Until All Curses Are Lifted

by Tim Frankovich

  But considering their location and the Master’s identity, a magical source seemed far more likely. What did that mean? She recalled the similar discussion with the Conclave, debating the cause of the shaking earth. Three possibilities had been offered then.

  Wild magic? She had learned a bit more last night, but it still seemed unlikely. One of the Masters had said wild magic would never be powerful enough to shake the earth. Did it take more power or less to kill a Master mage?

  Could it be the magic of Zes Sivas itself? Since Master Simmar had been in the Inner Sanctum, it might be a strong possibility. But why? Had it been an accident? Had the Master been trying to control or channel the magic of Zes Sivas? Seri didn’t know what that could even mean. Obviously, magic existed here, but what was the difference between it and wild magic? Or the magic of the Lords? Her education had barely begun. She knew so little.

  Her mind drifted to the third possibility. She had thought it fictional, but Master Hain assured her the Eldanim were real. Could they have done this? Why would they have done this?

  She almost stopped in her tracks at a sudden thought. Master Simmar had been the one to blame the Eldanim for the shaking earth. Had they retaliated against him?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I DON’T KNOW. I don’t know.” Dravid kept repeating the same answer to any questions related to how he felt, what he would do next, or anything else, for that matter.

  Seri and Jamana did their best to encourage their friend, but nothing else could be said. After a few more platitudes that sounded worthless, they left him to his own devices.

  “Do you think they’ll send him away?” Seri asked.

  Jamana nodded. “I don’t think they’ll bring in a new Master too quickly,” he said. “Dravid will probably have to go home for a while.” He looked downcast.

  “Maybe they won’t,” Seri suggested. “Maybe they’ll let him stay and work with us.”

  “Maybe.” Jamana didn’t look convinced.

  Events unfolded as Jamana had predicted. Word came from Kuktarma that Dravid was expected back home as soon as possible. The remaining mages of the land would be assembled as soon as could be arranged, to choose a new Master. Unfortunately, the process could take weeks. There was no guarantee that a new Master would even be chosen by the time of the Passing.

  To Seri’s disappointment, she missed her chance to bid farewell to Dravid. One day he was there, and the next he was gone.

  Seri occupied herself over the next few days with two major tasks: memorizing the layout of the citadels, and reading The Vicissitudes of Wild Magic and its Practitioners by Master Sekou. She also did her best to keep up with the work Master Hain had assigned her: copying the names of the dead. She managed to spend a few minutes with Jamana each day, but worry and nervousness colored their conversations. Neither heard anything more about the mysterious death. Seri brought it up once with Master Hain. He told her to focus on her studies and not worry about such things.

  Around a week after the death, Master Hain summoned Seri to his quarters. She hurried through the hallways, and congratulated herself when she arrived in record time. Master Hain greeted her at the door and stepped aside for her to enter.

  She took three steps into the room before she recognized the presence of someone else. She turned to see the visitor and froze. A man unlike any man she had ever seen stood in the center of Master Hain’s quarters.

  He stood well over six feet tall, towering over her like a citadel himself. And yet he seemed even taller. She blinked, and for an instant, he became much taller. His head went through the ceiling, which suddenly… wasn’t there. As quickly as it seemed that way, it no longer did. He stood there, smiling at her, with completely normal proportions. Except they weren’t. It was as if she could see both versions of him simultaneously. She felt almost nauseated by the effect.

  The strangeness of his appearance did not stop there. His tan facial features, framed by long white hair, were angular to the point of sharpness. His eyes - his eyes commanded attention in spite of everything else. The left eye shone with a crystalline green color. His right eye contained no white at all; only a pure orb of darkness with a sprinkling of tiny pinpricks of light, like a miniature star field.

  “This is Curasir of the Eldanim,” Master Hain said behind her.

  Curasir stretched out a thin hand with knuckles so sharp Seri feared cutting herself. She offered her own hand in return. He took it and made a deep bow, a motion so smooth and gentle she almost felt he was dancing for her.

  “This is Seri-Belit, the acolyte I mentioned,” Master Hain said.

  “Seri-Belit, it is a great pleasure to meet you,” Curasir said. His voice commanded respect, but at the same time, he sounded pleased to meet her. As he lifted himself up from his bow and his head passed near hers, he spoke in a low voice that only she could hear: “You have a star in your eye.”

  Seri looked up at him and blinked several times. She had no idea what he meant, or if she had heard him properly.

  Master Hain shut the door and walked around from behind her. “We only have the two acolytes here at present, due to Master Simmar’s death, but both of them have shown great promise.”

  Seri blinked again, this time in surprise. Great promise?

  “Unfortunately, like so many in Antises, she believed the Eldanim to be myths,” Master Hain went on. “I am delighted that you have arrived to permanently dispel that notion.”

  Seri started to blush, feeling like an ignorant peasant. Curasir smiled in return, a smile without condescension. “How could she think otherwise?” he asked. “We do not interact with humans on a regular basis. The vast majority of you have never seen one of us.”

  Seri tried not to look directly at him. It was too disconcerting.

  Master Hain moved to his desk and began sorting through some papers. “Indeed. Well, I’m pleased you have chosen to join us here. Should you need something more than a message sent, please consider my acolyte at your disposal.”

  “Master?” Seri asked, confused.

  Hain turned back to her. “Curasir will be staying at the Citadel for the next couple of months, at least until the Passing. He is here to observe and advise. Should he need anything, I expect you to be accommodating, as you are for me. I believe it will be an educational experience for you.”

  “My people have been uninvolved with the proceedings of this land for too long,” Curasir added. “That needs to come to an end. Perhaps we can assist with the current crisis.”

  “You mean the murder?” Seri said. She immediately regretted it.

  “Murder?” Curasir cocked his head.

  Master Hain rolled his eyes. “She means the unfortunate death of Master Simmar. With no obvious culprit, the younger people here have assumed foul play.”

  “Ah.” Curasir nodded. “No, I was referring to the loss of the King and his magic.”

  Seri nodded in response, keeping her eyes down. “Of course.” At least someone was taking things seriously, then. But perhaps the two problems were connected. Maybe she should say something.

  “You may go, Seri,” Hain said. “I will be by later to check on your current progress.”

  Seri dipped her head one more time and left the room in a hurry. The Citadel no longer seemed as familiar as it had a few minutes earlier.

  •••••

  “You have a star in your eye.”

  What had he meant? The statement plagued Seri all the way back to her room. She dug out a looking-glass and stared at her reflection.

  She examined her eyes, starting with the left and moving to the right. They began to water from the attention. For a long time, she saw nothing. She wiped her eyes and closed them for a minute to stop the watering. She looked again.

  Her eyes always seemed boring to her. They were brown, like most of the people she knew. They weren’t a deep, rich brown, or a light, sparkling brown. Just an average, ordinary brown. Today, they still appeared average and boring.


  Except… she stared closer. Was it her imagination or did the left eye sparkle? She glanced around to make sure it wasn’t reflecting a nearby light source. She stared harder and her eyes began to water again. Frustrated, she kept staring. She was almost certain now that she could see a tiny pinprick of light in her left eye. A tear gathered from trying to focus on it. After turning away from the mirror and then back, it still stared back at her. Just beneath the pupil and slightly toward the left, her eye contained a minuscule star.

  What did it mean? Did it have something to do with the way Curasir had appeared to her? Looking like he existed at two different heights, one that went through the ceiling?

  She sat on her bed and considered. Curasir had a strange-looking eye himself. The light spots in it could be considered stars, based on his words. Would her eye change and become like his? That would be… strange. What did the world look like with an eye like that?

  Seri bounded up and left her room. Master Hain had said he would come check on her work, but she needed to speak with Jamana right now.

  She found him, as usual, in the kitchen. He had fulfilled his three days’ labor, but had once again done something to annoy Master Korda. He still had three days left of an entire week’s worth of kitchen duty now.

  “Look in my eyes,” Seri ordered.

  Jamana grinned. “Pretty girls do not need to ask me this twice,” he said.

  Despite herself, Seri’s heart skipped a beat. He had called her pretty. She swallowed and pushed on.

  “I’m serious. Tell me if you see anything, um, unusual.”

  Jamana’s grin faded a bit and he bent down to peer into her eyes. His eyes radiated that deep, rich brown she wished for her own. He looked long enough that her eyes started watering again. She finally dropped her head from his gaze.

  “They are very pretty eyes, like chestnuts,” Jamana said.

  Seri frowned.

  Jamana lost his grin. “Was that not what you wanted to hear?”

  Seri wiped the moisture away and pointed toward her left eye. “That one. Do you see a bright spot in it?”

  Jamana looked again. He held one of his large hands up beside her face to block the light from the kitchen window. “Perhaps? Yes? Like a little star near the bottom.”

  Seri nodded. “That’s what he said. That I had a star in my eye.”

  “Who said?”

  “The Eldanim. Or would it be Eldani? Eldan?”

  “You met one of the Eldanim?” Jamana took a step back.

  “Yes, Master Hain introduced us. He’s going to be staying here for a while.” Seri paced several steps in a circle. “What does it mean?”

  “Perhaps he is here to help us.”

  “No, not him. He said he was here to help. I meant my eye. I’m seeing strange things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the Eldanim. Eldani. Curasir. He looked strange to me.”

  “I have not seen one before, but I am told the Eldanim look strange to all.”

  “No, no, not like that.” Seri took a deep breath. “He looked… taller.”

  “Taller than what?”

  “Than– he– argh!”

  Jamana chuckled. “I do not fully understand what worries you, little Seri, but the star in your eye does not seem like it should concern you this much.”

  Unable to express herself, Seri stalked out of the kitchen and promptly ran into Master Hain.

  “Acolyte. Would you care to explain why I did not find you at your assigned task?”

  •••••

  That night, Seri couldn’t sleep for some time. To distract her mind from the star, she pulled out Sekou’s Vicissitudes and read some more.

  Sekou’s explanation of wild magic fascinated her. Wild magic, as everyone with an education knew, consisted of “leftover” magic of the land that had not been consolidated when the Conclave of Mages united it. Though the mages had tried to unite all of Antises’ magic, small bits and pieces remained here and there. Over time, individuals with an affinity toward magic had been able to tap into these pieces, with limited success.

  He described three regions where wild magic appeared more often: one in the border zone connecting Rasna and Varioch, one in northern Ch’olan, and the third in central Kuktarma. Seri couldn’t help being disappointed that Arazu wasn’t part of that list.

  Master Sekou argued that wild magic practitioners could only learn to use their magic for one purpose. That did not mean they could only perform one action or “spell,” but that they could only work within a limited constraint. The magic itself was so fractured it could only be used in one particular direction. Thus, some wild magicians could generate various fire-related spells, though never in a powerful way. They could produce a small flame from nothing, light candles, and maybe even a torch, but nothing greater. And definitely nothing outside of fire.

  Seri flipped through the pages at a rapid pace, skimming here and there. Sekou listed almost a hundred different wild magic specializations. Some appeared elemental, like fire or air, while some related to healing or other esoteric practices, such as minor levitation. She chuckled at the ridiculously useless ones, like the record of a farmer who somehow discovered he could alter his own hair color at will. Seri had looked through much of this already, but now she searched for anything related to eyesight.

  She found record of a wild magician who could see through substances, but nothing thicker than clothing. He had not come to a good end once the women of his town discovered his ability. She also read about a woman who could focus her eyes to see great distances with precision. She found it interesting that the wild magic made no distinction of gender. Equal numbers of men and women seemed able to connect with it.

  Seri skipped ahead some more. Eventually, she found a brief chapter about outward manifestations of wild magic. Sekou described one instance in which a wild magician’s skin turned darker. But since his power related to clearing up skin diseases, Sekou could not determine whether he had done it to himself deliberately or even subconsciously, rather than it being an effect of the power itself. Overall, there seemed to be no definitive stories of the wild magic manifesting itself in someone’s appearance.

  Seri glanced at her looking-glass. She could immediately see the spot of light in her eye, now that she knew where to look. If this wasn’t wild magic, what was it?

  The Eldanim possessed their own magic, but all other magic in Antises came from the land. Since she was not of the bloodline of the Kings or Lords, Seri could not use their magic. Outside of wild magic, the only other source was Zes Sivas itself. Perhaps she somehow had tapped into the power of the island. Should she mention this to Master Hain? Should she mention it in her next letter to her parents?

  And what did it all mean? She had no doubt the vision on the citadel walls was connected to this star, but visions were never mentioned in the books she read. Only Curasir seemed to know anything significant. He also was the only one who seemed concerned about the missing King’s magic. She needed to talk with him before doing anything else.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  AS IT TURNED out, Seri did not have to wait long before seeing Curasir again. At breakfast the next morning, Jamana joined her and seemed not to remember how she walked away from him the day before.

  “You seem even happier than usual,” Seri noted. “How is that possible?”

  “Because I know something that you do not,” Jamana said, his grin wider than ever.

  “Oh? And what might that be?”

  “It is a secret. I do not have permission to tell you yet.”

  “Then why mention it at all?” Irritated, Seri considered something more cutting to say when Curasir suddenly sat down across from her.

  Jamana’s eyes bulged. “You’re…”

  “Yes, I am,” Curasir said. “And you must be the other acolyte. Jamana, was it? In service to Master Korda?”

  Jamana nodded.

  Curasir focused on Seri. She dropped her eyes, una
ble to look at him directly. “I would like to speak with you about your eyesight,” he said. “Shall we go somewhere private?”

  Seri shook her head. “Jamana knows about it,” she said. She looked up at Curasir and grimaced. “I don’t understand. I see you in two different… forms.”

  “I see something odd, as well,” Jamana added. “Perhaps it is not just you.”

  Curasir flipped his hand in a dismissive gesture. “You see only what all humans see,” he told Jamana. “We are hard to perceive with your eyes.”

  “Why? What causes it?”

  “I will put this as simply as I can.” Curasir steepled his long fingers together. “We Eldanim exist in two worlds simultaneously. This world, and an… Otherworld, if you will. That is why most people always feel something is strange when they look at us, but you, Seri-Belit, see much more.”

  “I’m seeing your form in the Otherworld?”

  Curasir pointed to his own right eye. “With this eye, I constantly see the Otherworld.” He pointed to his left. “With this one, I see this world. You are only seeing my form in both worlds because your power has barely begun to grow, and because I exist in both worlds.”

  “You see both worlds all the time?” Jamana exclaimed. Curasir nodded. “I think that would drive me insane!”

  “Some are unable to bear it,” Curasir said. “They wear a patch over one eye, or take more extreme measures.”

  “I think I caught a glimpse of your Otherworld,” Seri recalled. “When we were outside, on the wall,” she told Jamana. “It didn’t look like a very nice place.”

  “It is not. Nevertheless, the Otherworld is the source of the magic within this world,” Curasir said. “The two are linked in many, many ways.”

  “But why is this happening to me? I’m not Eldanim!”

  “Maybe one of your ancestors was?” Jamana suggested.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, if you can help it,” Curasir snapped. “Our two races are in no wise compatible.”