‘It’s not a matter of why, Samuel. Everyone believes it and that’s all that matters. They were looking so hard, that when Dividian discovered young Master Pot’s skills with precursor journey spells, he came ranting and raving and convinced Lord Jarrod that the answer had been found. I believe I’m the only one who yet realises what potential you have. It’s quite funny. The damned black-cloaks never see the obvious. They went looking for deeper answers when you were there all along, staring them right in the face. Although, I do admit the translation could throw almost anyone.’
‘What do you mean?’ Samuel asked, baffled.
‘Oh, forgive me,’ the man replied. ‘I forget you may not have heard. That fool seer, Master Celios, has a terribly annoying habit of making accurate predictions. One day he just spat it out in Old Tongue in the Emperor’s Court: Elem edundate, summa mardum il tuvum munummani quam, il varnate odum no commen ra.’
‘Fear him, the traveller who kills the king that cannot be killed, the magician that cannot be found,’ Samuel translated out loud.
‘That’s one version, Samuel, and the one that set all the old fools on an old fools’ errand. This particular dialect is from a very old branch of the Old Tongue, and I have invested considerable effort into translating it myself. If they had used less ornate wording, as all you black-cloaks are fond to do, and used a bit more common sense, they would have come to a more meaningful result: “Beware the killer of the immortal king, the magician that cannot be seen” is a more fitting translation by my reckoning. Everyone was quick to assume the most obvious, as it validated the discovery of young Eric Pot’s travelling spell, but they failed to consider a much simpler answer: a magician who appeared a few months later, who failed to give off any magical emanation at all. You were passed off as just a nuisance and a curiosity, Samuel, but you’re much more than that and all those fools looked right past you.’
Samuel was full of disbelief. ‘You think I am the one that Master Celios was speaking of?’
‘I do. And I believe Jarrod has just now come to the same conclusion and others will, too, if they have not already. All have been willing to play the waiting game, intent on snatching up the spoils, but now that the first assumption has gone sour, everyone will be eager to steal you away—hence the order for your death. You are too dangerous to be left alive, Samuel. The Turians don’t want their Emperor killed—they want power and you are now a threat to all of that. What cannot be controlled, must be destroyed. That is the creed of the covetous.’
Samuel finally realised something that should have been obvious long ago. ‘So it was Jarrod and Dividian I heard plotting in my dreams.’
‘What do you mean?’ the other asked with interest.
‘Sometimes, I hear pieces of conversations in my head, but mostly it is just intelligible nonsense. The same two voices kept coming back to me, but I never realised who they were until now.’ Then another point grabbed his attention. ‘But if you work for Lord Jarrod, why are you helping me?’
‘I do not work for them, boy. We exchange favours for mutual benefit. At least, that is what I let them believe. To let them think I am in their employ is to my advantage. Let’s leave it at that.’
‘So what do you think I should do?’
‘You cannot stay in Cintar. It is far too dangerous and no matter how well you hide, they will eventually find you. If you stay here, you will be dead within a few days at the very most—of that I am sure.’
‘Surely they can’t just have me murdered! There would be some form of investigation.’
The magician sniggered a moment. ‘You are so naive, Samuel. They can make your death seem any way they wish. Or you could just disappear altogether. You wouldn’t be the first and I’m sure you won’t be the last. It’s unfortunate this situation has arisen. I can’t take care of you as I am far too busy and neither can I interfere with Jarrod, as he is an unfortunate necessity at the moment. Anthem is the only one who could protect you now, but Jarrod has managed to remove him from the picture for the time being.’ He puffed a stream of smoke up towards the hazed ceiling. ‘Your only chance is to leave Cintar altogether.’
‘But where would I go?’ Samuel asked. ‘How can I just disappear? I don’t want to leave.’
‘Very well,’ the man said with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘Then enjoy your last hours.’
‘Wait, wait,’ Samuel pleaded. ‘Tell me what I should do.’
‘Just leave the city. You can come back once you have learned to fend for yourself.’
‘How long will that take?’ Samuel asked. ‘The war in the north could have started by then.’
The magician smiled, almost mischievously. ‘I’m sure it will. The war is a triviality, Samuel. Greater things are at work. You must learn to turn your head and see more than just what is in front of your eyes. I will tell you this, and if there is only one thing I tell you that you believe, then, let this be it: you have a power like no other magician we know, but you are still a boy by most standards. You must survive and develop towards whatever potential awaits you. The Empire and the Order and even the Circle itself are inconsequential compared to what will come in future days and you must be ready.’
Samuel mused over the magician’s words.
‘Listen to me,’ the man continued. ‘The Order is changing, as you have seen. They have precious little to teach you now and are more of a threat to you than anything. You must become your own teacher. You must experience what lies beyond the walls of your tiny little school and beyond the walls of this city. There are secrets you can only discover by looking inward—secrets far greater than anything you can be taught or shown by another. I will send you far away, to the distant reaches of the Empire. I want you to stay hidden and I want you to study your inner magic. When the time is right, I will send word to you, but ignore everything else you may hear—about the Order or the Empire or the war. If you do as I say, when you return to Cintar, you will be a king among magicians and you will realise that everything happening now is just bluster and nonsense.’
‘Where will I go?’
‘I already have something in mind. There is a small town in the territory of Tindal called Gilgarry. I have a man there doing some work for the Circle. He can provide you with funds and arrange anything you need. He goes by the name of Cervantes. Keep your identity secret, even from him, and he will provide you with whatever you need. As long as you remember that, you will remain safe.’
Samuel took a deep breath as he thought the matter over. The smoke was leaving a bitter taste in the back of his throat and he ached to be out of the place.
‘Very well,’ he finally said. ‘I don’t see that I have much of a choice if I want to live. I’ll pack my things and leave at once.’
‘Samuel,’ the magician said, levelling his gaze at the young magician opposite him. ‘If you go back to the School of Magic, you may not have the chance to leave. You should go directly to the South Gate and don’t look back. There are many merchants there to supply your needs. You can get a horse and provisions easily enough and be on your way before you are found.’
Samuel shook his head. ‘How did everything come to this?’ he asked out loud. ‘Everything was going so well and now my life is turned upside-down again.’
The magician took a deep breath on his pipe and exhaled pale blue smoke with a sideways grin. ‘That is life, Samuel. You should get used to disappointment.’
‘So it seems I must join you as you said, despite my own wishes. Then tell me—what is your name?’
‘I won’t lie to you, but I cannot tell you my true name yet. Suffice to know, I am known by some as Soddan.’
‘Little brother?’ Samuel asked, for he recognised the word in the Old Tongue.
‘Yes, it is a long story. If you return to Cintar, I will probably know, but if you somehow find yourself needing me, you can ask for me here by that name. My one pleasure in life is to smoke some fine Fiskian tobacco, so I come here on the rare occasions that time pe
rmits.’
Samuel waited a few moments, then with a sigh he said, ‘So, I will go.’ He stood from his cushion and nodded toward the cross-legged magician. ‘Thank you for your help, Master Soddan.’
‘Bah!’ the magician responded. ‘I am no Order lackey. Don’t give me such titles.’
‘Very well. Before I leave, I want to ask you something. There is a man I have vowed to kill. I will follow your advice, but I will not rest until I find him. I have heard him talking with people in the Circle, so perhaps you know him. His name is Master Ash.’
Again, the magician smiled knowingly, as if everything Samuel said had some hidden meaning. ‘Yes, I know of him, but I’m afraid I can’t offer you any more information than that just now. Suffice to say that I’m very sure you will have your chance to kill him if that is what you really desire, but first you must save yourself by getting out of the city. Go now and be quick about it.’
At that, Samuel went over to the doorway, bent down, and ducked back outside. He had no intention of going directly to the South Gate as Soddan had instructed, for he could not possibly disappear without telling his friends and he absolutely needed his notes and journals. He wove his way through the streets, making his way back towards the north end of the city, skittish all the while.
Coming to Cornish Street, Samuel was divided as to whether he should take the most direct route by turning left or the longer route by turning right. After a few moments of nervous indecision, he turned entirely about and decided to make his way as indirectly as possible to avoid anyone who may be waiting in his path. Samuel could not help but notice a fellow standing idly a few strides away and looking directly towards him from beneath the rim of a tight green cap. He could not help feeling even more anxious as the man began coming towards him. He tried to walk calmly, but he could not help quickening his steps. Every so often, he would look back over his shoulder, and the man was there, following some way behind, peering through above the crowd. At last, Samuel sprang forward and began running as fast as he could.
Panting and tired a few streets away, Samuel glanced over his shoulder, but the man was nowhere to be seen. He hurried the rest of the way back to the School of Magic, making a beeline without any further thought of subterfuge. Only when he had passed through the open gates that broke the school walls did he feel any safer.
‘So, you’re really going?’ Goodfellow asked as Samuel hurriedly packed his satchel.
‘I have no choice that I can see,’ Samuel said. ‘If I stay I’m done for. I’m certain.’
‘Things are really falling to pieces,’ Goodfellow responded forlornly. ‘Soon there will be no one left here at all.’
‘Don’t worry, Eric,’ Samuel told his friend. ‘You’ve always been the sensible one. I’m sure everything will work out for you and soon enough, I’m sure we’ll meet again.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Goodfellow admitted. ‘So where will you go?’
‘I can’t tell you,’ Samuel replied. ‘It’s better that you don’t know. I’m sure Jarrod’s men are already after me, and who knows who else, so I will leave at once. I shouldn’t even have returned here, but I couldn’t have left without letting you know and getting my journal.’
‘Do you want me to tell Master Glim?’
‘No,’ Samuel returned abruptly. ‘Don’t tell him anything, except that I have gone away. I’m not even sure I trust him any more.’
‘I just hope you know what you are doing, Samuel.’
‘Me, too,’ he admitted.
They shook each other’s hands and Samuel embraced his friend in a crushing hug. Without looking back, Samuel then left the dormitory. He went to the stables, where a couple of apprentices were tending the horses. Samuel chose the best steed there and then checked her harness and saddle twice over after the boys had announced she was ready.
‘Does she have a name?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ said one. ‘Nobody ever told us if she does.’
‘Then I shall have to come up with a good one.’
Pushing one boot into a stirrup, he hoisted himself up. He wanted to give the boys some advice that would see them through these days. If the Council had its way, they would soon be heading off to war. ‘Study hard,’ was all he could think to tell them and he clicked his tongue and started his mount towards the entrance.
Perhaps it would have been better, Samuel thought to himself, if he had accepted the offer of the Circle of Eyes and joined their ranks, or even Balthazar’s misdirected Union of Modern Magicians. At least they did not try to disguise their nature. They were honest about what they were. Soddan was right in many ways. The Order had no use for him now and so had simply decided to kill him. All the while, he had thought he was part of some grand and honourable cause, but really he had just been a pawn all along. All that did not matter now. He was leaving such things behind him and he would soon forge his own fate.
He shook the reins and urged his animal on and out of the School of Magic, through the bustling streets and out of the East Gate without any hint of the lanky man or other pursuer. With his black cloak flowing behind him, Samuel left the grand city of Cintar behind and began along the long and dusty road from which he had once come.
INTERLUDE
An excerpt from the Book of Helum (4:1:1)
LET ME BEGIN by stating something that may be startlingly obvious. Magic is no fairy tale. It really exists and affects our everyday lives, whether we know it or not. Magic is the name for a powerful force that exists all around us, which can be harnessed and used if, of course, you know how. To many people, magic seems a fascinating and wondrous thing, seemingly capable of accomplishing any number of tasks, but, in truth, it is merely another form of energy, such as heat or light or movement, but one which can be moulded by the will alone. Magic can be directed with mere thoughts, which makes it seem positively remarkable, but given that reality itself is shaped by how we perceive it, the existence of something like magic should really come as no surprise.
Magic cannot however, as many people like to think, accomplish everything. I have never seen or even heard of some of the things that are rumoured to occur in many old wives’ tales: such things as dancing furniture, talking fountains, frogs that change into princes or princes that change into frogs. Magic can only accomplish very limited and practical things and not such frivolous nonsense. It can be converted into any of the other forms of energy with great efficiency. It is then up to the user to direct this resulting energy into more complex forms. Heat can create flame, light can create illusion, and attraction can create wind and movement. Combinations of energy can create very complex structures, such as storms and advanced illusions that feel firm to the touch and rich in the nose.
Nothing that is not real can be made from magic. Of course, you can create illusions from magic, but only ‘real’ things can be formed, as opposed to ideological or abstract concepts. You cannot create happiness or love or sorrow or even lies and truth, for they are creations of our imaginations and are not tangible things. By altering the physical mind of a higher creature, you can make them feel happy or loving or sorrowful, but this is another thing altogether.
It has been theorised that variations in the ether cause the flows which we, in turn, harness and call ‘magic’, but I have often wondered what exactly causes these variations, for why should a perfect structure such as the ether find itself containing areas which vary from one part to another? What should cause these differences? I, of course, cannot tell from personal experience, but I have often theorised and my pondering has led me to regard the very universe itself. For it is upon the ether that our universe is built, for otherwise, where would it be and what would be between the things that exist, but nothing? If there was nothing, how could something then be put there and what would hold it in place? The answer, of course, is that there is always something for matter to be placed upon, even when we cannot see it, and this thing we call ‘the ether’. How then, can nothing be someth
ing? The answer again, of course, is that it must be everything, for only by being everything can something exist as both nothing and something. By bending and folding the endless fabric of the ether in place, something is created from nothing.
The nature of the universe is chaos. This can be seen at any given moment in any given act. Cups often fall from tables and break into many small pieces, but very rarely do the little pieces I leave at the base of my table (sometimes for many years at a time while I prolong my pondering) leap up and form a cup without my direct intervention. My home is very often in a state of disarray, and never is it tidy unless I make an effort to make it so. This is why chaos reigns, for energy must always be exerted to keep chaos at bay, while chaos will spring into being freely given the slightest opportunity. This being said, if the nature of the universe is chaos, why then, do we fight against nature? Why do we not, in our lives, allow chaos to take its due course? Simply because we are creatures of habit, which is a form of order, and we survive purely through the fact that we challenge chaos. If we did not, we would never accomplish anything constructive—again, a form of order. Life, then, can be said to be a little knot of ordered chaos, acting in direct opposition to the turbulence of destruction around it. Creation and destruction are ever at ends with each other; life and death; order and chaos.
The nature of the universe is order. It can be seen at every opportunity that this is so, for everything in existence yearns for balance. Given the chance, every mote of matter, every fragment of energy would prefer to be evenly spaced throughout the universe, completely without variation. This, unfortunately, would result in a uniformity void of change or variance or anything remotely interesting, so it is quite lucky that order and chaos have each other to keep things in check, or everything would be rather plain and unappealing, indeed.
The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy) Page 33