Yesterday's Spacemage

by Timothy Ellis

  Yesterday's Spacemage

  By Timothy Ellis

  Copyright © 2017, 2018 by Timothy Ellis

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and events are fictional and have no relationship to any real person, place or event. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely co-incidental.

  The author is Australian. In Australia, we colour things slightly differently, so you may notice some of the spelling is different. Please don't be alarmed.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contents

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Twenty Four

  Twenty Five

  Twenty Six

  Twenty Seven

  Twenty Eight

  Twenty Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty One

  Thirty Two

  Thirty Three

  Thirty Four.

  Thirty Five

  Thirty Six

  Thirty Seven

  Thirty Eight

  Thirty Nine

  Forty

  Forty One

  Forty Two

  Forty Three

  Forty Four

  Forty Five

  Forty Six

  Forty Seven

  Forty Eight

  Forty Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty One

  Fifty Two

  Fifty Three

  Fifty Four

  Fifty Five

  Fifty Six

  Fifty Seven

  Fifty Eight

  Fifty Nine

  Sixty

  Acknowledgements

  A Message to my Readers

  Also by Timothy Ellis

  One

  When you're sixteen years old, and it’s the most important day of your life, the one thing you are not prepared for is dying.

  I mean, why would you be? Who would even see it coming? Not me.

  I'd been waiting for this day for two long years. More like all my life, but officially two years. At the age of fourteen, all boys are put through a two year apprenticeship, aimed at finding out what they have an aptitude for, if the Master's like them enough to want to spend more years training them, and what each boy actually likes, and wants to do. You spend a set time with each, and you do what they tell you to do. Liking it isn’t part of the tasks, but that is what it's supposed to reveal. Among other things.

  On your sixteenth birthday, each boy gets to choose. Which is why it's called the Day of Choice.

  Everyone in the family dresses up, and at exactly midday, meet with friends and their families at the town hall. There the Masters gather, cast their evaluations into the choice box, from which the Mayor draws each one, and announces it.

  The choice box is divided up into slots, each one for a life choice, and specifically ordered, so each announcement is always drawn in the same order, from lowest to highest. The assumption is a boy destined for a higher calling, will always get a yes to each of the lower ones. On this basis, the one thing every boy dreads is four no's in a row, because at that point, everything stops.

  So one of two things happens normally. The boy waits until he gets four no's, and makes a choice from the yes's. Or he waits for all of them to be announced, suffering dread with each no, and still having reached the end, chooses what he really wants to do. Of course, we all hope for the latter. The majority though, suffer from limited choice.

  On some days, more than one boy goes through this. And dare I call it an ordeal, because this is your whole future on the line here. In this case, you go in order of birth time, so whoever goes last has the longest to wait.

  And believe me, the waiting is a killer! Fortunately, today there's only me.

  You don’t sleep the night before. You can't eat the morning meal. Your mouth goes dry no matter how much you drink. And drinking too much has side effects. Your mother fusses over your clothes, and you feel like puking. You can't concentrate, and become clumsy. So we get told, and so it was.

  The walk to the town hall at least eases the physical symptoms, but this is your future about to be decided. And here's the irony.

  It's decided by the Masters, in spite of the choice being made by the boy. Because the Masters are the ones who make the offers. No offer, no choice. And it does happen sometimes. You get a boy who's not really capable of doing anything right, or one with a really bad attitude, or who is just plain mean or even evil, and no-one wants to train them. These boys leave the town, and rarely ever come back.

  I had no worries on this count though. I'm serious and withdrawn until you get to know me, and when you do, you get the full force of my sense of humour. This isn’t necessarily a good thing, since a very serious Master hates having a wisecracking boy to train, but all the same, I don’t consider myself a wisecracker. I'm not even sure I'm funny, although people do laugh. But I digress.

  Arriving at the town hall means meeting and greeting everyone, thankfully informally. A quick hand shake with those offering hands, nods to others, and the inevitable hugs from elderly female relatives.

  At the appointed hour, you stand in the center of the Master's circle, facing the Mayor, and they all decide your fate. While making you think it's actually your choice.

  So there I stood.

  Mother gives me a smile. Father is looking serious to hide his nervousness. The sisters are waiting for me to be left with options they can laugh at.

  The midday bells ring out. No-one moves. There is no sound. Until after the twelfth bell.

  The Mayor takes the box around the circle, each evaluation is slotted in, and he comes back around to his place, and faces me.

  "Young Thorn," he says, supposedly to me, but its theater for everyone. "Are you ready to make your choice?"

  "I am," I croaked, causing my sisters to laugh, before they were quickly silenced by many looks.

  "Let us begin."

  The first ones are always farming. Basic farm hand, animal farmer, crop farmer, hunter, mechanic.

  Each evaluation comes out deliberately, and one by one, is flourished, and read out. There is no hurry, only a slow presentation. The timing for the whole ceremony, never varies by more than a minute or two.

  Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. No surprise there. Farming work is a no brainer, animals like me, and I can get the job done. Bored out of my brain, but doable.

  The next ones are all town related. General maintenance, builder, utilities, administration, town constables. Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. Being a constable was interesting, but I’d hate it. The rest was more boredom.

  After this, you get introduced to the military, with a period of training first. And this is where most boys bomb out. If they can't get fit enough, won't take commands, won't take serious discipline imposed on them, or simply can't handle being a soldier; well these get the first no. The problem is, this no is quickly followed by four more, regardless of how you actually did in them. I did manage to make it in the fitness department, just. And the rest of it was a matter of figuring out the smart way of d
oing it, so I wasn’t expecting a no here. Yes.

  Training is followed by administration, mechanicals, weapons, and tactics. And my personal favourite, wargames, which you only get into if you're good at tactics. Admin bores me, but I can get the job done. I'm not all that mechanical minded, but like farming, I can do basic repairs, and while under threat of live fire. I was most disappointed to find I wasn’t all that good with weapons. But in tactics I excelled, allowing me to win more often than I lost, simply by out-thinking the opponent. Wargames though. Introduce some strategy to tactics, and I was almost unbeatable.

  The first yes had me breathing again, not having been aware I'd stopped. And it was followed by yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. The weapons yes was a surprise, I have to admit it. Presumably I was better than I thought I was, or had beaten the averages some way.

  At this point, I started noting some surprised looks. People who should have known me better, wondering how I'd managed to get so far.

  And the truth is, those who get past training, usually get their first no's here. Those who get a yes on training, but no's in all the rest, still make good foot soldiers, and usually choose to be. Those with a yes or two in the next four, will choose the one they liked the most. It being very rare for someone who yes's on training, to actually choose something before. The Masters have a lot to do with this. We get told if we are soldier material or not, and so we mostly know if the training is going to be a yes or no. The only reason you get the yes, without any other yes's, is because they still want you to be a soldier. Sometimes there is potential there, which many years later, becomes a valuable skill, and the Masters can recognize such a thing in a trainee, even if they're crap at normal military stuff. A lot of good solid sergeants are made this way.

  And now we come to the big ones. Every boy is tested for magical ability. You either have it, or you don’t. If you didn't, you were sent back for more military training. If you did, the first yes is guaranteed. If you actually like magic, this is what you've been waiting for.

  Yes. Of course I knew this, but it shocked everyone except my closest family.

  Having demonstrated magical ability, you receive training in the healing arts, the making arts, the movement arts, and lastly, Battle Magic. I found I could certainly heal, could make something small just by thinking it, could move small objects from place to place, or make them disappear completely, and once, even moved myself a short distance.

  But Battle Magic is something else again, using parts of all of them, and going way beyond. I surprised my Master by forming an effective shield against both physical and magical attack, almost as soon as being instructed how.

  Yes, yes, yes. No real surprise, I'd demonstrated enough to show I could become good at any of them, given enough time.

  The Mayor hesitated, uncertainty on his face, his eyes seeking the Magicians approval to read the last one. The Battle Mage reluctantly nodded. The crowd became puzzled, and so was I.

  I was expecting a no. Although I was good at what they'd taught me, I'd lost my temper with another student once, and force punched him clear over the compound wall. It showed I could put a lot more force in my punch than even I knew I could, but he'd needed a healer, and a week in bed. I'd spent two days using my 'punch' to demolish an old wall in the town, as a way of punishing my temper. I’d been convinced right then, I'd never be accepted as a Battle Mage.

  So I didn’t know how to interpret the tension now evident in the Masters. The Mayor looked back at me.

  "Young Thorn. Only a dozen times before has any boy made it to this point without a no along the way. Only once before, and never in our town, has a boy not received a no. Most magicians have a skill in one direction only. Those who can do more, tend to be strong in one, and weak in the others, so they're only given a yes for the one they're strong in. Good Battle Mages usually have no's among the mundane work, simply because magic is wasted on the mundane, and the mundane task cannot hold a mage's focus, so the boy does badly, without knowing why. A Mage who is good at healing, making, and moving, usually fails at tactics and strategy, so has already had several mundane no's, even though they may now get four yes, but a final no. This happens rarely, and the boy gets to choose where to specialize. Do you wish to specialize in one of these three branches of magic, young Thorn?"

  Everyone looked at him, dumbfounded. I'd never heard of someone being asked to choose before the last evaluation was given. There was a slight look of desperation on his face now, and sweat began dripping down his cheek.

  I had no understanding of what was going on, and no-one else appeared to either. Except the Mages now all looked resigned, and were quickly followed by the military, as understanding caught up. I wish I knew what they obviously did.

  Everyone looked from him to me.

  "You want me to choose now?" I stammered.

  "Yes lad."

  "Why?"

  "Because every choice has consequences, even when you have no idea of them. You have not had a no. If we don't hear the last evaluation, you will become the second ever to receive all yes, which will mark you for greatness."

  "But will limit me to only one branch of magic."

  "Yes. Perhaps this is not an issue for you?"

  He sounded hopeful. I sighed. My first no. But it was mine, not theirs, and it didn’t count. I wanted to be a Battle Mage.

  "I have to know," I responded, looking him in the eye.

  "So be it, young Thorn. You have chosen."

  This was definitely odd. Being told you'd chosen was a formality, after you made a formal choice. I hadn't reached that stage yet, even though I'd indicated I wanted to be able to choose to be a Battle Mage.

  He swept a look around the room, and I followed his eyes where I could. No-one had any idea what was going on it seemed. His eyes lingered by the door, on a hooded figure I hadn't known was standing there. There was no visible face. The hood nodded.

  The Mayor plucked out the last evaluation, looked at it, made brief eye contact with the Battle Mage, and opened his mouth.

  "Yes."

  The room went crazy, and so I missed the entrance of the second hooded man. Both of them moved to the circle of Masters, and to my alarm, they all rose, and backed away, pulling their chairs with them. The crowd was forced to back away behind them, jubilation turning to alarm.

  I was left standing to face the two hooded men.

  "Your name is Thorn," said the shorter man.

  "You will bend your knee, and swear allegiance to the great King above all," said the slightly taller, without waiting for my answer to the first question.

  "What?" I asked, not understanding anything.

  "Jump away and run," said the voice of the Battle Mage in my head. "Go now."

  "You chose to be a Battle Mage," said short. "You are only the second boy to receive all yes. Do you know who the first was?"

  "How would I?"

  "Your king was the first," said tall. "You will swear allegiance to him now. He will be your master from now on."

  "What?" I said. "I chose to be a Battle Mage for this town. I don’t know this king you speak of."

  "He knows you. From the moment you showed magical talent in more than one of the arts, he has been watching you."

  "Spying on me?"

  "A king does not spy. He watches. And you better start showing some respect lad, or else."

  I couldn't help it. My temper was fraying rapidly. Nothing had prepared me for this sort of confrontation. Maybe not quite true. I'd been bullied before, and found I hated bullies. They pushed a button I couldn’t stop being pressed. It was why I’d expected the last to be no. And here I was, having that button pressed again.

  "Or else what?"

  "You defy your king?"

  Short sounded outraged.

  "What?" I asked. "I don’t know what's going on here."

  "Kneel or die," yelled Short. "Do it now."

  My eyes went to the town Battle Mage. He looked angry, but his stance was deliberat
ely open. It was obvious he was showing he was not about to use any magic to help me, in case he brought the wrath of the king down on the town.

  I raised my eyebrows in his direction. He nodded.

  But I wasn’t given time to summon the energy to jump myself away. Masters could move themselves in seconds. I couldn’t.

  Tall threw his arm forward, and lightning surged at me. I responded with a shield, and was immediately surrounded by it. But it wasn’t powerful enough, so I reached down inside me as I’d been taught, and summoned forth raw power to boost my shielding. I took the blow without flinching, and stood there, feet planted solidly.

  "What?" roared Short.

  And he sent a white ball at me.

  I deflected it with a thought. Behind the magic, I knew I couldn’t hold very long, and began on the jump. Shields are easy, just call it into being, and it's there. Jumps require a destination you know well. You needed to focus on the place, check it for a clear place to move to, lest you jump into a solid object, or worse a person, and then move yourself. Only I’d never done this behind a shield before.

  "Use our magic Thorn," said the Battle Mage in my head. "Jump as far away as you can."

  I could feel the flow of energy to me, reinforcing my shield as the two hooded mages seemed to throw everything they had at me. With a thought, I used the shield as a way of using the energy being thrown at me, and as my shield grew stronger, I siphoned enough out of it to power my jump.

  Both attacking mages now had their hoods back, and their faces revealed a combination of surprise and horror.

  The jump to a secluded glade I knew of formed in my mind, it was empty, and I prepared to move myself.

  Things happened at once.

  My mother yelled out my name, causing me to look in her direction, breaking my concentration.

  The Mages threw every last method of attack they knew at me.

  A man wearing a crown on his head appeared beside them, and threw the largest white ball I’d ever seen into my shields.

  I instructed myself to jump.

  Everything went white.

  Two

  They told me I was fished out of the water by a boat's crew, after having popped to the surface almost in front of them. I was out cold, and they couldn’t revive me.