by Rick Field
She wondered at his background, but knew that she could not ask, under the Rules of Equality that forbade such discussions.
Suddenly, she became aware that he was no longer next to her. Stopping, she took the five steps back to where Milor was, standing at a stall. A little dismayed, she saw him hand over two coppers in exchange for a single pear. Two coppers could have bought four pears for a Commoner, yet he did not seem to care or notice.
“My Lady,” he said, presenting her with the fruit. “I do believe this is your favorite.”
Gratefully, she accepted the blushing fruit, and bit into it. Tears stung at her eyes, not because of the pear, but for what it represented: the care and worry of a friend. Milor cared, and had taken her to this market that he knew she enjoyed even though he did not, and bought her this pear because he knew that it would make her feel better.
When she swallowed, it was more than just fruit. It was friendship.
“People come to the Academy,” she heard him say, “and they abandon their families in a way. Not allowed contact for as long as their education lasts, up to eight years, they may as well call it leaving the family. I believe that most Initiates are lonely, and worried, and they do stupid things because of it. They band together, and they abhor those different, out of fear of being labeled 'different' themselves. That is not your fault, nor mine, nor even theirs. It is just human nature.”
He faced her, in the middle of the Common Market, with people scurrying about their business, giving the two Nobles a wide berth even though they were in the middle of the road and horribly in the way. “But I do remember when I first came to the Academy, determined not to be noticed, wanting to take a seat at the back, and finding a young Mage-to-be who seemed incredibly lonely, scared, and not nearly as awed as she should be.”
He touched her elbow, about as intimate a gesture as she had ever received from him. “And I took a chance and asked her if I could sit down. I was as pompous as I could be about it, thinking that she would certainly tell me that she was waiting for someone else. I took a chance, and she looked so incredibly relieved that someone would talk to her. And I do believe I have not regretted taking that chance ever since.” He released her elbow, and for a moment, looked impish.
“Although I have come close when she managed to get me to take Runes, Glyphs & Magical Symbols,” he said, his voice having a slight tint of humor in it.
She bit off a laugh. “I am glad you took that chance, My Lord. Thank you for taking that chance.”
“Thank you for allowing me to sit down, My Lady,” he replied easily. “And you are very welcome.”
They strolled through the market, talking and just enjoying the time spent together. When lunch hour came, they refrained from returning to the Academy and ate at a stall. The food was nowhere near as good as the Academy's fine kitchen provided, but it was hot and filling.
By the time Liane and Milor returned to the Academy, the sun was starting to set, and dinnertime would soon follow. After an entire day spent at the market, their clothes were dusty, and so they went their separate ways – each to their own room, for a shower and a change of clothes. It would not do for a Noble to been in anything but pristine robes.
Rather than go immediately to the dining hall, Liane made a detour after her shower and her change of clothes, and walked down the flights of stairs of the laboratory building, stopping in front of the grate that sealed off the advanced ritual chambers of the fifth level underground.
“Liane, The MagicWarper, requesting entrance,” she said, voice quivering slightly. She didn't know whether she would be admitted entrance; just like how the fourth level was currently sealed for her. She looked longingly at the door leading to the fourth level of the library. She knew what treasures were present there, and wished she could, once again, get access to them.
It would have to wait, as the grate decided to admit her, and grumbled as it retracted into the walls. Walking down to the fifth level, Liane hunted for a spare ritual room.
Finding one, she retrieved the empty plaque from its holder. “Liane, The MagicWarper,” she wrote. “Magical Experimentation.”
The plaque flashed, her writing replaced by larger, printed letters. She affixed the plaque to the 'in use' section of the door, which immediately joined into one. It would remain that way until Liane told the room she no longer needed it.
She had no time to start her experimentation now, she turned and walked back to the ground level, where she would join Milor for a good dinner. After a day spent outside, she was more tired physically than mentally, a state she was not at all used to; but a nice dinner would sure hit the spot.
As she climbed the stairs, her mind wandered to what she would find in her experiments. Earlier today, she had felt the confusion in her magic at her words, and she wondered just how much success she would have, studying her magic in detail while casting the most simple of spells.
*****
Liane approached the room on the bottom level of the laboratory building, and took the time to wipe a bit of dust and grime from the plaque on the door. For the last five months, this had been her ritual room, the room where she had spent an awful amount of time, trying to come to a deeper understanding of her magic.
In some cases, forgoing further research, skipping meals, and missing hours of sleep to do so.
She pushed the door open, and stepped inside. The dark walls, floor, and ceiling of the room now contained runic circles of various sizes, shapes and intricacies, and Liane released a deep breath as she studied them, making sure that nothing had happened to them in her absence. Even though nobody should be able to enter a ritual room when it was claimed, one could never be sure of anything.
Her Runes, Glyphs & Magical Symbols Doctoris was the same one who had taught Cassandra, and he was still insisting upon safety above all.
Thankful for the room's ability to isolate magic, Liane walked to the center circle, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths to relax. For months, she had been working on this, and although progress was being made, it was far from the speedy progress she would have liked.
At least she was able to do some transmutations now; that counted for something.
She started with a simple control spell, and created a ball of white light that floated above her open palm. The light was slightly larger than it was yesterday, and slightly brighter. It also bopped up and down, showing the instability of her magic.
She hadn't noticed that before, never really studying her spells once they were cast successfully.
The magic in her chest sputtered, almost pulsating on the same rhythm as her heart, the ball of white light bopping up and down on the same pulse. She whispered a second light spell.
This one resulted in a smaller, darker ball of white light settling over her left palm.
Further indication of her magic's instability. Same spell, different results. Studying the two balls, she dispelled the ball on the left, casting again, this time changing a few accents in her pronunciation. A larger, brighter ball of white light appeared, almost identical to the first one.
“Better,” she told herself. “Keep feeling. Must keep feeling.” She dispelled the left ball again, and whispered the spell again, once more shifting it subtly in response to how her magic felt. The ball that appeared was virtually identical to the ball above her right hand, the two spells subtly bopping up and down.
“Good,” she whispered, dispelling both light spells. “Better.” She closed her eyes, and decided to start on the real exercise. Playing with light settled her, and by extent her magic, down.
Feeling her body center itself, she entered a slight meditative trance, and pointed one finger at the wall in front of her. Her attention firmly on her magic, she studied how it was behaving, how it was reacting. Sometimes, it was almost as if it had emotions, as if it could actually feel, rather than react.
The words rolled over her lips with nary a thought. Her attention shifted, seeing her magic fuel the spell
she cast, feeling the energy flow through her body, sputtering and hissing and spitting.
A slow pulse of magic formed and flowed away from her. The magic within her body reacted slightly, as if curious and excited. The pulse of magic reached the walls, then returned to her. The words for the spell changed slightly, her magic was now more curious and active, meaning the spell needed to draw slightly less power to achieve the same effect.
The words adapted as needed, the spell caught the returning wave of magic, and pulsed it back to the walls, adding to the power as it did so. The now stronger pulse of magic traveled faster, hitting the walls harder, and returned more quickly. Her magic had felt the second spell, and now seemed fully awake rather than in the calm and meditative state. The words changed again, catching the spell on its return and rebounding it to the walls.
The spell once again increased in speed and strength, and Liane stared at her magic, feeling it sputter and react, and tried to catch the return-wave. Her spell undershot the mark by a wide margin, and the wave imploded in her.
The world went dark.
An unknown amount of time later, Liane crawled upright from her position on the floor, feeling her body ache. She hadn't failed this spectacularly since her first attempt at this exercise. Her magic must be particularly unstable today.
Crossing her legs, Liane attempted to meditate. She knew the source of her agitation. Florindra had once again commented on her lack of practical abilities in transmutation and alchemy.
“Why must you be so difficult?” she whispered to her magic. “No matter what I do, you will not do what I need.”
The magic in her chest, feeling like solid ground, reacted with the same astonishment as it always had. Rubbing her eyes behind closed lids, Liane stared at her magic, not knowing what to do to get through to it. It sat there, in her chest, staring back.
Liane blinked her eyes open. Staring back? What made her think her magic was staring back at her? She'd never thought that before.
“You don't understand me,” she said to her magic, which sent back the usual astonishment. She was getting tired of receiving that from her magic every time she tried to talk to it. Getting fed up; she threw a basic rune at it. Nothing serious, just a standard ehwaz rune.
To her utmost surprise, her core sent back a different rune. The response itself made no sense; the teiwaz rune had no logical connection to the ehwaz rune, apart from their relatively similar pronunciations.
Thinking that she was making progress, she threw a why sequence at her core, spelling her question using the runic script that had finally gotten her an illogical answer.
She received no reply apart from the usual blank astonishment.
She sighed dejectedly, realizing that her magic would never truly be easy to understand, and that so far, it was only reacting to her, rather than communicating with her.
But at least she had made some progress, and she took hope from the fact that she got another illogical response when sending her core an ansuz rune.
Chapter Six
Liane paced angrily through the dueling chamber; her hands signifying the agitated mood she was in. “Through hard work and extremely long hours, I managed to become the fifth year Prime Student, yet the Lady Florindra still saw fit to comment upon my disability when it comes to practical applications!” she stopped her pacing, and faced Milor, who had his arms crossed as he listened to her tirade. “Why have I even bothered to work long and hard, partly taming my broken magic, when I am only subjected to yet more scorn!?”
“You are starting to repeat yourself, My Lady,” Milor said gently, stepping up to her. “I understand your agitation, and the sense of dishonor you are feeling. Perhaps it is finally time to challenge the Lady Florindra?”
Her face twitched as she turned angrily to one of the bare walls. “The Lady Florindra Earthcrafter does have one point. I was lucky that magical theory features heavily on all the tests, and that the practical demonstrations demanded were all things we have done before. Had they been new applications, I would not have been able to become Prime Student.”
“You have done excellent work, My Lady. I am present during Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols, after all, so I have witnessed your work ethic and the level of your work first-hand. You deserve that Prime Student spot, and should not allow one Mage to implore otherwise. Yes, you have a disability. That you are able to overcome that disability through hard work and dedication is nothing short of admirable.”
Her face twitched again, and both her hands came up. The magic, screaming and hissing in her chest since Florindra had insulted her yet again, finally was allowed to release. Raw magic shaped not through her words but through her emotions, forming raw storms of energy that snapped at the wall in front of her. Her magic sight allowed her to see the invisible protections embedded into the wall dispersing her unfocused magical power.
Thirty seconds later, the energy storm died down, and Liane was left panting. She turned to Milor.
He was looking extremely impressed. “I believe, My Lady,” he said, “that it would be my honor to serve as your second in a duel against the Lady Florindra.”
She shook her head, once, as she regained her breath. Milor had been offering since their first year, ever since Florindra had insulted her at the naming ceremony. “Ever since I was nearly killed during that disastrous duel in my second year, I do not believe I would be able to challenge someone to a duel, My Lord.”
He nodded. “I can understand that, My Lady. The event was extremely traumatic, even for us who were witnesses. As a Warlock, however, I have been instructed in techniques to move past such traumatic past events.”
She looked at him, a tiny ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “I believe I am envious of you once more, My Lord.” she straightened out, having caught her breath. “Perhaps a friendly mock-duel will do me good. I still have some stress that I would like to get rid of.”
“Very well, My Lady,” he agreed. “I believe it is your turn to pick. How would you like this to go?”
“However you deem fit, My Lord,” Liane replied, lifting her hands. “As long as I am allowed to do the same.”
“Please remind me, My Lady. What elements have you already mastered?”
“That would be metal, wood, lighting, and air, in that order, My Lord,” she replied levelly, thinking about the book Cassandra had left her, complete with spells that were still far beyond Liane's level, even after completing the year-long course of air mastery. Cassandra's natural affinity had boosted her own genius, and even now, Liane was struggling with some of the more basic concepts. This was her fifth year, however. She would be studying the book more in-depth this year.
“Very well, My Lady,” Milor said after a moment's deliberation. “Everything goes.”
A gleeful smile threatened to erupt on Liane's lips before it was repressed. A single wave of her hand coupled to a shortened word conjured a sheet of paper against the ceiling. Exercises in magical control had definitely paid off.
As it floated down, both mock-combatants readied themselves, Milor drawing his sword and Liane bending slightly through her knees to increase her grip on the floor.
The moment the paper reached the floor, Liane's hands and mouth incanted a metal-control spell, knowing it was futile thanks to the runes she herself had put on the weapon, but wanting to stay in the habit. One day she might need to fight a Warlock whose blade was not protected.
The runic protection on the blade glowed angrily, canceling her control over the metal in the sword.
Milor simultaneously snapped a spell, making Liane dodge under the influence of her magic sight. The bolt of Death Magic splashed harmlessly against the wall behind her, but Liane ignored it the moment it had passed her.
As she righted herself, she mouthed her follow-up spell. A concussive blade of air to lashed out at her opponent, who blurred and dodged through and around her repeated spells, all the while closing in on her position.
Taking two ste
ps back to increase the distance made her lose control over her air-blades, allowing him to make a short sprint toward her while lifting his sword into the air. As he charged, his speed increased even further, blurring him to her sight and making it nearly impossible to strike clearly at him.
Electricity leaped from her fingers as she whispered a new spell-word. Yet somehow the strike arrived a fraction of time too late, causing the protections on the floor to flare up as they cancelled the damage that would have otherwise occurred.
Both froze when his blade arrived at her head.
“You must teach me that spell, My Lord,” Liane said, breathlessly. Milor smiled faintly.
“Boosting one's thought processes to decrease reaction times and speed up motion is quite handy, My Lady, but it can also cause severe brain and nerve damage when abused. I will teach it to you on the promise that you will be cautious with it,” he stated. Liane nodded, and gave him a small smile.
“Thank you, My Lord,” she said. She lifted her hands. “Shall we go again?”
He smiled faintly, retook his position. “We shall go again, My Lady.” He picked up the discarded piece of paper, and threw it up into the air. Again, they watched it float down.
Not going for the blade this time, Liane struck at him with a ball of lightning that reached from between her fingers with only half a word.
Her magic really was getting easier to control.
Milor hefted his sword, accepting the strike on the flat of his weapon, and eyeing her as the discharge flashed to the floor around him, deflecting under the influence of both his weapon and his own lightning-attuned magic.
While Milor struggled with her lightning bolt, her free left hand came up, pointing at his feet with more words rolling off her lips. The floor underneath Milor's feet warped and formed as if turning fluid, encasing his feet before hardening. She could see him bite off a curse as he angrily reached for his bounds with the sword, a plan he canceled when she started to bombard him with lightning and air. He deflected the spells using his sword, before it let out a high-pitched wail.