Bibliomancer

by James Hunter

  The time was well past midnight—therefore technically the next day—and both Sam and Finn had to be up by six to prepare for their round of morning chores. It was going to be an awfully early day, that was for sure, and considering just how much liquor he’d downed, Sam figured it was going to be an awfully painful morning at that. He hadn’t been hung-over since freshman year, when he ‘accidentally’ downed an entire blender of margaritas at his first Berkley party. First and last, as it turned out.

  Sam clearly recalled the following morning, when he’d woken up wrapped in a shower curtain and missing his left eyebrow—some generous soul had shaved it clean off in the night. He’d had to pencil on a fake brow, which didn’t look even remotely natural, for almost a month. He felt that drunk tonight and silently prayed that come first light, things would be a little less messy this time around. Together, Sam and Finn headed back for the College, sticking to the well-lit portions of the city since they were both snookered and Sam doubted very much whether their magic would even work.

  The pair of them earned some curious or even outright disapproving looks from the night patrol, but no one stopped them on their way back to the College. The fact that Finn was dressed like a Noble and kept summoning a flurry of snow around him as a cloak may have had something to do with that. Sam didn’t know everything about this city, but it seemed unlikely that the guards would willingly pick a fight with a scion of even a minor house since the political consequences could be devastating. That probably went double for Apprentices with the College proper.

  The Mages of Ardania wielded an unhealthy amount of power and influence over the city, and no one, it seemed, wanted that power turned against them. Just a little after one in the morning, Sam and Finn stumbled through the portcullis and into the eastern courtyard. Sam didn’t particularly care for the College, but he was certainly looking forward to faceplanting on his uncomfortable little cot and stealing whatever shuteye he could before the new day officially started with its litany of chores, classes, and responsibilities.

  “Uhhhh, Sam,” came Finn’s voice, his words slurred and jumbled, “I think we may have a problem.”

  Sam blinked lazily and focused on the present… How in the world had he failed to notice there was a small crowd of people milling about in the courtyard at this ungodly hour? Oh right. Lousy, no good, low perception. That and the alcohol.

  Upon closer inspection, Sam saw it was a group of Mages, ten strong, along with a pair of College thugs wearing heavy armor and carrying enchanted halberds that glimmered with opalescent light like pent-up moonbeams. A cold feeling of dread filled Sam, sobering him in an instant as a Mage stepped forth from the assembled group and lowered his cowl, revealing none other than Octavius Igenitor, Earth Mage and Peak Student in charge of making their lives absolutely miserable.

  Sam had no idea what these assembled Mages wanted, but it obviously had to do with him and Finn, and considering the circumstances… Well, these guys probably weren’t here to congratulate them on their victory over the Hardcores.

  “If it isn’t our two wayward children, come home after a long day of breaking every rule that governs proper Mage society. Drunk, no less, which is a further indictment against you. Public slovenliness is unbefitting of a member of our illustrious order. Guards,” Octavius looked at the two armor-clad guards waiting in the wings to swoop in, “please take them into custody now.”

  Finn pushed away from Sam, swaying slightly, blinking heavy-lidded eyes as he lifted his hands and conjured a slowly spinning ball of frost. The surrounding Mages acted at once, magic springing forth in bursts of color. Blue Mage Armor shimmered to life here, a cloud of emerald light formed in the air there… as they prepared to put Finn down by force if necessary.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Octavius was growing more smug by the second. “We intend to bring both of you in alive, but I’m sure the Archmage will forgive us if an accident were to happen while we were trying to detain you two gentlemen.”

  Somehow, Octavius imbued so much scorn into the word ‘gentlemen’ that he made it sound like a curse word.

  “Like bloody hells you’re going to take us into custody you sadistic, sanctimonious bellend.” The confrontation had, apparently, not sobered Finn up at all. “Me and my friend Sam,” the ice Mage gestured in the wrong direction with his free hand, “haven’t done anything wrong. Under what charge are you arresting us, then, Lord Fancy Pants? Hmm? Perhaps the high crimes of having fun? I can see how you lot of morose, self-important losers might be against anything resembling entertainment.”

  Octavius glanced at a balding Mage in purple robes and issued a terse nod. The man moved at once, uttering a slick chant as violet light built in his palms like a dying star. The spell rocketed from his hands, slamming into Finn like a torpedo, but it didn’t seem to do any tangible harm. For a long beat, Sam wasn’t sure what purpose the spell was. Then Finn opened his mouth, no doubt to unleash another vicious and drunken tirade, but nothing came out. Not a word. Finn’s eyes bulged as he grabbed at his throat. Silence reigned.

  “Ah, now that's what I like to hear out of you, Novice Laustsen.” Octavius wasn't bothering to hide his smile this time. “As for your crimes, why… I wouldn’t even know where to begin!”

  Octavius folded his hands behind his back and began pacing slowly, boots *clicking* and robes swishing. “So, I won’t bother. Besides, I imagine you both are too intoxicated to properly comprehend the charges anyway. But never fear, all will be explained tomorrow and by none other than the Archmage himself! I hope you have a lovely night. We’ll be seeing each other again very, very soon.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Novice Mages Sam_K and Finneas Laustsen,” the Archmage intoned, his greasy voice sending shivers racing along Sam’s spine, “stand before the Council and prepare to receive our verdict.”

  “Verdict!” Sam shouted in shock and jumping to his feet. “We don’t even know what we’ve done wrong… your excellency.”

  He tried to keep a lid on his simmering anger, but it was no easy thing. The guards had tossed Sam and Finn into a frigid cell that was so cramped they’d barely been able to sit, and laying down was absolutely out of the question. They hadn’t received anything—no blankets, no water, no food, no information. Despite the cramped, terrible, and inhumane conditions of the cell, Finn had somehow managed to pass out for a few hours… Not so much for Sam.

  He’s spent the remainder of the night sitting in a tepid puddle, his back pressed against cold, gray stone, his knees pulled in tight against his chest. He hadn’t slept a wink. Then bright and early, the guards returned, hauling them from the cell and parading them before the Council, who stared on with pitiless gazes, their brows furrowed in disappointment and judgment.

  Worse, the same balding, purple-robed Mage from the night before had slapped another Silence spell on Finn so he couldn’t even defend himself against this kangaroo court. Sam had asked for a lawyer—because due process. The guards had openly laughed in his face as though he’d just asked whether the moon was made out of blue cheese. Which meant that it was up to Sam to handle things. He’d never wanted to be a lawyer, but he’d go to the abyss before he was going to roll over without a fight.

  “I refuse to accept any verdict rendered by this body until I know exactly which laws we’ve violated,” Sam growled, hands curling into tight fists.

  “The charges should be obvious, even to one as new you, but I suppose for the sake of the other Mages present, I can edify you, child. You two formed an unauthorized party with heroes, a group unapproved by the Mage’s College. Moreover, you engaged in unsanctioned questing outside of the city proper without first receiving a writ of approval from the Mage’s Hunting and Wildlife Division. Further, while doing so, you engaged in the willful killing of ten Travelers without our express permission! To top it all off, the pair of you engaged in debauchery and revelry in a common tavern, which is conduct unbecoming of this august body.”


  Each new charge felt like a slap to the face. That was it? Questing with a party in a game designed to go questing? Killing the Hardcores in self-defense? Having a few beers to celebrate?

  “Seriously?” Sam features were contorting in bewilderment. “Those are the charges? This is a joke, right? Like… some kind of hazing ritual designed to mess with our heads?”

  “How dare you take these proceedings so lightly,” the Archmage growled, leaning forward like an attack dog ready to pounce. Another sucker punch to the face came swiftly. “Mage Suetonius, make a note of this one’s insolence. He will receive an additional week’s punishment for Contempt against the Council.”

  “What? I’m not trying to be insolent. Seriously, I’m not! I just genuinely don’t understand. We didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “Octavius,” the Archmage’s jowls flapped like leather handbags in a hurricane as he spoke, “I am not going to waste my breath explaining what should be plain. Inform this fool, if you will.”

  “Gladly, Archmage,” Octavius replied, swooshing forward in a swirl of fabric. “This party that you joined yourself with, were they preapproved by the Mage’s College?”

  “No,” Sam replied slowly, “but what does that matt–”

  “If they were not preapproved,” Octavius cut him off, “then how do you know for certain they weren’t engaged in behavior that might be in opposition to the will of the College, hmmm? What of these other warriors you killed? Even though your actions were in ‘alleged’ self-defense, you could well have attacked a group that had ties to our College, causing a potential diplomatic incident with your foolishness.”

  “Were they a group with ties to the College?” Sam shot back.

  “No,” Octavius replied flatly, “but that is immaterial to the matter at hand. The important point is that they could have been, and you didn’t know they weren’t, yet you acted in your own self-interest… instead of the interest of the College. Even your unauthorized questing seriously jeopardized the College and even the human Kingdom of Ardania itself! We Mages serve the Crown, and if there had been a Wolfman assault, our members would have needed to mobilize for battle. Generally, Novices man the College’s defense, freeing up our more senior members to neutralize the threat, but with you and Lord Laustsen off gallivanting in the countryside, a more senior member of the College would be forced to remain behind to pick up your slack.”

  “But none of that happened,” Sam sputtered, though he already knew he wasn’t going to win this argument.

  “No,” Octavius said again, “but it could have. When you signed The Accords, you agreed to humble yourself, exchanging your own worldly wisdom for the wisdom of your betters. For the wisdom of this body.”

  He spread his hands out and turned in a slow circle. “But you and Lord Laustsen have failed spectacularly, bringing disgrace upon yourself, your houses, and this College. For that, you must learn your lesson.”

  “Well said, Octavius,” the Archmage nodded his bulbous head. His many chins wobbled at the motion like a bowl of fleshy Jell-O. “Since this is your first offense, and we do believe it was a violation made in ignorance and not malice, the sentence will be light. You each shall be fined fifty gold, and your off-campus liberty shall be revoked for a month.”

  “No leaving these premises for any reason unless explicitly instructed by Peak Student Octavius or any Mage ranked Expert or above. To ensure the lesson is one that sticks, you shall each spend an hour a day—in addition to your regular duties and classes—devoting your Mana to The Accords. This will last no less than a month, and the first session shall commence at this very moment.”

  There was a round of quiet gasps, followed by the soft murmuring of voices from the viewing stands. Sam wasn’t sure what ‘devoting your Mana to The Accords’ meant, but based on the reactions around the room, it was bad. Really bad.

  You have been offered a quest. Punishment for your crimes! Serve your sentence with the Mage’s College by paying fifty gold, forfeiting liberty rights for one month and one week, and fueling the Mana of The Accords for one hour a day for one month and one week (Additional penalty for Contempt against the Council)! This quest is mandatory if you have signed The Accords, as it has been offered by the Archmage. Rewards: You will not be hunted by the College. Accept? Yes / Yes

  Sam couldn’t believe what he was reading right now—a mandatory quest he couldn’t turn down? This was absolutely ridiculous. Punished for questing with friends and killing someone who’d tried to shake them down? Absurd and not even remotely what he’d signed up for. This was garbage, and he wasn’t going to spend a month and change locked up in this boring prison. Nope.

  Sam flat-out refused to spend a month slaving away for people like Octavius and the Archmage. Hard pass. He’d put up with a lot of crap since entering Eternium and making his way to the Mage’s College. He’d scrubbed dishes, mucked stables, waded through sewers, and waited on Octavius hand and foot instead of venturing out into the wider world and playing the game like every other sane and rational person out in the big, wide world. This was it. He wasn’t putting up with any more of this. For a moment, he considered ignoring the quest, spitting in the Archmage’s face, punching Octavius in his, then going out in a blaze of glory as he hurled magic until someone laid him out cold.

  But as tempting as that route was—and it was—now wasn’t the time or place. For one, if he did ignore the quest and start an impromptu revolt, there was every chance that Finn would get caught up in the mayhem and killed. Sam would respawn, Finn would not, and that wasn’t okay. At this point, the idea of being a Rogue Mage didn’t even sound all that bad; if things really veered wildly out of control, he could always quit and reroll a new character. Not Finn, though. This was Finn’s life, and if Sam self-destructed, there was a solid chance the young ice Mage would never recover.

  There was also another ulterior motive to consider… Yes, he could punch Octavius in the face, which would be deeply rewarding, but his victory would be short-lived. But there was a way that Sam could hurt the Peak Student far worse; he could get him in trouble with the Mage’s College. He knew exactly how to do it, though it would mean following through with the Archmage’s stupid punishment quest. Sam was sure that whatever they had in store for him was going to be horrifying, but getting even with Octavius would be totally worth it in the end. So, reluctantly, he pressed ‘Yes’ and steeled himself for a world of hurt.

  “Excellent,” the Archmage boomed. “This esteemed Council has much work to be about today, so let us conclude our business, shall we? Octavius, prepare our wayward Initiates for their punishment.”

  The Peak Student nodded, a deadly gleam in his eyes as he grabbed Finn with one hand and Sam with the other. Octavius marched the pair of them up the marble stairs and on to the same dais where Sam had signed the strange book only a few short days ago. Without a word of warning, Octavius pushed Finn away, then took Sam’s wrists and rudely shoved his hands against the glowing glass tube containing The Accords. The instant Sam’s hands made contact, fire and ice rocketed up his arms and zipped through his body; his muscles locked tight as he seized from the shock of raw power blasting through him.

  Once, when Sam had been six, he’d decided to experiment with the electrical sockets by using a small screwdriver he’d pilfered from his dad’s toolbox. His parents had warned him a thousand times not to mess around with the sockets, but Sam—using the infinite wisdom that only six-year-olds possess—decided they must be hiding something fun. After all, most fun things had to do with the electrical sockets. They made the TV come alive, made his game console work, and charged the stereo system, which brought music to the house during the evenings. What awesome things, young Sam wondered, would the light socket do for him?

  Very nearly gave him a heart attack was the answer. An answer and a lesson Sam had never forgotten. Now this? This was almost exactly like that—the power surging through his body, frying his nerve endings, searing his mind and scorching his lungs�
��making it nearly impossible to breathe. After a few brief seconds, the pain intensified even more as the biting power flowed into his Mana channels and worked its way into the blue-white core churning at his Center. Mana poured out of him like a tsunami, threatening to overwhelm him with its ferocity. It was so hard to think through the pain, but he heard Mage Akora’s lecture in the back of his mind.

  This vast reservoir of power can be dangerous to those who do not understand its proper use. If one of you were to cast a spell without directing that rush of power through the appropriate channels, it could cause great damage—everything from exhaustion to pain to fits of severe nausea. In some ways, it would be like the reservoir flooding its banks, all of that water rushing around without anywhere to go, destroying anything in its path indiscriminately. You must master your Mana, you must guide the power along the appropriate pathways, or you will be mastered by it.

  The pain was intense, far worse even than getting stabbed in the guts with a blade. If Sam was going to survive, he needed to master the process, not be controlled by it. So, letting Mage Akora’s words run through his head over and over again like a record on repeat, Sam pushed through the pain and forced the massive exodus of power to flow out through his Mana channels, just as he’d been taught. The pain didn’t lessen in the least, but Sam’s awareness of the sensation faded, turning into ambient background noise inside his head. Every time his Mana ran out, the pain flipped off only to jolt him as his Mana regen replaced a drop of power.

  Still, he couldn’t afford to acknowledge the pain because he needed complete and total concentration to keep the raging tides of power confined to his Mana channels. Directing that mad rush of arcane energy felt like trying to wrangle a hungry anaconda barehanded, but as he finally got things under control, the rate of his Mana depletion began to rapidly slow. As an Aeolus Sorcerer, he had a hefty Mana pool, and his wisdom meant that he had a naturally high Mana regeneration rate. Not enough to allow him to keep up with the Mana loss, but it kept him on his feet a lot longer than Finn.