The next day, Eric and Kasile met for the second challenge of the New Scepter Magic Competition. The contestants had gathered in the castle's auditorium so they could watch (and be intimidated by or laugh at) their fellows perform. Kasile gave another speech explaining the rules of the contest and wished them all luck. Though they were many they boiled down to one guideline: use magic to look as impressive as possible.
One by one, the students performed their feat of magical prowess. They were all moderately impressive and the judges gave them fair scores. Then Kallen stepped on stage and the mood darkened.
She put her hands together, palm to palm, and drew them apart. Before Eric's eyes, a white staff appeared between her hands. It was a head shorter than she, smooth and trimmed. One end held a pommel stone and the other was curved in the shape of a crescent moon on its side. The crescent held a translucent arrowhead crystal and a grey light shinned within. Kallen spun, twirled the staff, and slammed the pommel stone on the ground.
It broke loose from the rest of the stage in an even circle and raised her high above the audience. One foot from the ceiling, it stopped as a pillar of rock. Kallen's staff crystal shined grey light and the pillar followed suit. Then she jumped off into a five-foot free fall and crouched on a surface made of nothing but air.
From her new platform, she shoved the crescent head into the pillar and it melted from the point of impact to every corner. An ethereal grey case held it upright. Kallen swung her free hand as a conductor might at a concert and the lava flowed in accordance with her movements. She made arches, catwalks, and spires until she had a castle of lava. She removed her staff and the castle slagged forward.
“Freeze!” Kallen commanded and an icy chill ran through the room. It was gone as soon as it came, leaving the molten rock ice blue and glistening.
“Break!” The castle exploded and the dust swirled and howled around her, obscuring her from view. Gradually the funnel thinned until it vanished. Kallen stood, unscathed, on a mound of dirt. It was the only evidence of her act.
She spun her staff once before collapsing it between her hands. When she spread them to take a bow, the staff was nowhere to be seen.
“Are you sure you're not a labrat?” A silver haired judge asked. “I heard that trick with your staff is still in the testing phase.”
“It's something like that, yes,” Kallen grated. “What's my score?”
The judges deliberated, told her, and she sat down. Eric was called to perform next but he hesitated. It would be impossible for him to match that! He'd be laughed off stage! Then he remembered Kasile's agenda. His friend was counting on him and he carried the guild's reputation. Running away would be worse for all three.
The young man took the stage and held his arms at his sides. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Mana soared to his palms. As he chanted, the water blue light shifted to the colors of glue and pitch. Twin spires of light and darkness flared in his hands.
The novice mage rotated his arms to bring the streams tip to tip. They brushed and flashed golden light. With a shout, he slammed his hands together and the clap echoed like a sonic boom. The audience was blown deep into their seats. To their amazement, Eric stood tall with a golden sphere.
The trickster threw it above his head along with smaller ones as it climbed higher and higher. The golden ball swelled as it consumed its brethren. Then he withdrew an object from his pocket, a many-faceted prism, and threw it at the sphere. The prism refracted the sphere's light and rainbows flew over the audience. There Eric stood, underneath an orb of gold and streaming rainbows.
It was glorious!
Then one of them crashed into the floor and flooded it with water from nowhere. Others hit the walls and ceiling and plants grew on both. Vines grabbed the rigging, trees sprouted on the ceiling and flowers bloomed on the banister. They were just as quickly incinerated by other rainbows. The ashes were blown away by rainbow winds. The audience ducked for cover but Eric stared in amazement. This never happened before . . .
Chapter 19 Game Over
Boys screamed and girls shrieked as the eight earthly elements wrecked havoc all around them. Fire, water, earth, wind, lava, ice, forest, lightning; they terraformed the auditorium into a stage for chaos. Watching from that stage was the director himself. A grin crept onto his face as he watched the prissy mages scatter. Then one of them was struck by lightning, collapsed, and didn't move.
This needs to stop! He took aim and fired black bolts from his staff. They expanded on impact, consumed the rainbows, and cloaked the room in darkness. The others screamed, but Eric savored the void; it felt as close to home as his bridgehouse. Then a tremendous power flowed past him; wild, invigorating, and unknown. A flash of light dispelled his darkness and everything reset.
The auditorium was undamaged; no tree or fire or puddle of water to be found. The mage that was struck sat up unharmed. The audience was as bewildered as Eric himself. Then he heard applause; Kallen clapped from stage right. One corner of her mouth tugged upward in a self-amused fashion. Her eyes held an eager light.
“That was quite a performance, Mr. Mercenary. Wasn't it, ladies and gentleman?”
“I agree, a most impressive illusion, Mr. Watley,” Kasile continued. “I remember you cast such spells at my captor's hideout.” Play along!
“Oh yes, I figured stealth would be the most effective.”
Whatever his score was, Eric never found out because he was dragged off stage by Kallen. Hope lit up her face as she asked endless questions: his background, his friends, his hobbies, down to his favorite color. Eric was so flattered he even talked about the bullying in school and the death of his parents. She was especially interested in his elfin gal friend. When he said Annala worked at Across the Sea, she turned on her heels and ran out.
“You're welcome!” she shouted over her shoulder.
Exit Stage Left . . .
The judge with silver hair stopped him on his way out. Making sure he could see the Darwoss crest holding her cape in place, she offered a deal: the equivalent of the prize money in exchange for dropping out of the contest.
“Why not?” the judge demanded. “The prize money is what you want, isn't it?”
“No,” Eric said. “I want to win; the prize money is icing on the cake.”
“If you insist, I will double it.”
Eric arched an eyebrow. “You're that desperate to get rid of me?”
“Listen, Mr. Watley, this is a prestigious tournament to honor students that work hard and apply themselves. It is not for mercenary leapfrogs. Every year we indulge the princess's wishes and allow the random riffraff she chooses to take part. They always fail because they tried to take a shortcut to fame. Now she is going to use this fluke to say that anyone can do well in our competition despite how many before you have failed. Don't you see how she is destroying our traditions?”
The first line made him wonder if she had a vested interest in the contest being reserved for academy students; maybe she worked there. “Shortcut to fame” was similar; longer route meant more tuition. The last line was easy: the traditions of discrimination and elitism.
“I am a student and I have worked hard,” Eric deadpanned. “Once I win that trophy, I'm gonna shove it up your ass.”
It was hard to keep a straight face when the Silver Hair judge spouted angrish. The highlight of which was, “Kkaks Parhg Bgarr!” In the end, she could do nothing but stomp past Eric and try to hit him with the hem of her cape.
Eric. I'll be ready in twenty minutes. I just have to change out of this dress.
The mage left the auditorium. Kasile, as your tutor and friend, I think you should slow down.
Eric, I NEED to learn Magic Sight.
I understand that, Kasile. The mage was in a side hallway. But you can't read ahead. When I did that, I went insane. It was awful; I don't want that to happen to you.
Come on. Some of the best healers in the country work for my father.
I already t
aught you water magic this morning; practice that. The mage was in the entrance hall. You can move onto air magic if you want; it's similar enough.
Eric, there are three reasons why you should teach me. 1) I'm paying you. 2) If you don't teach me, I'll find out anyways. 3) I'm the princess and I can order you to.
Unperturbed, he crossed the courtyard. Kasile, there are three reasons why I don't have to listen to your three reasons. 1) A starving mage makes a poor contestant. 2) The spell is written in code and no mage wants to be responsible for driving the princess insane. 3) The Obedience of Chaos Act signed by one of your ancestors permanently revoked that power, and if they didn't, you're too noble.
We can do this all day if you want, but you know how it's going to end.
Yes, He stepped off the drawbridge. You practicing elemental magic and me going to dinner.
Silence.
You're right about 1 and 3 but I'm skeptical about number 2.
Eric wasn't worried. Magic Sight was too dangerous to be self-taught because it was too easy to cause permanent damage. Enchanted items made it even easier and thus more dangerous. Everyone who tried ended up in a hospital with kaleidoscope eyes and babbling about rainbows. Right now, he was hungry and it was the perfect excuse to visit Annala. Maybe she's forgiven me by now. He stopped running when he reached Across the Sea and pushed the doors open.
Annala smiled from waiting desk and said, “Hi and wel-oh.” She pointedly looked away.
“Annala, I'm sorry. I said I was sorry 50 times. What do I have to do to make it up to you?”
Adorably put out, she said, “Eat a cartoon of wasabi. In one swallow.”
“If that's what it takes, bring it on!”
“An impossible task for a lady's favor.”
Annala jumped slightly. Kallen leaned on the bench to her left. “Knock it off, Kallen . . .” Annala said softly. “Eric's my friend.”
“Then do you mind if he joins me?” Kallen asked cattily.
“I . . .Uh . . .” Annala pulled on an ear.
Eric stood a little straighter and said, “Kallen, did you come here to tease Annala or eat?”
“Eat, of course.” She showed him a menu. “Have you had the mushu? They say they have good mushu. I've had real mushu, so I'm curious as to what they think is mushu. Do you like mushu?”
Eric gritted his teeth. “Stop saying 'mushu'!”
“Mushu!”
Deep breath, calm down . . . “Mushu isn't why did you ran off earlier. What is?”
“That act made me hungry.”
“Stop evading! You know wha—”
Annala grabbed them both by the arm and dragged them away from the entrance. Their bickering was driving away customers. Kallen chuckled as the girl, shy and blushing moments ago, hauled them both to her table.
“So you don't mind after all?”
“I'm not his girlfriend, but I am his friend. Don't put your claws in him.”
Kallen raised one hand and said with the utmost solemnity, “Trickster's honor.”
Annala groaned heavily and returned to her post. Her long ponytail swished and caught the light from the windows. Kallen watched Eric watched it sway, as if in a trance.
“That's what I asked her about.”
Eric blinked. “Huh?”
“Her hair. I asked about her hair. I wanted to know how she kept it such a rich golden color.”
Eric stared at her incredulously. “You know why; she's an elf. Tell me the truth.”
Kallen smirked. It was like she was pleased with his answer and expected it. She's playing with me . . . Kallen's smirk widened; she knew that he knew, that she was playing with him and it seemed to make her all the more amused.
“I asked her what it was like to be an elf in a human city. I'm interested in elfish culture; you do know that right? I'm the first human since the Conversion War to be allowed inside Dnaac Ledo.”
“Dnaac Ledo?”
“Annala's hometown. Her dad was at the opening joust. He's their diplomat, you know.”
A light shined in Eric's eyes as he realized the answer to an important personal question. So that's why she was wearing a dress!
“ . . .and then went home.” Kallen continued. “Eric are you listening?”
“Something about a gnome?”
“No, home; Annala's home. I paid it a visit last week.”
“Is that why you're in this contest? Politics?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Why did you help me during my act?”
“Why do you think I helped you?”
“Why do you keep dodging questions?”
“Why do you keep aiming them?”
Eric rubbed his forehead. “I'm a curious person. You had nothing to gain from helping me. I know I'm not competition to someone like you—” Kallen blushed. It surprised Eric so much he lost his train of thought. Dengel reminded him. “but there was still no reason to help me.”
“I wouldn't be so sure . . . you think I'm in the contest to win.”
“You're not?”
Kallen munched a cracker. “I didn't say that.”
“Yes, you—” Talking with this girl was giving him a headache. “Why are you in the contest?”
“I want you in the contest. You're fun.”
“What does th—” Eric stopped again, but this time it wasn't of his own will. Kallen leaned over the table and kissed him.
A ripple in his mind; stones skipping across water. Light and warm; deeper; sinking. Puzzle pieces tentatively approaching, connecting. Deeper and deeper until a surface. It was gone.
Kallen was back in her seat and smiling. There was not a hint of smug amusement; this smile was true happiness. It was meant for a dear friend she hadn't seen for years. Eric felt the same and it made him all the more confused. Then, Kallen pulled out a camera.
“You make the funniest expression when startled!” She spun to the kitchen and yelled, “Can I get a waiter over here?” She looked back at Eric. “You want anything?”
While they waited, they had a lively conversation about their shared travels. Eric expected her to brag endlessly about the wonders she'd seen but she was strangely quiet. She did speak of them but was more interested in her companion's. When he mentioned Kyraa, she asked about the Altar of Rebirth. When he nodded, she asked if he found a crystal like the one on her staff.
“Why do you ask?”
Kallen clapped her hands and revealed her own. “They're special, these crystals . . .” Again, Eric noticed the grey light; the same color as Dengel's soul mist. “They can be used as amplifiers and storehouses for magical power. I've been looking for another, but . . . no luck yet.”
“Well I did find one, but I traded it for something else.”
“I see . . .” She didn't sound the least disappointed.
Dinner ended and so did dessert, leaving both mages stuffed and satisfied. They briefly argued over who would pay until they agreed to split it. Kallen said goodbye and wished him luck. It was only after she was gone that Eric realized: This is the closest I've ever had to a date!
After his stage performance, Eric thought he'd seen the most mundane application of magecraft imaginable, but it was world series soccer compared to The Third Challenge.
“The Royal Magical Fabric Stitching Competition will now begin!”
This is servant's work . . . Dengel said moodily. It is beneath my skill and knowledge . . .
His protests were much louder the previous night. Pride demanded that Eric refrain from entering it at all, as he couldn't bear to take part even as a passenger, then his pride changed its mind and demanded that he win. All night he insisted Eric practice magical spinning and sewing and weaving, etc.
Of course, one night wasn't enough. His thread was durable, but he lacked the speed and practiced ease of the students. If that weren't enough of a handicap, Getis kicked his loom, tangling the threads and forcing him to start over.
“Five more minutes!” the judge
called.
Eric scrambled to make up for lost time, which naturally led to one mistake after another. At the fourth one, he blacked out.
“Time's up!”
His eyes shot open. Everyone else was finished. He panicked, thinking Darwoss would exploit this failure to expel him from the competition all together. Yet, his own design was also finished; sloppy and embarrassing but finished.
What happened? I blacked out and—
I believe the term is 'zoned out'. You were so focused, you blocked out everything else. Turn in the ridiculous piece of fabric so I may begin wiping it from my memory.
Kasile politely snagged him after the results were tallied so she could show her mastery of the Four Basic Elemental Spells. While they were weak, Eric consented to teach concealment, so long as she continued to practice elemental. During the lesson, he used their private line to ask her about Magic Sight, but she refused to say why she needed it; “a tool for an ongoing investigation.”
“Training in martial arts, studying magecraft, overseeing a competition and investigating your own kidnapping?” He crept in the darkness of her dark bolt. “You are a busy girl.”
A small dagger poked his back. “A sound work ethic is a job requirement for the Queen-To-Be.”
Eric held his hands up in mock surrender. He'd seen her coming, but decided to let her win. Ever since he cast Dark Veil, his night vision grew better every day. He asked Dengel, but the dead mage refused to say anything; Basilard told him it was “an Otherworlder thing” and therefore not Kasile's fault. Nevertheless, she would think it was and obsess over it and Eric didn't want to add anything to her already overflowing plate. Her high personal standards were why she took the Royal Trial so seriously.
He'd researched the “curse” and was shocked to learn that many royals died during their trial. The family wouldn't exist today if those royals didn't have siblings. Kasile's mother died in childbirth and her mother was the one carrying royal blood. If she died, there would be no second chance. The stress would crush a lesser person but Kasile used it as motivation; she learned dark bolt, dark veil, and lupine baffler before the day was spent.
A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) Page 38