A mage in the making cogd-1

by Alastair J. Archibald

  Crohn was not quite convinced that Grimm understood the niceties of the Sight, although he had given a reasonable description of the phenomenon. Perhaps a practical demonstration might be necessary. "Afelnor, tell me about my colours, my aura."

  Trembling just a little, Grimm faced the Magemaster and squinted. "There are the gold lines that I think mean you're a wizard… a mage, that is," he corrected himself. "They're neat and straight. There's some light green, which I think means you don't like to give up, and orange spots. I know they mean you can get a bit angry sometimes, but they're wrapped in clouds of blue, which is a nice, friendly colour."

  Crohn was impressed; it seemed that the boy knew more than a little about the skill. He was about to dismiss the Student when Afelnor continued.

  "Right now, you have a lot of grey," he said, still squinting, "which means you're worried, but it's got all bits of white in it, which I think means you're hiding it. And now there's some yellow, which means you're a bit embarrassed 'cause you didn't believe me when I said I could see your colours…"

  Grimm stopped, clapping a hand over his mouth; his own aura was now awash with shades of yellow and grey.

  "Very well, Afelnor," grunted Crohn, unhappy that his barrier of emotionless impassivity had been breached.

  "You have the basis of Mage Sight. You will find that it is polite to keep silent about much of what you see in future, and you should never again do this unless given permission; to inspect another Guildbrother's aura without invitation is considered the height of bad manners."

  Grimm's cheeks became flushed, and he lowered his eyes in obvious embarrassment.

  "However, since I instructed you to demonstrate your control of the Sight, you are guilty of nothing more than a lack of tact, which is not a punishable offence, unless I suspect it is deliberate."

  Crohn waited for a few moments to let the lesson sink in and then continued, "Now, Afelnor; with the word 'tact' in mind, be so kind as to inform the class what you can divine concerning my Mage Staff."

  "I've never tried to see the colours for things, Lord Mage… but I can see something… it's a funny sort of colour. It glows… like a sort of… of reddish-grey-purple. I can't explain it. I've never seen the colour before, but it shifts and changes all the time, faster than it does with people."

  "That is what magic looks like, Afelnor," said Crohn, impressed with the boy's level of understanding. "The swirl and play of the colours are important. They can tell a mage about what the magic can do. One of the most important applications of Mage Sight is in the identification of magic, and it will be some time before you have the ability to apply this knowledge. But you have a good start here. You may be seated."

  Looking relieved, Grimm sat back down, but Crohn did not fail to notice looks of spite from some of the other boys.

  ****

  For the rest of the lesson, Crohn taught the Students exercises to bring forth the Sight and by the end of the morning, eight of them were able to see auras, if only in a dim and haphazard manner. This gave Grimm a little reassurance after his earlier gaffe.

  "We will revisit the subject of Mage Sight later," Crohn said. "I must now tell you something of the structure of the Scholasticate.

  "You come here as Students, as I did many years ago. If you work well and diligently, you will become Neophytes within a period of seven years or, on occasions, less. By that time, we should have learned enough about you to understand in which field your magical vocation may lie.

  "At that point, the paying Students among you may elect to leave the Scholasticate, with only the merest glimmering of what it means to pursue a life as a true mage. I hope you will not do so."

  Crohn's eyes seemed to burn, and Grimm's attention was drawn to them. From the utter silence that filled the room, he guessed that every boy in the room was as rapt as he.

  "Those of you who choose to build on your education will begin to be introduced to the actual practice of the arcane arts," the Magemaster boomed. "Should you prove equal to the requirements of your magical calling, you will be declared an Adept. An Adept is a mage-in-waiting. Your main task as an Adept is to refine and practice what you have learned, and to begin work on your Staff.

  "The Mage Staff is the true token of the mage, unbreakable, immutable and proof of your deep understanding and control of your chosen craft. A mage puts part of his soul into creation of his Staff, and it is a bonded part of him from that time on.

  "When your Magemaster agrees that your Staff is ready, you will be called upon to take it to the Breaking Stone in the Main Hall and strike it against the stone thrice with all your might. If it remains unbroken, you will be Acclaimed as a full and true Guild Mage. This is a prize beyond compare, although regrettably few persevere until this point. Perseverance is the key. Are there any questions?"

  A stout boy near the front of the class stood up. "Lord Mage, I've heard that there are lots of different kinds of wizard-I mean, mage. Can you tell us what they are?"

  Crohn nodded in acknowledgement of the question. "Firstly, I will say that there is far more to being a mage than carrying a staff and bearing a ring," he said. "A saying that you will hear many times is that 'power and presence complete the mage'. You will never bear the ring until you are cultured and educated people, in your bearing and in your speech. A true mage bears himself with true gravity, a presence that is beyond the norm. You may think that all Magemasters are pompous windbags-" Crohn paused to let the laughter die away. "-but the formal manner in which you hear me speak-that which we call 'Mage Speech'-is but one of the tokens of a master.

  "From this moment, you are not to use street vernacular such as contractions in class. That means that you will say 'it is' instead of 'it's', 'cannot' instead of 'can't' and 'would not' in place of 'wouldn't'.

  "I also wish to point out that to ask me a question beginning: 'Can you tell us…?' is asking if I am able to tell you, to which the only reasonable responses would be 'yes' or 'no'. The correct and polite way to commence such a request should be something like: 'Would you please tell us?' With this in mind, please rephrase your question."

  From the Student's fine clothes, Grimm guessed that he was well-educated, and that he had only forgotten what he had already been taught.

  The boy nodded, cleared his throat and said, "Please, Lord Mage, will you be kind and tell us which types of mage there are in the Guild?"

  Crohn suppressed a smile. "Near enough, boy-Shule, is it?"

  "Yes, Lord Mage. Angor Shule."

  "Well, Shule, there are many different kinds of mage within the Guild. From time to time, new names are thought up by High Lodge for mages who do not fit the standard moulds. I will not tell you details of each kind of mage at this time, for our time is limited, but some of the mage categories of which I am aware are Scholar, Reader, Necromancer, Manipulator, Weatherworker, Illusionist, Shapeshifter, Questor, Healer, Summoner, Dominator… there are several others, but I suspect that this list will suffice for the moment.

  "I am a Mage Manipulator, a mage who changes the physical form of objects. Senior Magemaster Urel, who has charge of the Scholasticate of which you are all fortunate to be Students, is an Illusionist, a mage who can place images, glamours and sensory impressions into an impressionable mind.

  "The types of mage have an order of precedence, of which you will be taught more in good time. Suffice it to say that Mage Questor, Mage Weatherworker and Mage Shapeshifter are the vocations most highly regarded by High Lodge and by magic-users in general. The reason that they are so highly esteemed is that they are very rare indeed.

  "I know that many of you have fathers or relatives who are Guild Mages of one of these rare types. As I have said, you may therefore imagine that this will guarantee you the same talents. I regret to say that, whilst genetic inheritance is a factor in determining whether or not a child has magical power, it does not determine his eventual calling.

  "Granted, a powerful mage is likely to have a powerful son. Yet power alon
e does not make a mage. Dedication, talent and firm, constant self-control are essential factors. Such traits rarely run entirely true in families. My father was a Seventh Rank Weatherworker, as was my grandfather.

  "Father brought me up from an early age to use and analyse the Sight, and I was taught how to read runes before I fully learned my native tongue. By the time I reached your age and started out here at the Scholasticate, I had what amounted perhaps to a three-year advantage over most of the other boys. Nobody was more surprised than I was when, as a Neophyte, my Magemaster told me that my vocation was to be as a Manipulator. This is a relatively highly regarded profession, but I had been so sure that I would be a Weatherworker like my father and his father before him."

  Crohn seemed to be on a familiar home stretch now, and his oratory picked up in pace and intensity.

  "Nevertheless, I swallowed my disappointment and applied myself assiduously to learn the craft of the Manipulator until I was finally Acclaimed. My father was present at my Acclamation, and he was just happy that I had managed to become any sort of mage.

  "The talents and abilities of mages of the various different classes will be outlined in greater detail later on in your schooling. However, I would like to say a few words about the undervalued calling of Mage Reader. Although this magical vocation is common and, hence, not held in high regard by ignorant people, there is no shame in this calling. Good Mage Readers are valued and important members of the Guild, but they can be hard to find.

  "Very few Students, knowing the lowly status that the discipline entails, choose to further their education here when they are informed as Neophytes that their vocation will be as a Reader. This is a mistake. A good Reader is an essential member of all Great Spells, spells involving large groups of mages. All Readers bear a House Ring identical to the one I have worn for many years now,"-he held up his left hand to display a beautiful blue-and-gold ring, and a few boys, including Grimm, gaped in mute appreciation-"the same ring that you may one day bear, if you are diligent in your studies.

  "Every Reader carries a staff scarcely distinguishable from my own, a staff crafted by his own hand, and good Readers are in some demand at High Lodge. A High Lodge Mage Reader is a mage of some distinction."

  Crohn gave a stern look. "I trust that none of you will turn his nose up if offered a vocation as Reader," he said, his brows lowered. No dissenting voice came.

  "As well as a hierarchy of vocations," he continued, "all the classes of magery have a number of grades within them, the highest being the Seventh Rank. As you can tell from the gold rings on my staff, I am a Mage Manipulator of the Seventh Rank. Our respected Prelate, Lord Thorn, is a Mage Questor of the Seventh Rank. Any mage of the Fifth Rank or above may teach in the Scholasticate, and any mage of the Seventh Rank may be declared a Magemaster, one who teaches and also acts as, I trust, a spiritual guide. At this stage in your education, this is all that you need to know. As Students, all that you really need to know is how to study, how to appreciate the value of your learning, and how to apply yourselves to the importance of the craft to which you have been submitted."

  The distant, strident bell of the Refectory sounded, indicating the mid-day meal break, and Crohn motioned the new Students to leave the classroom. They filed out in seeming stupor, and the Magemaster maintained his stiff, formal pose. When they had left, he allowed a broad smile to suffuse his face: the morning had gone well.

  Chapter 12: Kargan

  The new Students were dismissed to the Refectory for the mid-day meal, and some of the other boys sat with Grimm to ask him more about these mysterious colours and what they meant. He was more than happy to tell them what he know about the skill, but the boys drifted away after he had told them what they wanted to know. He looked about for Madar, the friendly boy he had met in the hall, but Madar was earnestly, confidently holding court at the far end of the Refectory. A large group of other young Students seemed quite engrossed in whatever it was that Madar was saying.

  Knowing he was forbidden to sit in the hallowed area reserved for the rich Students, Grimm worked his way through an insipid meal of broad beans and mutton in silence, ignored by the other Students at his end of the Refectory.

  ****

  In the afternoon, the boys were faced with the dynamic, enthusiastic figure of Magemaster Kargan, a welcome change from the forbidding Crohn, with a shock of grey hair, a neat goatee of the same colour and blue-tinted spectacles that gave him an indefinable air of mystery. Despite the colour of his hair and beard, Kargan's unlined face and broad, toothy smile looked as if they belonged on a much younger man.

  Where Crohn had announced the beginning of his lecture by banging his staff on the stone floor, Kargan began by ostentatiously slamming a pile of books onto the front desk with an impressive thump that made even the most torpid boy jerk into an upright position.

  Leaning forward on the balls of his feet, he spoke in a conspiratorial stage whisper.

  "You may have heard rumours that I am slightly unhinged," he began. "Those rumours may well be true." The beaming, somewhat manic expression on his face did not contradict this statement.

  "Greetings, Students," he cried in a loud but singsong voice. "I am Kargan Lindata." He paused to scribble his name on the slate board, "and for my pains it has fallen to my lot to try to teach you talentless ingrates something of Runes, Spell Reading and Recital."

  Kargan drew a deep breath and continued in a quieter tone.

  "No doubt," he said, "Magemaster Crohn has told you much of our noble calling but, in my experience, most of the pampered pets that come here merely hope to learn a few impressive tricks. Whether you learn or not is nothing to me; I have seen many a moneyed dilettante pass through these halls and I am not one who lusts for a magely Acclamation; I have held this staff for over twenty years, and I could not care less if you fritter your whole time away until you become bored and leave.

  "Nonetheless, I have to try to cram some of my hard earned knowledge into those thick pates of yours until something sticks."

  The booming voice dropped again to a low level, a parody of a tragedian's soliloquy.

  "I have studied and struggled for fifty-eight long years, only to come to this lot of ingrates," he said, adding a theatrical sigh and slapping a hand to his brow. "Nobody appreciates my vast talents." Some of the boys smiled, Grimm among them, recognising the new Magemaster's dry humour.

  "RUNES!" Kargan shrieked in a mighty voice which made the boys sit bolt upright again. "RUNES ARE THE LANGUAGE OF MAGICAL LORE!"

  Some of the Students regarded the Magemaster with wide, fearful eyes after this thundering declamation, but Grimm could recognise play-acting when he saw it; he guessed that Kargan was not in truth the fire-breathing maniac he appeared.

  The young Student found Kargan's style of education more entertaining, at least, than that of Magemaster Crohn, not least because Kargan did not seem to share Crohn's scruples with regard to the use of 'Mage Speech'.

  "Don't listen to what the other Magemasters may tell you about how important this facet of lore is, or how central that principle is. This is the most vital part of magic. This is magic!"

  Panting a little, and flicking grey locks from his eyes, Kargan began to rattle out a swift and complex litany that seemed designed solely to confound the Students.

  "Magical runes belong to a one-hundred-and-sixty-three letter alphabet divided into six families, with twenty-seven accents and fifty-two inflections. The runes of each family vary in context depending on order, tone, speed of delivery and cadence.

  "A spell consists of a series of runes, chanted with perfect diction and tone. A given rune will link smoothly only to certain others, and only in certain ways. Some runes can't be used to begin or end a spell. An accented rune cannot be used before a joining-rune or after a rising inflection except when preceded by a tonal modifier."

  Although Grimm loved books and read all he could, he did not understand most of what the Magemaster had said, and he feared
that all Kargan's lessons would be given in this rapid-fire, impenetrable style.

  Perhaps the other boys were trained in this sort of language, he thought. Maybe I'll never get the hang of it! He risked a surreptitious glance at the rest of the class, but the blank, stunned expressions of the other Students suggested that they were as confused as he.

  "Sounds complicated, doesn't it?" Kargan beamed like a madman. "It is. Yet this is one subject you will have to learn and understand before you take the ring. I did not lie: from the understanding of runes comes the whole panoply of performed magic and sorcery."

  Kargan paused to let his words sink in, his head swivelling back and forth like an owl's as he scanned his stunned flock.

  "Like music," he said, "if you do not have the ear for it, you may be able to scratch out a few simple spells by rote, but you will never become a spellcaster, any more than a tone-deaf urchin can play for the Gallorley Philharmonia."

  A wide, seraphic grin appeared on the mage's face. "So let's see if any of you has a half-way decent ear. You're all going to sing for me!" Kargan's expression suggested that he had just offered the Students some marvellous treat, but some of the boys looked aghast.

  What has singing to do with magic? Grimm wondered, and he could tell he was not alone in this thought.

  Kargan turned to Madar, sitting at the right hand side of the front bench. "Stand up, boy! What is your name?"

  In a tiny voice, the boy stammered, "M-Madar Gaheela, Lord M-Mage."

  Kargan nodded, and his own voice reduced in intensity to a bearable level as he said, "Ah, yes; Gaheela. Your father would be Ahad Gaheela, the master trader? In that case, I trust you have inherited his love of music, and even a little of his talent. I heard him playing the violin when I was an honoured guest at last year's New Year Recital in Ayre. It was most moving!"