Emonael smiled at the man, nodding to him as she replied. “I can understand that, I suppose, but I’ve only had the basics taught to me. A light spell and a few other things, really. Thank you for getting the door for me earlier. I’m Emonael, and this is Damiya. And you are?”
“Christoff Sormal, at your service,” the young man replied, smiling with obvious happiness. “It’s nice to meet both of you, and it was my pleasure.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Christoff,” Emonael replied gently, nodding to him, then taking a step forward as the line moved. “I do hope you pass, as well.”
“Do you have any idea what the test will be like, Emonael?” Damiya asked nervously. “I haven’t heard anything about it. I really hope it isn’t painful.”
“I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark as you are. I had a natural talent, something that was obvious without testing, so I was picked up early,” Emonael told her with a helpless shrug. “I doubt that it’d be painful, but there’s really no way for me to know.”
“That’s fair, I guess. I’m just nervous,” Damiya admitted, and a moment later the line moved again, putting the young woman next.
Emonael didn’t reply, keeping quiet as she saw the scribe quickly wave the person ahead of Damiya aside, then the man spoke in a brisk tone. “Name and hometown, please?”
“Damiya Dawnbreak, of Fairwater.” The young woman replied, then hesitated a moment before asking. “Umm, if you don’t mind me asking . . . is the test difficult, or painful?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. It’s easy and painless. If you’ll go through that door there, join the line and you can see how it works,” the scribe replied, smiling momentarily. “I don’t have time to explain. Move along.”
“Oh, umm, as you say,” Damiya replied, nodding nervously and heading for the door in the back of the room. Emonael stepped forward and spoke without giving the scribe a chance to speak.
“Emonael Teardrop of Nemea Lake,” she told him confidently. The man’s eyebrows rose a fraction, but he simply dipped his quill in his inkwell and wrote down the information.
“Thank you. Go right ahead,” the scribe replied, nodding as he continued. “Next, please!”
Emonael stepped into the next room and paused behind Damiya, looking at the room in amusement. There were a dozen people lined up, and a pair of magi in robes were in the center of the room, a scribe just behind them. Both magi were in gray robes, and the man was currently holding a faceted crystal orb the size of Emonael’s fist. The most interesting part to Emonael was that the crystal was glowing brightly with a bluish light.
“It looks like if it glows when you hold the orb, you have magical talent enough to pass the test. Easy, I guess, but kind of scary.” Damiya explained, and Emonael nodded in understanding.
“You’re right, that’s easy enough. I wonder how the orb works,” Emonael mused, inwardly amused. If it was that simple, likely as not the orb was checking the holder to see if they naturally had mana, in which case any demon would pass the test.
“I don’t know, I just hope it’s accurate!” Damiya said nervously, just as Christoff stepped into line behind them, followed by a couple of other applicants.
One prospective student after another stepped forward, and most of them slumped as the orb was placed in their hands and the light promptly died. In the case of one, it never dimmed, and the young man was quickly taken aside, his face beaming with delight. One other had light inside the orb, but it was dim, and the two magi discussed for a few moments before he was admitted as well. Then it was finally Damiya’s turn.
“Stand here and hold the orb when I hand it to you. It’s heavy; do not drop it,” the man explained sternly, frowning at Damiya as he paused.
“Y-yes, sir,” Damiya replied, swallowing visibly as she stood up straighter. For a long moment they waited, then the female mage nodded.
“Alright, we’re ready,” the woman spoke in satisfaction, and it took Emonael a moment to realize that there was a faint spell in the center of the room where Damiya was standing. The mage was powering it, and Emonael had to wonder what it did.
As the man placed the orb in Damiya’s hands, the light flickered slightly, dimming a bit but not as much as the one who’d been discussed earlier. At the sight, the male mage nodded firmly. “Looks like you have a midrange talent, at least. Welcome to the Association, if you still wish to join.”
“Of course I do!” Damiya exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the offer and clutching the orb more tightly. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to join!”
“Excellent, if you’ll go through that door, as soon as there are enough of you, one of the others will give an orientation,” the man replied, extending a hand to retrieve the orb.
“Thank you!” Damiya told him gratefully, giving Emonael a broad smile as she left the room and Emonael stepped into her place.
Emonael listened to the man’s warning and nodded, but focused on the spell around her for the moment, trying to figure out what it was doing. Finally, she realized that it was isolating her from surrounding mana to keep the orb from drawing mana from anything but what was inside the spell, and she smiled as she realized her suspicion was likely correct; the orb simply detected the presence of mana.
Taking the orb, which was as heavy as she expected, the demon smiled as instead of simply maintaining the light within it, the light grew even stronger, prompting a gasp from the female mage, her eyes widening as she murmured. “Oh, gods! That’s . . .”
“Absolutely incredible. You’ve the most talent we’ve seen yet! We’d love to welcome you into the Association, miss!” the man interjected in excitement.
“It’s why I came here, and I’m glad that I passed,” Emonael replied, smiling as she handed back the crystal and stepped toward the door in question, glancing around and seeing the looks of shock and envy from almost everyone in the room. A part of her wished that she’d known how to conceal some of her mana, as the attention was going to make things interesting.
Still, she stepped through the door that was indicated and into a smaller, much more comfortable chamber. Unlike the utilitarian previous room, this one had a fireplace, cushioned chairs, and several tables. There were four others in the room, obviously the other prospective students since she recognized the three who’d passed the test earlier. Damiya was sitting down and grinning broadly as she waved Emonael over.
“I can hardly believe I made it! And I saw your display; that’s amazing!” Damiya exclaimed, almost bouncing in her chair as Emonael sat. A moment later, Christoff stepped into the room.
“I may have talent, but who knows how it’ll turn out? I might not be able to find a teacher whose magic I can learn,” Emonael replied, shrugging slightly as she looked at Christoff and smiled warmly. “You passed, so that’s a good sign. Congratulations.”
“Maybe so, but after your test, they were a bit disappointed that my talent was actually slightly worse than Damiya’s,” Christoff replied, looking slightly chagrined. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I passed, but it was a little disappointing.”
“I’m sorry that I stole your thunder, though given their expressions . . .” Emonael teased, grinning at him and shrugging. “Still, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”
“How about going out to dinner with me?” Christoff asked, relaxing and laughing softly.
“Sure, why not?” Emonael replied, smiling as he suddenly stopped laughing, blinking at her in surprise.
“What, seriously? I was mostly joking about that!” the half-elf exclaimed, sitting up straight.
“Of course. Though I’ll warn that I’m not looking for a long-term relationship at the moment, especially without knowing which teacher, if any, I end up learning from,” Emonael replied, glancing around them as she added, “We don’t even know how all of this will be handled, anyway.”
“That’s fine with me,” Christoff agreed, nodding as he added, “You certainly have a point there. I wonder what they’re going
to do with us.”
“I think we’ll find out soon.” Damiya spoke up, looking a little uncertain as she looked between the two of them, then nodded toward one of the doors they hadn’t come in through. “Look!”
When Emonael looked, she saw a black-haired elven man in the doorway, wearing midnight-blue robes and a matching archer’s cap, looking at the group in the room slightly skeptically. After a moment he murmured, “Six of you, hmm? Well, I suppose I can take an extra. Come along, all of you.”
Emonael blinked curiously at the man’s tone, but stood, even as one of the others asked. “What’s going on, exactly?”
“I’m going to give you an orientation where I explain what to expect here, and how things in the Association work,” the man replied sharply. “I’m Magister Falmor Kinley, so show some respect.”
“Oh!” the young man replied, obviously taken aback. “M-my apologies, Magister!”
Emonael smiled internally, amused at the antics of the mortals around her. The mage didn’t feel particularly powerful to her, but she followed as he led the way into another room, this one much smaller and with a series of baskets on a table.
“Each of you, take a basket. They’ll each have a badge to show you’re an apprentice with the Mage Association, a couple of sets of robes, chalk and a slate for taking notes and the like, and a pouch of pocket money for basic other supplies for your first year.” Falmor spoke briskly, stepping to the side as he continued. “While you stay here, your first year of room and board is covered. After that, you have to have found a full mage member of the Association as a teacher in order to continue receiving room and board. All of this is an attempt by Pharos to increase the number of magi in the kingdom, so keep that in mind when you’re accepting their goodwill.”
Emonael picked up a basket, opening it to find that he was right about what was in it, though there were a few other supplies, including a few untrimmed quills and what looked like a small bottle of ink. After a moment’s thought, she asked what she considered the most important question for a new member of this organization, even as the others looked through their baskets. “So, whom might we end up apprenticing to?”
The others looked up curiously, and Falmor smiled thinly as he answered. “Any mage who’s a member in good standing who’ll have you, of course. Whether that’s me or other lesser magi, it’s still a chance to learn how to use magic. The important thing is to figure out if you can handle the form of magic that’s being offered. But that isn’t what you were asking, was it? You’re asking who the most powerful members of the Association are, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. I saw the five towers, and had to wonder about them.” Emonael nodded, smiling slightly in return, and she was pleased to see some of his annoyance ease as well.
“I suppose that’s quite understandable. They are the High Magi of the Association, after all,” the mage admitted, then straightened as he continued. “So, the central tower is the abode of High Mage Hothar, the current leader of the Association. He is rare in that his talents allow him to wield the power of earth and to shapeshift into a wide variety of creatures, and is widely well-regarded for his wisdom and power. Unfortunately, drawing his attention enough to gain an apprenticeship would be difficult.”
“Next to him in power is Lord Valis Firestorm, whose tower appears to be obsidian. A noble of Pharos, he’s considered to be the most powerful combat mage in the kingdom, with an immense talent for fire magic, and just a hint of earth magic to back it up. He’s extremely passionate about his magic, and should you have a talent for it, he’d be delighted to teach you,” Falmor explained, smiling broadly. “Why, he’ll even give pointers if you go with another teacher. I will state he’s a vehement patriot of Pharos, though, so be careful with your words, as criticizing the country is almost the only way to get on his bad side.”
“To the far north you may have noticed a musical tower. That’s the abode of Larin Windsong, and as friendly as Lord Valis is, High Mage Windsong isn’t. Appearances and music are vital to his good temper, so only if you can impress him with one of them should you approach him,” Falmor warned, shifting as he continued. “However, High Mage Windsong is the only master of true wind magic in a thousand miles, and if you want the chance to learn to fly, his tutelage would be invaluable.”
“The wooden tower to the west is home to High Druid Reesa Greenglow, a powerful wielder of nature magic. She’s not the friendliest of magi, but she is extremely skilled and passionate about her craft. If you can meet her standards and are willing to protect the wilds alongside her, she would almost certainly be willing to teach you,” their guide explained, then paused and his smile faded slightly as he added, “Though she isn’t willing to teach any other form of magic, so you’d be giving up any other talents you might have.”
“What about the last tower?” Christoff asked after Falmor stopped for a long moment, his eyes bright with excitement and curiosity.
“That’s the home of Marin the Traveler. She donated the land that the Association was built on, and had this building constructed. However, she’s also . . . considered somewhat mad.” Falmor spoke almost reluctantly, frowning as he looked between them, then sighed and explained. “Marin is the most elderly of the High Magi of the Association, and not expected to survive more than a century more. While she’s considered a master of healing magic, she spent centuries traveling the world on a quest to figure out a way for any person to learn any form of magic. As she now spends all of her time researching such an . . . incomprehensible goal, she’s largely left alone. The handful of students she’s taken have never lasted more than a few weeks under her, I’m afraid. I don’t dislike her, mind, I just don’t recommend her.”
“Learning any form of magic? Is that even possible?” one of the other students asked, his voice revealing fascination that almost matched Emonael’s sudden interest. She was quite adept in a number of magical arts, partially because she was a demon, but the thought of learning other forms of magic fascinated her. It could open doors that she’d thought were closed.
“Not to my knowledge or that of anyone else. If it is possible, it would upend everything we know about magic,” Falmor replied, shaking his head firmly as he quashed their hopes. “I doubt anything will come of it in the end, but it’s her own decision what she does with her remaining years.”
“Drat,” Emonael murmured under her breath, then paused and let out a breath of relief that it didn’t seem that anyone else had heard her.
“Oh. Well . . . what are we going to be doing today?” Damiya asked, covering her basket again.
“Nothing. We’re far too busy processing the number of people who wish to join the Association at the moment, so we’ll give you a brief tour, then get you rooms. You’ll be sharing rooms, so I recommend that you find a partner who you don’t mind being around frequently,” Falmor explained, smiling as he continued. “If you’d follow me?”
With a murmur of assent, the students followed after the mage, Emonael mostly curious about the High Magi, and unable to get the thought of Marin’s goal out of her head. She’d have to investigate the woman sometime soon.
Chapter 2
The morning began as most did for Marin these days. She got up and heated some water to wash her face and hair, preparing herself for another day in the library. Considering the writing she was going to be doing, she chose a simple set of trousers and a comfortable tunic that she didn’t mind getting ink on, and made sure they were warm enough to help ward off chills. It was getting warmer outside, but Marin had found herself more sensitive to the cold of late.
Breakfast was a simple affair, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the peace and quiet of her home, mentally going through the notes she was trying to put in order. Marin’s research was coming together properly at last, so she kept having to resist the urge to rush. Rushing wouldn’t do any good, not at this stage. So, she slowly cleaned up after her meal, making certain the kitchen was tidy before going to the libra
ry and sitting at her desk to begin writing again.
It was at that moment that a soft tone sounded in her mind, warning Marin of someone approaching the tower. She sighed, leaning forward so she could peer out a window that gave a view of the approach, and saw that it was one of her fellow High Magi. Hothar was ambling toward the building, and Marin frowned, then shrugged, lowering the wards that would otherwise attempt to keep him out, then started to write.
The silence of the building was broken only by the scratching of her quill and the sound of the doors opening and closing. Moments later, the door to the library opened and Marin spoke. “Good morning, Hothar. This is something of a surprise.”
“Someone has to check on you now and then,” Hothar replied dryly, amusement in his voice. “If we didn’t, the only way to determine whether or not you were alive would be by seeing if you’d paid the locals who deliver food.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Marin murmured, smiling as she glanced up at him, raising her eyebrows. “As you can see, I’m quite well. At least for the moment.”
“Fair, fair. Though you’re looking a little thin . . .” Hothar mused, looking back at her.
“I eat well enough,” Marin retorted, looking back at her work and getting started again. “What’s this really about, Hothar? You never come to visit without a reason for it.”
“Most of the students are starting to call you ‘Mad Marin,’ you know,” Hothar explained, leaning against the door frame and studying Marin as she wrote, his voice fairly calm. “You’re an incredible healer, Marin, and everyone would love to see you take on an apprentice who could carry on your legacy, but this quest of yours . . . it’s driving everyone away. Can’t you see that?”
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