Making of a Magister

by Frank David

  “My mother fears she will spend the night in the dungeons,” Harris laughed.

  “Harris!” Mary reprimanded.

  “I am sure that will not be the case, Mrs. Morrison. I could not imagine any reason the night would end in such a manner.” Stela smiled as she approached Mary. She leaned in and kissed her on each cheek.

  “Please, call me Mary, Majesty. I mean Stela.” Mary was becoming nervous again.

  “Why do you tremble? Surely, I am not putting you ill at ease?” Stela studied the woman’s face.

  “I apologize, Stela. My wife is worried. She fears she will say or do the wrong thing. She is afraid we will make fools of ourselves.” Greg looked at his wife who gave him a disgusted glance.

  “Mary, you are among family. There is nothing to fear here. I wish to make you all comfortable. Please know that from today you are my family, as you are Harris’s.” Stela smiled and took Mary’s hand. An image flashed. She could not make it out. She took the woman’s hand again. Mary had seen the image as well. “You are of Imperial blood,” Stela announced. “We are truly family.” Stela’s smile widened.

  “Stela, you must be mistaken,” Harris responded. He could see by Stela’s face she was not.

  “No, your mother and I, we share an ancestor. Emperor Cedric, if I am not mistaken.” Stela looked at Mary, waiting for a response.

  “She is correct,” the voice echoed. “Your mother is of Imperial blood. The great granddaughter of Cedric’s bastard daughter.”

  “Why am I not surprised you are here?” Stela said as she turned to greet Braynard.

  “How did you know, Stela?” Harris looked confused.

  “It is a new gift,” Braynard answered. “It seems she is learning new abilities. She can read a person’s blood, see their connections.”

  “I made your mother aware of this connection last evening but swore her to secrecy. It would seem your mother is a trustworthy soul. She was tempted to share the information with you on your ride to Rothmar but kept silent instead. I am proud of her.” Braynard smiled at Mary as he joined them.

  “Does this mean I too will receive a gift?” Brett’s eyes were wide with excitement.

  “It is possible, young one. Not all powers are as obvious as your brother’s. Your mother’s gift is more passive, like Stela’s new talent.” Braynard moved toward the boy. “Yes, I can feel it. Strength is your gift.” Braynard laughed.

  “Strength?” Brett asked.

  “You have great strength within you. You only need to use it.” Braynard looked at the thrones. “Do you mind if I let the boy test his gift, Stela?”

  She nodded.

  “Go lift the throne,” Braynard commanded.

  “I cannot lift the throne. It must weigh 300 pounds.” Brett looked at him with suspicion.

  “You can, and you will. Give it a try.” Braynard motioned him forward.

  Brett approached the throne. As he touched it, he realized the throne was not constructed of wood but metal. “It is too heavy, it is solid metal.”

  “Just try. Do not doubt yourself,” the Scientia ordered.

  Brett grabbed each arm of the throne. He lifted it as if it were but a feather. He lowered it with a loud clang. Brett’s face filled with a wide smile.

  “See I told you, strength is your gift.” Braynard smiled as the boy joined them. “I am afraid I must bid you all good evening. Enjoy the life that lies ahead of you,” he smiled at Mary as he vanished.

  “Where did he go?” Brett asked.

  “You will get used to it. He seems to come and go as he pleases. He shows up when he is needed and vanishes just as quickly,” Harris laughed.

  “Yes, you never know when he will show so you always expect him.” Stela’s brow raised.

  “I do not know if Harris has told you, but I plan to grant you an Imperial title. Knowing you are, in fact, a descendant of an Emperor, it is not so farfetched.” Stela moved forward to sit upon her throne. She gestured for her guests to sit as well. “Tomorrow, at court, I will make it official. As the bloodline is yours, Mary, I will bestow the title upon you.” She looked down at her hands, contemplating her decision for title. “I have decided to grant you the title of Imperial Archduchess of Carlisle. It is a title previously held by my dear cousin, Rupert. It will allow you to be close to Harris. I have allowed the duchy to remain vacant since Rupert’s death, but I believe he would be pleased with my decision to hand it to you.” Stela smiled softly.

  “Do we get a palace?” Brett asked. Mary gave him a disapproving look.

  “You do not ask such questions, Brett,” she scolded.

  “You do,” Stela laughed. “Dortham Manor is the home of the title. Renovations have been completed. When my cousin received the manor, it was in some disrepair, but it is a fine home now. It is in the city of Woodbridge, less than a day’s travel from Rothmar. I believe you will all be quite happy.” Stela knew it was time to let the duchy go but the decision was still difficult.

  Brett’s smile could hardly be contained. “Who will be mother’s heir? I assume it will be Harris, as he is the oldest.” His smile turned to a frown upon the realization.

  “It would be your brother, but your mother is able to name you, if she so desires. How old are you, Brett?” Stela had an idea.

  “I am almost sixteen,” he responded.

  “Would you like your own title? And palace?” Woodbridge has not had an Imperial Grand Duke since Samuel was killed. She knew it would make Brett happy. He was of an age where he should be married and starting his own family.

  “Could I?” Brett’s voice squeaked. He looked at his mother. Her face showed her disapproval.

  “You are too young to be on your own,” Mary commented, trying to hide any tone.

  “The title I am considering for Brett would allow him to stay with you at Dortham until you believe he is fit to be on his own. The Imperial Grand Duke of Woodbridge is vacant since the death of Samuel Roberts. Sutton Estate is the new home of the title.” Stela was ready to leave the pain of the past behind and move forward.

  “Mother, please,” Brett pleaded. “I am almost sixteen. The Imperial Princess Royal, Sofia was married by this age and pregnant with…” Brett stopped himself knowing the blunder he had committed. “I am sorry Stela.”

  Stela smiled, “It is fine. My sister and I have mended our relationship and I adore my niece, Layla. You are correct, Sofia was married at fifteen. I suppose we need to consider a proper match for you.” Stela looked at Mary, who seemed to disapprove of the idea of marriage for her youngest son. “I know the thought of giving up your son is difficult. I just recently sent my oldest son, Joseph, to Xasha. He is to be their new Emperor. We must know when it is time to let them be free.” Stela’s eyes lowered. She missed her son already.

  “Joseph left for Xasha?” Harris was unaware of recent events.

  “Yes, Empress Consort Lena’s daughter did not survive long after her birth.” Stela showed little emotion at the admission. “Roderick will be Joseph’s regent in Xasha, as per Braynard.”

  “Stela,” Brett’s voice was soft and unsure. “If I were to have a say in who my wife might be, I do have an idea.”

  “You fancy someone,” Stela laughed. “Imperial marriage does not work that way. Matches are made for strategic purposes, but who is it you are interested in?”

  “Lady Samantha of Raamsfeld,” Brett blushed.

  “Your brother’s sister?” Stela could not contain her amusement. “I could speak to Frederick about the arrangement. He is not one who offers his daughters. Both of his daughters should have had arranged marriages upon their births, but he refused to commit to any suggestions. I do believe the great, great grandson of an Emperor would be an appropriate pairing.”

  “I do not think Lady Elizabeth would agree with the arrangement,” Mary spoke up. “She is not fond of me. I do not see her agreeing to her daughter marrying my son.”

  “Has Lady Elizabeth done something to offend you, or hur
t you in any way?” Stela sat up. If Mary had somehow been offended, she would see to it that Elizabeth was punished.

  “No, she was polite enough. I am the woman who gave her husband a bastard child. Her distaste for me is understood.” Mary lowered her eyes, a sense of shame rushed through her as she said the words.

  “Mary, know this, should anyone insult you or make you feel inferior because of your actions nearly twenty years ago, you only need tell me and I will deal with the offender. You are to be my family and with that comes a certain level of respect.” Stela stood and walked toward Mary. She lifted her head to look in the woman’s eyes. “Never lower your head to anyone. You are of Imperial blood.”

  “Thank you, Majesty.” Mary smiled.

  “The night is growing late. Tomorrow is a big day for you all. I believe we could all do with some sleep. This time tomorrow you will be the newest Imperials of the realm.” She smiled at them as she moved toward Harris. “In a week’s time, you will be Emperor Consort.” She took Harris’ arm as he led them out of the Throne Room.

  Chapter Fourteen – Charity

  Chris sat watching his boys practicing their drills. The two were becoming gifted swordsmen. He looked up as the maid entered the room.

  “She is doing it again, Highness,” the woman said.

  “Where this time?” Chris rubbed his head.

  “She was seen in the garden.” The maid could not bring herself to look at him.

  “How many saw her?” Chris whispered not wishing for his sons to hear.

  “The gardeners.”

  “Thank you.” Chris gestured to dismiss her. He looked back at his boys who had stopped their drills.

  “What is wrong with mother?” Gage asked.

  “I do not know,” Chris said as he stood, “But I will find out.”

  ****

  Charity walked the gardens behind Suffort Palace. She held his arm tight as they talked. She had become obsessed with spending time with him.

  “What is it like?” she asked.

  “What is what like?”

  “We have spent so much time together, but you never talk of what it is like. Are you and Calvin together there as well?” Charity leaned against him.

  “Ah, that. The stories we are told of the afterlife are not exactly true. There is no heaven or hell, there is just a different existence. I see Samuel often as well.” Rupert showed little emotion.

  “You have to see Samuel? Does that not anger you?” Charity’s face showed her disapproval.

  “It is odd. I have no hate toward him. We have talked in length about what brought about that night. He was a pawn. He was a simple man in life, easily moved. The man who forced his hand is the true villain,” Rupert paused.

  “Who forced his hand?” Charity stopped and turned to her cousin. “Where is this man? He should face justice.”

  “The man is everywhere,” Rupert laughed. “He is justice, Charity. The man holds all our lives in his hand. We are a game to him.”

  “Rupert, I think it is time you leave,” the voice came from behind them.

  “As you wish,” Rupert said as he vanished.

  “You are the man,” Charity accused, turning to see Braynard.

  “Your cousin is delusional, Charity,” Braynard said taking her arm.

  “No, he is right. You have been involved in everything that has occurred since Stela took the throne. Why did Rupert have to die?” Charity took her arm from him.

  “There is so much at play. You do not understand what is at stake. Rupert was consecrated to Diana when he was a baby. He was one of hers. I could not allow one so close to Stela to be tied to her.” Braynard offered his arm once again. “I would like to explain it all to you.”

  Chris entered the garden and saw Charity walking with a man. She was not alone. The palace staff had been reporting her strange behavior to him daily. They said they heard her alone in her room laughing or arguing but when they entered no one was with her. The rumors of her odd conduct had reached Helmsley. He was sure it would not be long before all Jascaessau knew.

  “Charity,” Chris called out to the two.

  “I must be going. Your husband is not pleased. I do not wish to be present for this conversation.” Braynard bowed and vanished.

  “Chris, what are you doing here? He was just about to tell me everything.” The blood rushed to her face.

  “Who were you talking to?” Chris asked as he reached his wife.

  “Braynard,” Charity responded, still hot with anger at his interruption.

  “Who were you talking to before the Scientia?”

  “Rupert,” Charity responded.

  “Charity, he is gone. You need to stop this.” Chris fought the desire to grab his wife.

  “He is not gone. He is with me,” Charity turned and moved from her husband.

  “He has been dead nearly a year. When will you let him go? People are starting to talk. They see you wandering the streets of Helmsley talking to yourself. The staff hear you talking in your room to no one.” Chris chased after her.

  “He is not gone. He visits me, I must only call for him. I do not understand why others cannot see him. Stela saw him.” Tears began to fill her eyes. “He will never be gone. Why do you insist that I forget him?”

  “I do not insist you forget him, simply stop this charade. He is not with you. He does not visit you or talk with you. I fear you are not well. The boys are worried about you, as well.” He grabbed Charity and held her tight. He feared his wife was losing her mind. The death of her cousin had impacted her more than he had realized.

  “We will go see Stela. She will tell you she too saw him, proving I am not insane.” Charity pushed him back.

  “Fine, we will visit Stela. If she admits that she has seen Rupert, I will ignore your behavior. If, however, she denies seeing him, you will stop this at once. Is that understood?” Chris grabbed her and dragged her toward the palace.

  “You are hurting me. Leave me!” she screamed freeing herself from his grasp.

  “She is not crazy, Chris.” The voice was immediately familiar to him. He would not turn to face the voice. “It is her gift. She misses me and I her. We spend our time reminiscing – reliving happier times. I am sorry that I have not allowed the others to see me, but I feared their reaction. I was not well liked in life. I fear I would be even more hated if they saw me in death.”

  “How is this possible?” He turned slowly to see Rupert standing behind him. “It is the work of evil. You are not Rupert but some demon trying to bewitch my wife.”

  “I assure you, it is me. Even demons would not impersonate me,” Rupert laughed. “Besides, contrary to popular belief, demons do not exist. They are a creation of man’s own fear and inability to explain the unexplainable.”

  “Leave my wife,” Chris demanded. “She cannot handle your presence.”

  “Do not pretend to know what I can and cannot handle. I cannot handle the doubt you hold. My mind is not lost, as you can see.” Charity rushed to Rupert.

  “Rupert, please leave us.” Chris could not bring himself to look at Rupert’s face. “I wish to speak with my wife in private.”

  “There is no privacy, Chris. The dead can see and hear everything. I do mean everything,” Rupert laughed.

  “Do not leave, Rupert.” Charity held his arm. “Braynard was about to tell me everything before Chris interrupted us. He said you were dedicated to Diana. Is that true?”

  “Yes. It is the reason he convinced Samuel to kill me. It seems he and the Goddess share a great hatred for one another. Do not waste your energy on him. He is doing what is best for Saaveth. You do not see it, but I have seen what may be if Stela is not successful. It is a future you do not want for your children. Diana proclaims to be a Goddess, but she is a false deity. She was a creation that should not have been allowed to live. She seeks to destroy the four realms – vengeance for what Declan did to her son. It is her single focus, to destroy the children of Braynard.”

>   “Children of Braynard?” Charity did not understand.

  “We are the children of Braynard,” Rupert admitted.

  “Braynard told me the Imperials were the children of God?” Charity remember the explanation he had provided so long ago.

  “Yes, Charity, we are. Braynard is God.” Rupert turned. “I must go. I have said more than he wished for me to share. There is more to Stela than you know. Watch her closely and you will figure it out.” With that the figure faded from sight.

  “I am sorry, Charity. I should have believed you.” Chris stood dumbfounded.

  “I must go see Stela,” Charity said as she rushed toward the palace.

  Chris remained, alone in the garden, trying to digest all that had been revealed.

  Charity reached the doors. She opened them to find Braynard standing on the other side.

  “I am sorry, my dear. I cannot allow you to share your knowledge with Stela.” Braynard raised his hand and placed it on Charity’s forehead. Charity collapsed.

  Chris saw what was happening and rushed to his wife. As he approached the two, he collapsed.

  They both woke several hours later unaware of what had transpired. The memory of what Rupert had shared was gone. Braynard’s secret was again protected.

  Chapter Fifteen – Joseph

  Felicia stood on deck. She could see Xasha in the distance. She figured it would only be about another day until they reached shore. The trip had been uneventful. Joseph spent most of his days worrying about what was to become of him in his new homeland. Sofia tried to ease his mind. Felicia would do what she could, but she feared she lacked the maternal instincts that seemed to allow Sofia to be supportive.

  She felt the arm on hers. Sofia had joined her. She put her arm around Sofia and pulled her close.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “No, I think he is safe,” Sofia responded. “The sailors seem more focused on you and me, then Joseph,” she laughed.

  “They are wise to keep those thoughts to themselves. I have never manned a ship before, but would kill them all if necessary to protect you.” Felicia kissed Sofia on her head.