The Black Mage: Complete Series

by Rachel E. Carter

  The two burly brothers, Jake and William, had stopped gaining in stamina, and they were beginning to struggle in the increasingly difficult tasks Eloise and Isaac assigned. The only area those two still excelled in were Piers's drills, but it was common knowledge that would not be enough. For a knight or a soldier, yes, but never a mage.

  Ella and I had a wager going for how much longer the brothers would remain. Neither of us had a fondness for the brutes.

  A week later, our friend Jordan resigned. A couple days after, one of the lowborn boys from Darren's group of twelve did as well. There was no shortage to the resignations taking place, and I wondered how many more would follow. Master Barclae had warned that half the class would leave by winter holiday. I had a nagging feeling he was going to be right.

  ON THE THIRD week of our fifth month at the Academy, I walked into my session with Master Narhari, expecting nothing more than the same routine that had been drilled into us for the past two and a half months.

  Instead, I found Piers, whose session we’d just came from, leaning against a post in the fencing that encompassed the entirety of our training field. Masters Barclae and Narhari stood beside him.

  The three of them looked particularly formidable.

  I shivered and folded my arms, eyeing the masters with apprehension. The three of them together was not a good sign. Considering the last time Sir Piers had teamed up with a master, I feared for today's outcome.

  “Don't they look just lovely?” Ella muttered.

  “I feel like they put on those disturbing smiles just to mess with our heads,” Clayton whispered back.

  I laughed. My friends and I could not be more alike.

  Moments later, the humor was gone when Master Narhari explained exactly why the visitors were present.

  “They've come to check your progress,” he announced. “We will be staging a duel between each of you and another student in this class. This will be a chance to demonstrate what you have learned thus far. This is not a test. There are no winners and losers today, and this will in no way influence your trials at the end of the year.”

  I breathed in a small sigh of relief and heard Ella at my right do the same.

  “I know how hard all of you have been training,” Narhari continued. “The next two hours should be the culmination of those efforts.”

  Ella and I glanced at one another. We knew who our partner would be. We had sparred so many times in class, as well as after. We knew each other's strengths and weaknesses like the back of our hands. Between the two of us, we could easily impress the masters without embarrassing ourselves.

  Others shared the same conclusion. First-years began to pair up almost instinctively.

  “Children, children,” Sir Piers chuckled loudly. “You are sadly mistaken if you think Master Narhari will let you pick the same person you’ve been practicing with all these months.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “I believe Master Narhari and I have a better understanding of your skill set than your pea-sized brains acknowledge. The two of us will choose the one who is… shall we say, best suited for your abilities.” His words made my skin crawl. Something told me Piers had been looking forward to today for far too long.

  As the sets played out, one by one, I came to understand exactly why. There were only a couple of us left by the time my name was called, but I already knew exactly whom my opponent would be.

  Piers had not forgotten that day with the staffs.

  “Priscilla.”

  I took a large swallow as the raven-haired beauty took her place opposite mine.

  “Begin.”

  The two of us circled one another, slowly.

  Priscilla looked like a wolf honing in on a kill. She smiled, white teeth flashing, and laughed throatily as I stumbled, clumsily searching for an opening.

  Her muscles gave away nothing, and since we’d not been provided any weapons, I had no idea how she planned to initiate her assault.

  “You can always forfeit now.” The girl’s voice carried across to our entire audience. “Save yourself the humiliation, lowborn.”

  I ground my teeth but said nothing. The only way I would win this match was if Priscilla became too confident and slipped up. My magic was no match for hers. I'd seen her often enough in class to know that it would be a mistake to engage her directly. Maybe someday I would be able to beat her outright, but not today.

  Not without luck.

  “Go ahead and play the coward,” she taunted. “I have no problem leading the attack.”

  Priscilla raised her hand. I recognized the move from training right away. She'd always been a fan of extravagant gestures.

  Immediately, I cast out a shield, clutching its arm holds with all the strength I could muster.

  The air whistled loudly, and her magic slammed my defense, splitting my shield and knocking me to the ground in the same breath. My cheeks burned and I tasted blood; I'd underestimated the force she would use.

  I quickly scrambled to my feet, just in time to spot a flying dagger headed straight for my face. I let myself fall to the ground, hands thrown instinctively across my face. A searing pain shot across my forearm, but the cut had missed any important veins.

  Now.

  I didn’t bother to pull myself up before I threw a crowd of flames at her chest.

  Priscilla ducked, but it still caught her sleeve. She cried out as the fire touched her skin, but a moment later, water doused the attack.

  “Is that it?” the girl jeered. She was trying her best to disguise the pain in her arm. “Two seconds of flame? How about some lightning?”

  Lightning? We hadn't learned weather attacks yet, let alone the deadliest of them all. That type of magic was reserved for the apprenticeship, not first-years. We weren't supposed to know such complicated castings. They were too volatile; we needed control.

  Panicked, I glanced up at the sky, only to get the air knocked out of my chest instead. It sent me sprawling back against the grass.

  Priscilla was laughing as I doubled over, gasping for breath. “Really didn't think you'd fall for that one,” she giggled.

  I spat, blood and saliva hitting the ground as I stood.

  What could I cast? Daggers were still so complicated. An arrow? Wind? More fire?

  “You have no place here,” she said lazily, circling around as she spoke. “Trying,” she added, looking directly at Sir Piers, “is not good enough. The ones who need to learn are the ones I am least worried about—”

  Priscilla's speech was cut short as she was sent flying against the fence. Arms flailed out widely in front of her as she emitted a loud shriek. Wood splintered and broke.

  As she fell, I rose up, painfully, using a staff I'd conjured for support.

  “You little—”

  With my spare hand, I waved away her throwing daggers and redirected them at their former owner. A chill crept up my spine. I’d never tried the casting before, though I’d seen others use it in practice.

  A sharp, gnawing sensation surged across my stomach, and I realized uneasily I was fast approaching my limit. Apparently, real battle and adrenaline depleted my magic much faster than two hours of practice.

  Then again, I’d just used a large span of magical force to knock over a girl easily the weight of four barley sacks and attempted a new casting. So maybe my exhaustion wasn't all that abnormal, given the context.

  With a violent gesture, Priscilla halted my blades and let them dissipate into the air. Then she stood, breathing a little unevenly, brushing off bits of wood and dirt.

  “Time to end this little dance.”

  I braced myself for her attack, envisioning a shield as before, but this time her casting came before I could create a substantial projection.

  Her force slammed my defense. My head spun wildly as I tried to maintain my casting's spectral form, holding the shield for as long as I could. For the longest ten seconds of my life, I held my ground, shaking violently and fighting the sharp, sea
ring pain that was filling my head.

  Then, all at once, the shield shattered. It splayed into hundreds of tiny shards as I staggered and fell.

  I was supposed to be powerful. Wasn’t that what Cedric had said after the hallucinogen?

  I couldn’t hold back my bile as I emptied the contents of my stomach, again and again. I’d reached my magic limits, and Priscilla hadn’t so much as broken a sweat.

  I couldn’t look up. I already knew what the masters’ expressions would say.

  This girl does not belong here.

  Half of our class had failed, same as I. That was to be expected. But I’d humiliated myself, and the knight who believed in me.

  “Will someone help her back to her seat?” Master Narhari looked uncomfortable.

  Ella and Clayton didn’t hesitate. After, Clayton ran off to fetch some water while Ella pushed my hair back so that its strands no longer stuck to my face.

  My “thanks” was barely a whisper. Then I took a long swallow and glanced up at Piers through the corner of my eye. As soon as the knight noticed me, he looked away, but not before I saw the grim line of his jaw.

  So much for no consequences.

  Swallowing the sinking feeling that had set in my throat, I watched the last two matches in a melancholy silence.

  Ella won her bout against a boy who usually tagged along after the prince’s crew. Their match had been a pretty even exchange until he engaged her in swordplay. Foolish boy.

  The last pairing to duel was none other than Eve and Darren. Watching the two of them fight, I understood Ella’s words when she described Combat as a dance… the dark, detached prince and the fragile, girl with so much power hidden away. Their exchange carried on for a long time. Each served a series of crippling assaults that the other deflected with easy precision. I’d seen the two of them practice often enough in class, and today was no exception.

  A shower of flame was greeted by a wall of ice. A powerful exertion of force was met with a large metal-embossed shield that deflected and sent the other's magic careening into the forest beyond. The ground beneath Eve gave way, and she lunged with a set of knives, crashing across the dais. An exchange of blows played out between two spectral blades, until the two finally paused, conjuring their personal weapons of choice.

  Clutching the hilt in both hands, Eve held a long sword that almost reached the entire length of her frame. We had briefly practiced with that type of sword during our sessions with Piers, but the way she confidently held the weapon now made me believe she'd spent a lot of time with it before the Academy.

  Darren clutched a single-headed battle-axe in each hand.

  The two of them circled one another wordlessly. Eventually Darren jumped in, swiping at his opponent to engage. The two continued to feign and parry, metal on metal thundering across the field.

  Suddenly, Eve swung out, and Darren hooked her blade with his off-hand axe while his other hand's axe struck out, the barest of inches from her neck.

  Eve dropped her blade, and Darren lowered his weapons.

  The entire class burst into applause. Even the masters.

  I kept my hands at my sides, seething with envy. Ella and Clayton were the only others not to join in.

  We were all dismissed then, and as I limped back to the dining commons, I heard snippets of conversation all around me.

  “…definitely not a mistake to let the prince join the Academy.”

  “…might as well announce the apprenticeships already. I think today was indicative enough of who the five for Combat will be…”

  “…probably the best performance I've ever seen.”

  “…that girl, the one with the red hair, I heard her family runs an apothecary. She shouldn’t have left home.”

  It was too much.

  Fighting back unwanted tears, I broke free of the crowd.

  “Ry?”

  “Don't follow me.” I spoke sharply so that Ella wouldn't hear the tremors in my voice.

  My friend didn’t argue; she seemed to understand my moods. She turned back with Clayton trailing close behind.

  I couldn't face another person after what happened in class. I wanted to scream and cry and run and hit things. I was so tired of trying so hard and continuing to fail.

  I started walking toward the field. There was a wave of self-pity I needed to embrace before I could breathe again, and I didn’t want anyone to see.

  “You should go back to your friends.”

  I turned, recognizing the voice of the person I least wanted to hear from.

  My whole face was blotchy and red. “Why are you even talking to me?” I snapped. “Your kind doesn’t associate with lowborns, remember?”

  The prince didn’t move. “I never said I don’t associate with lowborns, Ryiah. I just said I don’t associate with ones with little potential.”

  “Then you should be in the dining hall with your friends.”

  “You’re not as a bad as you think. I thought you were, but you’re not.”

  I stared out at the setting sun, holding back tears. “I don't need your hidden insults right now, Darren.”

  He stood his ground and continued to watch me in silence.

  “Please.” My eyes were beginning to water again, and I did not want him to see me cry. I couldn’t. “Please,” I croaked, “just go.”

  I shut my eyes against the tears that were about to break.

  There was a long, drawn-out pause, then the crunch of leather against grass, followed by silence.

  I opened my eyes and found myself completely alone. I let the tears fall freely then.

  10

  The next morning, I woke with the knowledge that yesterday's nightmare had not been “just a dream.” I didn't feel any better in the early morning light; if anything, I felt worse.

  In my first class, news spread that two more first-years in Combat had resigned before breakfast. They’d been part of the class to lose yesterday’s duel.

  “I would have thought you'd join them,” Priscilla sneered when she caught up with me in the halls.

  For once, I didn’t have a retort. I was too busy wondering if she was right. Should I leave? What was the point in trying if I knew I was going to fail?

  Ella shoved her way past me. “Go back to wherever it was you crawled out of, Priscilla.”

  The girl shot Ella a look of contempt. “I’m just giving her some friendly advice.”

  “Nothing out of your mouth has ever been friendly.”

  Priscilla laughed. “I’m tired of being surrounded by lowborn scum. As a daughter of nobility, Ella, I’m alarmed you don't share my thoughts. Let her leave now. It's not as if she actually stands a chance.” Priscilla called out to someone who had been standing off to the side. “Darren, weren't we just saying how silly it is that the lowborns are here in the first place?”

  The non-heir's eyes met mine, and I looked away. He'd had plenty of opportunities to criticize me in the past, so why stop now?

  “No.”

  My head jerked, and I looked back to the prince.

  Priscilla made a small sound of indignation. “But you said—”

  “I said that they were foolish.” Dark garnet eyes never left mine. “But that doesn’t mean they shouldn't try.” He turned and walked away, leaving Priscilla, Ella, and me in his wake.

  I couldn’t move. For a moment, all I could do was stare at Priscilla as she chased after the prince down the hall. She was raising her hands and arguing, but I couldn’t hear a word.

  “That was strange.”

  I didn't know how to respond. Had Darren just defended me to Priscilla?

  “Well,” Ella went on awkwardly, “that might be the first and only time I ever agree with a prince.” She pulled me to her side and gave me a big hug. “You’re better than the lot of them. Don’t forget that. We both are.”

  I told myself she was right. And for the rest of the day, I didn’t want to cry. I wanted to fight.

  IN THE WEEK THAT FOLLOWED
, three more students withdrew.

  Priscilla didn’t say a word.

  We were down to thirty-three in Combat, and Alex and Ruth informed me their numbers had dwindled as well. The exact number was revealed during the final day of our fifth month at the Academy.

  “Sixty-three gone.” Master Barclae gave us a frightening smile over the evening meal. “We’ve met our goal and disposed of half the waste that was taking up our valuable resources and time.”

  That many? I glanced at my friends. They exchanged looks. None of us had realized how many had left. It was too hard to notice when you were focusing on yourself.

  Fifty-nine of us left.

  “In celebration of reaching our goal,” the man continued, “the masters and I have decided to include you in our annual winter solstice ball the night before your weeklong reprieve. This festivity is for the apprenticing mages who depart for field training the following day.”

  Does that mean we can talk to them?

  “As such, this will be your one and only opportunity to participate in activities with those you would not have the pleasure of speaking to otherwise. Do not waste it.” Barclae raised his goblet and roared, “To fifty-nine!”

  To fifty-nine indeed.

  “CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, RY?” Ella leaned over in her cot when I returned from the library much later that night.

  “You're still awake?” The bell had just sounded for the second hour into early morning. I was already asleep on my feet.

  She watched me pull off my boots and tuck my sack under the bed. “I can’t sleep.”

  “I wish I had your affliction.” The only reason I was here was because Darren had heard me snoring on the third floor of the library and shaken me awake. It was the first time he hadn’t conjured water instead. I still wasn’t sure what to think about his random act of kindness. Or was that the second?

  Or a third?

  Dear gods, how many times before I considered him my friend?

  Ella tilted her head. “It’s good to see you back at it.”

  I shrugged. The time for morbid self-reflection was past. “I've made it this far. I'm going to stick it out.”

  It was funny, but it took until I said the words aloud to realize I actually meant them. I was here to stay.