Nature Mage

by Duncan Pile

  “How about you, Lydia?” Taurnil asked.

  “I feel good about it,” she said. “I mean, we came here to learn magic and if I can’t pass the test I shouldn’t be doing it.” Sometimes Lydia’s poise mystified Gaspi, whose stomach was still performing little jumps. How could she not feel nervous, even if she was confident? “How about you, Gaspi?” she asked him in turn.

  Gaspi thought about it for a minute. He’d noticed in the last week or so that his block must be eroding fairly quickly, as his spells had suddenly increased in potency. Out of all the class, he’d got the deepest colour out of a force shield in martial magic. If he was completely honest, he was just nervous because it was a test, but didn’t actually feel afraid that he’d fail it.

  “Pretty good, I guess,” he admitted. “I’ll be nervous on the day, of course, but I’m not worried about failing. I mean, we know all three of us can perform magic, right? And that’s what the Test is for.”

  They talked on for a bit longer before the magicians left Taurnil and Jonn, and headed back to the college. Emea and Lydia were both worn out from what had been a massive day for both of them, so they didn’t linger outside the dorms, but said a quick goodnight and went in for a well-earned night’s sleep. Gaspi’s head was full of thoughts as he drifted off to sleep that night. It had been an extraordinary day after all, one whose effects would probably be felt for a long time afterwards. The image of Taurnil bleeding on the arena floor was replaced by one of blinding, healing light blazing from Emmy’s hands. Then Jonn was fighting again, and Lydia and Taurnil were holding hands, and everything seemed well with the world. Images and feelings melded into one as sleep drew Gaspi down into the void, and his thoughts became rambling and scattered as he let them go one by one, falling at last into peaceful oblivion.

  Chapter 23

  The day of the Test was one of those rainless, blustery days, where grey clouds scudded overhead, driven by restless winds, but never shed their load. Those same winds were also fickle, whipping leaves and debris into the air, throwing them this way and that, only to discard them in corners like unwanted toys. Gaspi emerged from the dorm that morning and squinted defensively to keep the airborne dust out of his eyes. The wind had a chill to it, so, wrapping his coat tightly about him, he ducked his head and pushed across the quad towards the refectory. He pulled the heavy wooden door open, resisted by a particularly violent gust of wind, and slipped through. Everyone looked up as the door banged shut forcefully behind him, and sifting through the wide eyed faces he quickly found the two he was looking for.

  He filled a plate with fried egg and sausages and sat down with Emmy and Lydia. “Lovely day!” he said sarcastically, tucking into a particularly juicy looking sausage.

  Emmy made a face. “Why can’t it be summer all year?” she complained half-heartedly. Gaspi had been watching the leaves in what he thought of as his meditation garden slowly change colour for weeks now as summer inevitably faded into autumn, even though the weather had remained mostly mild and sunny. Emmy obviously didn’t mind autumn, until it started to get cold and nasty.

  “I like it,” Lydia said. “It’s dramatic.”

  Emmy stuck out her tongue. “Well, I had enough of cold in Aemon’s Reach!” she said with a pout. “I like it warm.”

  Gaspi laughed. He couldn’t help thinking this was all a diversion from what they were all really thinking about. He knew they couldn’t avoid the topic forever, and decided to broach it now and get it over with. “So...how’re you both feeling about…you know…the Test?”

  “Oh, don’t,” Emmy said, putting her cutlery down on the table and pushing her food away. Lydia looked at her friend sympathetically.

  “But we talked about this the other night,” Gaspi said, a bit surprised by Emea‘s jumpiness.

  .“I feel okay about the things we talked about, Gasp,“ Emmy explained. “But the Test still makes me nervous. I can’t help it. I feel like I swallowed an eel, and it won’t stay still.”

  Gaspi kissed Emmy on the cheek, and went back to his food. There wasn’t much point in saying anything, really. Emmy just got nervous about things like this, but she’d be fine. Seeing Emmy made him realise that he didn’t feel all that nervous. There was some anticipation, but nothing like what Emmy was obviously feeling. If he was honest, he felt pretty confident. Most of his spells worked pretty well now, and he didn’t think it was likely he’d fail the Test. He just hoped it would go better for Emmy than she feared.

  They didn’t have to wait long, as the bell for class rang shortly, and they headed out to the quad. They stepped out of the door into a ring of Everand’s friends. Everand himself stood at their centre, a sneer twisting his otherwise handsome face into a picture of nastiness. “Going to go fail the Test, hedge wizard?” he jeered. Ferast had started that particular piece of name calling. A hedge wizard was a dabbler in magic, going from town to town offering dubious remedies and a few small spells for pennies or a meal. Ferast obviously thought he was being clever, demoting Gaspi from Nature Mage to hedge wizard. Emea pulled at Gaspi’s arm, trying to tug him away from trouble, but Gaspi wasn’t having any of it. He pulled free of her grip and took two long steps towards his tormentor.

  Pushing his face right up to Everand’s he spoke quietly and fiercely into the larger boy’s shocked face. “Take this as a warning Everand,” he hissed. “If you don’t back off I’m going to make you regret ever starting this.” Gaspi rode his boiling anger, finding deep satisfaction when Everand blanched. Gaspi forcefully held eye contact for a few seconds, then turned on his heel and stalked away, Lydia and Emea hurrying to catch up behind him.

  “Why did you have to do that?” Emea said angrily as they walked. “You’ll just make him worse.”

  “Don’t start, Emmy,” Gaspi said furiously. He didn’t want to hear one of her lectures about being nice to that idiot.

  “I think it was good,” Lydia said. Both Gaspi and Emea looked at her in surprise.

  “What?” Emea said, obviously taken aback.

  “You have to stand up to bullies, sometimes,” she said firmly. “If a gypsy acted like he did, someone would knock him out soon enough. It doesn’t do any good to let a bully go on like that.”

  Emea looked like she’d been bitten by her favourite dog. “But…but…” she spluttered, then turned on Gaspi. “Whatever Lydia says, I don’t want you to hit him –okay, Gaspi?”

  “Fine,” an exasperated Gaspi said. “I won’t hit him, okay!”

  Emea looked between him and Lydia, clearly not satisfied.

  “Not unless he hits me first,” Gaspi mumbled rebelliously.

  “Gaspi!” Emea said angrily.

  “Leave it out, you two,” Lydia said firmly but calmly, gaining another double set of incredulous looks. “He probably did it to wind you up before the Test to make it harder to pass. I think we should just focus on what we’ve got to do.”

  Gaspi felt some of the tension flow from him. Lydia was right, and he could see from Emea’s body language that she knew it too. “You’re right,” he said. “Thanks Lydia, and sorry Emmy. I don’t want to argue with you.”

  “Me neither,” Emmy said sheepishly. “It’s just that I feel strongly about…well, you know.”

  “I know,” Gaspi said, putting an arm around her. “Let’s try and stay relaxed before the Test.”

  Emelda had given them clear instructions the previous day. Head for the tower instead of the classroom when the bell rings. Don’t bring any books, or a stylus, or ink. She’d even said they needn’t meditate that morning - the Test would take care of everything, including their preparation. So the three friends walked the rest of the way to the tower in silence, putting the morning’s unpleasantness behind them. They were grateful for the thick, ankle-length coats they wore over their robes, as the fretful wind buffeted them mercilessly with every step.

  They stepped into the tower’s large atrium, thankful to be out of the wind. Gaspi took one look at the two girls, and burst out l
aughing. Their hair was sticking out all over the place, blown into bizarre tangles by the errant wind. Lydia gave him a withering look that told him she thought he was being childish, but when Emmy broke into a fit of giggles too the gypsy girl couldn’t help but smile, as she tried and utterly failed to pat her hair back into place. The girls helped each other out while they lined up at the reception desk. The atrium wasn’t too busy, however, and there was only one student in front of them - a large boy a couple of years older than them but who still wore the brown robes of a student. He was only handing in some forms, and when he walked away from the receptionist she turned her attention to them, squinting at them through bottle-thick, round-rimmed glasses.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, in a reedy voice.

  “We’re here for the Test,” Gaspi said.

  “The Test, eh?” she said, peering more intently into each of their faces. “Eighth plinth; password is testing suite,” she said briskly, jabbing her quill in the direction of the plinth with a bend of the wrist. “You can all get on at once,” she finished, her attention already on something else, eyes glued to a piece of paper on her desk.

  Gaspi shrugged, and led the way to the plinth. After counting to make sure he’d got the right one, they stepped on and linked arms. “Shall I say it?” Gaspi asked. Emmy looked pale as a ghost, her nerves obviously threatening to get the better of her, and she just swallowed and nodded.

  “Go ahead,” Lydia said calmly.

  “Testing suite,” Gaspi said, and they were swept up by the uncomfortable sensations of transportation. When it was over, they found themselves in the corner of a large room that was furnished entirely in deep red fabrics. Velvet drapes hung from the walls and thick carpets covered the floor. In the centre of the room there were three deep burgundy armchairs, separated from each other by a space of several feet.

  “Shall we?” he asked the girls, indicating the chairs.

  “I think we’re meant to,” Emmy said quietly, and they each took a seat.

  Gentle harmonics sounded in the air, harmonics that seemed to draw him into a meditative state. The sound was underpinned by deep bass sonorities that insistently drew him inwards, more powerfully and quickly even than the musical enchantment of Emelda’s classroom. It seemed clear to Gaspi that the preparation room was designed to help them enter an optimum state before facing the Test. Glancing at Emmy and Lydia, he saw that they had reached the same conclusion; they were both sitting there with their eyes closed, chests rising and falling with each deep, rhythmic breath.

  Even if they weren’t using the time well, he didn’t think he could say anything to them anyway. Something about the enchantment of the room made him feel strangely detached from the two girls. He felt that same something pulling at him, calling him inwards. Heeding that call, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Far more quickly than ever before he found himself in an altered state, the tips of his fingers and toes tingling as refreshment rushed through him in an irresistible wave.

  With each breath his experience deepened, his imagination flooding with the sounds and colours of his secret place. The lake and secluded valley formed around him, cool water lapping over his bare feet, as he breathed deeply in contentment. He wanted to linger, to lie back on the shore and watch the clouds drift across the pale blue sky, but the inward call continued to tug at him irresistibly, and he released his hold even further. The imagery dissolved around him and he quickly approached and was immersed in the depths of his own spirit, a rich green swirling of colour and life, magic and sprit intermingling inseparably. Power played around his fingers, waiting to be called upon, eager to be released but no longer out of control. The partial block enabled him to contain the strength within him, taming his once-rampant magic, though if he peered intensely enough he could see depths of colour and radiance beyond his grasp – the magical potential that his eroding block still held at bay.

  A noise in the room brought him briefly back to consciousness. Opening his eyes a crack, he saw the double doors had swung open, but he distinctly felt he was not to rise from the chair. To his right, Lydia stood to her feet and walked through the doors, which swung soundlessly shut behind her. Gaspi re-entered his trance, content to do nothing but bask in the presence of his power, and it didn’t seem like long before the door opened again. Once again he felt to stay where he was, and Emea stood up and walked through the door. It could have been five or thirty minutes later when the door opened a third time; this time he felt the deep trance state lift a little, and he knew it was time.

  Standing up, he gathered his thoughts and walked through the door into the next chamber, a small room whose walls glowed the same deep burgundy as the chair he had just been sitting in. The doors shut behind him, and he stood facing another door on the opposite side of the room. Between him and the door was an opalescent barrier, swirling gently with pale light. Instinctively, he knew what this was; it was a form of force shield, and he was required to send his power into it. He could only assume that if he did well enough the barrier would disappear, letting him move on. He briefly wondered how Emmy had coped with this, given her struggles with this type of magic; but, realising there was nothing he could do to help her now, he pushed his concern aside.

  He held out his hand and let power flow into it, forming a pearly ball of force that span in his palm. He sent all the power he could into it, knowing his block would keep him safe from losing control, and it swelled responsively in his hand until it was over half the size of the leather ball the boys kicked around the courtyard at break-time. He lifted his hand, aware that the block must have eroded a little further once again, as the ball of power resting against his palm was larger and more potent than any he had conjured before. When he was sure it would get no bigger, he flicked his wrist purposefully, sending it hurtling towards the barrier. When the force strike hit the barrier it resonated sonorously, like a gong being hit with a padded hammer. Deep red light lanced out from the point of impact, spreading all the way to the walls of the room, and the barrier dissolved into nothingness in an instant. Smiling, Gaspi walked forward to the single door at the other end of the room - which swung open silently, as he expected it to do - and stepped through.

  Gaspi didn’t have time to register the details of the next room, as it was not lit in any way, and the dim red glow flowing from the previous room was cut off the moment he crossed the threshold. He was plunged into blackness. It wasn’t the kind of dark you experience at night, where the light from the moon and stars give everything a silvery sheen, but it was the absolute absence of light. Gaspi felt a surge of panic nipping at the edges of the calm state he’d been in up to that moment. Holding his hand up in front of his face, he opened his eyes as wide as possible, but it was no good. He couldn’t even see the outline of his hand.

  Forcing himself to breathe deeply, he thought about his options, quickly settling on the simplest solution. Just as Emelda had showed them in their first lesson, he conjured a light. It wasn’t like the force strike, surging with power and intention, but was a benign glowing sphere that took very little power. The globe formed quickly, a pale green sphere that pulsated gently, revealing a single narrow pathway snaking through a long wide room. The path twisted and turned unpredictably, winding its way across the room to the other side, and on either side of it there was a drop. Gaspi peered down into the drop, trying to see how deep it was, but it was impenetrably black, just as the whole room had been before he had summoned the globe light. Instinctively, he knew that non-magical lanterns would not work in this place, and that without the light of his globe he wouldn’t be able to navigate the narrow and tricky path across the room. He also thought that it would be a bad idea to fall into the inky black drop.

  Holding his hand before him, he took a small step onto the path. The surface of the path glimmered faintly in the light of his globe, tiny sparkling facets of light glinting from deep within it. It looked slick and polished, and curved away into nothingness on either sid
e, so that it appeared to have no clear edge. Sticking to the very centre of the path, which was never more than two feet wide and sometimes as narrow as one, he edged his way carefully round the room, following the sinuous curves of the pathway. Halfway round the room he began to grow confident, stepping a little faster than he had previously, when suddenly his foot slipped. Letting out a panicked yelp, he let his concentration falter and the globe light blinked out, plunging Gaspi into blackness.

  Wobbling from the slip, Gaspi’s arms pin-wheeled desperately in an attempt to regain balance - but in the blackness he was unable to keep his centre of gravity, and he fell backwards. He threw his arms out desperately to try and land flat on the path, and grunted in relief when he slammed into the floor without slipping off into the blackness. Breathing heavily, he let his head fall against the ground. How could he have been such an idiot?

  After a moment he gathered himself and held out his hand, channelling magic into it again to form another light. For a moment it wouldn’t work, and he felt the sharp edge of panic. Pushing the panic aside, he deliberately steadied his breathing, allowing his focus to reform, and the light popped into existence; flickering at first, and then growing stronger, its light revealing his position in the centre of the snaking path. Pushing himself to his knees, and then to his feet, he made sure he kept his concentration on the light. Slowly and steadily he took small, certain steps around the remaining curve of the path. It was with some relief that he finally stepped off onto the platform at the other end of the room, and the next door swung open before him. When he stepped through the door, it was with less of the confidence he’d felt earlier.