It was then that she felt a frisson ripple up and down her, and she gasped. A thrill of dread and delight caressed the pit of her stomach, and she could feel all her hairs stand on end. She shivered as she caught the faintest melody of a far more potent tune. Whereas the silvery bright magics before her played the gentlest flute-like harmonies, the tune she now felt caressing her ears was of a far richer sort. It didn’t whisper its melody so much as thrum through her very soul. It teased and tempted her, awakening a delicious tingle of excitement, like waking up to a wonderful memory, or falling deeply into a burgundy dream.
For the truth of it was, for all that instruments played to what her sister swore were tone-deaf ears were just a series of sounds to her, a gala symphony little more than pleasant background noise like the babble of a nearby brook, the melodies of power were songs she understood in all their terrible beauty. As if lost in a trance, she found herself approaching what looked to be an ancient bronze helmet. It was exotic in appearance, the crafter adhering to principles of elegance and design alien to that favored by armorers of the present day.
Tiny images of spear wielding warriors were painstakingly crafted into its sides, its odd design no less fluid than that of the finest steel helmets worn by the king's own champions. Mounting it too appeared to be the jaws of a bear clamping fiercely on the top and back, made of solid gold. In its eyes were two pieces of darkest amber.
Jess found herself grinning as she gazed at the ancient artifact, realizing intuitively that the bear motif was not an artistic flourish, but in fact served as a fundamental core component of the construct. It was not a carved bear’s jaws mounted upon the helm but part of an actual skull, dipped in gold. And from it, dark red chords of magic thrummed with power. A sharp contrast from the almost willowy fragile strands of prismatic light that caressed the other artifacts about the chamber, these chords were ancient. And far more potent, possessing a rich, honey-sweet essence Jess could almost taste.
She grinned as a hot frisson of pleasure rippled through her soul. She could almost feel the hymns of a dark chorus ring through her skull as her hands caressed the helm, its ancient magics taking no harm from her gentle touch.
35
Don’t touch that!” The master enchanter's voice, sharp and crackling with authority, cut through Jess’s daze. Only by dint of supernaturally fast reflexes did she catch the ancient helmet before it fell out of her startled grasp. Heart suddenly racing with a sickly tinge of dread, her hands shook as she carefully put down the helmet. Breathing heavily, she blinked, as if awakening from a fever dream.
Ren’s approached her, his blazing eyes glaring into her own. His gaze turned from one of outrage to suspicion to concern as, whatever he saw in Jess’s eyes, it was enough to mollify the dark wildness she first sensed emanating from his crackling aura, terrible energies clenched in hand gently allowed to recede. “Please, Lady Calenbry, touch nothing!” He paused then, gazing at Jess carefully. “Are you all right, child? You look a bit dazed."
Jess took a deep breath. “My apologies, Master Rens. I don’t know what came over me. I suppose I was just a bit entranced by the helmet’s song.”
Rens blinked, and Malek shook himself from a look of deepest despair that Jess barely caught a glimpse of, soon replaced by concern as he approached his friend, curious as to what had transpired during his conversation with the master enchanter. Jess inferred in that split second that the conversation had not gone well, but snapped her attention back to the matter at hand before she risked offending Rens further. “It… called to me, I guess. It entices with a far more potent tune than that sung by the other artifacts you have nearby.”
Now it was Rens's turn to look nonplussed. His grip on her shoulders was gentle but very firm, and Jess ruthlessly suppressed her warrior’s instincts, knowing it would be a very bad idea to attempt to spin out of his grip and perhaps dislocate his arm in the process. “Speak clearly, child. What do you mean when you mention music?”
Jess took a deep breath, ignoring Malek’s wry aside about her being tone-deaf. “I mean the harmonies played by your magical artifacts: The notes of power that resonate when their arcane chords vibrate through the mundane realm, fluxing in and out of our reality.”
Jess paused and suddenly flushed. Having forgotten, in her excitement, the mocking laughter she had suffered from her classmates the one semester she had taken magic theory, when her hopes of becoming a wizard one day were still bright and burned within her. She had claimed she could see the chords of power when her professors demonstrated simple playful magics to the class. Her peers had quietly snickered or shaken their heads, and even her professors had looked at her with polite disbelief.
They had been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, thinking perhaps there was some hidden potential, and she was paired with some truly gifted students, which was how she met her true friends Alex and Jera. Soon it became humiliatingly obvious that she had no magical talent whatsoever. For despite Jera’s supportive words, and Alex’s calm attempts to teach her, Jess failed to harness a single strand of magic, let alone channel it into a single one of their assigned spells.
All of the things which even then Alex and Jera could do so effortlessly, weaving the strands of magical energy into songs to captivate an audience, or brilliant flashes of light, or use it to levitate a tome off the table by way of demonstration, all of it was completely and utterly beyond her.
Eventually her classmates lost all reservation in their mockery of her claims to be able to see chords of magic, and even her professors' curious gazes had turned to ones of pity. The sad little girl with delusions of grandeur, spouting wild claims in order to make herself feel better about her own utter lack of talent.
She had fled that class, no matter that Alex and Jera had tried to console her, doing her best to avoid anything to do with the Wizards Wing ever since, only today daring to enter their hall.
And here she was, in front of one of the school's grand masters, spouting her ideas of hearing and seeing chords of magic, claims that had gotten her all but laughed out of the school, so long ago.
Jess found herself blushing so hard she felt her cheeks burning, and it was all she could do not to sprint out of the wizard’s great chambers in sheer humiliation, his easily broken grip on her shoulder aside. Yet Master Rens’s gaze was neither mocking nor derisive, merely curious.
“Say this again, girl. Are you saying you could hear these artifacts' songs?"
“Well, yes." Jess swallowed, her throat suddenly bone-dry. "They also sparkle."
He raised an eyebrow. “Sparkle?”
Jess nodded solemnly. “Yes. Sparkle. Especially the other items. Silvery fine chords of magic loop about them giving them a sparkly sheen as if they were covered in diamonds.” Jess turned her gaze back to the ancient artifact before them, her voice soft, reverential once more. “The helmet is different.” Jess paused, at a momentary loss for words. For a moment Rens’s bemused expression had mirrored her previous professors, but he snapped to attention once more when she mentioned the helmet.
“Tell me about the helmet, Jessica. Tell me everything you can sense.”
Jess took a deep breath. “Its song is different. More powerful. Much more powerful. And it's, well, redder. And not as fragile.”
He blinked. “Fragile?”
Jess nodded solemnly. “Yes. The other items you have on display are beautiful constructs, harmonious, and play the sweetest gentle melodies, but they seem… easily broken. I wouldn’t dare touch them lest I disrupt their chords, they look so fragile. But the helmet? Its song is far more potent. It doesn’t twinkle with the high-pitched tune of a flittering songbird, it throbs with the thunderous roar of a raging bear. It is no stranger to struggle or power or blood. It… feeds on such things.” Jess shuddered slightly. “I don’t know. That’s just the sense I get from it. It is a potent artifact, and the only one I’ve seen here so far that I’m not worried about accidentally breaking.”
; Rens stepped back and he looked at her with an appraising gaze that shook Jess for a minute. He almost appeared impressed. “You gathered all that, unschooled and unaware, just browsing my artifacts, while your friend and I had our little discussion. Fascinating.” He then turned back to a rapidly approaching Malek whose expression was utterly unreadable to Jess.
“Malek! Why has this girl never attended my classes?” he asked of a suddenly nonplussed Malek, stopping him in his tracks.
“I don’t know, sir. But from what I recall, she had mentioned seeing people’s spell chords before. If I remember correctly, the class was too busy being skeptical for the professors to take the claim seriously.” He paused. “Her friends, however, never doubted there was more to her talents than those numbskulls believed.”
Rens shook his head. “Damn fools. If something doesn’t fit exactly within the bounds of accepted magic theory, they refuse to believe it even exists. How often do I have to remind them that the theory itself is based upon arbitrary conclusions that we’ve adhered to for centuries? They don’t encompass all the laws of magic, merely the most basic ones. You need but gaze upon those foolish children racing about the corridors that our dean is perfectly content to have poking about tomes far beyond their abilities to understand just how limited our understanding of magic truly is.” He sighed gustily. “Damn shame. Oh well, nothing we can do about that.”
He gave Jess an approving nod and clapped her shoulder. “Let bygones be bygones, dear Jess. Forget those fools. I think you have a good eye we could put to use. If you would be willing to stop by from time to time? We could use your insights. That is, if you have an interest in the arcane.”
Jess could feel herself smiling so brightly her cheeks hurt. “Master Rens, that would be an honor.”
He nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Well then, I think you’ve earned an explanation. Those earlier items are masterwork constructs made here at the college, no few by yours truly. Several are good for generating light and heat at need, others can help a farmer dowse for water or play harmonious tunes to while away a dull winter's evening. Several have other wonders they can cast. However, for reasons we are still grasping to understand, their application and utility are limited. Some are limited by place: their magics may be potent but their range is limited, becoming strangely inert when taken to any area in mundus where magic doesn’t resonate quite as strongly as it does here at the college. Or, as some say, where the veil is thickest and the Shadowrealms are least likely to break through. Other items are limited by the phases of the moon, or specific rituals needed to use them."
The enchanter gave his artifacts an affectionate nod, as if showing his fondness for them, despite their flaws. “Make no mistake, our enchanters have made many useful artifacts that have been the boon of many a farmer. But such items are often constructed on site, are dependent upon ritual, moon phase, or season, and never leave the farmer’s lands. Items that are potent, mobile, durable, and work anywhere are rare artifacts indeed. And, I fear, they are beyond the grasp of most enchanters.”
Rens took a deep breath and gazed deep into Jess’s eyes. It was not an intimate gaze, but it was a searching one. "There is so much to learn from our ancestors. We cannot begin to reach the heights of magical potential that we surely have within ourselves, did we not better understand the triumphs and follies of our past. This artifact, dear Jess, might well be a desperately needed key to unlocking those ancient secrets. And it seems you might just be the key we have been looking for. Now if you wouldn't mind, please hold this artifact one more time. Don't worry, I will be right here, beside you. Tell us whatever you can. I will take to heart anything you have to say on it."
Trembling, Jess swallowed and nodded as Rens brought forth the artifact once more.
Jess found herself drawn to the bronze helmet once again, her hand reaching forward, gently touching the ancient bronze. Untarnished, after so many years. It was warm to her touch. Warm, like blood. Its power pulsed through her and she felt it. The barely contained fury of a raging beast, tied to the maelstrom of the cycle of life, yet forever apart, trapped in this helmet.
A fierce, terrible power. Dormant. Yet ready to come raging back to life, should one wield its mantle once again.
Jess lurched back, caught firmly in the arms of Master Rens, who she only then realized had been yelling out to her, Rens’s and Malek’s voices having blended into an incomprehensible babble while the helm’s mysterious power so seductively called out to her. She sunk to her knees, momentarily weakened by a massive twisting pain in her gut, yet it quickly subsided. With a gasp, she lurched herself upward once more, led stumbling to a chair by Rens himself.
The powerfully built mage gazed intently at Jess, handing her a flask filled with wine. "What can you tell me?"
Jess drank deep, putting her thoughts in order.
"Deep in its core, it contains the spirit of a bear, does it not? It sleeps for now. But when a warrior bold enough to wear it joins in battle, he would commune with the spirit trapped within, and his body would be infused with the power of that ancient beast. His swings would have the power of a raging bear, and he would be just as hard to stop. His bones wouldn't break even if he jumped from a castle wall, and no weapon could crack his skull. If he wears a full suit of mail to catch the points of any blades, he would be near impossible to defeat. He would be the perfect soldier to lead a charge, to break through lines of enemy pike or a shield wall, assuming he doesn’t slip into a frenzy, overwhelmed by the bear's spirit, and just kill everyone who falls under his reddened gaze, like a berserker in truth.”
She shook her head. “I can just feel it, Master Rens. I don’t know how else to describe how I came to my awareness. For myself, it’s as obvious as my eyes telling me you favor burgundy colored tunics.”
Rens nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Jess’s face. “I believe you. And now, dare I say it, you know more about this artifact that I did but an hour ago. I will make careful note of your observations, and will make sure we heed your insights in determining the nature of this device. And fear not. As a student scholar, even one wearing that most unfortunate robe, you will receive full credit for your insights, should you wish it. Indeed, our humble college here could sorely use someone of your unique talents, Lady Jessica de Calenbry.”
He sighed. “But you also leave us in a delicate position. The first truth we were able to determine after endless hours of costly research was that this artifact does indeed contain the spirit of a wild beast. Unfortunately, the less enlightened would still react with revulsion, should they come to understand that this was the path our ancestors took, in the creation of their many mighty artifacts.
"Fearing necromancy and dark arts, most won’t take the time to consider the significant differences between harnessing a beast's spirit, which naturally resonates with our realm, and a human soul, which would suffer terribly, were it to be so ill used.”
He favored both students with his solemn gaze. “It is our hope that continued research of this and several other treasures that we have uncovered will unlock any number of vital clues in the art of forging wonders that are not quite so fragile and limited as the paltry constructs we are capable of today. But I fear it will be awhile before our new branch of study is developed enough to show both its incredible potential, and the controls we have in place to assure that none of our students slip off this dangerous path. Only then can we assuage all concerned parties regarding the ethics and value of this path of study. In short, Jess, Malek, we need time. And for that, we will need both of your discretion as well.”
He gazed firmly at both of them. Slowly Jess nodded, and Malek’s bemused smile let her know that he had no problem with this avenue of study at all.
Rens smiled approvingly. “Well done! And in return, I shall grant you both a boon. Malek, though your professors say some avenues of study do not come easily to you, the unique phantasm you showed me earlier demonstrates excellent potential in your areas of strengt
h. I suspect that your martial proclivities and skill with wards have resulted in you perhaps being unfairly pigeonholed. Certainly, little enough effort was made to assess your scholarly potential as a wizard, only your role as a future battlefield mage commander under General Eloquin's tutelage. Were you to be channeled in the right direction, your talents could blossom in ways useful to both you and the college, beyond the battlefield."
Malek’s eyes lit up in barely contained excitement. “Do you mean…?”
Rens nodded. “Yes, Malek. I will take you on as an apprentice in the discipline of enchantry. It will not be an easy path, especially as you lack certain gifts some of your peers possess, but I can tell that within certain narrow specialties you have significant potential, and together we will work out a program to see how best we can channel your gifts into the art of enchantment."
Malek was speechless. He fell to his knees and kissed Rens's hand.
Jess could sense all too well her shieldbrother's gratitude for this boon laid at his feet, the opportunity to study under one of the college’s masters and break free of the chains of mediocrity that Jess knew he had felt constrained by for so long. So too, the opportunity to study this ancient, possibly forbidden path of magic; to feel different, special, having access to something others did not, would bind Malek's loyalty to Rens utterly. Thus, turning a potential loose end into a loyal ally.
From a tactical perspective, Jess thought, Rens had played his hand perfectly. She flashed a bemused smile at the master enchanter, dipping her head as if acknowledging a point earned. Rens’s return smile was no less sardonic.
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