“Ah, so the metal man has some steel after all,” Valennia murmured to herself, apparently ready to fight the golem when the sound of a staff being slammed onto the ground echoed around the chamber, and a powerful voice called “Stop!” Arch-Chancellor Zachariah stood near the stairs as the scene continued to unfold. At his command, the construct released Valennia and walked back over to its post near the front door.
“I’m sorry that had to happen,” Aiden said to the powerful wizard as the crowd of onlookers began to dissipate. The mage that Valennia had grabbed recovered his dignity and scurried off.
“I should bar both of you from ever walking on University grounds again, and believe me when I say it woman, I have the power to make it happen,” Zachariah warned her. “Your friend is being questioned on the second floor by Deans Webber and Foster, in the antechamber off to the right. If I hear about any further disruptions I will back up my words with deeds.”
Feeling a little self-conscious, Aiden said nothing as the old man descended the stairwell until he was out of sight, and then glanced sideways at the Akoran woman.
“Try not to stir up any more trouble while we’re here,” he advised.
“I will remain silent until needed, if that is your wish,” she said. “You cannot deny the effectiveness of my methods though, Aiden,” she added with a look of satisfaction.
Taking the stairs to the second floor, the two companions emerged into the library they’d seen on their previous visit to the tower. It was not nearly as large as Aiden had first thought, and the presence of a dozen young men and women scouring the shelves for tomes of knowledge added a crowded feeling to the room.
They walked through the twisting maze of bookshelves with excess tomes piled up around them. The distinctive aroma of old books laced with some kind of exotic herbs was thick in the air, and the presence of so much paper seemed to deaden sound in the confined space — the very nature of the room instilled in them a need for silence as they searched for the antechamber Zach had mentioned.
Aiden noticed a dark wooden door on the curving stone wall just ahead, crafted as if to recede into the background and escape notice. A stout handle was evident on the door, which he tried without success to open. His attempt however, had gained the attention of whomever was on the other side of the door, for a few moments later it opened and a very cranky-looking wizard peered out at them.
“Oh, it’s you,” Desmond grumbled, his words distorted by the pipe in his mouth. “Rest assured, your companion is unharmed and—”. Valennia interrupted the old mage by shoving the door open and walking casually inside. Following her in, Aiden saw Sayana sitting at a chair in the centre of a small room, with Dean Webber looking on with interest.
A table in front of her was littered with scrolls and books, some of which had been burned to a cinder. The chamber itself seemed to be more of a workshop or office than anything else, and a large bench upon which rested several curious objects dominated the far wall.
“Mister Wainwright, we’ve been expecting you,” Webber greeted him with a smug grin. “Your lovely young friend here is most intriguing.”
“Are you okay Sy?” Aiden asked, ignoring the cheerful wizard for the moment. Despite appearing somewhat harried, she seemed unharmed.
“I am well, though I do not care to be treated like some sort of oddity,” she answered, directing her complaint at the wizards offhandedly. “Does your arrival mean I can leave now?”
“In due course, my dear,” Webber assured her. “You must understand — this is the first chance we’ve had to examine a sorceress up close, with the added benefit of not being utterly destroyed in the process. You are quite remarkable my dear, and your co-operation will advance the understanding of wild magics for the University.”
“A priest I recently spoke to mentioned a dangerous sorcerer who, long ago, required the aid of the Church to deal with,” Aiden remarked, reluctant to indulge them but having a genuine concern about this topic.
“Ah yes, we’re all familiar with him around here,” Desmond supplied, puffs of smoke emanating from his pipe. “Dreadful chap. From what I’ve read, he was quite mad and unleashed terrible destruction upon the realm before he was finally beaten by Sir Marcus Elward.”
“Rest assured, we do not believe Sayana is anything like that,” Dean Webber was quick to point out. “Records show that wild magic typically manifests in similar ways amongst those that have been known to possess it, and understanding more about such things now will aid in any future encounters. Please, let us induldge our scholarly impulses a while longer.”
“Just a few minutes I’m afraid,” Aiden responded. “We have important work to do and Sayana has been an important part of our team.”
“Of course, we’ll wrap this up in a moment,” Webber assured her. Desmond turned to an old book and flipped through the pages, stopping now and then to examine a few lines of ancient writing.
“Aiden, I am hungry and bored,” Valennia stated. “If you no longer wish to break your friend out of here, I will take my leave.”
“Yes, go and have a meal,” Aiden advised, conscious of the eyes of both wizards glaring at the back of his head. “Try not to get into a fight on your way out.”
“I will try, Aiden,” she complained before stepping outside the door and walking away.
“Planning on a break-out, were you?” Desmond smirked.
“Well, as a last resort perhaps,” Aiden replied sheepishly.
“I’m flattered,” Sayana remarked dryly, “but this wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I’ve actually learned a thing or two.”
“I do love to teach,” Webber conceded.
“You know Harold, I think I’ve found a correlation here,” Desmond mused, still focused on the book.
“Hm?” Dean Webber murmured absently, lost in his own thoughts.
“The records of all these sorcerers go back over two hundred years,” Desmond explained. “Since we’ve had no such occurrences for some time, sorcery hasn’t been a primary subject of study with the University.”
“Understandably so,” Harold agreed. “What is your point?”
“After examining these records, it seems clear to me they were elves, every single one of them,” Desmond explained. “There isn’t really a detailed description of each individual, but certain characteristics are quite prominent — the pointed ears, the tall, lean musculature, and the almond-shaped eyes. I fear the record-keepers of the day were quite lax in their duties.”
“Are you suggesting that all sorcerers are elvish?” Harold mused.
“The ones that were running roughshod over the Kingdom in years past, yes,” Desmond confirmed between puffs. “Although, our young friend here doesn’t seem to fit any of those descriptions.” The old wizard stepped forward and, on what must have been a wild guess, pushed aside Sayana’s unruly mop of red hair to reveal one of her slightly pointed ears. She reflexively brushed the hand away, having been caught off guard by the gesture, but both mages had seen the shape of her ear and Desmond looked to his counterpart in triumph.
“Remarkable,” Harold murmured to himself. “I wonder if being a half-breed will have an influence on her power.”
“Those earlier tests demonstrated she isn’t drawing power from her surroundings,” Desmond added. “I think the diluted blood may well be part of that reason. Fascinating.”
“How is that fascinating?” Sayana asked dangerously.
“Those like you in the past, bearing your sort of markings and abilities were unable to control the vast amounts of power at their disposal,” Desmond explained, “and inflicted considerable damage to everything around them. If you are only half-elven, this might not prove to be the case. Honestly, I’m just guessing here but the facts are slowly coming together.”
“That means we don’t perceive you as a threat, in case you were wondering,” Dean Webber added condescendingly. “Tell me, which of your parents was elvish?”
“My mother,” Sayana
replied quietly. “I remember little about her, but I do recall that she had tattoos similar to the markings I bear.”
“I wonder if other sorcerers of note also had tattoos similar to hers,” Desmond mused to Harold, gesturing at the markings barely visible under the sleeves of her shirt. An idea seemed to spring into Harold’s mind, for his eyes lit up at the suggestion.
“You know who these remind me of? Terinus,” he stated, receiving a surprised look from Desmond and one of confusion from Sayana and Aiden.
“What is a Terinus?” Sayana asked warily.
“Who, my dear, who,” Desmond corrected. “He is the king’s personal wizard, and one of the most accomplished practitioners of magic in the entire realm. I caught a glimpse of tattoos similar to yours on his arm after he had been wounded, a few years ago.”
“Perhaps this man has some answers then?” Sayana asked, a sparkle of hope in her eyes.
“He would be very interested in meeting you, were he not accompanying His Majesty on his campaign in the west,” Harold explained. “I am sorry, but if you are still here when he returns, I will arrange a meeting.” With that, both wizards turned to their respective notes and began scribbling down information. Sayana gave Aiden an imploring look and he agreed that it was time to be going.
“Well you’ve had ample time to study Sayana’s capabilities,” he said, “and since you’ve concluded she isn’t a risk, perhaps it’s time for us to leave.”
“Hmm? Yes, of course,” Harold replied absently, grabbing a few scrolls from nearby and reading through them. On a reflex, Aiden shifted his vision and saw that they were magical scrolls, and a strange feeling of longing came over him.
It wasn’t difficult for him to understand, for ever since this whole business had started, he had been close to death many times over. Making use of the power contained within the arcane writings gave him an edge, and if he were to face any more foes such as they’d met over the past few weeks, he wanted every advantage he could get.
“Say, I don’t suppose I could obtain some of those arcane scrolls you have there?” he asked Harold tentatively as Sayana rose from her chair and walked to a nearby table to retrieve her belongings.
“‘Obtain’? Do you mean purchase, or are you perhaps seeking some sort of gift from the University?” Harold inquired curiously.
“I could purchase some of them,” Aiden clarified, recalling the small sum of wealth at his disposal, held in the local bank. He had the man’s full attention now, but Harold seemed very suspicious of his motives.
“And what use would they be to you, sir?” he asked Aiden. “You have no formal training. I’m afraid that these scrolls aren’t for use by common folk, as the language is very difficult to learn and one misstep in the reading could have unforeseen consequences for you, and those around you.”
“I’m aware of the risks, but I actually have had some training in the field and I’ve used them before with little—”
“Training? What training?” Desmond interrupted, putting down his quill and glaring at Aiden directly. “To whom were you apprenticed? I have not seen you here in our halls over the past few years, and our numbers are not so great that I would have missed you in classes.”
“Well, to be honest, I’m self-taught,” he replied honestly.
“Self-taught?” Harold exclaimed incredulously. “Oh, I see. Desmond, what we have here is a hedge wizard.”
“What’s that?” Sayana asked, looking at Aiden strangely.
“The term describes a peasant wizard, usually a commoner who stumbles across some old books and tries to teach himself, usually at the cost of his own life,” Desmond explained. “My dear boy, you’re lucky to still have all of your limbs attached if you’ve been going around reading incantations from scrolls like these.”
“I had a few hiccups, but I’ve managed pretty well so far, actually,” Aiden said defensively, not pleased at being referred to as a hedge wizard. He knew enough about “peasant wizards” to realise proper wizards used the term pejoratively. “I’ve mostly studied artefacts and magical lore, as well as the language itself.”
“I see,” Harold nodded condescendingly. “I’m very sorry, but regardless of how well you might think you understand such things, I cannot allow you to make use of these scrolls for your own safety, as well as the safety of those around you. Our students here train for a solid ten years before we let them at things like this, you know,” he added, patting the pile of parchments next to him. The wizard then turned to look at the table as if he’d forgotten something, and glanced at the objects lying around.
“Is there something wrong?” Aiden asked, trying to cover up his disappointment and anger at being dismissed as an untrained simpleton.
“Nothing, nothing really,” Harold replied absently, “I’m just missing one of my enchanted rings, is all. Never mind, it’ll show up! I’d forget my own nose if it wasn’t attached to the front of my face.” One of the objects on the table looked familiar to Aiden — a sceptre with crystals and gemstones encrusted in the head of it. He blinked in disbelief, for it was the same sceptre he had left behind at the Battle of Culdeny.
“Where did you get that sceptre?” he asked quietly.
“I brought it along,” Sayana replied, carefully sheathing her axe over her back. “I figured it was too valuable to just leave lying around.”
“I concur with your assessment, miss,” Desmond stated, blowing smoke in Aiden’s direction with a spark in his eyes. “Wait a moment — did you use this sceptre prior to its arrival here?”
“I used it to help rescue the princess from her captors, yes,” Aiden replied as he waved away the smoke, hoping to impress the wizards with the magnitude of the task he had accomplished with his “peasant skills”.
“Good Lord, no wonder it’s all bent out of shape. It’s not a club, young man! This goes to show you what we mean by proper training — you broke a perfectly decent artefact, and quite a powerful one from what I could ascertain.”
“Can you fix it?” Sayana asked curiously while Aiden struggled to find the words to answer the old wizard.
“Most likely, though it will take quite a lot of time on my part, and I haven’t even begun to calculate the expense of replacing these crystals,” Desmond complained. “You clearly have some talent for breaking priceless artefacts, sir.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” Aiden mumbled, feeling humiliated before the sort of people whose approval he silently craved. He’d read about wizards and magic for years, but never had the opportunity to join their ranks. “I think we’re done here, Sy. Let’s go.” He turned to follow her out the door, wondering why on earth Salinder had told him to speak with Desmond, for the man was a cantankerous old crank. But considering the unreliable nature of such minds, Aiden felt compelled to make one last attempt to speak with him about it. “Are you sure the name ‘Salinder’ means nothing to you, Desmond?”
“There it is again, ‘Salinder’,” Desmond grumbled. “You really have a stake in selling those damn bevelling planes, don’t you? Well, I suppose it behoves me to help you keep a roof over your head since you don’t seem to have any aptitude for magic. I will take three of these ‘salinders’ of which you speak Aiden, but I expect a bulk discount.”
Aiden stared dejectedly at the old mage for a moment in disbelief, and then simply shook his head and walked out the door without saying a word, hoping to put this whole experience behind him.
“Next time, I’ll just let Val take care of situations like this,” Aiden growled as they descended the stairs. “That must have been unpleasant for you, being stuck in there with those idiots.”
“They’re smarter than you think,” Sayana confided in him, “but their minds do tend to wander.” She held her hand out towards him, as if offering him something. Looking down, Aiden gasped when he saw that she had a whole sheaf of arcane parchments in her hand.
“When did you find the time to grab all these?” Aiden asked, looking around furtively to make
sure they weren’t being followed.
“When I was putting my equipment on and you were talking to them about scrolls, strangely enough,” she explained with a faint smile on her full lips. “As I said, their minds tend to wander.”
“Sy, you’re a treasure,” Aiden laughed quietly, accepting the gift eagerly as they headed towards the large doors leading outside.
Half of the compound had been cordoned off while men were clearing the remains of the rubble and as such, the University grounds were almost devoid of people. Outside the gates however, the narrow streets were packed with citizenry going about their daily business, oblivious to the events of that morning.
Aiden wended his way through as best he could, looking for the path of least resistance with Sayana following in his wake. By the time they reached the inn, he was beginning to understand the virtues of a country life, for the smell of so many people living in a small space was rather ‘bracing’, to say the least. Sayana must have been holding her breath, for when they stepped inside the Fair Maiden she gasped and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
“Are you alright?” Aiden asked out of concern.
“I’m not so used to crowds, is all,” she answered. “I’m still getting used to this place.”
“Of course, I understand,” Aiden assured her before his attention was caught by a cry of triumph from across the room. Valennia had thrust her fist into the air and called out to them, obviously expressing her joy over retrieving Sayana from the tower as if it had been some sort of challenge. The inn wasn’t particularly crowded at this time of day, but most of the nearby patrons looked at her with varying expressions of disbelief.
As he walked over to their table, there was one issue about her that he couldn’t resolve and it was something he was going to address right away.
“Val, I understand your people have a deep distrust of those that use magic, and yet you don’t seem to share that prejudice. Why is that?”
Soldiers of the Crown Page 18