The Guardian's Apprentice (Beyond the Veil)

by J. Michael Radcliffe

  Walking over to where Keegan was standing, Acamar crossed his arms and looked down at the young man from over the tops of his glasses. “I knew you would be difficult to convince, so your grandfather instructed me to show you a few things. First, look closely at the family ring passed down to you upon the death of your father.” He nodded towards Keegan’s right hand on which he wore the signet ring delivered to him so mysteriously several years ago.

  Keegan glanced down at the ring, not quite knowing what to expect. He remembered how the stone had begun to glow earlier and how he had been unable to remove the ring from his hand.

  “Have you noticed anything different about it lately?”

  “Well…”

  “Yes?”

  Keegan felt foolish. He was standing in the middle of a hedge maze talking to a stranger dressed in black robes. Furthermore, the stranger had shown up in the form of a cat and then told him he should come to another dimension to talk with his dead grandfather.

  “It was glowing. The stone was glowing earlier today,” he finally said feeling like a complete fool for saying it aloud.

  “Is that all?”

  “Not exactly. It started itching and when I tried to pull the ring off my finger it wouldn’t budge.”

  Acamar smiled. “Master Whitestone awakened your ring from its long slumber. It is intertwined with your spirit and destiny; that’s why you couldn’t remove it earlier.”

  Keegan examined his ring more closely, not knowing what to say with this new revelation.

  “Look closely at the shield etched into the stone; do you see the two circles intertwined? Those represent our two realities or worlds, and the Veil that separates them. That ring was forged over one thousand years ago, just after the Great Council was first convened. They selected three families, one each from the three different sects of wizards; the color of your stone indicates the particular order to which your family belonged. They were white for Good, grey for Neutral and finally Black, which represented dark magic. Master Whitestone, the current Guardian, was recently elected by the Council to ascend to the leadership position of Chancellor. As the last surviving member of this family’s bloodline you are the heir apparent, or apprentice apparent as it were.”

  “So, now you’re telling me I’m a wizard?” asked Keegan in disbelief.

  “No,” sighed the older man. “Merely that you have the potential to become one. That somewhere, deep down inside you resides a core of magic that has been long dormant. Given some time and the proper tutelage, you will hopefully master the skills that lie somewhere within.”

  “So what does the ‘Guardian’ do? How does the Blackstar amulet work?” asked Keegan.

  “Alas, dear boy, that is not up to me to explain. My task is simply to bring you before the Council. They will explain further and set out to educate you in your responsibilities.” Provided they don’t dice you up into little bits and feed you to one of the couriers, of course, thought the old wizard to himself.

  Acamar took out a pocket watch and glanced at the time. Turning to Keegan, he said, “Our time is drawing to a close. We must be off now to the Council; they are not ones to be kept waiting by a mere apprentice-to-be.”

  Looking at the large, imposing man in front of him, Keegan thought about what Acamar just told him. This is all ridiculous, there is no such thing as magic. He wished there was – more than anyone could know. He had always loved reading fantasy novels when he was a kid, reading about magic and dragons, elves and faeries. Then he grew up and reality set in, banishing his dreams to the darkness of the past.

  Acamar smiled at Keegan with what appeared to be pity.

  “You don’t have much to lose, you know. You can always tell your boss you were taken to hospital because of food poisoning.”

  Keegan sighed, crossing his arms and looking up at the wizard.

  “Oh, what the hell. I’m in a dead end job anyway. How do we get to this Council of yours?” he asked.

  “Easy. You open a gateway and we step through.”

  “I what?”

  “You open a gateway. It is a portal, which allows us to cross through the Veil. Your scientists would probably call it a ‘wormhole’ or some other fanciful scientific name; to us it is simply a gateway or portal to our world. Mind you, portals are very closely regulated by the Guardian. Only a few are allowed to pierce the Veil and pass through, otherwise you would have people popping through to your side of the world just to cause mischief.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it, my boy. Let’s say I’m an art lover. If portals were unregulated, what would stop me from opening one in the Louvre, snatching the Mona Lisa and then stepping back to my side of the Veil? How would your police forces stop me? Worse yet, what if I was power-mad and decided I was the rightful master of this side of the world? Do you really think the military or intelligence services would be able to stop me if I could open a portal and bring through a few hundred trolls or a couple of dragons? The Veil is here for a reason, Keegan. As I said before, it protects each side of the world from the other.”

  Keegan, sobered by Acamar’s comments, realized the responsibility the Guardian must bear and the immense power it must take to enforce the separation of the world.

  “Now, my young apprentice-to-be, it is time to try your first spell.”

  Keegan looked at the man as if he had just asked him to step off the roof of his office building. “I can’t do magic,” said Keegan. “Besides, even if I could I don’t have a wand or anything.”

  Acamar’s face suddenly darkened, carrying the expression of someone who had just eaten a roach. “People on this side of the Veil are so stereotypical,” he said with obvious distaste. “I suppose you think all witches have warts and all wizards wear pointy hats?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess so.”

  “Well they don’t! Wizards and witches are like you and me; they have everyday jobs, eat everyday foods, and so forth. Granted, when in our world, we generally wear our robes rather than those drab old clothes you normals wear. We don’t all use wands, either. Some do yes, but some use rings, brooches or pendants. Some wizards and witches are powerful enough that they don’t use a talisman; those whose talent leans towards potions are a good example. Likewise, those of us who sometimes take the form of animals have little need for wands - cats don’t have pockets, you know!”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean offense,” replied Keegan sheepishly. He felt foolish for being so narrow minded. “Until you appeared I didn’t even believe in magic; I’m still not certain I do anyway.”

  “I have little patience for stereotypes my young apprentice, especially from those who are uneducated about the topic at hand. You may not need a talisman; I do not know - your talent will determine that in time. For now, you will likely rely on your ring which at the moment knows more about your magic than you do,” said Acamar in a more patient tone.

  Acamar walked over to Keegan and placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “The most important aspect of your talent is confidence. Now, I want you to follow my instructions and we will start you on your journey.”

  Keegan looked up at the older man and then back down at his ring. He had never believed in magic before or anything else really. Keegan gazed into the stone set into his ring and felt something stirring deep within himself.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Point your ring at the hedge,” said Acamar.

  “Okay.”

  “Now close your eyes and concentrate. Picture a doorway in the hedge and repeat the phrase ‘vervoers portaal.’”

  Keegan glanced at his ring again and then at Acamar.

  “I feel like an idiot.”

  He raised his hand and pointed the ring at a section of the hedge. Picturing an archway in the hedge, he repeated the phrase as the older man had instructed.

  “Vervoers portaal.”

  Nothing happened.

  Acamar looked quite amused at the attempt. “Now t
ry again. Close your eyes and concentrate on your ring, then say it as if you really believe it this time. Push forward with your mind, willing the magic to pierce the Veil.”

  “Vervoers portaal,” intoned Keegan as he focused on his dragon-ring with his mind’s eye. He felt a hot surge of energy welling up from somewhere within him. It shot outward through his right arm, down through his signet ring and outward towards the privet hedge. With a low rumble akin to distant thunder the hedge in front of him stretched and twisted, contorting itself until a perfect six-foot arch had appeared. Keegan’s jaw dropped open and he stared in disbelief at the archway. Beyond it, he could see what appeared to be the same cobblestone path that led into the hedge maze. The portal seemed to hang in the air effortlessly, the surface distorted slightly by eddies and swirls that played across its face.

  “I don’t believe it,” he said with a grin at Acamar. “I don’t freaking believe it! I just did magic!”

  The older wizard chuckled as he smiled at Keegan.

  “You see, my young apprentice, confidence and strength of will are your ally. Your biggest weakness is your lack of faith; you don’t really believe in anything, least of all yourself. Believe it or not, you are quite capable of many great things - both good and evil.”

  The grin faded from Keegan’s face as a new realization dawned on him.

  “How do you know so much about me? Things that I don’t even know myself?”

  “It’s my job,” said Acamar. “Part of my penance is to serve as an assistant to the current Guardian. I am messenger, bodyguard, gopher, you name it. My current master required information when he determined who his successor would be, thus I know all there is to know about you.”

  “Wait a minute. You said your service to my grandfather was a ‘penance’ for something. Why are you being punished?”

  “I am serving a sentence for a rather inept decision on my part a very long time ago, in my youth,” said Acamar. “I won’t bore you with all of the gory details; let’s just say I chose the wrong side of a political debate.”

  “So you’re a slave because you didn’t agree with someone?”

  “The debate happened to center around the future of the veil. It ended with an uprising by an element of the dragons against the High Council,” said Acamar. “At the time I believed the dragons to be correct in their assessment of the situation and joined their cause. I see now that I could not have been more wrong.”

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “My punishment was just and given the fate of others, quite mild in comparison,” said the older man.

  “So now what?”

  “Well you’ve made your first gateway, so I suggest we put it to good use before it dissipates. Just step through to the other side, like walking through a door.”

  With one more glance at his new companion, Keegan took a deep breath and stepped into the archway he had just conjured into being.

  ###

  Chapter 4 – Dark Thoughts

  The inner chambers of Council member Cedric Thornback reflected his personality - dark, cold and foreboding. He sat at his desk, gazing out the tower window at the night sky, bony fingers steepled under his nose. His pinched features, hardened by the dim glow coming from the wisp hovering above his desk, looked as if they were chiseled from a block of ice. Cedric’s assistant, a large raven, sat preening itself on a stand in the corner. She had tried engaging him in conversation twice already and had given up - having a large leather-bound edition of Dark Arts and the Pursuit of Power thrown at her was enough of a hint. He was never a cheerful person even on his best days and having received news that he was to be passed over for leadership of the Council for the third time had soured his mood even further. She fluttered over to the fireplace and scratched a symbol in the ashes with her talon.

  “Incinerata invigoratus!” she squawked, with a sharp flap of her wings toward the dark stones of the fireplace. With a flash, the hearth jumped to life and a blazing fire leapt into being, spreading its heat through the chill of Cedric’s chambers. Cedric cut his dark, almost black eyes, around to where his assistant perched on the now warm hearth.

  “Had I wanted a fire, I would have lit one, you know,” he hissed at her as he sank lower in his chair. “I enjoy the chill of the evening.”

  Nisha shot a frosty glance at the wizard and ruffled her feathers.

  “You have your robes to keep you warm; I only have these damn feathers. If you enjoy freezing to death, then go sit on the balcony and do so by yourself,” she snapped.

  “So change to human form if you don’t like your feathers,” he said, feigning innocence.

  ”You know that is forbidden! I have already been in human form today. You know the Administrative Rules - hell you helped write them,” she squawked angrily.

  He loved to bait her like that; reminding Nisha of her restrictions absolutely infuriated her. She had been under enchantment in the Administrative Service for almost one hundred years now - a long time by even the Service’s standards. Cedric had never bothered to ask what she had done to earn such a punishment - life as an aide and restricted to one transfiguration to human form per day. She was really quite an efficient assistant, keeping Cedric’s office organized and his appointments up to date. Life as a Council member was hectic enough, but he was also the leader of his order and a master of the Dark Arts. On any given day, he received several hundred notes and letters from the various members of his sect, usually requesting favors or his advice on matters involving the darkest of magic.

  “Temper, temper, my dear assistant,” he chided. “Mind your manners or I’ll be using your tail feathers for quill pens again.”

  She shot him one last harsh look and then returned to warming herself by the fire. She knew the limits of her master’s temper and decided against pressing beyond them. Although she despised Master Thornback, she needed him. She knew that eventually with his return to power and the reunification of the two worlds, he would release her from her life of servitude.

  “I have an additional task for you my dear,” he said in an oily voice. “Your observation of young Master Whitestone is to continue, however I now want to know everything available about the background of our young friend. He should be arriving sometime this evening, if all goes as planned. If I’m not mistaken, Master Whitestone sent his aide to fetch the boy yesterday.”

  “As you wish Master,” she said. “If I may ask, why the sudden interest in the young man’s background?”

  “You may not ask,” Thornback said with an icy tone. “As far as anyone is concerned, I am merely upholding my duty as a member of the High Council. I must be prepared for when I interview the boy, to reassure myself that he is the correct choice for the position.”

  “Huh!” She had an inkling of what he might be up to, though. He had been denied leadership of the Council already because of his strong views about the link between the two worlds. Although according to the Council’s official decision he was ‘far too valuable an asset’ as an Advisor on the Dark Arts to the sitting Chancellor, Nisha knew it was because he had been branded a radical. She personally thought it was because the other Council members, even those of his own order, were afraid of what he might do with the power of the leadership position.

  “What was that?” asked the dark wizard, swiveling his chair around to face his assistant.

  “Nothing Master, merely clearing my throat,” she said quickly. She had learned the hard way when to hold her tongue in Cedric’s presence. She had just grown back a new set of tail feathers and had no intention of them being plucked out again.

  “Mmm. Off with you then. I want your report tomorrow, before the other Council members arrive in the city,” he said as he turned back towards his desk and its ever-present pile of scrolls and papers to answer.

  Nisha ruffled her feathers one last time, turned and flew from the chambers, leaving Cedric to his work. She had barely reached the corridor outside when she heard a muttered inca
ntation and a loud crack as the dark mage extinguished her nice warm fire.

  ###

  Chapter 5 – A Journey Started

  Keegan, standing in the archway he had just created, looked around at his new surroundings; it looked just like the path he had taken to enter the maze - same stones, same little garden statuaries and so forth. Somehow, it just did not feel the same though. It was as if he had been asleep and was suddenly jolted awake by a bucket of cold water thrown in his face.

  “Ahem,” Acamar cleared his throat, motioning for Keegan to move forward.

  “Sorry,” said Keegan. “It’s just that this is a little overwhelming, is all.”

  Acamar placed his hand gently on the younger man’s shoulder “I understand my boy, really I do.” The older man smiled as he reached forward and gave Keegan a sudden shove that pushed him the rest of the way through the archway and onto the path beyond.

  “Hey! What the hell did you do that for?” shouted Keegan, stumbling to regain his balance.