by C. G. Garcia
Aidric moved forward and knelt down at her bedside, and to her alarm, he gently took her right hand in his. She started to pull away, but he squeezed her hand more firmly and she instinctually froze. He then held out his free hand, palm up, and as her eyes darted from their joined hands to his other, a flash of light suddenly appeared in its center. When the flash cleared, a small, golden globe of pulsating light rested within the palm of his hand. Allison could only stare at the ball of light in mute shock.
“Trust me when I say I am a mage—as you are as well.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Allison felt her entire body go rigid as she slowly lifted her eyes to Aidric’s face.
“W-What?” she stammered in disbelief, her mind still reeling from the shock of the glowing orb he had produced from thin air.
“Whether you realize it or not, you are mageborn, Allison, with the potential of becoming a very powerful adept-mage,” Aidric said. The orb in his hand abruptly disappeared, and he lowered it to cover the hand he was already clasping. “We all believe you to be the mage named in the prophecy I spoke of earlier, one known as the Golden Mage. That is the reason for our fear. You hold much magical potential within you that we cannot even begin to guess how much you are capable of doing. I am the most powerful mage in the kingdom, perhaps in all of Seni’s World, and you easily blasted through my strongest shields and laid me flat with the power of a single mind-scream.”
Allison jerked her hand out of his grasp, her head shaking vigorously in denial. “I didn’t—I can’t—” she protested weakly, her stomach lurching as if she was about to become ill. “It isn’t possible—”
“But it is, milady,” Aidric said firmly. “There is no mistaking the power you have within your hands. Any fool with the slightest inkling of mage potential could plainly see your potential.”
“You don’t understand,” Allison said in agitation. “I can’t be a mage. Mages are only fantasy where I come from. No one there has the ability to perform real magic that isn’t only clever illusion, least of all me. Sure, we have people who claim to be what we call in my language ‘psychics’ and ‘telekinetics’ who are able to predict the future, read minds, or levitate objects with the power of their minds, but those kinds of paranormal abilities have never been proven to actually exist. Now you’re telling me that I can suddenly work magic! Real magic! It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Indeed it doesn’t,” Aidric mused. “I have never known someone to suddenly manifest mage abilities without being born with the ability in the first place. Yet, if you are the Golden Mage as we believe, then anything is possible.”
“What made you even think that I’m the one in your prophecy in the first place?”
“The hue of your hair.”
“My hair?” Allison said in surprise, raising a hand to finger it in confusion. “What’s wrong with the color of my hair?”
“Your hair is golden,” Aidric explained. “It’s a feature described specifically in the Prophecy of the Golden Mage. In all of the lands I have traveled across throughout Seni’s World, I have never seen anyone with hair that is golden.”
Allison’s brow creased in bewilderment as she took in his words. He hasn’t ever seen anyone with blonde hair? How could he not? Unless—
She swallowed hard against the lump of new fear that suddenly formed in her throat at the direction her thoughts were leading. It was as if a bolt of lightning had suddenly jarred her awake from her nightmare—into the clutches of another even more terrifying than the first because this one wasn’t a dream at all.
“I’m not on Earth any longer, am I?” Allison asked in a flat voice.
A huge gasp instantly brought all eyes onto the king, who was suddenly staring at Allison with an odd expression, something like bewilderment if he hadn’t been frowning so severely.
“Your Majesty, what—” Aidric began before King Diryan interrupted, ignoring Aidric completely.
“Did I hear you correctly, milady?” the king demanded. “Did you imply that you came from Earth?”
“Yes,” Allison answered, her pulse speeding up. “You’ve heard of it?”
“I believe I have,” he replied. The redhead—Selwyn—flashed him a startled look. “My father once told me a tale when I was but a lad about a stranger who suddenly stumbled into a tavern in Lepha about 150 years ago. He was raving like a madman in a strange, fluid language, calling everyone—oh, what was the word Father used—‘monsieur,’ I believe it was.”
“Monsieur!” Allison exclaimed. “That’s—” She broke off helplessly when her excited mind could not find an equivalent word in the Lamian language, but then finished hastily in English, “—French!”
King Diryan leaned eagerly forward. “You know the language?”
“Yes!” Allison answered excitedly. “At least enough of it to know that ‘monsieur’ means ‘sir.’’”
He nodded thoughtfully. “No one in Lepha knew what to make of him. In the beginning, they thought him possessed by demons and sent him to the village temple in order for him to be cleansed. Of course, the Senini found nothing of the sort in him, only a great amount of fear and confusion—much like you. The Senini sent for a Master Linguist, who implanted the Lephan tongue into his memory as Zenas has done to you with ours.”
Well, that explains why I’m suddenly fluent in Lamian—sort of, she thought dazedly. That’s one mystery out of a thousand more cleared up, but…what the heck are Senini? Priests? Exorcists?
“The stranger’s name was Alphonse, if I remember correctly, and he said he had come from a land named Paris. He also mentioned Earth as you have, though the word he used was ‘Terre.’ He was dressed in clothing similar to our own in that period, but the fabrics were most peculiar, such as have never been seen anywhere. My father told me that Lepha still possesses his garments in their royal archives under spell-lock. They called him Lans-alamarsk—the Phantom Stranger—because he claimed that he had been walking in his world when he became disoriented and appeared in the village of Toril just like a phantom.”
“What became of him?” Allison asked eagerly. “Was he able to find a way to get back home?”
“I’m afraid not, milady,” King Diryan replied apologetically as Allison’s sudden hope came crashing down. “He lived out his life in Lepha according to my father.”
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Allison had been holding on to the desperate belief that everything would be all right and her current nightmare would be just that—a nightmare, but the king’s words suddenly brought reality crashing down on her.
“You mean—I’m stuck here—permanently?” she asked in a small voice, uncertain whether or not she wanted to hear the answer.
Everyone fell silent for a moment, shifting uncomfortably under her watchful, imploring eyes.
It was Aidric that finally broke the heavy silence by answering, “Allison, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that it is so.”
“But—but—can’t you help me?” she pleaded, grabbing his upper arm. “You’re supposed to be a mage. Can’t you—cast a spell or something to send me back?”
She didn’t want to accept his words—she couldn’t. Accepting her fate meant that she had to face it, and she was already on the verge of falling apart. She wanted to believe there was still hope, still a way for her to get back home to the new life she had struggled so hard to build for herself, but when she saw the pity in Aidric’s eyes, she knew before he spoke that there was no hope at all.
“I’m sorry, milady, but I know of no spell that can help you. We can only open portals between magical planes within our own world, not alternate worlds. I wouldn’t know where to even begin. Until you appeared, I didn’t believe it was possible for a portal to be built between worlds. That’s why I strongly believe that it was Seni that brought you here, that the ancient Prophecy of the Golden Mage has begun to unfold. It’s the only logical explanation. I’m sorry, but you must remain here as Seni wills.”
“No,” Allison
whispered in a barely audible voice. Then louder, “No—NO!” Suddenly she was sobbing brokenly into her hands. “Kat, my mom, my friends…I won’t ever…”
As she sobbed, she was vaguely aware of the sound of clothing fluttering softly, of Aidric’s presence near her, and then of footsteps echoing across the marble floor. Only when she heard a door click shut did she raise her now pounding head from her hands and regard the room with tears still leaking from her eyes.
Allison froze when she found that Selwyn, King Diryan, and the silent Zenas were no longer in the room, and only Aidric remained, on his feet again and staring at her with the oddest expression. Her sniffles immediately stopped when her gaze met his strange eyes—eyes that were guarded but at the same time, swimming with secrets. They seemed the very eyes she saw every morning when she looked into a mirror.
Then without warning, he reached out a deliberate hand and gently brushed a falling tear from her cheek.
Startled, she shrank away from his touch and whispered, “Don’t.”
He pulled his hand away as if it had been slapped, a puzzled expression forming on his face.
“Why are you so afraid of me?” he asked just as softly. “I mean you no harm; I have done you no harm. I only wished to comfort your pain.”
“I—I don’t know,” she replied uneasily, still shrinking away from him while new tears began to shimmer in her eyes.
“I think you do.”
“Wouldn’t you be frightened if you were in my shoes?” she demanded.
“In your shoes?” he asked, his expression becoming even more perplexed. “What do you mean—”
“Never mind,” she interrupted with a shaky sigh. “Where did the others go?”
“I sent them away.”
“Why?”
“I could sense your despair. You may not realize it, but you are broad-sending your emotions openly, and with my Empathy, they are as clear as though you were shouting them. I thought that you and I could speak alone for a while without the pressure of having a king watching your every move and an old man’s suspicious eyes boring into you. I want you to feel at ease with me, Allison.”
Allison looked away. “I don’t know you at all,” she said softly.
“Too true,” Aidric said with a sigh, but he flashed her an encouraging smile. “Then I suppose I should begin by telling you about myself and my kingdom.”
Turning to look at him again, Allison slowly nodded.
Aidric cautiously sat on the edge of the bed beside her and began, “Once again, I’m the Mage-general of Lamia as well as the king’s personal court mage. My duty to my kingdom and to Seni is to protect my king and people from all threats, as well as to guard the Mage-field from those who would abuse it.”
“What’s the Mage-field?” she asked curiously before she could stop herself.
“It’s the place where adept-mages draw their power,” he explained. “It lies mostly along the Lamian-Sononese border to the south. It’s not something that can be seen by normal sight. Only mages that possess Inner-sight can actually see the energy gathered there. To all others, it is merely a clearing within the forest.
“No one knows how a Mage-field comes to be formed, but I suspect that mankind had no hand in their origin. It also serves as the power source to fuel the Shield spell around the borders of Lamia that has thus far been proven impenetrable, even to my power, and I’m yet to find another mage my equal.” He grinned suddenly. “Although, I suspect that your mage abilities will one day exceed my own. I can’t be certain until you master them completely.”
“I still say that I couldn’t possibly have any mage powers,” Allison said stubbornly.
“That you do is irrefutable,” Aidric replied with a chuckle. “What do you think you were doing when you collapsed in the forest?”
She sat up straighter. “You know why I was hearing voices that weren’t there?”
This was one of the questions that had been plaguing her since the first time she had awakened in Aidric’s bed. She had assumed that her strange journey through the light realm had caused her to go temporarily mad, and the voices had been the product of hallucination. Apparently, that had only been her wishful thinking.
“You were using the magic of a mind-mage,” he said. “You fully opened your mind to every thought within our borders, and they all came rushing into your head at intolerable volumes. Your mind shut down because it could not bear what you were putting it through, thus, your collapse.”
“Mindreading?” Allison inquired skeptically.
“Yes, mindreading,” Aidric’s voice amusedly said inside her head.
Allison gasped in shock and pressed her hands against either side of her head. If not for the fact that his lips never moved when she heard his voice, she never would have believed what had just happened.
“How did you do that?” she demanded in a strangled voice.
The corners of his mouth stretched up. “Simple,” she heard within her mind again. “I merely reached for the channels into your mind that are receptive to external thoughts and sent my thoughts through them. Since you share my ability, you can hear me, although it is not mindreading. It’s one of the many forms of thought projection. We call it ‘thought-speech’ and those whose gifts lie in thought-speech, levitation, mind-probing, and mindreading, ‘mind-mages.’ Go ahead, try it. Just concentrate on placing your whole attention on me, and imagine that an invisible thread links our minds together. Then, just send your thoughts down that imaginary thread.”
“I can’t do something like that!” Allison said aloud.
“Yes you can. Have faith,” Aidric sent. “I know what I’m talking about.”
With a huge dose of trepidation, Allison did as he instructed. She focused her full attention onto his face, did her best to imagine a line linking their minds together, and thought as hard as she could, “CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Not particularly clever, but it was all she could think of to say.
To her surprise, Aidric’s face suddenly contorted into a grimace of pain, and he grabbed ahold of his head.
“Ah! Not so loud!” he exclaimed, flashing her a pained look. “You don't need to think so hard. Only the barest sliver of a thought is needed in order to be heard. Your thoughts are like your voice—you control the volume in which you desire to be heard. You can send emotions through your thoughts, as well, but that lesson is for another time. For now, is there anything you wish to ask me?”
“Yes…” Allison said hesitantly. “You—you say that I’m this ‘Golden Mage’ person. What exactly does that mean? What is it that you plan to do with me because of it?”
“I’m not certain how King Diryan will proceed with the situation,” Aidric replied thoughtfully after a moment’s silence. “Your presence here in our kingdom was unexpected. It’s a delicate matter—one that will require much more consideration and discussion. According to our prophecy, the Golden Mage is said to possess great power that can be very dangerous if it’s not controlled. More than likely, the king will assign you to me as an apprentice since I am really the only one qualified to teach you to control your mage abilities.”
“And after you teach me, what then?” she asked warily.
“You will be sworn as a sacred mage of Seni by our Horae, the priests of politics and warfare. A feast will be held in your honor in the palace as you are presented before the entire order of all classes of mages, but you need not be concerned with any of the ceremonial aspects just yet. Mage lessons usually take two to three years to complete.”
Feeling the ground crumbling beneath her, Allison pressed her lips together firmly and turned her gaze away from Aidric to the plain, granite wall, wistfully longing for a window to gaze out of, but the room oddly contained none. She turned so quickly that he did not see the shimmer of tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Allison felt a hand hesitantly rest on her shoulder, but this time, she didn’t flinch away. The warmth of his hand through the material of her blouse gave her a l
ittle comfort, and she found that he no longer frightened her so much as made her feel unsettled.
“I was going to be a councilor you know,” she said softly into the silence, her gaze still turned to the wall.
He said nothing.
“I had such big plans,” she continued, her voice wavering dangerously. “I wanted to help other traumatized children the way a councilor once helped me.”
“Allison—” Aidric began.
She continued on as if she hadn’t heard him. “Then this happens. Suddenly I’m whisked off and abandoned in an alien world by a god whose name I’ve never even heard before and given some super scary powers that I have no idea how to control. Now, instead of the councilor I’ve worked so hard to become, I have no choice but to become something I’m not sure I want to be.”
As the tears that had been swelling in her eyes began to slowly fall down her cheeks, Allison turned her head back around to face Aidric, her eyes heavy with a heart-wrenching sorrow. His expression somber, Aidric lowered his hand from her shoulder and gently cupped her folded hands into his own. He looked at her as if he wanted to speak, but he seemed at a loss for words.
As the tears continued to fall in eternal streams down the curves of her face, she whispered, “I’m nobody. There’s nothing at all remarkable about me, so why…?”
“Seni has many reasons for his actions,” Aidric replied quietly, “though He is not overly fond of disclosing them. Take heart, Allison. I don’t believe you were brought here only to fulfill the role of our prophecy. Nothing is ever so cut and dry as that. We must simply have faith that all will be well in the end and accept the task given to us.”