by Alex C Vick
The stalls are closing. It's time for the Board of Mages to prepare. I'm supposed to be reading this month's sponsorship applications so I can make intelligent comments if called upon to do so. My family is always in attendance. But I've only read one of them.
Serena Caesar. It has to be her.
6 Sponsorship
There was a second magician on the other side of the doors—a man with cropped grey hair that looked striking against his purple eyes. After a few whispered words from Adelle, he nodded and indicated a narrow path leading toward the city. Another man, a cotidian going by his lack of amulet, waited at the other end. He had wavy brown hair and brown eyes, and he wore a belt with two small silver bottles attached to it.
"I'm Petro," he said, giving me the brief practiced smile of someone who met a lot of people.
"Serena," I replied.
"Please follow me."
He walked fast. My ankle was still sore, and I struggled to keep up. The silver bottles—spell bottles?—clinked together. There was only time to observe fragments of my surroundings. The city became more vibrant and noisy the closer we got to its centre.
Consistent with what Art had told me, there was an air of prosperity here. The buildings were clean and new-looking. People regarded me with curiosity. A new cotidian seeking residency didn't seem to worry them.
I stopped at a crossroads, distracted by the sight of a tall silver fountain. It had been sculpted in intricate detail to resemble one of the purple trees I'd seen when I first arrived on Xytovia. Fine sprays of water spilled from its branches, sparkling in the late afternoon sunlight. There was an unmistakable tingle of magical energy in the mist touching my face when I approached.
"Unfortunately, you cannot participate in city life unless you are granted sponsorship," said my guide. He stepped in front of me, preventing me from going any closer. "For your own safety."
"Really?" I asked. "That sounds ominous."
"Oh, no," he said with a chuckle. "Not at all. You're better protected from mage-sickness here than anywhere else on Xytovia. It's only a precaution." He urged me gently but firmly away from the fountain.
"Is it… contagious?" I said.
"What?"
"Mage-sickness. It is contagious?"
"No. Of course not." He seemed confused. "Why ever would you think such a thing?"
"I live—lived—a long way from Vayl," I said, keeping my tone casual. "I guess I'm not very well informed."
He accepted my explanation without comment, pointing in the direction we would take from the crossroads. Soon enough we arrived at the main square. It was full of people. Preparations for market day appeared to be well underway. I stared at the tower. Its rooftop threw out a dazzling arc of purple and silver light where the sun touched it.
"Wow," I murmured.
"Indeed," said Petro. "No other territory has anything like it."
"Does it use magic?" I asked.
He laughed as if I'd made a joke.
"Well, does it?" I persisted.
"You really don't know?" he said.
I shook my head.
"It doesn't use magic. It is magic—the purest magical artefact we have. As you can see, the sun's energy reveals its latent power."
"But it's not silver," I said. "A-grade is silver."
"Only after distillation," he said. "The average magician creates one half A-grade from their base supply." He paused, making sure I was paying attention. "The Vayl Crystal, however, is three-quarters A-grade."
"Really?" I murmured, trying to sound impressed.
"Hard to believe, isn't it?"
"Yes." But not for the reasons you think.
"So… it's just on display like that all the time?" I said. "It's never used for spells or anything?"
Petro recoiled slightly. "No. Absolutely not. It is a symbol. It reminds us what to strive for."
He looked at me, and I nodded as if I understood.
"You ask a lot of questions," he said. "I find it strange that you seek sponsorship here when you know so little about the life you wish to adopt."
I lifted my chin. "Magic caused my parents' deaths. I thought Vayl was a safe haven."
"Of course it is," said Petro. "I did not mean to offend you."
He took me the rest of the way in silence, and I didn't push my luck by asking any more questions. I didn't understand why the silver lumien was so much more prized than the purple. After all, my own magic changed colour with certain spells, and the change didn't make it less powerful.
We arrived at a small two-story building adjacent to the square. I had to register at a reception desk before being allocated a room. The man there handed me a key and a folder with "Sponsorship Application" printed across it. He told me to return it for consideration as soon as possible.
"I must go now," said Petro. "You'll be quite comfortable here until you meet the Board of Mages tomorrow afternoon."
"You mean I can't leave?" I asked. "Not even to walk down the street?"
"I'm afraid not," he confirmed. "It's part of the segregation policy I referred to earlier."
I stiffened, realising I was effectively a prisoner in this building until the next day.
Petro's hand drifted to his belt and came to a stop above one of the silver bottles. His pleasant expression hadn't wavered, but the warning was clear.
I changed the subject. "It's very quiet considering how busy it is outside," I said.
"Applicants only. Not many can afford to arrive in advance of market day."
"Maybe it's too expensive?" I suggested.
"The price is fair."
It was as good an opening as any to ask about Peric and Savra. "Is there anyone else here right now? I thought I saw some people go into the city before me."
"Today?" said Petro. "I don't think so."
I turned to the man at the desk. He shook his head. "No. You are the only one."
Their matching smiles were unnerving. I knew that wasn't true. If they knew it too, the smiling was downright creepy. If they didn't know, there were probably other things they didn't know, meaning Vayl was not the perfect territory it claimed to be.
I thought about faking illness to see if I might be taken to the same place as Marty. I thought about using magical force to interrogate them. Unfortunately, and as Galen had said, I knew very little about this place. It frustrated me to admit it, but waiting was the better choice.
"Perhaps I was wrong," I said.
Petro left, and I went to the room I'd been given. Once inside, I was reassured to find no trace of magical energy. An information booklet explained that energy harvested from the sun was used in this building as a source of power. The amenities were not as comprehensive as we had on Androva, but were certainly more advanced than first-century Terra.
Alongside the sleeping and living area, there was a bathroom and a fully stocked kitchen. The food was simple but tasty. It seemed a long time since the pancakes that morning, and I was hungrier than I'd realised. After I'd eaten, I made another Contusion Remedy and drank it whilst looking out of the open window onto the square. Most of the preparations were complete, and brightly coloured stalls filled every available space.
The application form was a challenge. There were several questions about exposure to magic. I tried to be vague about the specifics but enthusiastic regarding the sponsorship, claiming to have travelled a lot. An accompanying brochure listed the advantages of life in Vayl.
Once I'd returned the form, the sky was dark, and there was nothing to do but sleep. When I first woke up I forgot where I was. I sat up in bed, my hands already glowing in readiness to defend myself. Memories from the previous day returned. Vayl. I'm in Vayl. I pushed my force field back. I would have to get used to keeping it hidden.
It wasn't that Androvans walked around all day long with glowing hands and eyes. But magic did impart a certain radiance. As if we were standing in sunlight while non-magicians were in shadow, simply because our force fields enhanced eve
rything about us.
Through the window, the sky was grey and pink. It would be morning soon. The sounds made by the waking city were jarring and unfamiliar. There wasn't a single thing in this room that belonged to the real Serena. For a few seconds, my chest ached with homesickness. Don't be stupid. You chose to come here.
I used a Cleaning Spell, shivering as the spinning silver cloud of magic cleaned me inside and out, clothes and all. It felt wonderful. Androvans had no need for bathrooms. Not for washing. Or for anything else. When Galen first explained to me how the Roman bathhouse worked, I'd been shocked.
I made and drank another Contusion Remedy with my breakfast. By then the market was open and I leaned out of the window to watch, fascinated by the variety of people entering the square. There were no children today. Perhaps it had something to do with the segregation policy.
The market dealt primarily in magic. Banners claiming the best and most brilliant spells were everywhere, and an occasional flare of magical energy caught my eye as demonstrations were carried out. Flasks and bottles of different shapes and sizes changed hands as quantities of lumien were traded for spells.
When the market showed signs of winding down, I left the window to make myself a snack. I was too nervous to be hungry, but I didn't want my stomach to rumble in front of the Board of Mages. There was a knock at the door before I'd finished. I set down the plate with a hand that trembled slightly. This was it.
"Ah. Hello again," said Petro when I opened the door. He looked me up and down.
"What?" I said.
His forehead creased. "Excuse me."
"What is it?"
"We were surprised—that is, your application form indicates you are underage," he said.
"So? I can't be the first underage cotidian to seek sponsorship, what with mage-sickness being so… horrible." It seemed unlikely Marty's parents would live until he was my age.
"Yes," he agreed. "But orphans are usually younger. They are assigned to a foster family. An orphan would not face the Board of Mages."
I stood a little straighter. "I can manage."
He cleared his throat. "Yes, Serena. That much is already clear. However, so is the law. You remain a minor until your seventeenth birthday."
Seventeen. That wasn't so bad. On Androva it was eighteen.
"Less than six months," I said. "Can't you make an exception?"
"No. But an alternative has been suggested. If you would come with me."
I picked up Savra's bag and followed Petro into the square. We crossed toward the tower, and nervousness curled tighter in my stomach as I walked into its shadow. The tallest building I'd ever seen, it had to be as large as the square at its base, before rising in tiers of decreasing size until the Vayl Crystal at the very top.
The entranceway was open to the square. Folding doors had been pushed all the way back to facilitate the comings and goings. A lot of people were wearing amulets.
"This way," said Petro. "The antechamber is just off the main hall. The Board of Mages is not in session for an hour yet, so we will have it to ourselves."
"Are all these magicians here for the sponsorship thing… er… session?" I said, keeping my voice low.
"No," he said. "There are fifty magical families, and representation outside of the primary family is rotated. These magicians are here because the tower is where they live."
"All of them?" I said, astonished. "Together?"
"Not together, together," he said. "The upper levels are divided into separate apartments."
"Oh. Wait—you said representation outside of the primary family?"
"Yes. The primary family always attends," he said. "In fact, its role in the circumstances of your particular—"
He broke off as a passing magician caught his arm, leaning in to ask a question. Petro gave me an apologetic look as he listened. My nervousness increased. Art. Art might be in the very next room. I felt unprepared for the challenge of seeing him again so soon.
"Sorry about that. Now, where was I?" said Petro.
"The primary family's role," I said.
"Yes. You met Madame Bavois yesterday of course."
I blinked. "She's from the primary family? Doesn't she have more important jobs to do?"
Petro steered me in the direction of an ornate pair of wooden doors.
"Vayl is, above everything, fair," he said. "All take their turn per the schedule, and every magician donates equally to the central supply. Anyway, Madame Bavois suggested the solution, and the Board of Mages approved it earlier today."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Petro reached to pull one of the doors open. I glanced to my left, up and down, noticing a high arched ceiling and decorated panels on the walls. I turned to my right and there he was, standing next to Adelle, his purple eyes staring right at me.
"Serena, may I introduce Ammartus Bavois," said Petro. "He will be your mentor until you come of age."
6.1 Ammartus, Half An Hour Ago
I'm supposed to be collecting my thoughts. I hoped writing them down might help. You won't believe what's happened. Except the older and wiser Ammartus, who may or may not be reading this, will believe it. Of course. Because it already happened to him. Me. What I wouldn't give for a conversation with my future self to find out what to do for the best. I'm scared excited
I don't know how I feel. I just had an audience with the Board of Mages and my mother. It was too early in the day for sponsorship evaluations, and at first I thought they expected me to have made a decision about my assessment.
No. They want me to be Serena's sponsor. Well, not quite her sponsor because we're both underage. Mentor her, they said. Make friends with her. Welcome her to Vayl.
I decided not to mention we'd already met.
7 Making A Decision
"My mentor?" I said. "Him? What's that supposed to mean? I don't need a babysitter."
They all stared at me. My impolite words echoed around the grand room. I was so embarrassed I wanted the floor to swallow me up. What had happened to the Serena who was going to think first and act second?
"Sorry. I mean…. um… it's nice to meet you, Ammartus," I added.
"Likewise, Serena," he said. Although his expression was solemn, his eyes glinted with amusement. "Are you well? You look like you might be a bit hot."
He did not just say that.
I met his gaze, my embarrassment forgotten. Two could play that game. "Are you saying you think I look… hot?"
His eyes widened but he recovered almost immediately. "Actually, yes. I do."
I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't smile.
"Ammartus," said Adelle in an undertone. She gave me an apologetic smile. "Please forgive my son. He's not normally so lacking in tact."
"It's fine," I said truthfully.
There was a short silence.
"Should I…er… explain the terms of the arrangement?" said Petro.
"Yes. Go ahead," said Adelle.
"Serena, you are naturally considered a low-risk candidate for mage-sickness," said Petro. "As such—"
"Wait," I said, interrupting. "What do you mean—naturally considered?"
"You don't know?" said Petro, taken aback.
"Know what?" I said.
Adelle waved a hand, apparently unsurprised. "The other territories always preferred their ignorance. What a shame. If only they would follow our example."
I narrowed my eyes, feeling indignant at her casual tone. I was pretty sure Peric and Savra hadn't chosen to remain in the dark about their illness. "Ignorance is not a particularly tactful word," I said.
Art let out a short incredulous laugh, hastily turning it into a cough when his mother glared at him.
Adelle turned to me, and I braced myself, but she wasn't angry. She had the same thoughtful expression as when she'd examined my bottle of lumien the day before.
"You are correct, of course," she said. "I apologise. Mage-sickness is a cruel disease, Serena. It attacks the coti
dian in childhood, infecting him or her like an invisible parasite. The symptoms only manifest in later life when it is too advanced to be treated.
"Unfortunately, the other territories deny this knowledge. They do not believe what they cannot see. They spend their time attempting to treat the symptoms instead of destroying the source."
"You are nearly of age," added Petro gently. "Your chances of acquiring it now are low."
I tried not to let my fear show on my face.
"How can you be certain I don't already have it?" I said.
"The doors to the city," said Adelle. "They emit a Detection Spell. You would have felt quite unwell had you been infected."
A wave of panic stole the breath from my chest. I had felt sick from that spell. But I don't have mage-sickness. That's impossible.
"Don't look so worried," said Petro, giving my shoulder a reassuring pat. "The Detection Spell's effects are undeniable. You're fine."
Suddenly, I remembered Marty. Did that mean he was infected?
"You said you destroy the source. Does that mean it can be treated? I mean, if the person is young enough?"
"Not always," said Adelle slowly. "Though we do our best. We always do what's best."
I wondered why her voice sounded so strained. If I hadn't seen her admit Marty the day before, I would have guessed the Detection Spell was a way for them to keep out anyone who was infected. But then Petro had told me it wasn't contagious. So how did someone get infected in the first place?
"Your low-risk status is a good thing," said Petro. "It means you can take a room in the tower. As long as you avoid physical contact with magicians, you can still benefit from the spells that make life easier."
"My son will be your guide," said Adelle. "He'll explain how the city works and help you to settle in." She nudged Art with her elbow. "Won't you, Art?"
"I already agreed," he said evenly. "But my agreement is only one half of this arrangement."
I suppressed a smile. I appreciated him making the point that he didn't speak for me.