The Other Prism (The Broken Prism)

by St. Clair, V.

  “Okay, when do you think we should meet?”

  “Hmm…well I’ve got some other commitments for a research project right now, so we might be working at odd hours. Stop by my office just before lights-out tonight and I can walk you through the basics at least.”

  “Alright, I’ll be there.” Hayden entered the dining hall and turned to join his friends, trying not to think about how exhausted he was going to be if he was spending his nights doing extra work on prisms in addition to his normal class load and challenge arena practice sessions.

  He sat down beside Zane and across from Tess, informing them both that their first practice would be on Lenthin, which didn’t come as a surprise to either of them.

  “One of us better tell Lorn so he can’t blame us for excluding him,” Zane sighed regretfully, “though nothing would make me happier.”

  “I’ll do it tomorrow in Elixirs,” Hayden volunteered. “And while we’re on the subject of Lorn…” he started as neutrally as possible, “we all know how annoying he is, but we also need to learn to work with him, so let’s try to keep the animosity to a minimum.”

  Zane and Conner stared at him as though he’d just grown a second head. Even Tess lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

  “Since when did you decide to make peace with the Trouts?” Zane asked in disbelief.

  “I’m not saying we need to be friends with him, we just need to learn to work together if we don’t want to botch up our arenas,” Hayden replied with a frown.

  “If you say so, boss.” Zane shrugged.

  “Let’s talk about something more cheerful,” Tamon grimaced. “Like game night.”

  “Oh yeah, Hayden, I meant to tell you,” Zane brightened immediately. “We’re all going to get together after dinner tonight in the common area for game night. We decided that we’re not having nearly as much fun as we need to at school. Are you in?”

  Frowning, Hayden shook his head.

  “Sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got homework to do and I’ve got to finish it before lights out, because I’m supposed to meet Master Asher to do some more prism work to get ready for the I.S.C.”

  Tess looked disappointed. The others were incredulous.

  “You’ve got extra lessons with Asher after dinner? When are you supposed to sleep?” Zane asked.

  “No idea, but the first competition is the day before our first arena challenge, so I’m probably going to have my nose to the grindstone until that’s finished and I have some idea of what I’m doing, though I guess if I lose in the first round of the competition the rest of my year will be a lot less busy.”

  Tamon grimaced and said, “Well don’t you dare fail out on purpose; they’ll skin you alive—or worse, expel you.”

  Hayden waved a hand in acknowledgement and returned to his pea soup, yawning widely and wondering if he was tired because of stress or because of the magic he used in Charms class this morning.

  It took him the better part of the evening to finish his homework, and he wasn’t at all sure that his Conjury essay was as good as it could have been, but he had no choice unless he wanted to be late for his meeting with the Prism Master. As it was, he was still cutting it close on his timing, and had jogged past the common area and down two flights of stairs before realizing that he still had Bonk sitting on his shoulder.

  There was no time to return his familiar to the dorm room, so he told Bonk to be good unless he wanted to wait in the hallway. Stopping just long enough to catch his breath, Hayden knocked on the door to Master Asher’s office on the ground floor, not terribly far from where his private living area was located.

  “Come in,” the Prism Master called out from inside, and Hayden pushed the door open and entered the room.

  If Hayden had ever thought that the desk in Master Asher’s classroom was cluttered, he revoked the sentiment immediately. The Prism Master’s office made his classroom look positively tidy. Four desks had been pushed together in the center of the room to form one massive table, which was entirely covered by large sheets of paper with partial prisms and complex alignments drawn on them. Sheaves of paper were stacked on the floor, lining the walls, and an entire bookshelf was crammed full of partial prisms: some were lopsided, others looked like they had holes carved out of the center of them, and some were three different colors.

  For a long moment, Hayden stood in the doorway and looked around the room, trying to take it all in. He had absolutely no idea how the Prism Master could ever find anything he was looking for.

  Asher was sitting in one of three chairs in the room, reclined back with his feet propped up on the large table of drawings. His eyepiece was in front of his left eye, and he was looking through a violet-tinted crystal prism as well as a clear one, which he was holding up in front of it.

  “Just a second, I’m tracking an alignment,” the Prism Master greeted him, rotating the clear prism slowly and cocking his head to one side. Trying not to bother him, Hayden sat down in one of the other chairs, forbade Bonk from spitting fire under any circumstances (as much paper as there was, the entire room would likely go up in flames), and examined the top sheet of paper on the floor nearest him. There were a surprising number of calculations and angles drawn on it; Hayden didn’t understand a bit of it.

  “Okay, I’ve got it,” Asher captured his attention, returning the clear prism to his belt and moving his eyepiece out of the way so that it rested on top of his head. “Been chasing that one for a while now; twenty-six bands long and I still can’t tell if it actually does anything useful.”

  Hayden wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and Master Asher changed the subject before he could think of anything.

  “Anyway, you don’t care about that. Let’s talk about the Inter-School Championship. What do you know about it so far?”

  Hayden frowned thoughtfully. “Not much, just that the five eastern schools compete and the four western schools compete, and the winners from each go up against each other in the finals.”

  “Actually, you’re in luck. We only go up against the western schools every four years, because organizing that kind of effort is a nightmare. We’re on one of the off-years right now, so this is really just the Eastern I.S.C.”

  Hayden wasn’t remotely upset to learn that there was one less competition for him to partake in this year.

  “I’ll tell you how the tournament is going to go,” Master Asher said. “The five Prisms—one from each school—will meet first at Valhalla in Amvale. You’ll duke it out over whatever challenge they give you, and whoever comes in last place will be out of the competition. The remaining four will then go on to round two, which will take place here at Mizzenwald. After that it’s Isenfall, and lastly Branx, in Wynir.”

  “Has the Prism for Mizzenwald ever lost in the very first round before?” Hayden didn’t like to think of himself being the first to disgrace the school.

  Master Asher gave him an understanding smile when he answered. “Yes, but not in almost thirty years. On the other hand, after me, you’re the youngest to compete for Mizzenwald during that time frame, so just do your best and no one will think the worse of you even if you do come home early. Well, they might—” Master Asher quickly amended, “—but I doubt anyone except for the Trouts will tease you about it to your face.”

  Hayden had more important things on his mind than whether or not the Trouts would tease him.

  “Wait, you were my age when you were in the I.S.C.?”

  Master Asher smirked. “The second time, yes. I was eleven on my first go around.”

  Hayden’s mouth dropped open dumbly. “You were the best prism-user in the school when you were eleven?”

  “Apparently,” he shrugged. “As you’ve seen, natural prisms are hard to come by. Anyway, that’s not important right now. Let’s see…other relevant information…” he frowned, glancing at his chrono and yawning. “Oh yes, everyone in the competition will be using level-three prisms, in order to prevent naturals like you from equipping mast
ery-level prisms and wiping the floor with everyone else by default. So from that perspective, you’ll be on the same playing field as everyone else.”

  That was mildly reassuring, because at least no one would be able to beat him just by virtue of having better instruments. Hayden still had questions about how it felt to be so young in the competition, but it seemed that Master Asher had no desire to reflect on his school days, because he kept changing the subject abruptly back to Hayden.

  “I see you’re wearing a defensive charm around your neck,” the Prism Master pointed to the shield Hayden had acquired just that morning. “Did you make it yourself?”

  “Yeah—well, I put my own spells into it, but I didn’t make the actual emblem,” he explained.

  “What’s on it?”

  Hayden told him, and Master Asher lifted his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

  “That’s probably the best you’ll be able to manage before the I.S.C. starts, and you’re allowed to bring one item from the minor arcana with you during the competition. I would advise wearing that charm at all times; it won’t block everything, but it will give you a constant, low level of protection against various attacks.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I put so many spells on it, because I was hoping it would do me some good this year until I can make something better,” Hayden agreed.

  “Good, so now that we’ve got that ironed out, I suppose I’d better start showing you some more useful arrays in your prisms. See if you can find a blank sheet of paper to take notes on and we’ll get started.”

  Hayden glanced around the room doubtfully, because every scrap of paper he saw was covered in diagrams or calculations, and he didn’t want to go digging through piles of important research.

  “Uh, I don’t see any…” he began, and Master Asher frowned and began rifling through a stack of papers in front of him in search for something to write on.

  “Aha!” He grinned and handed Hayden a piece of paper that was covered in sketches on the front but had nothing on the back. “You can use the back of that; I don’t need those notes anymore.”

  Unable to resist, Hayden asked, “How do you keep track of everything in here?”

  The Prism Master looked surprised at being asked.

  “I don’t, really. I lose things all the time,” he admitted with a shrug.

  “Why don’t you try to be…you know…a bit neater?”

  Master Asher snorted in amusement. “I’m much too smart to be organized.” He tossed Hayden a pencil that was sharpened almost down to the nub. “Alright, equip your rose prism and let’s begin…”

  7

  Valhalla

  Hayden never knew that having such an exciting life could be so boring. The next two weeks were consumed with schoolwork, studying, extra lessons, and more studying. He barely saw his friends outside of classes and mealtimes, which Zane called attention to by reintroducing himself on the night before the Eastern Inter-School Championship was set to begin.

  As soon as Hayden was finished doing whatever task they set for him, in a place he’d never been, in front of an audience who would be judging him, he would have just enough time to hurry back to Mizzenwald and prepare for his team’s first challenge arena on the following night.

  The only thought that sustained him right now was that according to Master Asher—who had been coaching him almost nightly in the use of prisms for the last two weeks—there was a two-month break between the first and second trials for the I.S.C., so he would have time to slow down and relax if he could just make it through the next couple of days in one piece.

  The first trial was set to take place at Valhalla, in the neighboring land of Amvale. Hayden woke at dawn and dressed quietly to avoid disturbing his roommates, nudging Bonk into action and slipping out of the dormitory and into the hallway. His stomach was doing nervous little flips, and he began running through everything Master Asher had attempted to teach him in the last two weeks, hoping that it was enough to keep him from returning to Mizzenwald in disgrace this evening.

  He was almost to the main stairwell when a door he passed opened quietly, and Hayden stopped in his tracks at the sight of Tess looking bedraggled.

  “Oh good, I was hoping I didn’t miss you,” she whispered, stifling a yawn.

  “What are you doing up this early?” Hayden asked her.

  “I wanted to wish you luck before you left, and you said you all were leaving early in the morning, so I told Mittens to wake me at dawn.”

  He nodded, stunned by her consideration.

  “Thanks, I’ll need all the luck I can get,” he replied. “Look, I’d better get going…see you tonight.”

  She gave him her usual shy smile. “Take care.”

  Feeling slightly more cheerful, he continued onto the stairwell with Bonk on his shoulder, taking the stairs two at a time to wake himself up. The castle was eerie when it was this empty and quiet, and his footsteps echoed loudly on the marble floor as he walked through the Pentagon and down the corridor to the dining hall. Team Mizzenwald was supposed to meet for an early breakfast and some last words of encouragement from the Masters before they departed.

  Only one of the long wooden tables had food set out on it, as there were only ten of them eating breakfast right now. The Masters were standing along one side of the table and their students on the other. The only one of Hayden’s teammates he had ever spoken to before was Oliver Trout, who won his spot on the team in Powders. Oliver looked slightly green as he finished pulling together a plate of food and followed Master Sark to a vacant table on the other side of the room so that they could talk strategy, or maybe they just didn’t want to sit near Hayden.

  Master Kilgore and the Elixirs Champion, a sixth-year boy named Griff, sat at one end of the table with all the food, eating porridge and doing a last-minute inventory of the elixirs Griff was taking with him to Valhalla. Master Willow and his student, a seventh-year girl named Reya, took their food to another vacant table. Reede and his apprentice were either finished eating or else neither was hungry, because they were drawing conjury circles in chalk on the floor of the dining hall.

  Master Asher was leaning against the wall looking distracted until he saw Hayden enter the room. He waited patiently while Hayden put a few scoops of oat paste into a bowl— he doubted he had the will to eat anything heartier right now—and then motioned for Hayden to join him outside.

  Their footsteps echoed loudly on the floor until they stepped into the balmy outdoors, and Hayden headed for one of the stone benches in the main courtyard and began forcing himself to eat oat paste while Bonk chased a squirrel.

  “How are you feeling?” Master Asher asked after a moment of silence, smirking when he saw Cinder dive-bomb an unsuspecting Bonk near the obstacle courses.

  “Nervous,” Hayden admitted.

  “Understandable. Just stay calm and you’ll do fine,” Asher assured him. A few moments of silence elapsed, during which Hayden forced down a spoonful or two of oat paste.

  “Oh, I meant to ask you, have you finished with my defensive charm?” Hayden broke the silence, suddenly remembering. The Prism Master had asked to borrow his charm two days ago, saying that he wanted to make a small (perfectly legal) modification to it.

  “Ah, yes, it’s right here.” Asher reached into one of the deep pockets in his robes and extracted the charm, handing it back to him. Hayden examined it, but it didn’t appear any different than before.

  “What did you do to it?” he asked curiously.

  “I just linked it to myself as well, so that if you use it at maximum strength it will let me know you’re in trouble,” he explained. “Which brings me to my next point: don’t use it at maximum strength unless you need help.”

  Hayden raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You mean if I hold it in my hand while using it, you’re going to pop up and start attacking things for me?”

  Master Asher smirked. “Something like that, yes. It’s not ideal, but we’re not allowed to go with you to any of
the other schools, and I don’t like the thought of leaving you on your own around powerful mages who are likely to be prejudiced against you because of your surname.”

  The oat paste felt extremely dry in Hayden’s mouth all of a sudden, and he had a hard time swallowing.

  “You think someone might try to hurt me?”

  “I certainly hope not, but you can never be sure. Let us hope that I am just being overcautious.” He gave Hayden a small smile. “You shouldn’t need to use your charm at full strength during the natural course of the championship anyway; it will provide you a decent level of protection against minor magic as long as you’re wearing it. Which brings me to my next bit of advice: don’t take that charm off of your neck for any reason this year, both here and in the competition.”

  Hayden tilted his head to the side in surprise.

  “Even at Mizzenwald? But I was hoping to upgrade to a better charm later in the year once I’ve mastered the basics in Master Dirqua’s class.”

  Asher shook his head.

  “Trust me on this one; I have your best interests at heart. You will not get a better protective charm this year, and you have enough offensive magic that there’s no point swapping for an offensive charm and leaving yourself vulnerable. Swear to me that you won’t remove that charm until the end of the year, not even in the shower, then we can reevaluate where things stand.”

  Hayden still wasn’t sure he liked the thought of being stuck with the same low-level defense charm all year long, but so far Master Asher’s advice had never led him astray so he said, “I promise I won’t take it off.” Besides, it would be nice to know that if he accidentally got transported to another warg-infested den instead of his challenge arena, he would be able to summon Master Asher to him in an instant for help instead of running around the pitch-black cave like an idiot.

  “Good. And remember what I said about not linking it to your Foci unless you are in great danger, because I’m sure people will frown upon me popping into the middle of the I.S.C., so it’s the kind of thing you can really only pull off once.”