Delminor's Trials

by Stephen J Wolf

  He took a sheet of parchment and drew a rough sketch of the entire library’s layout, making a miniature version of the entire map. He then returned the two books to the shelf and ventured deeper inside, seeking the section on basic earth spells.

  Mages sat in various alcoves, huddled over their books, some happy with their findings and others fretting hopelessly. They all came for knowledge, but, as Delminor would learn, not all knowledge was pleasant.

  The earth section of the library housed a number of books bound in stone. It was inconvenient, as it made the books heavy, but Delminor appreciated the sentiment anyway. He searched for an order to the tomes, but it was impossible to do so from the titles alone.

  “Perhaps that compendium would have helped here.”

  “Shh,” echoed a voice nearby.

  “Donya?” he whispered.

  The mage came around from the next aisle. “You shouldn’t be talking aloud unless you need something. It’s distracting to others.”

  Delminor looked at the book in her hand, Masters of Dust. “I thought you’d have a water book.”

  She tucked the book behind her, abashed. “It’s none of your business,” she squeaked, her deep green eyes darting about. “What are you looking for?”

  “Basic earth spells right now. My notes are way back home.”

  “Why not return home to get them?”

  He lowered his gaze and shrugged. “I figure if I can’t pick it all up here, then what’s the point of this place?”

  Donya bit her lip and considered. “All right, then. Come on.”

  “But I just got here.”

  She lifted the book she was holding. “This is basically what you need anyway, so let’s pretend I was trying to find it for you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Were you?”

  Her face flushed but she turned and started walking away. Delminor followed silently.

  She led him out the library and back down to the neophyte laboratories, winding through a section he hadn’t visited and bringing him to her own study.

  “So, what are you doing with an earth book? I thought you were set on water spells.”

  “I am. But I thought it would be good to know a little about another element, too. And I figure if I try to be aware of it now, then maybe it’ll help me learn of ways to connect them down the road.”

  “Ah, you’re mastering two. I’ve heard it takes decades.”

  “Right.” She waggled her finger. “But I plan to learn them together. It should save a lot of time.”

  Delminor nodded. “And not only that, but it would open up a wide range of new spells for you, too.” He considered for a moment. “They should have schools for this sort of thing.”

  “That’s a silly idea,” Donya scoffed. “Next you’ll say your plan is to master all the elements. You’ll be a mage of fire, earth, water, air, and nature.”

  He grinned. “Of course. Why not? How hard could it be?”

  She laughed. “You make it sound like it’s normal… or possible. And here you are struggling to remember spells you’ve already done.”

  “True,” he admitted. “But it’s not what I was looking for, precisely.”

  Donya leaned forward. “Really, then? What is it?”

  “I’m looking for a set of similar spells and I want to compare them. There has to be something we’ve overlooked, as mages.”

  “Like?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. But why do we need so many words to invoke the energies into a single spell? I’m not talking about making a dirt house out of nothing, but launching some pellets takes a good minute to cast. Not to mention all the gestures needed to channel the energy.”

  “Oh.” She seemed disappointed. “You’re here looking for a shortcut.”

  “Think of it as an efficient-cut.” He smiled. “I still believe it’ll take work to learn, but it can’t be as all convoluted as it seems. Maybe it’s on purpose, that the masters leave the writings this way so us lowly mage wannabes can’t do much. What if there’s a better way?”

  She shook her head, amused. “It still sounds like you’re looking for a shortcut.”

  He smiled widely. “Then I’m in good company, aren’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You want to learn the basics of two elements together so you can also have a shortcut to becoming master of both.”

  “But I— I—”

  “But you can’t argue with that.”

  It took her a moment but then she conceded. “Maybe if we help each other we’ll both benefit faster.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Chapter 6

  Of Pebbles and Rocks

  Delminor and Donya committed themselves to helping each other “efficient-cut” their ways to mastery. They took turns fetching books from the library and poring over them for the details they needed.

  “Where do we start?” Donya asked.

  “Similarities. Let’s look at all the spells that conjure and toss small stones. Regnard had a set of three in the notes I had. I wish I had thought of this when I had access to them.”

  “There’s a spell of Regnard’s in this one. He called it pouncing pellets.”

  Delminor’s eyes lit up. “That was one of them! Let me see.” He took the book from her hands and she laughed at his excitement, brushing her long, dark hair out of her face so she could see him better.

  He scanned the pages explaining the spell, oblivious to Donya’s inspection of him. “This is it. I remember it.” He grabbed for his parchment and quill. “Look at this. Jalicorith kaie formitherien fabronie engor shai.”

  Donya shook her head. “That’s not the spell. You missed a few words. See? Jalicorith hatchraforthan pellutia kaie ratchmalar—”

  “I can read, but can’t you? We’ve seen these words before. Open that up to Kessel’s stoning spell.”

  “Ugh, I hate that one. It goes on for a full page.”

  “That’s my point. Come on.”

  She found the passage and read the spell words. “Retricoldinar prethullius fabronie retrican correllius jalicorith— Wait, jalicorith.”

  “Yes, and fabronie too. I bet you engor and shai are in there and they’re together.”

  Donya scanned the text excitedly. “By the energies, you’re right!”

  “Shh, not so loud.”

  Donya laughed. “Who’s shushing who, now? But Delminor, this is amazing. How did you ever figure this out?”

  “Figure what out?” Pyron asked suddenly, making the others jump.

  “Where did you come from?” Donya squealed.

  “From down the hall, obviously. What are you two going on about? You’ve been awfully chummy lately.”

  “So, what, you’re jealous?”

  Delminor wasn’t about to let an argument break out. “Pyron, get in here and keep your voice down.”

  “I thought this was our secret, Delminor?”

  “It’s Pyron’s too, now. Besides, with the three of us, think of how much faster it will go.”

  “But no one else.” Her tone was hard and cold.

  Pyron looked between them. “I won’t tell anyone. Unless you’re talking about a recipe for cheese; that I can’t keep to myself.”

  The joke fell flat and Pyron frowned. Delminor nodded his head slowly. “Just the three of us, then. It’s better that way. Too many mages and the spells go awry.”

  “So… what are we not telling anyone about?”

  “Delminor’s found a pattern in some of the spells.”

  “Keywords,” he added. “I think a lot of the words we’re shown are filler.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Pyron said. “You didn’t know that?”

  Delminor’s big discovery was well-known? His face fell.

  Donya saw it and patted him on the shoulder. “He’s pulling your leg. Pyron doesn’t know a thing.”

  Scrambling, Pyron grabbed one of the books and started flipping to a spell he sort of knew. “Of co
urse I do. Everyone knows. See here, you can cast this spell with just the words correlius, shandor, and kaie.”

  Delminor’s smile returned. His friend was lying one way or the other. He either did know and was pretending he didn’t, or he really was guessing. “That’s terrific! Can you show us? It’ll make this all go a lot faster.”

  Pyron cleared his throat and grumbled about not having the spell components he needed and that his leg had a kink in it and he couldn’t stand the right way.

  “Such a fraud,” Donya accused. “Now stop being an idiot and listen. If you take the time to compare the spells to each other, certain words get repeated in them.”

  “So what? It’s like the words the and but. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “You’re the butt,” Delminor laughed. “Come on, take a look.”

  They bent over the spellbooks and as they flipped between the spells involving small projectiles, the same set of words repeated every time. Pyron’s jaw fell slack as one spell after another showed the pattern.

  “And not only are they in there,” Pyron noted, “they’re in the same order.”

  Delminor nodded. “That’s an excellent point. That might explain why sometimes the words repeat. Maybe the first time, if it’s in the wrong place, it doesn’t do anything.”

  “I guess it’s good you let me into this little soirée.”

  Delminor was practically shaking at this point. “I want to try it. Give me that jar.”

  “Oh sure, wreck my lab,” Donya complained as she reached for the supplies he needed. She gave him the jar he requested and a small scrap of cloth to wrap the dirt in.

  He poured a fistful of dirt onto the cloth and folded it into a ball. It was rudimentary, but that was the benefit of Regnard’s spells; they were great visual training for how the spells worked, and his later iterations replaced the basics with more efficient processes.

  Delminor stood up and began the needed gestures. He held the ball of dirt in his left hand, pulling it close to his body and then twisting to the right. His other fingers curled in a spiral four times, and with each turn, he tightened his grip on the dirt. He pushed his left foot forward and then leaned back, twisting to the left, bringing his arm behind him. He bent his elbow and before he reached his arm forward to launch the spell, he said the incantation.

  “Jalicorith kaie formitherien fabronie engor shai.” He pushed his hand forward, opening his fist and releasing the cloth-wrapped dirt. The wad flew from his hand and landed in a pile on the floor, unchanged.

  Delminor was shattered. It hadn’t worked. But he was so certain. “Maybe I missed a step, or, or—”

  “Or you’re wrong,” Pyron said.

  “No!” But he couldn’t say any more. His voice caught in his throat and before they could see the tears he felt forming in his eyes, he darted from the room.

  Chapter 7

  Denial

  He couldn’t accept it. He knew he was on the right track. After all, what made a master mage better than anyone else aside from knowing more spells?

  Maybe the masters were more connected to the energy somehow. That although there was no test to become a master, maybe there naturally was a change within. Perhaps that allowed them to use the energies more efficiently with less gamboling about. But it had to start somewhere. He needed to speak with a master.

  Pyron and Donya had already talked him out of it several times. He tried seeking Xervius directly, but the Overseer was elusive, making it impossible to ask his permission to ascend to the upper levels.

  The masters themselves rarely journeyed to the lower floors. They had their own amenities—and their own libraries—upstairs. Delminor knew those spellbooks had to be different than those left for the kiddies. Why else secret them away?

  Delminor sulked for days, hiding away from the others, trying to muddle through his failure. Only Donya was able to find him tucked away in an unused laboratory, well-hidden and secluded. He appreciated her attempts to comfort him, but he wasn’t ready to be cheered up.

  Donya found him several times, though he kept moving so he could be left alone. Something about her persistence warmed him, though. His only other company was his notes and an earth tome, but he never spoke of what he was doing.

  Her persistence eventually won him over, especially as she had continued their research with Pyron. “There are other common words. It could be they were needed, too. I do think we’re getting somewhere though.”

  “I’m heading upstairs.”

  “I wondered when you’d say that.”

  “I really am.”

  “I know.”

  “You won’t try to stop me?”

  “Could I even?”

  “No.”

  “You won’t get far, but that doesn’t mean you won’t find what you’re looking for. But you have to get out of this funk you’re in or you’ll get nothing.” She reached her hand out and touched his knee. He placed his hand on hers and admired how soft her skin felt. He’d never noticed before.

  “Do you know which way the masters go? Can you tell me that?”

  “I do. But I won’t tell you.”

  “Donya…”

  “I’ll show you. But only if you come right now.”

  He knew what she was doing, yanking him out of his pit. Refusing to let him wallow any more. Dangling a carrot.

  Transparent, but it worked. He pulled himself out of the room, disheveled and filthy. She wrinkled her nose at him and waved her hand back and forth. “Okay, a bath for you first.”

  His heart fluttered and before he knew what he was saying, he blurted, “Join me?”

  “W—what?”

  He didn’t know what came over him. He reached out and grabbed her gently, seeking her lips with his. He held her close and she did not pull away.

  “Delminor…”

  “Maybe I should wait to visit the upper floors. Maybe I should stay here, with you.”

  She blushed and shook her head. “You would always say I held you back. I won’t be that excuse.”

  “You’ll never be an excuse.”

  “Thank you, Del. But…” She cleared her throat and looked into his dark brown eyes. “You do need that bath.”

  * * *

  After cleaning up, Delminor returned to his room and packed his belongings. He assumed he would be ejected from the tower if he was caught. And it was likely he would be caught. He brought his pack over to Pyron’s room, glad his friend was there.

  “Ah, he lives!” Pyron greeted him with a hug. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I’m going up to the master libraries.”

  Pyron paled. “Del, you can’t. You know what’ll happen.”

  “No, I don’t. Will they kill me, do you think? Blind me or maim me somehow? Or will they simply throw me out? Does anyone even know, or is everyone too afraid to try?”

  Pyron blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry, friend. I’m not risking it.”

  Delminor smiled. “Nor am I asking you to. But I do need one last favor.”

  “Here it comes.”

  “Can you bury this outside somewhere, so I can get to it after they banish me?” He held forth his pack.

  “Wow. You really are serious. I was hoping you were just trying to get a rise out of me. Is that what you’ve been doing these past days? Planning?”

  “Wallowing, mostly. But now that I’m thinking it, I have to go. I won’t be content poring through thousands of spellbooks down here trying to figure it all out. Not when I think they have what I’m looking for upstairs.”

  “But if they banish you…”

  “I’ll find somewhere else to go. There’s another tower somewhere isn’t there?”

  “Near the southern border. But they’re super strict down there. You wouldn’t have the freedom you’ve had here.”

  “Thanks, Pyron, for everything. I hope we get to meet again.”

  Pyron grabbed him and held him firmly. “I’m begging you not to go. Please, Del, don’t
be a fool. It’s not worth it. We’ll work harder on this, I promise. I believe you’ve got the right idea; you’ve convinced me. You don’t need to throw this all away on a hunch.”

  Delminor took a step closer and wrapped his arms around him. “You’ve been a great friend.”

  “Dammit, you’re making me cry.” Pyron pulled away and wiped his eyes. “Are you really doing this now?”

  “Within the hour, yes.”

  Pyron nodded and lowered his eyes. He took Delminor’s pack and clutched it to his chest. “That doesn’t give me a lot of time to stash this thing. There’s a tree out there with a boulder nearby. I’ll tuck this over there somewhere.”

  Delminor nodded sharply and bid his friend farewell. He heard Pyron scurry away quickly, and he decided he should do the same.

  He turned to head toward Donya’s and he thought of the kiss he had shared with her. His insides warmed and he savored the memory, wondering if a second kiss would be as wonderful. His face curled into a grin he couldn’t remove, not that he wanted to.

  If he didn’t need the information Donya had, he wouldn’t involve her at all, but he doubted anyone else would tell him how to reach the upper floors, for fear of being punished as accomplices.

  He didn’t understand all the secrecy. Why should any of the knowledge be hidden? What was wrong if every aspiring mage had access to the best there was? Sure, maybe they’d make mistakes. But then have the masters watch over them instead of tucking the neophytes to the nether regions of the tower, keeping their font of knowledge secret, hidden, locked behind terror and threats of punishment.

  Whether he succeeded or failed, he would accept the outcome because he would have at least tried. He considered that for a moment, and the sentiment felt right. He could handle failure in this. But sitting idly by was unacceptable.

  Hadn’t he already experienced sitting idly by with his first apprenticeship? Hadn’t his patience meant nothing with Hammon? Had he been more up front, more focused, he wouldn’t have wasted those months.