by Garry Spoor
“Good morning, Kaza,” she called out to the crow.
“Do you often greet the pet before the master?” the mystic asked without looking up from his book.
“I do when the pet greets me before the master,” she answered.
He grinned. “Well said. In that case, good morning, Miss Veller.”
“Good morning, Morgan.”
“I was not expecting you today.”
“And why not?” she asked, taking the empty chair.
Were these the same chairs he had back at the Academy? Back then, when she sat down, her feet never touched the ground, and she often had difficulty getting out of them. These chairs seemed smaller, or had she grown that much? She sank into the overstuffed cushions and stared into the purple fire.
“These are your last days here at the Tower, are they not?” Morgan asked.
“I’ll be returning to the Guild soon if that’s what you mean.”
“Isn’t that what you want?”
“Since when have I ever known what I wanted?”
“I think you’ve always known, but you’ve been either too afraid to go after it or too stubborn.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
“You are as cryptic as ever, old man.”
Morgan laughed. “Not so,” he said. “I’m only stating the obvious. You are either too afraid to understand or too stubborn.”
Kile grinned. “A little of both, I guess.”
“So, are you… what did you do to your hair?” Morgan asked when he finally looked up from his book.
Kile tugged the hood of her robes down over her eyes. “Well, you see, Emara—”
“Say no more.” The mystic held up his hand. “That child will be the ruin of the Tower.”
Kile sat up in her chair. “I wouldn’t say that,” she said defensively. “I think Emara will bring a breath of fresh air to this place. The gods know it could use it.”
“Please, the child has a hard time performing the simplest of charms. How is she supposed to lead the Tower into the new age?”
“I think she’s doing a wonderful job.”
“Can you honestly say that, looking the way you look? I bet she can’t even reverse the spell.”
“She can reverse it… if she wants to.”
“Oh, she can, can she? Then why hasn’t she?”
Kile pulled back her hood and shook out her green hair. “Maybe this is the look I was going for.”
“Oh, I see, well, if that’s the case, I won’t reverse it for you, seeing as you want to look like a head of lettuce.”
“I was going for sprig of broccoli, but thanks anyway.”
Morgan closed the book and set it aside. “So, have you received your orders yet?”
“No, not yet,” Kile answered as she fell back in her chair. “But I don’t suppose it will be much longer now. With the snow melting, I’m sure they’ll want to start the war up again.”
“Unfortunately, I have to agree with you.”
“You know, if the mystics would lend a hand, it would go a long way toward restoring peace.”
“Mystics cannot involve themselves in this war.”
“I don’t see why not. They benefit from the protection of the crown. Those soldiers are dying to keep places like the Tower safe from the Uhyre. I mean, I can understand why they don’t get drawn into the smaller conflict, such as between provinces. That could be disastrous, especially if you have a mystic on each side. But mystics have lent aid to the crown before, during times of war. There were the Mudd Wars and the Balaa conflict.”
“You misunderstand. I did not say we shouldn’t—I said we couldn’t.”
Kile laughed. “Semantics.”
“Perhaps, but you see, getting involved in this war is not as easy as you might believe,” Morgan said as he slowly rose from his chair.
Kile couldn’t help but notice the mystic was looking older and more worn out than usual. She had often thought of mystics as being timeless. They never aged yet always looked ancient, even when they were young. Now it looked as if the years were passing as fast as the days.
Morgan made his way over to the cupboard and, after moving a few books and a stack of papers, retrieved two cups from the shelf before returning to his chair. He set the cups down on the table, which wasn’t there.
They were going to play this game again.
After rolling up his sleeve, the mystic reached into the purple fire and pulled out a silver teapot, which he carefully used to fill each cup. He produced a small flask from somewhere deep within his robes and added a splash of rum to one cup. Holding the flask over the second cup, he glanced at Kile, who shook her head. He shrugged and the flask disappeared back into his robes.
He set the tea aside to let it steep.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But we’re having a little problem here at the Tower.”
Was he really going to blame this on Emara as well? Kile knew for a fact Emara had been trying to get the mystics involved in the war since it started. She believed the Tower had remained isolated for far too long, and they needed to start sharing their knowledge with the rest of the world. She was fighting some opposition with the older mystics, but many of the younger ones agreed with her. The day Emara became the new Grand Magus, there would be a great shakeup at the Tower. Kile hoped she was still around to see it.
She leaned in, ready to voice her opposition.
“The arts are failing us,” Morgan explained.
Okay, that wasn’t what she expected.
“What do you mean, they’re failing? You’ve been casting magic ever since I got here. I haven’t seen any sign of failing magic,” she said as she looked at the green strand of hair hanging in front of her eyes. She quickly brushed it aside.
“You are right. In the Tower, magic still functions as it should. But, outside these walls, it’s a different story.”
“Oh, come on. I’ve seen Hunters use their arts, and they haven’t said anything.”
Of course, that wasn’t exactly true. Didn’t Daniel tell her he was finding it harder to use his skills? He claimed it was simply fatigue, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“Hunters can hardly be compared with mystics,” Morgan said. “For starters, they barely scratch the surface of their spheres. They only learn a few simple spells and rarely pursue it much further than that. Mystics, on the other hand, immerse themselves within their spheres. They need to learn and understand every aspect of them before they can consider themselves masters of their arts. So, it goes without saying, if there is any disturbance with the currents of magic, a mystic would know about it.
“So, what’s causing these… disturbances?”
“Until three months ago, we had no idea, but now, we may have a lead,” Morgan said as he handed her one of the teacups. She took a sip, mostly out of courtesy, before setting it aside. She had never acquired a taste for rosemary tea.
“Well, what changed three months ago?” she asked, and it hit her. “Wait a minute, you’re not blaming this on me, are you?”
The old mystic laughed. “Hardly. Let’s just say you’ve provided us with a rather unique insight.”
“And how did I manage to do that?”
“You see, we’ve been looking at the mystic arts all wrong. It’s always been our belief that magic existed within a higher plane. Its own realm, if you will, and the manipulation of the spheres caused sympathetic ripples within the natural world. Now, we’re not so sure. We believe the arts exist completely within the realm of nature, and its connection with the elements runs much deeper than we originally thought.”
“Of course,” Kile said, although she understood very little of it. “So, how did I lead you there?”
“Don’t you see?”
“Yeah,” she said and shook her head. “No, not really.”
Morgan sighed. “The disturbance in the natural realm, which you
feel may be the same disturbance we’re dealing with.”
“Seriously, so you’re saying I’m not going crazy.” There was a glimmer of hope, after all.
“I’m not actually saying that,” Morgan replied.
And the glimmer faded.
“What I’m saying is, that which is affecting your… sanity may be the same thing that is affecting magic as a whole.”
“So, if magic existed in the realm of nature, would it be possible for someone who is connected to nature in some way… could that someone see it?”
“What? You mean actually see magic?”
“Yeah, I mean, hypothetically speaking.”
“You know, I never thought about that.” He said, tugging on his beard. “I mean, we always considered the arts as being sympathetic energy, but now that there’s a possibility it exists in the natural realm, there may be a physical way to measure it. Do you know what that would mean?”
Yeah, a lifetime of experiments, with her as the test subject.
“It was only an idea,” she said.
“Well, it’s definitely something to consider. We could—”
“Wait a moment,” Kile exclaimed, interrupting Morgan’s train of thought. In the past, she would have let the mystic ramble on with a smile and a nod, but those ramblings often went on for hours and she wasn’t in the mood to be lectured at. “If what you’re saying is true, that the same thing that is affecting me is affecting the magic, and magic works perfectly well within the Tower, wouldn’t it stand to reason it’s not affecting me as long as I’m in the Tower?”
Morgan tugged on his beard again. “That may actually be a possibility.”
“Wonderful, then I’m not cured at all. I’m merely isolated from it.”
“Not necessarily,” he said. “You see, you can’t be cured, because, there really isn’t anything wrong with you.”
“Sorry, come again?”
“There really isn’t anything wrong with you.”
“But the feral episodes…”
“What of them?” he asked. “You seem to be under the assumption, that your… feral episodes… are a result of you losing your identity to the Maligar, but this isn’t the case, or at least, not the way you may think.” He paused for a moment. “You see, Kile, you have two sides. There is the rational side, which resides in the mortal realm, this reality. And there is the irrational side, the feral side, which exists within the natural realm. Two sides working together. When you use your Edge, you are giving control to your feral side. This allows you to… tap into that energy. You can run faster, jump higher, see farther because the feral side of you takes over.”
He looked at her pointedly. “I believe, when you engaged the Maligar, head-on, your rational side shut down. You could not handle what you saw, what you experienced. Think of it as a safety precaution. This allowed your feral side to take over. Like any animal, your reactions were purely instinctual. The problem is, you’ve been suppressing your feral side for too long. Even when it’s released, it’s still tied down.” Drumming his fingers on the table, he continued.
“Over the last three months, I have been trying to strengthen your rational side by exposing you to the Maligar within the safety of the Tower. While Vanessa has been trying to strengthen your feral side by allowing you to… go wild. Only by embracing both sides will you be able to maintain control, regardless of which side takes over.”
“So, you’re saying there isn’t anything wrong with me? That this is normal?”
“For you, yes.”
That was about as good as she could hope for.
“I think what my colleague is trying to say is that you are not going insane—you never were.”
Kile turned in her chair to see a woman standing behind her. She was tall and slim, draped in the yellow robes of a scholar. Her silver-white hair flowed freely over her shoulders, and pale blue eyes were set within a delicate face. A small white bird, which was perched on the woman’s hand, flew across the room to land on Kile’s shoulder. Vesper quickly chattered his displeasure about Seki invading his territory. Kile ignored the yarrow’s complaints. These were the first straight answers she had gotten in the last three months, or answers she could understand.
“So, I’m completely sane. I’m all right.”
Vanessa smiled. “As I’ve said, there was never anything wrong with you to begin with. You are the product of your Edge, nothing more.”
“Product of my Edge?”
“Yes, your feral side grows with the animals you connect with. As they take away something from you, you take away something from them.”
-Well, that would explain why you’re so pigheaded sometimes.-
Kile looked up to where Kaza was still watching them. The crow was pacing back and forth along the top of the bookshelf.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked him.
-You spend so much time around that ill-mannered horse of yours, some of him was bound to rub off.-
“Is that true?” Kile asked, turning to Vanessa.
“Is what true?”
She kept forgetting, no one else could understand the crow, at least none of the other vir.
“Kaza said, that since I spent so much time around Grim, I’ve taken on some of his… traits.”
“Grim?”
“Her horse,” Morgan explained. “The foul-tempered mountain pony that caused so much trouble at the Academy. I’m sure you recall the incident during your second year there when he chased the horse master through the dining hall and up a tree.”
“Oh, yes, I remember that. So, he’s your horse.”
“He really isn’t that bad,” Kile said, but trying to downplay Grim’s bad behavior wasn’t easy.
Vanessa smiled. “That would explain a lot.”
“Such as?” she asked.
“Mountain ponies are known for their strong will and bad disposition. That’s why they’ve never made very good mounts. If it’s true that you’ve been connecting with a mountain pony over a long period of time, it would explain your behavior when you go feral.”
“But I’ve been with Vesper longer than I’ve been with Grim.”
“And I’m sure you have taken on some of his traits as well, but there are a few things you must understand. First off, mountain ponies have a more dominant personality, more so than a yarrow, and second, each time you’ve gone feral, you were confronted with the Maligar. Your life was in danger, or at least you perceived your life was in danger. If the danger had not been present, it is quite possible you wouldn’t have been so… ill-tempered.”
What would Grim think if he knew that every time she went feral, she was, in some way, channeling him? She was almost positive the mountain pony would be pleased.
“So, what can I do about it?” she asked.
“There is nothing you can do because there is nothing that needs to be done,” Vanessa said.
“You see, Kile, this is what I meant by your Edge changing you,” Morgan explained. “Most Hunters, as they become familiar with their Edges, may learn new skills within their given sphere. It’s a matter of teaching them how to control these new skills. You, on the other hand, are unique. We don’t know what will happen as your Edge grows. You once told me you couldn’t see your Edge going any further than communicating with animals, but look at you now. When you use your Edge, your physical abilities have improved to the point where they are comparable to the natural world. You have the eyes of a hawk, the nose of a yarrow, and the ears of a bat. You can run as fast as a deer and probably jump as far as a rabbit.”
-And you have the ill manners of a mountain pony,- Kaza added.
Kile glared at him.
“The point is, your Edge is changing, and we don’t know where or when it will stop,” Morgan continued. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“But didn’t you once tell me the Alva possessed theses same skills.”
“Although it is true, the Alva did possess simila
r skills, I do not believe what they experienced is what you are experiencing. You are Orceen, and we don’t know enough about the Orceen to know what to expect. The Orceen taught the Alva, that much we can be sure of, but how much the Alva learned from the Orceen, we simply don’t know. How much more the Orceen had to teach, we don’t know that either. Unfortunately, you still remain a mystery.”
Kile slumped back in her chair. “At least I haven’t grown long ears and a tail.”
“I’m afraid this is as far as we can go,” Morgan told her. “Without knowing more of the Orceen, we’re kind of at a standstill.”
Vanessa stepped forward and placed her hand on Kile’s shoulder. “I believe you know enough so you can maintain control, no matter what happens,” she said. “You’ve learned to embrace your feral side, and that’s a start.”
“So, what are your plans now?” Morgan asked.
“I suppose, if I can’t learn anything more here, I’ll have to learn it out there,” she answered.
“You can remain at the Tower for as long as you need.”
“Thanks, Morgan, but as you said, there’s nothing more for me here. I should report to the Guild, anyway.”
“If anything new comes up, anything at all, you know where you can find us.”
“What more could possibly happen?” she asked as she got up from her chair. Seki took off from Kile’s shoulder and returned to Vanessa, which Vesper was quite happy about. He never liked sharing Kile’s shoulders with anyone.
“Look, Kile, I’ll change your hair back to its original color, if you want,” Morgan offered.
She thought about it for a moment. It would be one less thing to worry about.
“No, that’s all right,” she said. “Emara will do it.”
Vanessa stepped back to reexamine Kile. “You mean that wasn’t by choice?”
Kile shrugged. “Let’s just say we were trying something different.”
“You have a lot of faith in Miss Lon,” Morgan remarked.
“I think she needs a little time,” Kile said. “She’s taking on a lot of responsibilities. The whole Grand Magus thing is a bit overwhelming. I know I couldn’t do it.”
“But you are not destined to be the next Grand Magus—she is.”