by D. H. Aire
Smiling, Se’and nodded her vote of assent to that, “My Sire bound us to you and we intend to stay bound. Your life is ours to guard and protect; although, there are times when you could vex the clouds out of the sky!”
She threw her gathered clothes at him, then grabbed out her short sword and turned with it to begin the forms. The man calling himself Jeo, a man lost in a land filled with magic and the strangest of customs, a man far from home, settled himself to rest.
Fri’il pulled herself across him and kissed his cheek, grinning, “Since you have nowhere else to be at the moment, would making love to me be so bad?”
“Not now,” he muttered, but he held her tenderly nonetheless, then began to drift asleep.
The staff suddenly flared into brilliant light as Jeo abruptly sat bolt upright with a cry. Eyes wide, he stared elsewhere as the computer staff reported, :Emergency signal received. Signal strength minimal. Boosting is required.:
He could faintly feel his distant friend Balfour’s presence. “Boost.”
:Rapport level required –– level eight.:
“Augment,” he muttered back in a rasp. The staff flared brighter still and George collapsed without a sound as his two bodyguard wives hurriedly stared at each other. “Report situation status.”
Se’and, sword still in hand as she completed the last of her daily forms, grabbed up the nearest dagger with her other hand and tossed it to Fri’il, who hurriedly knelt protectively beside their Lord.
Master Stenh had called for a healer. Ofran had brought along his nephew Balfour, who had taken one look at the lad and paled. He recognized what he was seeing as the youth convulsed, his mind reeling as all his senses cried out; his sensitivity extended far beyond anything he had every known before.
Every sound roared like a tornado through his hearing. Every smell was an assault, every sight a too brilliant color stabbing his mind. Ofran demanded to know what had happened to the lad.
Stenh muttered, “We gave him his Final Test for Apprenticeship.”
The old healer frowned, then whispered a spell chant. The sound of it shrieked through Aaprin’s eyes. The magery it raised sent shivers up and down his spine. Balfour quickly silenced him and the lad gentled ever so subtly.
Ofran looked at him worriedly. “You know what this is?”
“I’ve heard of it, yes.”
Master Stenh glared at him, “Then heal him with the proper spell!”
Balfour shook his head, “You don’t understand… His problem has to do with the sudden onset of human gifts, not elvin. Magery cannot help him.”
“Ofran, why have you brought this raving lunatic here?! There is no such thing as human ‘gifts.’ Humans have no magic! How can they without souls?”
The healer swallowed and glanced from Balfour to the Master. “I’m afraid we all must revise our assumptions a bit.”
“Bah!”
Aaprin convulsed, yet again, in a terrifying seizure. Balfour gentled Aaprin’s head to prevent him knocking himself permanently senseless. Balfour needed help— help from a source that knew this problem far better than he did. Closing his eyes, never even thinking of a spell, Balfour reached out to his newly arrived companion Tiers away.
Master Stenh had been pacing and stopped in mid-stride. His foot dangled above the ground, then found himself swiveling to face Ofran and a faintly glowing man, who had not been there before, yet stood in Balfour’s place.
A glowing staff lay in his hands, the man blinked, then glanced from side to side. “Balfour, what are you doing?”
Me’oh hurried to his side and bowed, “Lord Je’orj, all is well.”
Balfour’s voice seemed to issue from the image’s mouth.
“I was having difficulty convincing Master Stenh, here, of human magic... One of his apprentices is suffering from Reaction Sickness.”
The image’s eyes seemed to widen, “I take it you’ve shielded and healed any scarred pathways.”
“It took me hours.”
“Staff, probe,” the image muttered, turning to face the apprentice on the pallet. The image seemed to be hearing something beyond Stenh’s ken, while ignoring everything else in the room except the boy. He knelt and took the lad’s hand.
Aaprin blearily opened his eyes wide and gazed at the glowing figure beside him. “You have no need to be afraid, lad,” he said, comfortingly. “Your gift has simply awoken. For some the reaction is so slight it goes unnoticed, but others, like you, draw much in their first use. Untrained and undiagnosed Reaction Sickness can be very serious –– but Balfour was here for you. You’re going to be just fine. Now, sleep and have the most pleasant of dreams until I come to you... What’s one more apprentice anyway, now that Balfour, here, is so skilled he can do this to me.”
Aaprin looked a bit confused, but found his eyelids drooping and quickly fell asleep.
The image of the human superimposed upon the elfblooded healer turned back toward Master Stenh. “Balfour must feel I am going to need your support. Very well then, know this: I am not here by magic. This is a technological wonder, but not impossible to individuals such as Balfour, myself,” and casting a glance back at the lad, “or him, one day.”
“I, uh, don’t understand.”
The image frowned, “Your Highmage Alrex and I have an appointment. He brought me into this world— and he, by all you hold holy, is going to send me back!”
Stenh and Ofran gaped, while Me’oh looked crestfallen at the image before them. “He brought you through the Gate,” Stenh seemed to whisper.
“And through it I intend to return home, but he tells me that I’ve a few small tasks to perform first.”
Ofran trembled, “He’s been in communication with you?”
“My guardian angel, as it were. But I’m here now, and growing exceedingly tired of playing Follow-the-Leader.”
“What has he asked you to do?” Stenh heard himself ask.
The image frowned, clutching his staff as if it could give him more than mere physical support. “He’s told that I must, I quote: ‘pass on my skills and knowledge,’ then I will be granted the ability to go home whenever I wish.” His hand shook ever so slightly, “The strain on both of us is beginning to wear thin.” He looked at Me’oh, “Take him home and see that he stays in bed. The lad is out of danger. We’re going to suffer Reaction headaches from this escapade, remind him to prepare ahead, next time, before attempting something like this.”
“I shall, most assuredly, M’lord.”
The image vanished and Balfour fell to his knees. Me’oh helped seat him in the closest infirmary chair, while Ofran said to his dazed nephew, “So, that was the Master you found for yourself.”
Taking a number of deep breaths, Balfour nodded and glanced at Master Stenh, who looked deeply troubled. The Master shivered, “Alrex what have you done?”
Master Donnialt stared out his window into the night.
Blue flame haunted him. “Oh, Aaprin, what have you done?” he muttered, disheartened.
There came a rapping at his door, “Enter.”
Grendel paused upon letting himself into the room, “I thought you might be awake.”
“Master Ofran looked in on me just before he went to check on the lad. He gave me something to help me sleep, but—” he trailed off, shrugging. “What’s the point, when you do not wish to sleep?”
Grendel nodded, “I remember when I was but an apprentice. This must be difficult. It took me some time, but I finally kenned to what he did.”
Donnialt tried not to be shaken by Grendel’s words. He could not know the truth. Donnialt shivered, the truth was too dangerous to admit. Few even had the experience to recognize it. He grimaced, they had been so careful to weed such talent out.
Grendel gently coughed, which pulled back the older Master’s attention. “Excuse me, my friend. I seem to be losing my train of thought.”
“I was simply telling you that I realize that Aaprin did surprisingly more than effect a variation o
n the ‘Flame and Candle’ –– he created a new spell altogether.” Donnialt suddenly realized he had been holding his breath. By the First Guardian, perhaps Grendel had not realized the truth! Aaprin might still have a chance!
“I suppose it should have come as no great shock, considering the fact that traditional spells and their variations were so difficult for him to effect, while he understood the theories so well... Do you suppose the Northern Tower would be the best place for him?”
Frowning, Donnialt glanced back out the window catching a glimpse of a shooting star, an omen. “The Northern Tower, Master Tepper is there; perhaps he could see to the necessary training.” He deliberately turned to face Grendel bemusedly, as if he were truly considering such a thing. “But there are equally fine places where his gift can be utilized without placing him under the Empress’s Legions.”
Grendel shrugged innocently, “With Gwire fallen, the Northern Tower needs every mage ability.”
“True, though, Aaprin is only a child,” he muttered, sick with the knowledge that Grendel most assuredly felt that Aaprin could die quietly and keep the Hall’s shames from ever becoming known.
Nodding, Grendel smiled, “True, but we may be required to send two even younger apprentices, I fear, to the Border.”
Donnialt grimly sat down in his chair beside his desk.
“Then you have heard the rumors, too?”
Grendel hesitated before answering that double edged question. “You mean the rumor that Gwire now wields Magery against what forces we have in the North?”
Donnialt simply looked at him.
“Honestly, I fear it may be worse. Even Faeryn mages who play at being our equal are not such a threat to our way.”
Donnialt trembled. “Leave me now, I, uh, grow tired.”
“You will consider sending a few of our apprentices to the Northlands?”
“I will give it every consideration,” Donnialt replied forlornly, meeting Grendel’s piercing gaze.
Grendel smiled faintly, “Very well.” His gaze suddenly bright, he said goodnight and left.
Donnialt clasped his hands, “Revit, Terus, what have you done? I cannot even hide the truth from myself any longer.”
“Je’orj?” Se’and whispered. “Are you all right?”
He swallowed uneasily, trying to remember. There was a data dump from Staff, with it came instant memory. He cursed long and loud, “Balfour! What are you trying to do to me?”
Fri’il dressed as apprentice lad once more, sponged his forehead. “Are you all right?”
“Of course, I am,” he replied, catching her hand. “He just surprised me... Staff, you shouldn’t have mentioned that to him...”
The Staff sparkled as Se’and glanced back and forth in concern. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, no need to worry... Balfour has just decided to rush me into Alrex’s plan for me, whatever it is.”
Se’and looked relieved; although, Fri’il was not certain she understood any of what he was talking about. “He’s not having delusions, is he?”
With a grin, Se’and replied, “No, worse, the world is conspiring to make us happy— and him miserable.”
Fri’il nodded wryly, “Well, that’s all right, then.”
Je’orj muttered something and the staff sparkled back.
Se’and removed her clothes and crawled into bed, knowing that Je’orj always accepted body warmth after one of his exhausting episodes, which dropped his temperature precipitously.
Fri’il quickly checked the door and window to make certain they were secure blew out the candles and gleefully disrobed. Staff’s now wan light bathed the room in softly comforting warmth, revealing boy’s clothing strewn behind Fri’il as she hopped into bed and burrowed under the covers.
George opened his eyes faintly as the two sources of warmth snuggled against him. Tears filled his eyes, ‘I have to leave this place, Staff. We don’t belong here.’
:I know, George,: came the reply, no comfort at all.
Problem Apprentices
4
Carwina had just opened the drapes as she heard the door creak open. She turned and smiled faintly, “Good morning, Master Stenh.” He gazed from the still magery-masked form on the bed to her. “Carwina, I need to speak with your father.”
She frowned, “Master Ofran grants that he spoke, but he says that it is not a wakeful or even aware state.”
Grimacing, Stenh shook his head, “Please, leave the two of us alone.”
Carwina hesitated, then distrustfully said, “You do not look well, Master. I think it best that I do not leave you alone.”
A faint voice croaked, “Go, child... Leave us.”
Eyes wide, she rushed forward, to find Master Stenh forestalling her. “Ask no questions and tell no one of this. Now leave and see that we are not disturbed.”
“Father,” she whispered.
“Speech diff-icult… Carwina… Leave us.”
Astonished, not knowing what to believe or even think about this, she left. She wiped tears, she had not even noticed, from her cheeks as the posted guard turned to look at her somberly. She let him think what he would with only one last backward glance.
Dragging a chair close to the bed, Stenh sat beside his old friend then asked harshly, “What do you think you are doing?”
“Guild must recognize him,” Alrex rasped strongly. “My choice… Seat… Everything.”
Astonished, Stenh choked and coughed, “It’s impossible. He’s Human! Alrex! Humans are not even supposed to be able to even wield magic!”
“His Humanity is –– our last hope… We must gain back what, what we lost –– or we shall fail at long last.”
Tears streaked his face as he took the stricken Highmage’s hand, “Alrex! I can’t do this! It goes against everything we know and hold true!”
The energies swirled with the protective web; a compulsion rose as a mist from its depths and struck Stenh. He rocked back as it echoed its command through his mind: “Find him! Bring him before the Guild! Support his Candidacy! Do what you must or the Empire and all the Human Lands will fall to the Dark One!”
Stenh groaned and slumped forward, barely conscious.
Rexil woke Revit and Terus long after all the other apprentices their age had risen and gone to breakfast.
The lads were so sluggish that after Rexil had helped them strip off their long sleeper’s jerkin, he shoved them into the cold water bathing pool. They awoke suddenly, looking more surprised at finding themselves there at all, rather than upset at the treatment. They instantly asked him how Aaprin was this morning.
Rexil stared at them a moment, disconcertingly. “Okay, I know he’s played hound to the pair of you, but what’s this about? Why so interested?”
Terus stood up imperiously in the water and demanded, “How is he?”
Rexil shrugged, “Why should I tell you?”
Revit caught Rexil’s foot at the lip of the bathing pool and yanked. The older apprentice fell as Terus hurriedly climbed out of the pool to stand over him. “Now, how is he?”
Startled and dazed, Rexil stared up at the naked elfblooded boy who looked angry enough to kill him.
“I’m fine,” replied Aaprin from the doorway. “So go cover yourself with that towel or go back to bathing— but don’t just stand there, Terus!”
“Aaprin!” the boys chorused in delight and slightly chagrined.
“Uh, Rexil slipped,” Revit added. “Terus was just about to help him up.”
Terus dutifully helped the wide-eyed Rexil to his feet, then acquired a towel to dry himself with. Aaprin shook his head and approached Rexil. “You can go. I will take responsibility for them.”
Rexil patted his arm, glancing back at the younger apprentices, “I’ll just go and put them on report is what I’ll do.”
Aaprin suddenly had a solid grip on Rexil’s arm. “Do that. I am sure that Master Donnialt will be impressed by how well you have handled this assignment.”
<
br /> Rexil glared back at him, shrugging, “Fine, they likely set this all up to get me good.” He was somewhat hasty in his departure.
Sighing, Aaprin turned to glare at the two boys, then bitterly said, “You two have gone too far.”
Revit had been climbing out of the pool, then uncomfortably completed the task as Aaprin grabbed his ear and tugged him toward the staring Terus, who had been folding over the edge of the towel about his middle. “Uh, what are you talking about?”
Aaprin momentarily closed his eyes and called up the memory of blue flame. There was a flickering of blue tinged flame suddenly across the entry. Revit could feel the raising of the ward behind him and shivered as Terus gaped, uncomfortable with the strong sense of utter privacy the warding provided.
“The two of you interfered with my test,” Aaprin muttered, taking a hold of Terus’s left ear, in turn.
The lad yipped as Revit snapped a hurried response. “It wasn’t fair in the first place. Look what you can do! The Bloody Spells were what always stymied you!”
“They are just stupid twitterings!” Terus added hastily.
Aaprin let them both go, muttering dishearteningly, “For the three of us they are— but they work for everyone else here just as all the theory I’ve studied says they should... This isn’t magery according to the Faeryn Heresy, either, is it? Now, I want to know how long the both of you have been ‘playing’ at affecting your spells?”
Revit and Terus rubbed their ears and mumbled, “That hurt, Aaprin.”
“Better that than the punishment the Masters might, otherwise, afford you.”
“Uh, yeah,” grumbled Terus with an unhappy glance at Revit.
The other boy nodded, then grabbed some soap and jumped into the warm water bath. When he came up for air, he grinned to Terus. “No reason we can’t play with that warding blocking everyone else out!”
“Hey, you’re right!” Terus leapt in, while Aaprin tried to look angry.
He shook his head, glancing at the barrier. It flickered, but otherwise seemed strong. The boys began splashing at each other. Sighing, he took off his clothes, grasping some soap and shouted at them, “Quit that, now wash your hair and don’t forget to wash behind your ears!”