the boy.
Alensia massaged her forehead with a groan. “Maleth, you’re not supposed to belch when you eat.”
“Sorry!” said the boy, not even bothering to pause shoveling food into his mouth as he continued his brave quest to gobble everything in sight.
Rian was unable to suppress a smile at the sight. Nodding to Alensia, he said, “Manners aside, he seems like a good boy.”
She smiled softly. “He’s my world,” she fondled the boy’s hair, ignoring the squawked protest before her expression darkened and she bit her lip. She took a bite of her pork, chewing it slowly, only to nod as she seemed to make a decision. “You said that for you becoming a mage is about learning the depths of magic, but that’s not true for me.”
He blinked. But then… why ask me to tutor her?
Alensia must have noticed his confusion, as she added, “Don’t mistake me. I enjoyed learning from you, but that isn’t why I want to be a mage.”
That clarified very little. “Why so then? Why put it in all the work?”
“As a noble, you might not understand, but,” she let out a soft sigh, “being a mage… would grant me so many opportunities. Mages can rise in the ranks of the kingdom and are always welcome, even at the doors of the nobility. If I were a mage… well, I’m the only parent my son has now. He needs me to care for him and this is my best chance to do it, perhaps my only one.”
Warmth spread through him at her words. “Your son truly has a loving mother. May fortune favor you in the trials to come.”
“Thank you, and it’s good to see you again, both for Maleth and me. Last time we spoke was before we took our Second Trial.”
“How did it go for you?”
“I was nervous going in but I was careful, avoided the runes and blew up the golems.” She laughed easily at the recollection. “Even with my lack of experience it wasn’t too bad, so I’m sure it was downright simple for you.”
Rian shuddered at the recollection of an army of golems hunting him down, their thundering footsteps just behind him and their roars threatening to burst his eardrums. “O-Of course it was,” he said with a forced laugh, privately vowing to do better next time. He would not let himself be that weak again. “Have you given any thought to the Third Trial?”
“Of course but, well, there’s only so much I can do.” Her face colored and worry lined her expression. “I only have the one spell, after all.”
That was right… He bit his lip. He’d mastered two himself, although only one would have been useful against the golems. To achieve victory with only one spell, he didn’t like those odds. If most of the competitors were like him, they’d have two spells, and if just one of them countered hers, victory would be extremely difficult.
Still, it wasn’t impossible. “I am certain you can do it,” he said, keeping his doubts to himself. “Just be smart and do your best.”
Her expression cleared at his words and she started to smile again. “Perhaps. Well, I’ve got a couple of ideas in mind.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll find out when you see me fight.”
The tavern had begun to clear out and they were just finishing their own meals when Pelric sat down beside them with a thu
mp, his large frame forcing Rian to move over to avoid being squashed. There the man twiddled his thumbs, looking about as awkward as Rian felt watching him.
Clearing his throat, Pelric said, “So Alensi’ tells me you be looking for a someone who attacked you. Mayhaps I can help you, long as you promise to be keeping me name out of the telling.”
It was a promise both easily made and kept, so as he finished the rest of the food, Rian described the man who’d attacked him. It wasn’t much of a description, sadly, as between the darkness and the assassin’s outfit, there were few details. “... the thing most noticeable,” he finished, “was the scar on his chin. It was thin, but sort of curved over the bone..” He turned to Pelric. “What do you know of him?”
Pelric narrowed his eyes, deep in thought, before finally snapping his fingers. “I… gots no idea who he is.”
The words struck him like so many boulders. “What? But you know the criminal element, do you not?”
The man gave him a flat look. “What sort of criminal element you be thinking goes to me tavern? A cutthroat or jumped-up thug, aye, I might be knowing him, but a real assassin with a Sacrelith? That be a different sort of beast. Look around.” He waved his hand at the rough decor and cheap design of the tavern around them. “Anyone in the market for one of those wouldn’t come to a shithole like this, not even if I’d be paying them.”
Rian sunk into his seat. Put like that… he felt rather foolish. The idea of the Gazifs coming to a place like this was laughable. Alensia looked embarrassed at not having realized it herself.
“So you do not have the slightest idea of who he is,” he said, cradling his head in his hands. All this way, the entire journey for nothing.
“Afraid not…”
His mood drooped further but Alensia said, “Just because we don’t have his name doesn’t mean we don’t know anything, right? Think about it, he was there waiting for Rian. Well, I’ve been in those catacombs and you can’t see much of anything there. The only way he would have found you was if he knew you were coming.”
The Mage Trials Page 16
