‘Are you ready?’ Anthem asked.
‘Oh, yes, yes,’ replied the illusion, and instantaneously a blast of power exploded from Anthem’s sphere, not towards the illusion as everyone expected, but directly behind, slamming the true magician to the floor.
The crowd all cried out in awe once more as the true old Grand Master was suddenly revealed, with scraps of spell and shadow falling to the floor around him. He coughed and waved his hands in front of his face as his concealment spells literally began going up in smoke.
Anthem clucked his tongue and shook his head. ‘Surely, you can do better than that? That’s the same old trick as last year!’
‘Ah,’ the other Grand Master croaked. ‘I was sure I would have you this time, you canny swine!’ And with that he climbed to his feet with the help of his walking stick and hobbled from the scene.
‘So much for Grand Master Tudor,’ Goodfellow whispered.
Anthem made a great show of yawning and the crowd laughed and cheered as the fourth of the Seven Lions stood and entered the area. He was much younger than the others, with just wisps of grey in his hair, and he appeared muscular and strong. Samuel knew him as Grand Master Gallivan.
Anthem began replenishing his magical sphere and this made Samuel think that Grand Master Gallivan must be quite powerful. Gallivan formed a very strange, twisted stance, with both his hands having their thumbs and forefingers out, as if trying to crush two large walnuts. Brilliant arcs of magic flashed into being between these fingers and the man was surrounded in a halo of white-hot light. Samuel subdued his sense of sight and watched on in awe.
‘Very nice!’ Anthem stated. ‘Such power is truly wondrous to feel. I wonder how well you can use it.’
With that, a flurry of minor spells struck at Gallivan, disintegrating harmlessly.
‘Oh, come on!’ Gallivan retorted calmly. ‘I’m not going to fall for that!’
Samuel realised these first spells had been to test Grand Master Gallivan’s mettle-like clapping your hands in someone’s face to see if they blink.
Anthem then sent much more powerful magic surging at Gallivan: a series of intense spells in quick succession that flashed towards him. Gallivan, however, easily matched each one, somehow sensing their intent and matching them with counter spells, allowing him to save his spell-shields for later in the competition. The air popped as each spell vanished from existence. When all was done and the spells had vanished, Samuel could feel that some strange magic still remained. He barely noticed at first as his sense of sight was subdued so much, but he could feel the spell just on the edge of his perception. A thin creeper of magic was stretching out from Anthem’s power sphere and snaking slowly across the floor, where it carefully latched onto Gallivan’s radiant aura.
‘How intriguing,’ Samuel muttered to himself, for the spell began sucking away at Gallivan’s strength, leeching at his magic like a parasite and sending it back into Anthem’s own magical sphere.
‘My turn,’ Gallivan said, and an enormous spell birthed before him. It almost felt as if it bore a great physical weight and Samuel’s eyes opened wide. He felt giddy for a moment and had to hold firm to his seat for fear he would fall forwards out of it.
Samuel just had time to see Anthem raise his hands to protect himself before the air transformed into a maelstrom of fire, roaring and blistering the air. All in the crowd also gasped and many stood ready to flee or else covered their faces, but the flames struck the magic barrier before them and no one could be harmed. For long moments, the scene was a hellish storm of incredible roaring fire that raced around the chamber. When the flames had slowly subsided, everyone cocked their heads or stood from their seats to try survey the scene. As the smoke slowly dissipated, Gallivan could be seen first. He had changed stances and now had his arms thrust out towards Anthem, but he was breathing quickly and his face was coated with a film of sweat. His magic was severely diminished and he looked greatly weakened.
Anthem then slowly became visible as the chamber cleared. He was shrouded by a twisting curtain of smoke. Then, by magic, the smoke fell away as if turned to dust and the old Grand Master began laughing heartily. He surprised everyone when he actually began clapping his hands.
‘Well done, Grand Master Gallivan!’ he spoke. ‘Such a great spell! I was hardly prepared. Where did you come up with that?’
Anthem’s power sphere was now larger than ever, pulsing and seething with raw magic-a good percentage of which was no doubt gained from Gallivan. It now hung above the Grand Master’s head like a huge, devilish halo and was pulsing as if with its own life.
‘I made that one especially for you,’ Gallivan responded, panting and obviously exhausted. ‘I’m just sorry it wasn’t quite what you were looking for.’
‘That was quite an impressive effort, well worthy of something in return,’ Anthem announced and he paused only momentarily to form a spell. There was a hint of sweat beading on the old man’s forehead and Samuel was relieved to see that Anthem was not totally invincible. It seemed he was finally starting to tire.
There was a strange snap in the air, as if some enormous length of wood had been cracked crisply in two, but no one else apart from Samuel seemed to have noticed it. Then, a great gasp came from the crowd as a fiery form began to appear on the floor. Its substance seemed to be gathered from the air around it; blazing flames burst from the air and gathered together more and more until a shape became apparent. It was a hound of sorts, yet somehow formed of fire itself. It had hellish red eyes and, when it snarled, fiery saliva dripped from its maw to hiss on the floor. It surveyed the scene around it slowly and deliberately. Everyone in the audience sat back in their seats nervously. A spell was set about the thing like a manacle and Samuel guessed it was to keep the creature under control, for this was no mere illusion. Such summoned things were powerful and unpredictable. It took an equally powerful spell to bind it to the summoner’s will.
Gallivan’s resolve fell apart at the sight of the creature slowly stepping towards him. ‘Very well, very well! I concede!’ he called out to Anthem, standing up straight and waving his hands in surrender. He was laughing, but with a good amount of desperation in his voice. Samuel could see that he was attempting to form some magical barriers, but his power had waned and his spells could not form true. The man now looked completely emptied.
Anthem nodded with a sly smile and released his spell. The creature at once flashed out of existence, leaving four wisps of smoke where its feet had been touching the timber floor.
Gallivan looked ready to collapse. ‘I cannot face such power,’ he stated. ‘I commend you Grand Master Anthem. You are truly great.’
‘Thank you, Grand Master Gallivan,’ Anthem returned. ‘I look forward to another challenge soon-after you get some well-needed practice.’
With that, the defeated Gallivan walked on wobbling legs back to his seat and virtually collapsed into it.
‘One more,’ Anthem called out to the audience. ‘Then we can relax and have dinner. Grand Master Du, if you will.’
The last Grand Master looked absolutely ancient. He would have been very tall, had age not bent him half-over, and he peered through a veil of long white eyebrows. His wispy white beard obscured his shirt front, and he wore a tall pointed hat, making him appear to be like a magician from some folktale. He half-hobbled on a twisted old cane that seemed entirely unsuitable for the job.
‘Very well, Grand Master,’ he spoke, with a surprisingly youthful voice. ‘Let us begin then so I can put you in your place. It’s time I showed these young fools how it’s done.’
Both seemed to know what was to come, and the two magicians stood opposite each other and began to cast their spells. Strange, knotted weaves began filling the air between the two men. It began simply like that, with each man throwing up a small spell of his own and then one to match his opponent’s. Each spell they cast was slightly greater than the last, so that the magic between them was growing in intensity and complexity. I
t was almost as if they were playing a game of spell and counter-spell.
‘The Magician’s Game,’ somebody whispered and it was passed along. Samuel nodded to himself. He had heard of this, but it was his first time to witness it.
To all around, the two magicians were motionless, but Samuel could see they were busy throwing out spell after spell to join the great conglomeration between them. More and more power filled the arena as more spells were formed and added to the sum. Some spells countered others and they both vanished, while others locked each other firmly in place. These spells remained, and their presence added to the complexity of the whole. Samuel began to realise that the entire scene was becoming two enormous opposing spells, interlocked and set to break the other. The opponents had to be quick-witted and experienced in every way, for they could not see any dangers approaching, as Samuel could, but had to depend on vast experience to sense what spells were summoned and how to match them.
Curiously, however, Samuel noted that each spell was double-cast: cast again upon itself, inside out. He had never seen such a thing and wondered why they would do it like that. Perhaps it was some secret method of the Grand Masters’ for making their spells more powerful. It must have some great purpose, for casting in such a manner was twice as slow as usual.
Quicker and quicker, the two men summoned their power and cast out spell after spell into the matrix of magic. The ancient old Grand Master Du looked almost lifeless, although his lips quivered as he murmured to himself and his fingers trembled on his cane, as if they gestured at his spells ever so slightly.
Anthem, however, began to have a slightly worried expression, and Samuel was sure he could see more sweat running down the man’s brow. His magical sphere was now only melon-sized and it was quickly diminishing.
A movement caught Samuel’s eye, and a tentacle of magic was once again creeping across the room. It affixed itself to the ancient Grand Master Du and at once began to draw out his energy. Old Anthem now bore a hint of optimism.
Some students began to yawn as time wore on, for it seemed the two old men were standing idly. Samuel, however, was fascinated by the complex battle of spells at work. Even the older Masters, content to sit at the back of the hall and chat all night, were now watching on eagerly, for this was finally something they were interested in. They could feel all the spells at work and appreciate the high degree of skill involved. They chatted enthusiastically and commented on the tactics in use. Samuel only wished he could hear what they were saying.
Then, like water spontaneously breaking through a riverbank, Grand Master Du’s spells began collapsing back towards him. Anthem’s magic destroyed each one of Grand Master Du’s spells that it touched, quicker and quicker as his spells surged forward. In the last instant, Grand Master Du yelped in effort and stepped back, using his last scraps of magic to throw up a great shielding spell that Samuel could barely have managed given a day. Anthem’s spells crashed as one into the old man’s barrier and the room boomed with thunder, causing the solid beams overhead to groan and creak. The air itself warped and shuddered as Grand Master Du was engulfed by magic. Samuel thought the frail, old man would surely be vaporised, but when the spells had all subsided, the old man merely groaned and climbed back to his feet with the aid of his cane.
‘Oh, bugger!’ the old man swore with obvious annoyance and the entire hall began laughing out loud.
Samuel was dumbfounded. Surely such power should have destroyed the old man’s body, but then he realised: the double-casting! Normally, such great magic would have destroyed any living thing, but their spells were double-cast. The second, inverse spell was a mirror image of the first, resulting in a spell that would negate itself upon realisation. In this way, two magicians could obviously play the Magician’s Game without fear of physical injury. It was ingenious!
‘Congratulations, Anthem, you scoundrel’ Grand Master Du said. ‘You beat me again! I don’t know how you do it, but I’ll best you yet one day!’ And with that he hobbled back to his seat
‘Very well,’ Anthem then said to the audience. He had released the remains of his magical sphere and it was now floating up by the ceiling where it was rapidly dissipating. ‘I hope you all learned something tonight. I trust all the new Adept will realise they don’t have long left here in the School of Magic and will apply themselves to their studies with all their fortitude. For those Adept who have graduated tonight, I want to welcome you as Masters of the Order of Magicians. You have a great responsibility upon your shoulders. The Order was founded anew at the end of the Imperial War, so that magic could become a symbol of civilisation and a tool of peace for all of Amandia. We live by the grace of our great Emperor, but remember always that magic is for the better good of man. Let us remember that magic should only be used in the defence of peace and that one magician should never use magic against another.’
With that, the shield spell around them was released and Samuel realised the graduation was over. The audience began to file outside, but Samuel’s head was full of all the spells he had seen that night. He was full of excitement and twitching to find some time alone so he could begin practising everything he could remember. Most intriguing of all was Grand Master Anthem’s devious spell of sapping. It was a truly ingenious method to beat almost any magician, even if they were more powerful. In fact, the more powerful they were, the better, as it meant there was more power for the taking. It seemed that Grand Master Anthem was truly the most powerful magician in the Empire.
CHAPTER SIX
Playing with Mage-Fire
The air was buzzing with excitement as all the graduated apprentices carried their belongings into one of the Adept bunkhouses. It was nearly a duplicate of the dormitory they had just left, yet the atmosphere was very different-it somehow felt full of maturity and dignity. While they had just left a room full of boys laughing and playing games, here, solemn faces inspected their new roommates thoughtfully.
Samuel dropped his bundle onto a tightly made bed and sat on its edge, testing its properties. He separated his belongings and placed them into the sturdy drawers on the floor. He had a drawer for each category of items-clothes, study materials, personal effects-whereas, in the apprentice dormitory, he had only had one modest chest for everything. He then lay back and sighed, watching the dust motes glide gently through the beams of light overhead. Everything felt like it was falling into place.
Lessons began again early the very next day and, as they filed out of the school behind Master Glim, a group of wide-eyed youngsters-new apprentices still in their colourful attire from the outside world-wandered in, gawking in marvel at their new surrounds. Samuel wondered if he had looked that foolish when he had first come to the school. He remembered the looks all the old Masters had given him on that first day-no doubt he had.
Master Glim led them on a long walk out of the city near to a quiet farmhouse on the north bank of the Bardlebrook River, far from the calls and noises of the city. The sound of fishing nets slapping the water was the only noise to pester them, along with the occasional grunts of the fishermen pulling them back in, rocking about in their tiny boats. Master Glim took them through many of the fundamental summoning stances, demonstrating the most effective ways to shift from one to another. Some students were better suited to certain stances, while other stances suited different situations, or even moods of the magician. It was all very mundane for Samuel, as they had done it many times, yet, as always, he followed closely. He felt he was virtually perfect at the twenty-eight stances-he could feel the weaves of power running along his skin and through his bones-but he was always aware that he could align himself slightly better still and draw a few last remnants of magic from the ether, or move more quickly, more efficiently. There was always something for him to improve.
‘Move into Waterfall Stance,’ Master Glim then instructed. He made a few comments to some of the lagging students; then he continued, assuming the position himself for all to see. Waterfall Stance was a tall sta
nce, with the legs straight and together and the arms lifted high above, as if reaching up to fetch something from a high shelf. ‘Now, observe.’ And he lifted one leg high, bent at the knee. One arm came down to point straight ahead. Samuel could see the aura around him shimmer upon reaching this new position and move more quickly, as if agitated. ‘Waterfall Stance can become a focussing stance, Bowman Stance, very easily. It is much better for casting spells, especially those that must be cast at a distance.’
With that, everyone followed his example. He led them through all the summoning stances again and showed them a focussing variation of each. Each one had some benefit or purpose. Dragon Stance could become Breathing Dragon Stance, for fire-based spells, or Flying Dragon Stance, for spells of quickness, or Enlightened Dragon Stance for divination. They practised long and hard on that day, their very first day as Adept. Samuel had been hoping there would be more of a change than just his title, and he was not disappointed. He was pleased to learn that their education would accelerate even further from this point on. They would learn spells and methods reserved only for those students who had passed their apprenticeship and had proven their dedication to the Order of Magicians.
It was nearly dark when they returned, haggard and weary, through the school gates. They passed the curious eyes of the newly arrived students, who were all tripping over themselves and adjusting their uncomfortable new clothes of black. Samuel remembered his first day and smiled. It was an impressionable time, those early days in the school, and Master Glim reminded them all to act as examples, to teach the new apprentices the fine calibre of performance and behaviour that was expected at the School of Magic.
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