Snowfall

by Brandon Cornwell

  “It's just a very large bath,” said Amethyst quietly. “I'd rather not share it with him for any longer than necessary.” She indicated Fredrick with a subtle nod.

  Tika nodded. “You're right. He's watching you.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Fredrick treading water, looking at her.

  “Keep your back to him. I'll stay in front of you, and keep an eye on him. Don't worry. He won't sneak up on you, especially not here. There's too many of us.” Tika floated around in front of Amethyst, setting her feet on the floor of the bath, and started unbraiding her hair.

  “He already mocks us, saying that we're lovers. This will make it worse.” She turned her back to the brash young man, refusing to look at him.

  Tika scoffed. “Let him mock. In three days, it won't matter in the slightest. Neither of us will ever see him again. He's going to say what he's going to say, and we can't change that.”

  Amethyst's expression darkened. “Where I come from, there are repercussions for talking to a woman like that.”

  Tika raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Must be nice. In my village, if you can get from the bakery to your front door without a hand up your skirt, you've done well, or you're a rich man's daughter. Or wife.”

  “I take it your husband is not a rich man?” Amethyst said, scrubbing at her hair as best she could without soap.

  “Oh, I was never married.” She snorted, slapping the water. “One too many cups of wine at a festival and I woke to a man doing what a man does. It was easier just to let him do it. Once it was known I was with child, well, I was damaged property, so I got to stay home while my friends got husbands.” She gestured to the room. “This was my way out. Still might be, even if I don't get picked. Someone who can practice magic is a bit more attractive than just some woman with another man's child.”

  Amethyst frowned, smoothing the water from her hair. “But you knew how to control the Earth element before you got here. Why didn't it matter then?”

  Shrugging, Tika started washing her own hair, keep an eye over Amethyst's shoulder. “It was a secret then. Once Rasul came, it was a secret no longer. If I had known it would have given me some value, maybe I wouldn't have kept it to myself.”

  Amethyst tread water, pondering over Tika's words. “In my homeland, mages are looked at with fear and distrust. The priests tell us that they pervert the will of the gods and abuse their elements. I was advised to keep my journey a secret.”

  “Your identity too, I guess.”

  She looked up at Tika. “What do you mean?”

  Tika deadpanned at her. “Oh come now. You don't honestly think I believe your name is Quartz, do you? Nobody names their child after a rock.” She shrugged. “It's fine. To me, you are who you want to be. You're Quartz. That's good enough for as long as we will know each other.”

  Amethyst was quiet for a moment. “Tika, how would I find your village, if I were to try to find you, after all of this?”

  Tika shrugged again. “Go straight east from this mountain, until you cross into the Burning Sands. There is a land crossed by canyons, though not nearly as large as the Great Rift. When you reach the Salty Sea, keep going – the canyons are just beyond it. You can't miss them, really.” She shook her head. “But it's not a trek anyone would take on a whim. We journeyed for almost a month through the desert to get here.”

  Amethyst set a hand on Tika's shoulder. “If I am able, when this is over, I will see you again. If I am picked, I will come visit you. If you are picked, you come visit me.”

  Tika opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a catcall behind them. Amethyst turned around to see Fredrick and his group of hangers-on pointing at them and snickering.

  She shook her head. “I think I am clean enough for now.”

  Chapter Eight

  11th Waxing Moon of the Long Night, Year 4367

  Standing in the chamber beyond the bath, dressed in her new clothes, Amethyst was ready. There was nothing that any trial could throw at her that she would be unable to handle. She didn't feel like a princess or a queen, or a Hopeful, or even an apprentice. She felt like a mage.

  The garments were simple, with little in the way of decoration or style. Plain woven cloth trousers fell to the tops of her feet, tied securely around her waist with a sewn cloth belt. A long shirt that opened in the front hung to halfway down her thighs, crossing over her chest and belted around the middle with a sash just a shade darker than the rest of her clothes. Slippers, lined with wool and seemingly made for her feet, completed the outfit. Form and comfort seemed to have taken precedence over flair, and Amethyst was just fine with that.

  Around her, the other Hopefuls stood at ease, their feet spread to the width of their shoulders, hands clasped behind their backs. Amethyst had seen her father's soldiers stand this way when they were being given orders, or while at rest during a parade, and she had to admit, it made standing for long periods much more bearable.

  Behind a small wooden podium, Rasul flipped through a hefty tome, searching the text. Tapping the page with one finger, he looked up, drawing the attention of the young men and women before him.

  “A skill that you must master,” he said, looking around the assembled youths, “is the ability to sense the position of stone and the empty spaces within it. Without this ability, you are effectively blind when manipulating the energies around you. Near the Temple of the Summit, there was no danger, as that peak is solid through and through. However, here in Master Giriraj's stronghold, there are miles of caves and tunnels that travel deep into the heart of the mountain. If you cannot sense where the empty places are, you could try to draw from the stone, and find nothing.”

  He closed the book and stepped around the podium. In his hand was a large hourglass, filled with fine white sand. “If you find yourself in a place of total darkness, you can use this ability to see without your eyes and guide yourself to safety. You can use it to determine what kinds of stone surround you, so that you can draw exactly what you need from the surrounding minerals.”

  One of the young women – the one that Fredrick had slept with at the Temple of the Summit – raised her hand, and Rasul pointed to her. “Yes, Selena?”

  “If we wanted to, could we pull gold from the ground?”

  Rasul raised an eyebrow. “Theoretically, yes, you could. However, you will find that the Masters have little use for gold or silver, so it would be pointless. When the power of the elements bends to your will, the trappings of mankind begin to have less value. What good is gold if you never want for anything? Pulling such a soft metal from the stone would be much more work than necessary, and to what end? Wealth? If you are a powerful enough magus to do such a thing, you won't need a kingdom's wealth.”

  “Then what is the point?” asked Fredrick, spreading his hands. “If you can't get rich, why even learn how to do such a thing?”

  Leveling a stare at Fredrick, Rasul tucked his hands into his sleeves. “If you think that the pursuit of power and knowledge is pointless, Fredrick, you are free to wait for me in the dining chamber.”

  Fredrick did not answer.

  “Very good,” said Rasul. “Now, all of you know how to sense the ambient energy of our element in the stone. What we are going to do now is focus on the element without manipulating it. By leaving the energy where it is, we can follow it and find where it naturally settles, and what spaces it avoids. All of you, sit.”

  Amethyst sat on the floor next to Tika, surprised at how well her clothing protected her from the cold ground. The rest of the Hopefuls sat as well, some sitting cross-legged like her, others taking their own positions. Rasul walked amongst them, handing each a rolled parchment and a stick of charcoal. When he was done, he sat in front of the podium, leaning his back against it.

  “What you are looking for is a chamber in this mountain. It has no passages leading to it, nor does it have any light. In this chamber is a tablet with a series of numbers and a shape drawn on it. When you have found the chamber and re
ad the tablet, you will write the numbers and draw the shape. If you cannot read, then just the shape will be sufficient.” He turned the hourglass over, and the sand started flowing. “You have one hour.”

  Amethyst took a breath and closed her eyes, reaching out into the mountain. The amber glow of the energy around her filled her mind's eye, but this time she didn't draw it in. Instead, she simply observed it, focusing on where it was in relation to her. Gradually, she saw the walls of the chamber, the other Hopefuls, and Rasul. The more she focused on the light, the clearer the image became, until she was able to pick out the features on the faces of each other person in the room.

  Reaching out farther, she tried to see past the wall that separated the room she was in from the bath chamber. At first, the stone between them formed an opaque barrier, but as she turned her attention to it, she was able to see through it. The vaulted ceiling formed another barrier of light, but the water in the bath itself appeared to her like a shadow, blocking out the glow of the stone underneath.

  It was unlike anything Amethyst had ever seen before. She pushed her focus up through the mountain, and it was as if her perception left her body. Her mind's eye shot upwards until it came out the peak, and she was able to see the Stromgard Mountain in its entirety. The massive formation was glowing a brilliant gold, radiating through the surrounding mountains and plains. Dark lines cut through the hills and fields, and she realized they were rivers, shielding the energy of the earth from her vision. Even the clouds and mists obscured her sight, rolling through the peaks and valleys.

  She focused on the mountain beneath her again, returning to the task at hand. She could see a dark spot inside of the stone, as if the mountain were made of stained glass with a hollow in the center. In that dim section were sixteen amber sparks and one purple; that must be the training room where she was sitting. Threads of brighter energy were flickering to life then fading out as the rest of the Hopefuls struggled to sense the energy.

  Amethyst descended back into the mountain, her mind racing at what she was seeing. Whatever she focused on was what her perception went to, though she didn't know exactly how she was doing it. It was only an instant before she was back in the room with the rest of the Hopefuls.

  Now that she knew what to look for, she pushed herself into the stone beneath her. As her mind's eye passed through the floor, dozens of caverns became visible. They snaked through the stone, branching and connecting with each other. Some of them met the surface of the mountain, others began and ended without ever touching each other. One of the caverns even had a stream flowing along it, running into a small lake. She was unable to see through the water, so she moved past it.

  Just as Rasul had said, she found an empty chamber. It was a perfect cube, about ten feet to a side. In the middle, rising from the floor, she could see the glowing outline of a pillar. On that pillar was a tablet.

  Amethyst moved into the room, and it was as if she were standing in front of the tablet itself. However, all she could sense was the outlines of the walls, the pillar, and the tablet. Rasul had said she should be able to tell which minerals were which, but all she could see was the light.

  She stared at the tablet, unable to divine what was on its surface. If she couldn't read it, then she wouldn't be able to reproduce the markings on its surface, and she would fail. She tried to reach out, but she found that she didn't have any hands. Indeed, she had no body at all; she was only perception. Anxiety gripped her as she tried to find any markings on the stone.

  Her focus started to slip, and she jolted, opening her eyes. She was back in the chamber with the rest of the Hopefuls. Rasul was watching her, one eyebrow slightly raised. The sand in the hourglass was only a quarter down; she had plenty of time. She took another breath, and closed her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate.

  Her consciousness snapped back into the chamber. She reached out to the tablet, preparing to channel energy into it like a heating stone.

  As soon as her senses touched the stone, it lit up like a beacon. She could see the writing on the surface, which appeared to be a darker stone set into the quartz that formed the rest of the tablet. There was a spiral, like that of a seashell, and a series of numbers. She quickly committed them to memory and let her focus drop, snapping back to her body.

  She blinked, the dull gray of the training room a stark contrast to the amber world of light she had just left. Rasul was still watching her. As soon as she made eye contact with him, he nodded towards her a sheet of parchment. While the numbers were still fresh in her head, she started jotting them down.

  One. One. Two. Three. Five. Eight. Thirteen. Twenty-one. Thirty-four.

  Amethyst paused in her writing, a realization dawning on her. This was the Ratio of Luxa. It was a numerical sequence held as sacred – or at least significant – by the priests back at Castle Lonwick. Though the sequence of numbers on the tablet had stopped at thirty-four, the next in the series was fifty-five, then eighty-nine, so on and so forth. The newest number in the sequence was added to the one before it to divine the next. That explained the spiral; it was a representation of that sequence.

  Why it was etched into a tablet in the heart of a mountain, she had no idea, nor did she have the time to puzzle it out. Carefully, she sketched out the sweeping arms of the spiral and handed the parchment to Rasul.

  He didn't even look at the sheet before he tucked it away into his robes. “Excellent, Quartz. Well done. You may rest until the next lesson.

  “I've finished,” said Fredrick, standing up and handing his parchment to Rasul as well.

  Tika was next to turn in her markings. Her numbers seemed odd, as if they were drawn rather than written; the proportions weren't entirely correct, though they were legible.

  Eight more Hopefuls scratched out markings on their parchments and brought them to Rasul, who glanced at each one and tucked it away. They waited, watching the hourglass as the remaining five – four young men and one of the young women – sat in silence, still trying to find the tablet.

  As the final grains of sand dropped through the neck of the hourglass, Rasul cleared his throat. “The lesson is complete. If you have not yet found the tablet, then you have failed.”

  One of the young men opened his eyes, frantic. “I found it! I did!”

  Rasul gestured to a parchment. “Then show me what you saw.”

  The look of panic on the Hopeful's face as he stared at the parchment gave Amethyst a twinge of pity. The young man held the stick of charcoal awkwardly in one hand and bowed his head, defeated.

  Tucking his hands into his sleeves, Rasul addressed the Hopefuls that had not completed the lesson. “You five, come with me.” He led them out of the room, leaving Amethyst, Tika, Fredrick, and the remaining eight Hopefuls alone in the chamber.

  “How did you do that so fast?” whispered Tika, leaning over to converse with Amethyst.

  “I don't know. I just... I thought about what I wanted to see, I focused on it, and I saw it.”

  Tika shook her head. “I wonder what those markings meant?”

  “They were numbers,” said Amethyst. “A sequence that dictates a spiral that can be found almost everywhere. Seashells, pine cones, certain flowers... some priests think it's a design from the gods.”

  “I've never seen a seashell before,” said Tika, furrowing her brow. “There are no oceans in the Burning Sands. The closest one is past the Great Rift, and I've never been that far south.”

  “There's an enormous ocean to the west, with warm tropical islands far across it. We'll have to go there someday.”

  Rasul returned alone and walked directly to the podium. The remaining eleven Hopefuls watched him in silence as he wasted no time in opening the book and flipping through its pages. He looked up at the young men and women before him, his expression serious.

  “The next thing that we will learn is how to focus the raw energy of the earth into a barrier. When properly formed, it will diffuse and dissipate any other energy thrown at
it, provided you are strong enough to maintain the barrier against the assault.” He looked up from the page he had landed on. “The best shape for this is a sphere. It is the natural shape of matter, and thus a natural shape for energy. All of Erde is a sphere, the moon is a sphere, and so the shape of your barrier will be a sphere.”

  The Hopefuls looked around each other, some of them confused. Many of the legends of Erde spoke of different fantastical accounts of how the world was created or the shape of it; some spoke of a giant platter on the back of a turtle, others that the world had an edge that one could theoretically walk or sail over, falling to the Abyss. In Lonwick, it was well known that Erde was round, but in other lands, perhaps that information was not quite so widespread.

  Rasul ignored their confusion and continued with the lesson. “Just as you have pulled energy and stone up from the earth and shaped it as you wished, you must do the same with the essence of earth. This time, however, do not draw the ground up with it. Instead, pull as much energy as possible into a shell no thicker than your finger, and surround yourself with it. Who will go first?”

  Fredrick immediately raised his hand. “I will, sir!”

  Nodding, Rasul beckoned for Fredrick to step to the side of the group. “Very well. Take your place to the left and let me know when you are ready, and then I will test your shield until I breach it.”

  Fredrick stood where he was told, then rubbed his hands together. Though she was not focusing on the element right now, Amethyst could almost feel it pulsing through the ground. Fredrick exerted his will over the forces that imbued the stone beneath them, drawing it up and forming it around him.

  Amethyst had never had the opportunity to watch another person perform magic before. She had always been preoccupied with learning how to do it herself, and thus had not paid attention to anyone else. Though she detested Fredrick, the sight of him performing magic was fascinating. He did not shape the magic with his hands, or pantomime his actions with gestures like she did. Instead, he simply closed his eyes and focused.