Snowfall

by Brandon Cornwell

  Farrokh held his hands up. “This discussion is not about whether any of us have upset the balance, either deliberately or negligently,” he said. “What we are discussing is the increase in activity from the fallen beasts, and the distinct possibility of the return of the Felle.”

  Amethyst was surprised. The Felle? She had heard of them in legends and folklore, but had always considered them to be myths, like Grandfather Winter or the Spring Hare. The dead, risen from their graves to fight for an unseen master? It defied logic, but here was the Master of Order talking about them as if they were real.

  Titus, the Master of Fire, spoke next. “I have heard reports of creatures massing in the far south, so I went to investigate. I saw no Felle, but I did see many orcs and ogres, and some trolls. They were gathering in the desert to the southwest of the Great Rift. Several thousand of them, at least.” He shrugged. “This does not affect my element at all, but I believe such a gathering would cause the fluctuation you spoke of. Those beasts tend to side with Adrik's element.”

  “Is this true?” asked Farrokh, looking to Adrik. “Do the beasts gather in the desert?”

  Adrik shrugged. “How am I to know? I don't commune with such creatures.”

  “It is true,” said Amethyst, speaking up. Everyone in the room stopped and looked directly at her, causing her to shrink back slightly. Adrik, in particular, seemed annoyed, glaring at her from across the table, while Giriraj looked down at her disapprovingly.

  “Normally, Apprentices do not speak at a meeting of the Masters,” said Farrokh, frowning at her. “This is something that you should have learned from your master by now.”

  “She is new yet, and young for her kind,” said Giriraj. “Rest assured, she will be educated on the matter shortly.”

  “Be that as it may,” said the Master in yellow robes, speaking for the first time, “She made it clear that she has information we may need. I think we should hear it.”

  “Are we in the habit of listening to peasant elves from Lonwick now?” asked Adrik, scoffing. “Perhaps this council is beginning to lose its way.”

  Farrokh narrowed his eyes at Adrik, annoyed. “The Apprentice of Earth is no peasant girl,” he said. “She is the daughter of the king of Lonwick. She may very well have information we are not privy to.” He looked back to Amethyst. “I think we should let her speak.”

  “As do I,” said the Master of Chaos, straightening out his yellow robes and leaning back. Several of the other Masters nodded, though Cedric and Adrik shook their heads. From the other side of the table, Cedric's silver-haired apprentice sat back, watching Amethyst intently, though she did not speak.

  Clearing her throat, Amethyst sat up in her chair. “Shortly before I left Castle Lonwick three and a half months ago, in the second half of the Frost Moon, we received word of ogres attacking farms and settlements in the southern province. Trolls were becoming more active near the mountains around Greatport, and as I traveled into the Northlands, my entourage and I were attacked by a large band of orcs.”

  She glanced up at Giriraj, and he nodded for her to continue. “They are becoming more aggressive, attacking human and elven settlements in my country. My father has dispatched soldiers to deal with individual raiding parties, but I do not know if he is aware of a force of thousands.”

  Adrik gestured to her. “You see? Even if there are beasts in the south, the elves will deal with them. We have better things to do than babysit a mundane kingdom that can take care of itself.”

  “If they believe that the threat is smaller than it is, then they may neglect it until it grows out of hand,” cautioned Titus. “It would be a kindness to at least send word of what they face.”

  “So what, we are lackeys to the elves now, to do their scouting for them?” Cedric scoffed. “Everyone in this room not born in the Northlands should remember what it is like to live under the thumbs of elves. Ever have they lusted for lands not theirs while they let humans starve or be butchered. Let them see to their own safety.”

  Amethyst scowled deeply. “That is not true! We have always protected our citizens, regardless of who they were!”

  Farrokh turned to Giriraj. “If you cannot control your apprentice, then I will.”

  Giriraj sat stone-faced, not looking at Amethyst. “Return to my chambers.”

  “But they insult-”

  He looked down at her, the anger plain on his face. “You insult this Council with your outbursts, and you insult me with your disobedience. Do as I say or you will feel the back of my hand.”

  Never before had she been spoken to like this, not by her father, not by anyone. Even when Fredrick had been heckling her, it had been crude, dismissible, and without authority. Now, with the way Giriraj was looking at her, her words froze in her throat. Swiftly, she stood, pushing her chair back against the table, and quickly left the room. As the door closed behind her, she could hear Adrik going on about how elves did not belong on the council, before the closing door silenced him in her ears.

  It was a blur going back to Giriraj's chamber, and Amethyst almost got lost before she managed to find her way back to the massive, iron-studded door, push it open, and close herself inside. She stormed to her room, slamming the door behind her, and stood in the center of the rug, fists clenched at her sides. How dare they speak about her father and her kingdom like that. How dare they speak about her like that.

  Gradually, as she stood in her room, she calmed down, and the reality of her situation sank in. She was not a princess here – she was an apprentice, the lowest of their order. The people in the Citadel were not subjects of her father's kingdom; they were not subject to any kingdom. They were their own society, and she was an outsider among them, the sole elf in a world of powerful mages. In this world, her lineage didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was her ability to learn, her ability to follow directives, and her ability to survive.

  Amethyst sat on her bed, putting her head in her hands. She had lost her temper again, like she was wont to do back home in Castle Lonwick. Giriraj was angry with her, that much was plain. She had no idea what would happen to her when he returned. Would he expel her? Had her outburst cost her the apprenticeship she had fought so hard to gain?

  The slamming of the door to the main chamber told her she was about to find out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  5th Waxing Sap Moon, Year 4368

  The silence following the slam of the door was almost deafening. Amethyst could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she listened, the quiet swiftly becoming oppressive. She heard footsteps approaching her door and stop outside, and she watched it from her bed. The handle twisted, the door opened, and Giriraj was standing in the entrance, not speaking.

  She sat on her bed, back against the wall, knees hugged to her chest. While Giriraj had never given her a reason to be afraid of him, she felt a twist in her stomach as he held her eyes with his.

  He stood there in silence before he said, “Are you Princess Amethyst Leonus, or are you my apprentice?”

  She stared at him. “I don't understand,” she said, confused.

  “It is a simple question. Are you Princess Amethyst Leonus, daughter of Alberic, heir to Lonwick, the future leader of the civilized lands of the west, or are you Amethyst, the apprentice to the Master of Earth, aspirant to one of the most powerful positions on Erde?”

  Still confused, she stammered, “I... those are the same person. Those are both me.”

  “Wrong!” Giriraj shouted, causing her to startle and shrink back. “One of those people is concerned with the petty honor of a royal house, and has her future wrapped in ballgowns, courtiers, and political trash, and the other has a future here, learning how to reshape the very fabric of our world into something greater than it once was!”

  He took a step into her room. “Now,” he said, his voice low, even, and tense. “Which one of those people are you?”

  “I... I don't know,” she said, her voice sounding tiny even to her ears.

&n
bsp; “I suggest you decide, and decide quickly,” said Giriraj. “If you choose to be Amethyst the Princess, I will send you back where you came from and find someone more suitable to the position. If instead, you wish to be Amethyst the Sorceress, then I will teach you how to become that person.” He held up one finger. “But know this. The choice you make will be the one I hold you to. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded, saying nothing.

  Giriraj nodded as well. “Good. I expect your answer in the morning.”

  He turned and walked out of the room. When Amethyst heard the door to his chamber close, she let out the breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding. It shuddered out of her, and she resisted the urge to cry, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She lay her head back and took a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself.

  Giriraj was right. She needed to make a decision as to which life she was going to lead.

  She sat on her bed for a long time, battling with herself. Eventually, she slipped out of her boots and crawled into bed, physically and emotionally exhausted. Tomorrow, she would need to give Giriraj her answer... perhaps she would find it while she slept.

  ~~~

  6th Waxing Sap Moon, Year 4368

  When her eyes opened, she had no idea what time it was. There were no windows in her room to gauge the hour by the sun, nor did she have a dwarven clock like in Giriraj's study at Mount Stromgard. She sat up and took a moment to compose herself, changed into clean clothes, and brushed her hair. When she felt awake enough, she stepped out of her room and into the main chamber.

  Giriraj sat on one of the couches, wearing the signature brown robe and trousers of his station for the first time that Amethyst could remember. He had a large leatherbound tome on his lap, and was writing on the pages with an ivory-handled nib pen. He did not immediately acknowledge her when she entered, so she stood nearby, waiting. He finished the page he was working on and carefully set the book on an end table next to the inkwell.

  He sat back, clasping his hands in front of him. “Well? What will it be? Princess or apprentice?”

  Amethyst took a deep breath. “I wish to remain your apprentice,” she said, measuring her words carefully. “However, I cannot completely ignore my responsibilities as the only heir of Lonwick – to do so would be unconscionable. I wish to dedicate myself to the study and practice of magic, but where possible, I must maintain contact with my father, so that he does not fear for the fall of his dynasty. Eventually, I will need to ascend to the throne.”

  The corners of Giriraj's mouth turned down slightly. “And how do you plan to balance your time between the progression of your path and the progression of your kingdom?”

  Amethyst shook her head. “That is a question I will have to answer when it becomes needful to answer it. Cedric's apprentice seems to be able to balance her time between him and her life in Valtheim, I have no doubt that I can do the same.”

  Giriraj nodded slightly. “That balancing act is costing her husband his life.”

  Amethyst stiffened slightly. “Her husband is also a very old man, according to Adrik. He has lived his life.” Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees, kneeling in front of Giriraj. “I am willing to submit myself to your tutelage, and I am willing to be your apprentice, but I must also work towards the greater good. Abandoning the future of an entire kingdom is not the greater good.”

  Giriraj took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “This is not the answer I asked you to give me,” he said, his tone slightly disappointed, “but it is a fair answer. The greater good is what most of us strive for, and it is commendable that you strive for it as well. I offer a compromise.”

  “What is the compromise?” she asked apprehensively.

  He leaned forward, his warm brown eyes boring into hers. “First, I want you to act every part of my apprentice. No more outbursts. No more arguments. None.” He wagged a finger at her. “Not even one. I will not be embarrassed by you again. In return, I will teach how to travel through the ether like we did when we came here.” He leaned back. “This will allow you to travel to your home and see your father from time to time. You will be able to use my old stronghold under the castle as your own.”

  Amethyst nodded. “I can accept those terms.”

  He held up two fingers. “Second, you will bind your magic and energies to mine. Part of the role of an apprentice is to assist their master in ritual. You have not been assisting me in rituals because you say that you are not ready.” He gave her a meaningful look. “You need to be ready. That is what being an apprentice requires.”

  Amethyst's throat went dry. “Giriraj, I don't know if I can...”

  “If you are reserved because you feel that this is because I am a lecherous old man, or that my only concerns are the carnal desires of the flesh, then you have not been paying attention,” he said, irritation in his voice. “I have many things that have been waiting to be done. I even brought in Ceara to assist me with one of my rituals, because you were unable. I need an apprentice that is able, not an apprentice that costs me favors to my rivals.”

  Hesitantly, she nodded. “I... I will do my best.”

  “Good. That is all one can do.”

  He reached out and set his hand on Amethyst's cheek. “You will find that I am not an unkind partner. However, I am a driven master. There are great things in store for you, if you can dedicate yourself fully to our craft.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb, then leaned back. “That dedication will happen tonight.”

  She bowed her head. “Yes, Master Giriraj.”

  He waved his hand, dismissing her. “Go now. Spend the day in study, rest, and reflection. Bathe yourself this evening, either here or in the public bathhouse. I will have more instructions for you before we begin.”

  Amethyst nodded. “Yes, Master,” she said again, then stood. She turned back to her chamber, and she could feel his eyes upon her as she entered her room and closed the door.

  She leaned against the solid wood planks and closed her eyes.

  This was it. Do or die. Succeed or fail. No second chances.

  ~~~

  Amethyst faced the bookshelf in her room, her back to the door. Her eyes rested on the few leatherbound volumes there, though she didn't really see them. The soft fabric of her robes rested light on her skin, belted around her middle to hold them in place. She wore no undergarments beneath them, in preparation for what she knew she must do.

  She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She had read stories where virgins were offered up for sacrifice, young women were married off at young ages to bear children for their husbands without knowing them. She had read of primitive tribes beyond the desert south of Lonwick where priests initiated priestesses into their orders by having sex with them on altars to appease their primitive gods.

  That's what this is, she told herself. It was her initiation. She tried to picture herself dressed like the girls in the stories she read, while a high priest beseeched the gods for their favor and their blessing before taking her maidenhood.

  She had heard that it would hurt, that she would feel pain, that she would bleed. She had had her first cycle almost two decades before, and had already had one this year, so she was no stranger to that, but this was different. What if he made her pregnant? What if it hurt too much for her to continue? What if he couldn't finish with her, and it was her fault?

  She shook her head. This was stupid. It was such a simple thing. From what Giriraj had told her, she wouldn't even need to do very much, just focus on the magic.

  A knock on her door pulled her out of her reverie. Giriraj was there, bare-chested as usual, wearing only his trousers, belt, and sandals. His hair was freshly cleaned and braided behind him, and his beard had been oiled and brushed as well.

  “It is time.”

  She nodded and followed him as he led her to his quarters. While not as opulent as the bedchamber on Mount Stromgard, it had a very similar aesthetic. The bed was enormous, like the one before, and
was covered in embroidered throw pillows. The blankets had been stripped off, and the air inside the chamber was warm and scented strongly with sandalwood, cedar, and pine. Incense burned in a dish nearby, lending a smoky undertone to the room, and the flames that burned in their lanterns had been turned down, dimming the room.

  He closed the door behind her. With shaking hands, she reached for the sash that belted her robe shut.

  Giriraj held up a hand. “Not yet.” Stepping past her, he lifted two goblets and handed one to her. It was very hot, almost too much to hold, and smelled strongly of licorice and sage, with hints of alcohol, like wine or something stronger.

  “Drink this, as much of it as you can.”

  Obediently, Amethyst lifted the cup to her lips and took a drink. It was almost painful to drink, and she winced but swallowed anyway. It took her three draughts, but she managed to empty the goblet. Giriraj took it from her and put it back on the table, then led her to the bed.

  Eight clusters of crystals lay on the mattress, forming the points of the octagram that represented so much; from religion, to magic, to the very structure of the energies of the world. Giriraj had her kneel near the center, across from him, resting her hands on her knees.

  “Now, Amethyst,” he said, his voice soft and quiet in the dim, smoky light, “I want you to focus – not on the power of this place, not on your element, but on yourself. Look deep into yourself, and see your own energies. Not just Earth, but the others as well. Fire, Water, Air, Creation and Destruction, Chaos and Order.”

  Closing her eyes, Amethyst took a deep breath. It seemed as though she inhaled the whole room into her chest. Her face was tingling, and her fingertips felt as though they would go numb. She pictured herself there, kneeling with Giriraj, and suddenly, everything seemed to zoom in, her perceptions focusing on the most minute particles of her very being. She could see the eight colors of the elements swirling around inside of her, coursing through her veins, her tissues, and her mind. She gasped, her eyelids almost fluttering open.

  “Feel that energy. Realize that you are one with it, and it is one with you. It is you.”