by Mike Shelton
Onius motioned for Roland to sit down on a stone bench there. Limbs of a large apple tree hung behind them, with small apples beginning to grow. The Citadel sat in front of them, looming up into multiple stories, surrounded by parapets and balconies. The early afternoon air was warm and pleasant in the shade.
“Roland, during the test, you must control yourself. You must show discipline and, above all, a regard for the Citadel and its wizards.”
“But I know so much, Onius, and hold so much power inside; they’ll have to name me a wizard when they see what I can do alone.”
Onius took a deep breath and let it out in a quick rush. “Being a wizard is not only about power, Roland, it is about thinking with a clear head, having discipline, and showing loyalty. We have been given a great gift and must be careful not to misuse it.”
Roland shook his head, and his voice grew serious. “Onius, you speak of loyalty, but what you are doing now?” He searched for the right words. “It seems you are becoming closer to the High Wizard than to the Chief Judge of the land. How is that being loyal?”
Onius’s face grew red. “Look, boy. What do you understand of the things of the world? I am loyal to the Citadel and all it stands for. There is loyalty among the wizards that you will learn in your test. I am loyal to the ideal that what we possess is a gift to be used to help others. I am loyal to preserving this kingdom with as little chaos as possible.”
“Sounds cryptic to me, Onius.” Roland stood face to face with the counselor.
“There is a hierarchy in loyalty, Roland,” Onius said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “That is what the test is all about. I do not want to hurt the Chief Judge. He is a good man, and I will ask him to step down peacefully, if it comes to that. But I truly believe that as the barrier fails and we are opened up to other lands once again, we will need a strong king. The timing may not be the best, but the situation may warrant it.”
Roland waved a hand in the air. “And I am guessing that this king should be Kanzar?”
“That is none of your business, young man. If you pass the test—and I mean if—you will pledge your loyalty to the Citadel and its wizards above all else. You will serve whom you are expected to serve and none else. If that means serving a king, then that is what it will mean.”
“I have no problem with a king, Onius. I do have a problem with people pretending to be something they are not or using their positions to intimidate others. You call me arrogant and spoiled. You have said I don’t take things seriously, but this is a serious matter if you are talking treason.”
Onius furrowed his brows at his young apprentice. What did this youngster really think? He was only sixteen years of age. Onius barely remembered back that far. Had he been as bad as Roland? He didn’t think so; at least, he hoped not. Onius felt a momentary sympathy for his own past mentors and instructors.
Roland continued, “Well, Onius, I am arrogant because of the power I hold. I am not pretending to be something I am not or hiding my loyalty behind my rank or playing both sides of a conflict, hoping to come out on top. I am who I am. And I am simply one of the most powerful wizards you will ever know.”
Onius couldn’t control himself. He burst out laughing at Roland’s dramatics. “My, my, my. I think you may be in for a rude awakening during the testing, Roland. Wizards from the fourth and fifth levels will be on the Council. They have been practicing this craft for decades upon decades. Your power will be nothing to theirs.”
Roland opened his mouth, but Onius stopped him from speaking with a wave of his hand.
“Control your ego for an hour, Roland—during the test. Show your loyalty to them, and you may come out a full wizard. But don’t reach for the stars, or you may get burned.”
“And, what is that supposed to mean, Counselor?”
“That means don’t be a brat and alienate the Council. They hold all the power over you right now. Don’t blow this chance. Now, go prepare yourself. You would do well to try to meditate and calm down.”
Roland stepped away but then turned back around. “Onius,” he said softly, “I don’t think Alaris would survive with Kanzar as its king.”
Onius took a few steps closer to Roland. He examined the gardens. The colors and scents were so peaceful that it almost seemed incongruous with his internal struggles with chaos.
“Roland, these are stressful times for all,” Onius said in a soft voice. After all this time together, Roland could infuriate him without a moment’s notice, but he was still fond of the boy. “I agree with you, and I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen.”
Roland looked surprised at this admission.
Onius put his hand on Roland’s shoulder. “But, I do need to be careful,” Onius continued. “You’ve seen Kanzar. Right now, he trusts me, and with that trust, I can be privy to information others can’t access. There are plans that have been in play for decades which you know nothing about. Trust me, and don’t think too ill of me in the coming days.”
Onius didn’t leave Roland room to say or ask anything else. Now was neither the time nor the place. He left Roland standing in the garden.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Roland walked into the testing room. One chair stood in the middle, and eight wizards sat in high-backed stuffed chairs on raised platforms, half on either side of the room. Onius, one of the eight, sat next to Kanzar. Both hardly sent a glance in Roland’s direction.
Roland sat down in the chair and waited for instructions. He took a deep breath and forced his mind to relax, trying to take Onius’s counsel to heart. There was no way he would fail this test.
One of the wizards rose from his sizeable chair. “State your name, your apprentice training, and the purpose for being here today,” he said.
The man must have been over a hundred years old, his face full of wrinkles and his voice raspy. Roland wondered if the man had been around before the barrier went up. There were rumors of a few wizards surviving that long.
Roland stood, not knowing for sure what the protocol was, and pushed his blond locks out of his eyes. He smiled at both sides. “My name is Roland Tyre, from Westridge. I have been trained by Onius Neeland, as a counselor, but carry powers contributing to all disciplines…”
“This is not a time to tout yourself, young man, just answer the questions,” interrupted the old wizard.
Roland ground his teeth but continued. “I am here to be tested to be a full wizard.”
The old wizard turned to his colleagues and announced, “Be it known that Roland Tyre of Westridge, Counselor Apprentice, desires to be tested for wizard level one.”
Roland shifted his feet. He knew he shouldn’t say anything, but he felt that he had better speak up now, before it was too late. Level one was not his goal. Onius shook his head ever so slightly. Apparently, his mentor knew what Roland was thinking.
Needing clarification before he began, Roland raised his voice and said, “Speaker, excuse me.”
The Council did not look pleased.
Then the old wizard spoke. “Apprentice Tyre, this is not a time for conversation. These proceedings have an order to them.”
Roland was not deterred. He winked at the speaker, to the astonishment of the group. “My good wizard, I only wanted some clarification about the test. Sir, is this test merely for level one? Or, if I exceed that, will it suffice also for the other levels?”
The speaker’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Young man, as I said, there is an order to things. Wizard level one would be your first designation. Wizards can rise to new levels through experience and training, and only by the Council’s words.”
“But, what if I am stronger?” Roland blurted out.
“Enough!” blared Kanzar. He glared down at Roland. “You waste our time here, Apprentice. I warned Onius about overstepping his bounds and inviting you to test without our Council’s consideration. Do we need to disband this meeting?”
Roland couldn’t think of enough bad words f
or Kanzar Centari. The man was a bully and was trying to humiliate him as well as Onius. Roland glanced at Onius and noticed brief, but controlled hostility as Roland’s mentor glanced at Kanzar. There was bad blood brewing there, Roland guessed. He vowed right then that Kanzar would rue the day Roland became a full wizard.
Gritting his teeth, Roland stated, “I will take the test now, if the Council will allow it.” Then he added, “The test will show who I am.”
Eyebrows arched around the room, and the Council looked at Kanzar for direction. Their High Wizard sat down and nodded toward the speaker to proceed.
The old wizard who had first addressed Roland continued. “You will be given a drink. This drink will take you into the test. You will be presented with two sessions as parts of the test. Each session will test your ability to become a wizard and your loyalty to the Citadel. Each experience will seem real to you, and you won’t realize you are in a test, so your reactions will be genuine. We will be monitoring your responses, but you will not be able to communicate with us until the test is over.”
Roland nodded his head.
A man came out from a door with a glass of light blue liquid. He motioned for Roland to sit back in the chair. So Roland relaxed and took the drink in his hand. With a slight wink at Onius, he drank down all the liquid. It felt cool and sweet going down his throat, but with a bitter aftertaste. He closed his eyes, wondering how long it would take to affect him.
Roland was still aware of the room around him, the touch of the chair underneath him, and the breathing of the Council, when all of a sudden, he found himself standing inside the home where he had been raised.
In Roland’s mind he was thirteen years old again and, like most boys his age, didn’t like to work but had to do as his father told him. His father, the town carpenter, had made all the furniture in the Tyre family home, with the help of his three sons. Roland was the youngest. As such, he was teased by his older brothers, Thomas and Cade, that he was spoiled and always got what he wanted. Well, why shouldn’t he? He knew he was smarter, quicker, and more able than they. Things came easily to him.
Currently, he stood in the small living room of their home. He ran his hands over the smooth wooden walls as if remembering something. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different—something was wrong.
He heard his father and his two older brothers coming across the front field. Soon they entered, wiping their muddy shoes on the mat before coming farther into the small house.
“Quite a storm brewing out there. I’ve never seen its like before. Wind’s pickin’ up something terrible,” Roland’s father, Jarryd, said.
“Roland, what are you doing?” shouted his oldest brother, Thomas. “You’re standing there like you don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, Son, what are you doing? I asked you to make sure all the windows were covered,” his father said.
Roland thought a moment about what he was doing. He shook his head but still didn’t remember. He opened his mouth and closed it again.
“Well, get to it.” His father swatted him on the behind, and Roland went scampering to the windows. He heard the snickering of his brothers behind him.
Soon his mother came into the room. “Hurry and eat,” she told them, “so we can get the dishes all packed away before the storm hits.”
Roland sat down in between his two brothers, who were trying to keep the food from him. Instinctively, he reached out his hand and summoned the plate of pork toward himself, and it came. His brothers gasped, and his mother almost fainted.
Roland didn’t understand what had made him reach out with his mind like that. But, once he had done this, he found it reassuring and gave a smug look to his brothers. His father stayed silent, and the rest of the meal went on without much conversation.
Wind rattled against the outside of the house, and the family could hear trees creaking out in the small yard. Lightning flashed through the sides of the small windows, and the sound of thunder soon followed—too soon. A bright flare lit up the sky around their barn. It had been hit.
“The barn’s on fire!” yelled Cade.
Roland’s father stood up and headed toward the door. “I will go and check on it. Cade and Thomas, you come with me. Roland, stay and take care of your mother.”
Roland groaned. He was always the one told to stay and take care of his mother. He was thirteen now, almost a man. He should be able to help.
When his father opened the door, Roland ran out ahead of them. As he ran, he thought about how he had summoned the plate of food to himself. It had come so easily once he had thought about it. He smiled.
As he ran toward the burning barn, he laughed and thought to himself, Now I will show my brothers who is more important.
Upon reaching the barn, he sent his mind out toward the flames. Just as he had summoned the food to himself, he now directed the flames to move away from the barn. Holding his arms in the air, he concentrated hard and moved his arms to the side.
As he did so, he heard voices in the air, voices expressing surprise at “the power of one so young.” Then, off in the distance, he saw three riders approaching through the storm. They wore wizard robes and rode large black geldings. “Come with us, young wizard,” they beckoned him.
But the barn still burned. He turned back to it and forced his mind to concentrate again. If their barn burned, his family would lose so much; his father’s tools and wood were in the barn.
“You are one of us now, Roland. You must come with us,” the riders called again.
Back at the house, Roland’s mother screamed. Turning his head to the house, he saw a section of the roof fly off in the growing wind. It crashed into a nearby tree and broke into splinters. The roar of the wind grew louder, and Roland held on to a fence post for support. His body was now drenched, and his strength started to wane.
The three riders once again came closer. The storm did not seem to bother them. Their cloaks hung still on their stiff bodies. Roland blinked, trying to reason it out.
Using all the power he could, Roland finally persuaded the flames away from the barn. The back side was partially burned, but he could save the rest. His mother screamed again as another piece of roof caved in, smashing portions of their living room furniture.
Roland reached into the far recesses of his young mind to figure out what to do. Then he remembered where he really was, and jumbled thoughts raced through his mind: The test. The three wizards calling to him. The voices were the Council.
“He should not know about us,” the council members whispers reached his mind.
But he could hear them.
“It’s impossible, what he is doing,” another voice said. “Come to us. We are your family now. We can train you to be so much more,” the three riders said through the storm.
“Noooooooo,” Roland wailed out loud. “This is not real. A wizard should help others with his power. A wizard should not leave his family like this.”
“We are your family now, Roland. You must accept the Citadel as your family now, your brothers and sisters.”
With a push of his mind, he pushed the riders away. He extinguished the fire and then ran back to the house to help his mother. She lay trapped under a piece of the roof. His father and brothers helped him to lift it off of her, and Roland stayed there to make sure she was safe.
He then ran back outside and stretched his arms to the heavens. He spoke to the Council through his mind. What kind of test is this—to leave my family when they are in danger?
“Roland, you shouldn’t be doing this,” Onius’s voice cut through the loud wind. “This will break your mind. You can’t be in two places at one time.”
“My mind is stronger than you think, Onius! Power not only flows through my body. My body is power!” With one last effort, he pushed the storm away in his mind until only the sounds of dripping water from the trees up above could be heard. Then he turned to find his family, standing in astonishment in front of their front door.
“I love you,” he said to them. “But I need to go and be more than a carpenter or a younger brother. I am going to be one of the most powerful wizards in the world.”
With that, Roland summoned the three riders back toward him. The wizards squawked in surprise when Roland jumped out in front of them. He knew this was a test of his mind, so he was able to do things here that he couldn’t yet do in real life. He ran in front of the three wizards, leading them east, to the Citadel.
“Now you will follow me,” Roland commanded.
Suddenly, he found himself back in the chair in the testing room, and the noise was deafening. Every wizard spoke at once, most of them out of their seats. The three wizards still in their chairs slumped down, looking exhausted and worn out. They must have represented the three riders.
“Never before has this happened,” Roland heard someone say through the cacophony.
“It’s impossible. He cannot control enough power to push that storm away,” another said. “He led us here, instead of us leading him. That can’t be. He is just a boy.”
Roland stayed sitting, trying not to smile. He had shown them who was more powerful. He had accomplished their task to come with them, leaving his old life behind, but only after saving his family and ensuring their survival.
He heard footsteps through the noise, and a man brought him another glass of liquid. He took it and drank it in one quick gulp.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Roland now stood at the edge of the Elvyn Forest. River Bend sat a hundred feet away, through the trees. Glancing to his left and then his right, he noticed that he stood within a company of wizards.
“Roland, the rebels are here,” one said to him. The wizard that had spoken to him was older than Roland but was obviously a battle wizard. “We seek your counsel on the matter.”