Revelation (Seeds of Humanity: The Cobalt Heresy)

by Caleb Wachter

  She had hoped to slip that one by me apparently, and I was suddenly very grateful for my diligence in overseeing the ‘finer’ points of this negotiation.

  “Magos Tamara,” I said slowly, trying to keep my voice level as my face flushed, “we both know that isn’t going to happen, and to suggest it at this late hour is anything but a cooperative gesture.”

  Now it was Marizzi’s turn to get her Master’s back. “Jezran, be reasonable,” my ‘wife’ said in a voice that was almost pleading, “the refinement of mythicite is a delicate procedure and requires a very controlled environment. Failure to observe the necessary safety protocols can lead to disaster!”

  I locked eyes with Marizzi before I shifted my gaze to Tamara. “I must insist,” I said coolly, “that the refinement occur on-site. I can relent in certain aspects of these negotiations, but not this one.”

  Tamara chewed her cheek in thought, and Marizzi looked on in a mixture of wonderment and frustration. Finally, the Magos nodded her head. “If House Wiegraf will share the costs of establishing the facility where refinement is to take place, then House Listoh will provide the equipment and expertise to carry out the process.”

  I nodded appreciatively. “So…we agree on two full-time Magos, yes?” I pressed, knowing I wouldn’t get it, but I had to at least try.

  Tamara smiled wryly. “I believe one Magos and her Journeyman should suffice,” she said knowingly. Marizzi’s face slackened as she realized what her Master had just implied.

  “Master, you cannot be serious!” Marizzi yelped.

  “Indeed I am, Marizzi,” her Master assured her. “Our presence will raise fewer questions, given the relationship between yourself and Jezran. We cannot raise any more alarms than are absolutely necessary. Even House Listoh must respect the long arm of House Tyrdren…at least until we have taken control of the resource.”

  I really wanted to groan but apparently these two ‘ladies’ were about to become my liaisons to House Listoh, so I didn’t need to muddy the waters any more than I already had.

  “That’s acceptable,” I agreed, standing slowly to my feet so I could stretch. “Now we only need to hammer out The Guild’s commitment to protecting the area.”

  Magos Tamara nodded. “The Guild will accept responsibility for securing the resource, as well as providing support for House Wiegraf’s efforts to defend any geographic area it deems fit, so long as such an effort of defense can be adequately proven to be necessary for continued harvest of the mythicite.”

  Frankly, it was better than I had hoped for. I had dreamed of House Listoh stationing a dozen wizards under my own direct control, but the truth was that getting them to secure the mythicite and offer mutual-defense assistance was everything I could have asked. Besides, I suspected that once they assayed the claim they would be falling over themselves to provide more ‘protection’ than what we agreed to here and now.

  “Then we have ourselves a deal,” I said, glad to finally be done with the negotiations. “I assume you have the paperwork ready to go?”

  Tamara nodded, pulling a rolled up scroll from her robes. When she unrolled it and presented it to me, I could see that it had automatically filled in the details of our agreement. Everything looked good, so I used my seal and affixed both it and my signature to the document.

  Tamara did likewise, but then she hesitated. “Magos Antolin Wiegraf is obviously unavailable for reasons you have been reticent to reveal until now, but House Listoh must insist on learning of his whereabouts at this point.” She slowly rolled the paper back up and placed it in a metal scroll tube before continuing. “Also, we will now require full disclosure as to the location of our mythicite.”

  “To your first question,” I began as I paused to take a deep breath. “The truth is I have no idea what happened to him. Some of his effects remained behind when he tried to defeat a powerful creature, but I don’t have a clue what happened to him or if he’s even coming back. As to the location of the mythicite, I had intended to return there no later than the day after tomorrow, and I really can’t disclose its location until I do so.”

  The Magos almost imperceptibly seemed to relax as she cocked an eyebrow in surprise. “You still do not trust House Listoh to keep her bargains?” she asked in a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

  “Frankly?” I replied with a false grin. “No, I don’t. Once I’m safely there I’ll send word for you, at which time I’ll require your immediate transfer.”

  Marizzi looked shocked that I would speak in such a manner to her Master, but Magos Tamara merely smiled. “You speak as the Master of your own House,” she replied, “but understand that when we transfer to the location of the mythicite, you will be expected to display the proper respect afforded a Magos of Veldyrian—”

  “That reminds me,” I interrupted with a halting gesture, “I need a Guild Magos to review the somewhat unusual Pact of Binding I recently completed with the being I was introduced to a year ago by this very House.”

  Tamara cocked an eyebrow. “You have successfully negotiated with it, then?” she asked appreciatively. “Where is your Mark?”

  I shook my head. “I have a feeling it’s…on my heart,” I answered bleakly.

  Her curiosity piqued, the Magos of House Listoh walked over and pressed her hand against my chest before closing her eyes. I felt warmth spread throughout my torso for a few moments before she removed her hand and the sensation dissipated.

  “That is rather unusual,” she agreed, apparently having already read the Mark, “but not unheard of. I can see to the assignment of an assayer to ensure the well-being of the proposed vessels.”

  “I would…appreciate that, Magos,” I replied courteously as I was once again reminded of the fact that I’d bargained with an inhuman creature using another person’s soul—or portion of it—as the currency. The thought unnerved me each time it entered my mind.

  “I believe the ceremony is about to begin,” Magos Tamara said abruptly, apparently also relieved that the negotiations were effectively concluded. “I am certain both of you anxiously await the results for one charming, handsome young man.”

  Tamara turned and left the library, followed closely by Marizzi who shot daggers at me on her way out the door.

  The truth was that I really hoped that the results didn’t go my way, because if they did it was going to add yet another straw to my back, and I was getting dangerously close to the breaking point.

  I made my way back into the Main Hall soon after Tamara and Marizzi had left the library. I decided that I didn’t have time to peruse the library, tempting as the thought might have been. The fact of the matter was that it would take me a day to get as much relevant knowledge from these books as Pi’Vari could get in an hour, so I was probably just wasting time if I indulged my curiosity.

  The Main Hall had transformed from its appearance of just a few hours before. The crowd had aligned itself into neat lines surrounding the center of the room, where a trio of chairs had been set with two of them placed side by side facing the other, lone, chair.

  The tapestries had been taken down, and the food had been removed entirely—which was a shame because I was absolutely famished.

  Pryzius and his cadre were present, and the poor Listoh Apprentice, Gilai’el, looked to be near her breaking point—which I’m sure just encouraged Pryzius to finish the job he had started those hours earlier.

  When he saw me enter the Main Hall, his mood visibly changed from jovial center of attention to a scowling, brooding child who wanted nothing more than to make something (or someone) suffer.

  I didn’t care, because with any luck I would be rid of his belligerent ass in just a couple of days—hopefully for good. But in the meantime I, like Apprentice Gilai’el Listoh, had more discomfort in store.

  “The Readings will now commence,” announced a woman’s ethereal, yet utterly unyielding, voice. I had heard that voice once before, and it still made me uneasy.

  Striding directly into th
e center of the room was a woman whose body was nearly identical to Marizzi’s long, thin form. Her hair was pure white and her features were as sharp as a hawk’s, with green eyes that could probably strip away your soul if you looked into them for too long.

  Her name was Arch Magos Zhivel, sometimes referred to as ‘Zhivel the White’ since her hair color closely matched her aura and had reputedly done so since she was a small girl when her gift of magic had first manifested itself.

  Of course, two centuries had passed since then. But the Arch Magos, Second Voice of the Inner Circle, and Grand Master of House Listoh barely looked a day over fifty.

  She was met in the middle of the hall near the three chairs by a man wearing official looking robes, and I assumed he was a representative of the Imperial Archives who was here to oversee the Reading of House Listoh’s potential Wizard’s College entrants. His dark robes bore a golden ‘V’ emblem on the back and over the heart, which I knew was the symbol of the Imperial Archives. The ‘V’ itself was actually a partially opened book lying on its spine—and as far as I was concerned it represented everything that was wrong with Veldyrian and the Empire.

  When Arch Magos Zhivel was standing in the middle of the room, the assembled crowd moved quietly to surround the chairs in a circle. Pryzius was almost directly opposite my own position, which was fine with me, while Marizzi was nowhere to be seen.

  “The representative from the Archives, Librarian Mikan, will oversee the proceedings and record our findings here in the Imperial Record,” announced the Arch Magos. “The Guild has this year assembled the largest collection of hopefuls in House Listoh’s history, and we have the tireless efforts of our scouting teams to thank for what will doubtless be the finest crop of young College entrants to ever grace the halls of the Great Tower.”

  There was a perfunctory round of applause following the Arch Magos’ opening speech, but when she raised her deceptively delicate-looking hand the entire room became silent.

  “In addition,” she continued with the barest hint of pride, “House Listoh is proud to present six children born of her own body, the Reading of whom shall occur at the end of the docket which includes a total of forty three hopefuls.”

  Again a round of applause erupted, but this one seemed a little more genuine as the members of House Listoh visibly swelled at their matron’s words.

  Apparently, practicing magic is not at all conducive to birthing children since the vast majority of woman wizards are flat-out infertile. Those who are capable of conceiving a child have notoriously delicate pregnancies, resulting in less than one percent of conceptions ending in the live birth of a healthy child.

  Somehow, House Listoh had managed to beat those odds. Recent speculation around Veldyrian had their success rate up to nearly ten percent, which was absolutely unheard of and portended a long-term shift in Veldyrian’s balance of power.

  Even though students of the Wizard’s College are placed into the open draft—known as ‘Selection’—and are therefore unable to decide which House they must serve during their Apprentice and Journeyman years, once they become Magos-ranked they are allowed to petition a rival House for inclusion on their roster. Compensation is awarded to the House ‘losing’ their newly-made Magos, but it’s usually in the form of a highly-placed Selection in the next year’s College class and certain financial concessions, which is a far cry from full value for an accredited Imperial Magos.

  So it was widely believed that House Listoh would gain even more control over Veldyrian politics starting around twenty years from my arrival, since most successful graduates of the Wizard’s College made the rank of Magos by the age of forty. House Listoh had reportedly achieved their improved birth rate about two decades earlier, so the rest of the Imperial City’s Great Houses were merely watching the clock and trying to figure out how they would survive when House Listoh’s ranks doubled, or even tripled, with fully-fledged Magos-level practitioners in twenty years’ time.

  Naturally, the Great House with the most to lose under such a shift in the political landscape of Veldyrian was the one whose brightest young star was standing across from me in the crowd, surrounded by his cadre of lackeys—one of whom had failed to do his erstwhile master’s bidding earlier in the day and lost his Champion for his trouble.

  But the move had cost Pryzius next to nothing, since House Urkalia was on a downward spiral and it was rumored that they would be absorbed into House Tyrdren to avoid Imperial inquest into possible collusion between the two Houses. Reprisals against either the young Urkalia wizard Kaven, or Pryzius himself, were therefore essentially impossible considering the fragile state of the House. This was obviously what had made Kaven the perfect tool for Pryzius to employ against me.

  “The Imperial Archives stand ready to assist in this most important matter,” said the Librarian, a man who was apparently named Mikan.

  The Arch Magos nodded graciously to the Archives representative, and they silently sat down in their respective seats opposite the lone chair.

  “Bring forth the first hopeful,” ordered Arch Magos Zhivel in her almost metallic voice.

  The crowd parted and a young woman no more than fifteen years old came forward. She had absolutely beautiful dark brown skin which was almost black, and short, curly hair cropped so close to her skull that I would have thought her bald if not for the lack of reflected light on her scalp.

  There was a member of House Listoh, a Magos by the look of him, accompanying her to the solitary chair positioned opposite the Arch Magos and Librarian.

  She was clearly trying to keep her nerves under control, but it was an intimidating situation to be in with hundreds of people watching with keen interest in their eyes.

  The Arch Magos gestured to the seat. “Your name please, child,” she said in a quiet tone that still managed to sound too official, and for a moment I pitied the girl.

  The girl sat down slowly in the chair, and the wizard accompanying her stood behind the chair patiently with his hands clasped behind his back. “Yrden, my Lady,” she replied sheepishly as she fidgeted in the chair, trying to get comfortable.

  The Librarian leaned forward and gestured to someone outside the throng, and a minute later two servants carrying a portable iron pedestal and a small box made their way through the throng. The pedestal was placed directly between the girl’s chair and the seats of the Arch Magos and Librarian.

  The box was opened, and the Librarian gently removed an oddly-shaped orb which looked like it would fit perfectly into the pedestal. The shape of the orb was spherical on one side, but the other side had a pair of adjoining, flat, panels. The configuration of the three chairs suddenly made sense, and I watched as soon as the Librarian carefully—almost reverently—placed the orb on top of the pedestal.

  When looking through the orb, both the Arch Magos and the Librarian would be able to see the image on the other side. The Librarian returned to his seat after he confirmed that the Arch Magos was satisfied with her angle of view, and he took a large ledger from the same box which had held the orb before dismissing the servants to their previous positions at the back of the crowd.

  “Yrden,” the Librarian repeated, making an entry in the ledger. “And the Magos of record having discovered the hopeful?” he asked, looking over his newly-placed reading glasses to the wizard standing behind the chair.

  “Magos Ryben von Cyan, of House Listoh,” he replied.

  The Librarian nodded and completed a short entry in the ledger before turning to the Arch Magos. “Shall we proceed?” he asked, and Arch Magos Zhivel nodded her assent, and the lights dimmed as if she had bidden them to do so unconsciously until there was just enough light to see the silhouettes of the people scattered throughout the main hall. The three chairs were better lit by the pedestal, which glowed with a soft light of its own and illuminated the features of the Arch Magos, the Librarian, and Yrden.

  The Librarian faced the orb and closed his eyes, and a moment later the orb flared once, twice, the
n a third time with an internal, light blue color which burned softly for a moment before fading. The Librarian turned to the Arch Magos as soon as the light had faded completely. “Teal, Grade Three,” he declared, and the Arch Magos nodded.

  “Teal,” the Grand Master of House Listoh agreed, “Grade Three.” The Librarian then made an entry in the ledger.

  I still had very little understanding of the whole Grade system for prospective wizards, but I did know that Grade Five was considered the top Grade for College acceptance. Anyone lower than Grade Two was considered too weak for College enrollment, and anyone higher than Grade Five was considered an impractical applicant.

  Grade Six prospects were considered too closely entwined with the forces of magic, and would therefore have too great a difficulty in mastering the fusion of logic and intuition needed to harness the forces which had built the Empire over the last, supposed, six thousand years.

  Of course, that wasn’t usually a problem the Empire had to deal with since all known Grade Sixes destroyed themselves at a young age by accidentally triggering their natural gifts. Being unable to control the forces they found themselves interacting with, most of these prospects failed to make it past their tenth or twelfth year, seeing as magical ability can begin to spontaneously manifest around the onset of puberty.

  The young woman, Yrden, was dismissed by the Librarian when he had completed his entry in the ledger. The wizard, Ryben, who had apparently discovered her in some far-off land, escorted her from the room. I heard him tell her that he was very proud of how well she had conducted herself. I had to agree with him; it was pretty impressive that she hadn’t left the chair soaked with urine as far as I was concerned. All those eyes pressing down on a person could have a suffocating effect.

  The scene repeated itself thirty five more times, with all of the hopefuls being between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. The highlights of the first thirty six hopefuls included a pair of Grade Fives (which, apparently, is what Jezran had ranked during his own pre-College assessment) and a half dozen Grade Fours, which judging from the increasingly loud murmuring throughout the hall was quite a haul.