They were both catapulted into the air and flew up to the tenth floor. Just as they passed the door for their floor, the burst of air stopped and a net extended out to catch them. Emily stood up and was greeted by a stone walkway that had extended out from under the door to their position. They both stepped onto the walkway and were about to move forward when the walkway slid back toward the door, taking them with it. The door opened as they approached and the walkway tilted up slightly, encouraging both of them to step forward through the large door. Inside the room, there were several chairs, a desk, a bed, a large fireplace, a mirror, a dinner table, and a table made for all manner of magical creations. An older looking Wizard was sitting in the largest of the chairs and beckoned for them to come and sit with him. His hair was grayer than in the portrait below, his skin was haggard, and his beard was a few inches longer.
“What brings you to the Carmalian Conclave?” He asked as they approached.
“I am Princess Emily of Galimdor. My father ordered an attack on the Conclave in Galimdor. I fled here and was chased by one of his Knights of Doom. This man saved my life. His name is Paul.” Emily said as she took a seat across from Rolin.
“Ah yes, Emily. This is troubling news. Melcorn mentioned that he thought you were one of the visitors. I fear that you will find us quite unprepared to deal with a situation like this.” Rolin stood up.
“Is not the council meeting here later this week? Should we not propose a counterstrike?” Emily asked.
“Aye, the council will be in session, or at least the gathering will occur. We have yet to decide if we are creating a council. As for a counterstrike, how would you propose we mount such an assault?” Rolin paced back and forth as he thought about the situation.
“The southern kingdoms will surely side with us. They have no love for my father.”
“Yes, but they have no love for wizards either. How do you propose we recruit them?” Rolin stroked his beard and looked at Paul.
“I’m afraid I have nothing to add to this conversation,” Paul said, looking somewhat uncomfortable with Rolin’s stare.
“Now is hardly the time to discuss such matters. Come, we must prepare to meet the other Archwizards. Was Owyn able to make it out alive?” Rolin directed the question toward Emily.
“He was killed with the others, I saw it with my own eyes.” Emily wiped a tear from her eye as she spoke.
Rolin nodded as if to say he expected as much. Paul was about to stand up when Rolin held up his hand and shook his head. The Archwizard took a seat and rolled up his sleeves. He took a deep breath and raised his hands in the air. Paul grabbed the arms of the chair and began looking back and forth between Emily and Rolin as the chairs started to rock back and forth. Emily smiled as the room began to spin and fade. She held back a laugh as Paul grabbed the arms even tighter. Everything stopped spinning, and they found themselves in a different room that had a large table with several robed figures sitting at it. Rolin moved his hands forward, sliding the three chairs into place at the table.
“I see that you have all made it here safely. Excellent, we shall begin shortly,” Rolin said, acknowledging those gathered.
“We seem to be missing one, Rolin. I hope your mind is not slipping with age,” One of the Wizards said.
“Ah yes, the Galimdorian Conclave was attacked and Owyn gave his life trying to save his students. I fear that Emily is the only survivor.” Rolin motioned toward Emily as he spoke.
“This is grave news. Was it an isolated attack or should we prepare for more?” One of the others, a female named Janessa, asked.
“I didn’t even know my father was capable of attacking our enclave. There is no telling what else he might do. Even if there is no evidence of an impending attack, I would think it wise to prepare yourselves for the worst,” Emily held back tears as she spoke.
“Your father’s actions are no fault of yours, nor do they sully your name. I don’t know the circumstances between the two of you, but he is the one who has failed as a father and a King,” Paul said as he reached his hand out and placed it on Emily’s forearm.
“As much as we need to discuss the topic of Galimdor, I am afraid there are other things that need to be addressed first. With the death of Owyn, our numbers are now even. As per the rules set forth by our predecessors, we must either assign another Archwizard or demote one,” Janessa said.
“First we must see to it that Paul becomes a member of our order, if he so desires,” Rolin said, looking to Paul for his reply.
“I am willing, if that is what must be done.” Paul glanced at those gathered around the table.
“It is decided then. Emily, why don’t you accompany Paul while we discuss the matters of the council,” Rolin suggested.
She nodded and rose from her seat. Paul got up as well, looking to Emily for his next move. She smiled and bowed to those gathered before turning to leave. The room had one door that led to one of the middle floors of the tower. This floor was significantly larger than the others, which seemed impossible due to the tower’s size from the outside. Must be enchanted, she thought as she waited for Paul to join her. The floor was similar to the courtyard in that there were dozens of students practicing magic. These students seemed to be significantly less advanced than those in the courtyard. Several of the teachers stopped what they were doing and watched Emily and Paul.
“Is there something you need?” One of them asked.
“My friend here is being instated into the order. We need to know where to go to finalize it,” Emily said, motioning toward Paul.
“That is good news. Floor two, left hallway, second door on the left.”
Emily thanked the man and led Paul to another of the air chambers. This time she pressed the button and they plummeted down toward the ground level. They were caught once again, but this time there was no net. They were suspended in midair on what felt like the same net as before, but they could not see it. The door slid open and they found themselves slowly moving toward it. As before, they were lightly thrown into their destination room. This floor consisted of two long hallways that looped around and connected somewhere far off. They turned to the left and entered the second door they came across. Inside they found several mages perusing through massive tomes. The room itself looked like a small library. Much to their surprise, the room seemed to expand as they came closer to the mages.
“You must be Emily and Paul.” One of the older mages looked up from his book.
“That’s us,” Emily replied.
“Please, let Paul do the talking. This is part of his acceptance test.”
“Do I have to write an essay or something?” Paul asked, not expecting a straight answer.
“Ah, we have a bit of a feisty one. Good, we like that here in Carmalia. Your first test is to conjure a fireball. Before you begin, I think it appropriate that we leave the books behind.” The man motioned for Paul and Emily to follow him through the center aisle of the library.
“Why don’t we just teleport to our destination?” Emily asked as they followed the man through the labyrinth of bookshelves.
“Rolin might find teleportation a favorable form of transportation, but we here in the library feel that a brisk walk serves the soul better than even the books on these shelves.”
The Wizard led them to a small chamber made of stone. There were no windows or torches, but the room was still well lit by an unknown source. The amount of magic used just to run the Conclave was staggering to Emily. Galimdor had several tricks and interesting things at their Conclave, but nothing was on par with the Carmalian Conclave. Paul leaned back against the wall and watched as the Wizard made his way into the middle of the room. The man was mumbling to himself as he glanced around the chamber. He raised his arms and pointed them toward one of the walls. A small line formed on the wall and then a portion of the wall below the line slid down to make a window.
“We were never properly introduced, my name is Thaddeus. Please, show us what you are cap
able of.” Thaddeus moved out of the center of the room.
Paul stepped forward and planted his feet squarely under his shoulders. He took a deep breath and lifted his hands into the air. The moisture was sapped out of the air as fire came out of the tips of Paul’s fingers. It grew into a small ball of fire that sat in his palm. He held it out in front of Thaddeus as if to check and make sure it was what he was looking for. The mage seemed impressed as he nodded to Paul. Emily smiled at Thaddeus’ reaction. Even though it was enough for the others, it wasn’t enough for Paul. He thrust his hands toward the window and the fireball grew to an even larger size before shooting out the window. As it flew through the air, Paul continued to exert his control over it, sending it flying in loops and corkscrews. The fireball lit up the entire night sky, fascinating several onlookers.
“Most impressive! Let’s see what you can do with the other basic elements,” Thaddeus said as he stepped forward.
“Something like this?” Paul asked, holding a small tornado in his palm.
“What else?” The wide-eyed mage asked.
Paul brought up his other hand and a small wave formed in his other palm. He slapped his hands together and the tornado jumped out around him, circling just outside of his reach. The water at the bottom of the tornado slowly rose up and joined into the midst of the raging tornado. As the water tornado grew, Paul opened his hands again and thrust his arms into the air. The water began to freeze around him, creating a large cone of ice. He created giant slabs of stone around himself and the others to protect them before shattering the ice. The slabs of stone slid back into the floor. Thaddeus was clapping, and Emily was amazed. She had never seen anyone of that skill who was untrained by a Conclave.
“Where have you learned these skills?” Thaddeus asked as he led them back into the library.
“My father made a deal with a mage when I was younger. He would teach me magic in exchange for my father keeping it all a secret. What better place for a magician to hide than a blacksmith’s shop?” Paul answered.
“Interesting, did the man ever explain what sect of mages he was from?”
“Cornelius never spoke of his past. That was the only topic that he forbade discussion of. In fact, I knew so little about him that I’m not even sure Cornelius was his real name.”
Thaddeus shrugged and continued leading them through the library. The other mages were busy at work examining the tomes for some piece of arcane knowledge that had been missed by previous readers. Rolin instilled in his pupils a thirst for knowledge that was rivaled by few. They were encouraged to pursue the lore from ages past as well as build upon it with newer thoughts and approaches. The Carmalian Conclave was a head above the rest in their knowledge of magic, due in no small part to Rolin’s policies. Among the Wizards, there were two competing schools of thought at this time. The more traditional school felt that you needed to learn specific practices and building upon only those practices. Rolin held strongly to his opinion that all forms of magic built off each other. Thaddeus stopped and explained something to one of the other librarians before leading the two out into the hallway.
“We’ll head to the initiation chambers and get you your robes and a decent staff. Rolin prefers that when we travel, we do it armed.” Thaddeus explained as he led them toward the air chamber.
“I’ve got a sword, I don’t think I’ll need the staff. Thank you,” Paul replied.
“I’m afraid Rolin insists. In fact, he even instructed me to get Emily one as well.”
“I assure you, Thaddeus, that is not necessary. I am honored that Rolin would be so kind, but I prefer to stick to magic when my life is in danger.” Emily tried her best to decline the offer in a respectful manner.
*
Arcantos mumbled under his breath as he raised his hand to hail the Holy Order gatekeeper. He brushed the dirt off his cloak as he waited for the Holy Order’s envoy to come and greet him. The massive gate opened, and a smaller man in robes approached Arcantos, he was flanked by two tall men in plate armor. Their armor glistened in the sun, and they stood without fear. The smaller man held up his hand, telling the other two to hang back while he greeted the stranger. It seemed odd to Arcantos that this man would elect to confront him without his escort.
“Hail friend. What brings you to the gates of the Holy Order?” The man asked.
“I seek an audience with your leader on behalf of Galimdor and its King.” Arcantos bowed after he spoke.
“Ah yes, your King sent a messenger not too long ago. I don’t believe we were properly introduced, I am Brother Timothy.” The monk extended his hand to Arcantos.
“I am Arcantos, advisor to the King. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Arcantos could barely bring himself to shake the man’s hand.
The two exchanged small talk as they entered the courtyard of the Holy Order’s stronghold. It was unlike anything Arcantos had seen. From outside, the fortress looked large, but its true size was lost on anyone who had not seen it from the inside. The fifty foot tall, twenty foot deep, outer wall was dwarfed by the inner wall. Arcantos estimated it to be at least seventy-five feet in height. This wall was even smaller than the massive keep at the center of the complex. The height of which was well over one hundred feet. Just the keep by itself was larger than most of the towns in the Southern Kingdoms. Only Galimdor could compare to the Holy Order’s fortress. The differences in the two castles were startling. Where Galimdor housed a Wizard’s Conclave, The Fortress of the Light housed the largest cathedral that Arcantos had ever laid eyes upon. Galimdor was a town within a castle, but the Fortress was a bastion of strength. Within the fortress, there were no houses and exceedingly few shops. The Fortress housed numerous barracks, seven cathedrals, ten blacksmith shops, a larger grocer, and a bazaar.
“I had not heard there was a bazaar in the Fortress of Light. This surprises me,” Arcantos said as they passed through the stalls.
“The bazaar is the only area in which the Holy Order permits outsiders to stay, except for special guests and diplomats, of course. We must spread our light to the world somehow, Arcantos. We find that the best manner in which to do so is to let others examine us in our everyday lives. The bazaar brings people from all across the continent, it is our hope that the light stays with them when they leave.” The monk seemed to be aiming his words at Arcantos, as opposed to those who visited the bazaar.
The reply made Arcantos even more uncomfortable. He knew the King had sent him as a showing of power. As leader of the Knights of Doom, being sent on such an assignment showed that they still bowed to his will. Even in such matters as dealing with one of their sworn enemies. The keep in the center of the stronghold was even more imposing than it looked from far. It was, however, the cathedral that fueled Arcantos’ fear. The Crusaders of Hope, a smaller group within the Holy Order, was dedicated to stamping out the Knights of Doom. Their name and sole purpose both came as a direct result of the actions of the Knights of Doom some years ago. He let out of sigh of relief as they entered the keep.
Inside the keep was more impressive than outside the keep. The entry led directly to the Holy Order’s version of a throne room. As it was not a monarchy, there was not a King. They had two heads of their faction: the Grand Cleric and the Grand Crusader, together they came up with the rules by which the order operated. On either side of the two were the Grand Champions. Each one of them decked out in gold-plated armor. Neither the Grand Cleric nor the Grand Crusader wore armor while in the keep except when it came under attack. They differentiated themselves in action and in the way they dressed. Though not as regal as the Kings of other Kingdoms, they still dressed as many nobles would. The Grand Cleric rose to greet Arcantos.
“Greetings, servant of Galimdor. The Grand Cleric and I welcome you to our stronghold,” The Grand Crusader rose and accompanied the Cleric to greet their guest.
“It is an honor, your greatness. I am but a humble servant of the King and his people. We wish to strike an alliance with you against the ev
il magic using Southern Kingdoms.” A majority of the onlookers turned their attention to Arcantos as he spoke.
“Does not the Kingdom of Galimdor have a Conclave of their own? Does not the Kingdom of Galimdor consort with the Knights of Doom?” The Grand Cleric asked.
“Archwizard Owyn attempted to assassinate the King, and we dealt with his assault appropriately. The Conclave has now been outlawed in Galimdor. As for the Knights of Doom, the King does not admit to having anything to do with them. They may claim to be fighting for Galimdor, but we have no ties to them.” The intricate web of lies woven by Arcantos was so masterfully delivered that those listening instantly found themselves believing him.
“You have already dealt with the mages in question, I do not see why you rush to attack the other Conclaves. It would be much wiser for us to send our inquisitors to inspect them on a case by case basis. We excel at finding mages who abuse their gift.” The Cleric’s eyes narrowed as he approached Arcantos.
“One of the Galimdorian mages escaped. She is highly dangerous, and we expect she will seek the other Conclaves for assistance and asylum. We cannot allow this. If she were to return to Galimdor, a large portion of the people would side with her. Our people deserve better.”
“We shall send out troops to assist you, but know that we will be dealing with the magic users as we see fit.” The Grand Crusader gave Arcantos a stern look.
“I accept your terms. Though it is not what we had hoped for, we will defer to you when it comes to the magicians. I’m afraid that I must take my leave of you. The King will want to hear the good news.” Arcantos bowed to the two menacing figures.
The Wizard's Council Page 2