The Mage Trials

by Charles Cackler

  Stretching out the few kinks in his body, he considered what he would do today. Within the next few days, he would face the Second Trial. If he failed… The thought of spending this morning training and practicing was a tempting one, but he shook his head. He’d made a promise and he would keep it.

  Getting out of bed, he made his way to the dining room to go over the prospects with Soren, only to find a handwritten note there along with a large and neatly stacked pile of parchment.

  Picking up the letter, he read from the graphite etchings:

  I apologize, but I had to leave and attend to a few other matters. I’ve assembled the information on each of the prospects here.

  Review them and we’ll discuss them this afternoon.

  He frowned but supposed it wouldn’t make much difference if he went over them alone instead of with Soren. At least this way he’d be able to rule out the more odious matches himself.

  Looking into the pile, he found to his relief that Soren had already done some work of his own - in addition to the portraits of the women and a list of their family holdings, he had added notes, summarizing much of it and organizing everything into prepared dossiers for each woman. The man might not be here now but that didn’t mean he wasn’t helping.

  Taking a few minutes to request a light breakfast from the academy servants before taking the dossiers back to his room, Rian pulled out the first, a woman whose family was an old one, albeit not part of the Seventy-Seven Great Families.

  They had plenty of holdings for the bargaining between what she personally had, what she stood to inherit and what her family might be willing to offer. The portrait showed a woman a few years older than him with large blue eyes and a skinny, pale form. Physically, she wasn’t unattractive, but it was ruined by the sour look on her face; it was like the viewer had annoyed her.

  Soren’s note of ‘few personal accomplishments, no responsibilities… perhaps lazy?’ settled the matter for him and he set her aside.

  Although the most important part of the marriage was the benefit for the Miel family, he and his new spouse would be partners as well. He’d worked hard to reach the point he was at now, preparing for the Mage Trials, and he planned to fulfill his responsibilities to his family with similar thoroughness. He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who wasn’t prepared to do the same. Perhaps he was judging her unfairly, but he didn’t want to take chances with a decision of this magnitude.

  Sipping some Intellan tea and letting its sweet yet spicy scent fill his nostrils, he turned to the second woman. This one looked a little more promising. She had some personal holdings near House Miel’s, and while the family wasn’t rich, Soren noted that she served as one of the local magistrates - an impressive position for someone only a couple years older than him. She was mousy in appearance and even through the portrait she looked timid and shy. Still, that was alright. He wasn’t much of a talker himself, so as long as they could get along… well, it wouldn’t be too bad, right?

  The thought of settling for merely tolerable made him squirm, but he steeled himself and placed her dossier in the yes pile. Peering at the dozens more remaining to review was a tiring thought in itself, but he kept at it.

  Perhaps an hour and a half later, he finally reached the halfway point. So far, he’d come up with two women he’d be willing to tentatively consider. None truly interested him, but he could stand meeting them and seeing if some spark was to be found.

  A flicker of annoyance flared at the thought that neither his parents nor Soren could find someone who would truly share his interests, excite him and make his world come to life… but then he sighed.

  No, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t that they were unacceptable, but that he didn’t wish to accept them. Perhaps he would like one of them if he gave them the chance. He hadn’t even met them, after all.

  The mirror before him showed a young man, barely out of boyhood, staring back with wide and fearful eyes. The truth was that he didn’t want to get married. He didn’t want to live in an old and moldy castle, fulfilling the responsibilities given to him for his family’s sake. He wanted to become like Theia or Arnla, or the great magi before them, to learn magic and go on adventures.

  He didn’t want a cool, sterile marriage to grow his family’s strength. He wanted something that would make his heart sing... but he knew it was a selfish desire. His family had always been there for him before and he should do the same for them too - hadn’t he just been annoyed by the first woman seeming to not take her responsibilities seriously? - and even the desire to set him up for marriage was not in itself a heartless one. His parents wanted to make him happy too, wanting what was best for him; it was why they’d wanted Soren to assist him to begin with.

  Rian leaned back in his chair and stared sightlessly at the stonework above, thinking back to days when he’d looked forward to laughter and warm smiles. He’d known that this was one of his responsibilities, marrying for the good of the family, although he’d hoped to experience a match like his parents’, one with love and companionship. Now, companionship was a possibility, but love… it had been years since he’d been that naive, and while a match of love was certainly a wonderful ideal, he knew better than to expect it.

  He had a dream and he had a responsibility, both of which he was determined to fulfill. Love? Less of importance. Still, perhaps with luck, he might build a bond with his future spouse, or at least be content with her while providing a couple of heirs.

  Resolve firmed, he returned his attention to the dossiers before him. The next woman made him blink. Isabel Carib, he knew her. Frowning, he struggled to remember before recalling his sister pointing her out as a duke’s daughter. He peered down at her portrait.

  The artist might have flattered her appearance, but a heart-shaped face beamed back at him, the happy grin bringing out her dimples as she all but waved at him from where she stood within the frame. Waves of golden hair flowed gracefully down her back and she leaned back, one hand tracing down the marble pillar behind her. Big blue eyes only completed the picture of innocent beauty before him. According to the dossier, her family’s provinces weren’t too far north of House Miel’s holdings and they had a heritage of magecraft going back ten generations.

  If he married her, then even if Isabel herself turned out to be a disappointment, there would be generations of knowledge for his perusal, and he would be close to his family. He didn’t even hesitate, placing her dossier firmly into the approved pile. She could be the one, the one he would marry. Still, he decided, he couldn’t neglect the other options, so he spent the next hour inspecting each and every one of the dossiers from two perspectives: the benefit toward his family and how they would aid him in his studies of magic.

  Rian had just finished when there was… well, he’d call it a knock at the door, except it was like five people smashing their fists into it as loudly as they could. Hastening over, he found Maleth there, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Uh…” Damn it, he wished he’d gotten to spend more time with his sister’s daughter. How was he supposed to deal with this? “Hello…?”

  “Mom passed the trial! Mom passed the trial!” the boy chirruped, loud as a dragon’s roar. A thin-faced woman passing on the tower’s staircase turned up her nose at the ragged child before marching upstairs.

  Ignoring their observer, he blinked at Maleth’s words before a smile overtook him. “That is great news! But where is she?”

  “Right… Right here,” Alensia arrived at the top of the stairs, wheezing for breath, “and you spoiled my news, Maleth.“

  “Sorry mom!” he shouted, his grin not faltering in the slightest.

  She reached the door, still wheezing as she tried to offer a bow. “How… are you doing... young lord...?” she panted.

  “Looking for my future wife, I suppose.”

  “Your wife?” Maleth gasped. “Wow, who is she? Is she nice?”

  “I do not know yet but I imagine I will find out
soon enough. Rather than discussing such matters in the halls though, how about you and your mother come inside? We can begin the instruction after I finish my luncheon and -” He paused, realizing how his words could be taken. “Err, would you like to have something to eat?”

  Maleth’s eyes sparkled. “Really? You’d do that for us?”

  “It is nothing. Just…” He tried to think of a polite way to say ‘please don’t destroy our quarters’, but his mind came up blank.

  It didn’t matter anyway, as the boy let out a loud whoop. “Mother! He’s giving us free food!” the boy cried before knocking him to his knees as he barged inside, paying no attention to his victim behind him.

  Rian grumbled as he got to his feet, massaging his side. For his small size, the boy was awfully strong.

  “Wait, Maleth! Slow down!” Alensia shouted, far too late. At the lack of reply, she sighed, muttering in a ‘what can I do’ manner. Grimacing, she turned to Rian. “I’m sorry about that. Ever since his father’s passing last year, times have been tough. Sometimes, we came very close to not having enough to survive on.”

  “Oh…” Looking back, he felt foolish for not suspecting it. Why else would her son be with her during the trials if the father was around to take care of him? “I am sorry. I did not realize.”

  She patted his shoulder, a small smile on her face. “Don’t worry. It’s alright, and it wasn’t too bad until we lost the shop. That’s when things got tough.”

  This sort of poverty wasn’t common in the Miel holdings, he knew. His family was careful to provide for their subjects. Beyond kindness, his mother once explained it as ‘full bellies mean fewer revolts’. Still, even in their holdings, there were a few who fell through the cracks. Suddenly, it became a lot harder to be annoyed at the boy. “Well, you both are free to visit me as much as you like.”

  “We’re doing better now, but thank you all the same.”

  The dining room windows stretched from floor to ceiling, letting in great shafts of light, which reflected off the table and cast the two-course luncheon atop it in a radiant glow all its own.

  Overlooking it all was the portrait of another ancestor of the Miel family, who seemed to raise her eyebrows at those who sat in the room today as if saying, ‘You bear my blood, my nobility, so why did you invite them to come in?’

  Because in the Royal Academy, they were his equals… is what he wanted to say. Even in the comfort of his own thoughts though, he could hear Soren’s laughter. Two applicants. The noble one got pristine quarters, silk divans and rooms for each individual person, as well as food served to them at all meals while the commoners’ quarters could fit inside the first one’s dining room. He looked down at his baked pork cutlets dipped in a layer of spices and grimaced. The academy’s servants had even gotten extras for his companions upon his asking.

  Neither Maleth nor Alensia minded though. Maleth was eagerly spying everything he possibly could, making little gasps at a suit of armor that ‘guarded’ the far corner of the room. His eyes were wide as he peered at the gleaming silver spear before he ran over to jump up and down on the divan.

  Meanwhile, although less exuberant, Alensia closed her eyes in rapture at the first bite of her meal, before devouring it so fast her cheeks bulged briefly with how much she’d shoved into them.

  Each look of amazement only made Rian’s frown deepen further. Amidst the shine and expansiveness, their ragged clothing and innocent cheerfulness only made them seem more like they didn’t quite belong.

  Well, he resolved, if the royal academy won’t treat them as equals, I will.

  “So,” he said when they were halfway through, “you told me that you passed, but how did the trial go?”

  Alensia coughed as she swallowed a bite the wrong way. Wiping her chin with a napkin hurriedly, she said, “Not bad actually - Mage Malrose was polite enough. Still, she looked like this the entire time.” She wriggled her nose in such a manner that it looked as if someone had broken wind right underneath it.

  He couldn’t help but laugh, letting out something that sounded like a cross between a guffaw and a bark.

  His companion chuckled too. “She looked so offended to have to teach ‘one of those common folk’ that it was laughable. At least she didn’t try to sabotage me like your’s though; it took me almost the full five minutes before I actually managed to use the Spellstone. Still, I did it!”

  “Good for you.” He couldn’t help but wonder though: if she needed five minutes to utilize an unfamiliar Spellstone, would she be able to pass the trials to come? That’s why she had asked him to help her, he supposed. Still... Clearing his throat, he said, “Now, can you tell me the magics you are familiar with?

  She winced, lowering her gaze and nibbling at her cutlets for several long moments. “That’s not much, I’m afraid,” she finally said in a volume just over a mumble. “I haven’t had the chance to practice as much as I should have so I only learned the basics. I can channel my stamina into magic, have mastered one Spellstone and know a bit about enchanting. That’s all though.”

  That wasn’t bad, honestly, especially for someone who had only started learning last year. Perhaps her difficulty with the first trial had been due to her unfamiliarity with different Spellstones? He’d find out soon enough, he was sure. “Very well…” He tapped his chin, considering. He’d never had a pupil before. ”Anything strenuous could tire us for the trials to come, so we should focus on polishing the basics. Enchanting would be best as it is light effort.”

  She beamed back. “That would be -”

  “So who are you getting married to?” Maleth had evidently finished the meal, as even the plate had been licked clean. “You said you’d tell us more when we came inside. Now we’re inside. Who is she? What does she look like?”

  “Actually, I don’t know yet.”

  “What do you mean ‘I don’t know’? How are you going to get married without even knowing who you’re marrying?”

  Rian massaged his forehead, taking a deep breath. “Part of my duties include determining who would be a good match for my family. We have to evaluate the titles, holdings and trade routes of my prospective brides. There is a lot that goes into determining suitable matches.”

  Maleth made a face. “That sounds boring.”

  For once, they were in agreement. “Indeed, I spent hours looking into it already. We will spend days attempting to get in contact with the families about the women in question and weeks arranging meetings to determine compatibility and negotiate over the terms, and that is if any of them are deemed good matches.” A sigh escaped him. “Boring is hardly enough to describe it. It could be a year or more before I find an appropriate partner.”

  “My, and I thought my courtship with my husband was complex,” Alensia said. “That sounds like quite the effort.”

  “It is all for the good of the family, and could be the most important thing I do in my life - one claim today could mean a province or county for House Miel in a generation, after all. It is still tedious though, I admit. Would that I could spend that time studying and learning the ways of the magi.”

  “All this effort for someone you might not even like?” Alensia shook her head. “It may be for the good of your family, but I would rather have married Taleth than any noble. Love is too great to be cast aside like that.”

  “Well,” blue eyes gleamed in his mind’s eye, “love is a good thing too, I admi -”

  The sound of the door opening interrupted him and Soren came inside with several documents in hand, humming all the while. He seated himself at the table, took a sip of chilled water and glanced across.

  The humming stopped. “Rian, I don’t believe you informed me of any,” he eyed their attire, gaze lingering on the patched-up rags Maleth wore, “guests. Now, who are you, exactly?”

  Alensia straightened, squaring her shoulders. “I am Alensia and this is my son, Maleth. Rian has agreed to help me complete the Mage Trials.”

  “I owed her a f
avor,” Rian quickly added.

  Two eyebrows were raised. “Please do explain.”

  Rian did so, telling the tale of how Alensia had prevented him from landing in trouble with the magi, and just how much she had helped him, embellishing it a bit for good measure, but the whole time Soren’s expression didn’t change from its deep-set frown.

  Soren finally shook his head. “Of course,” he said, almost to himself, “curiosity kills the foolish.” A deep sigh escaped him, then he turned back to the newcomers with a little more politeness in his voice. “My apologies for the poor hospitality, but Rian and I have some important matters to attend to for the remainder of the afternoon, so if you will excuse us…” he indicated the door with a wave of his hand.

  Alensia narrowed her eyes but nodded in the end and she and Maleth gave their farewells before heading out.

  Once they were gone, Soren turned back to Rian, massaging his forehead. “I do hope that you didn’t spend the entire morning nattering about with them. You were supposed to work on the marriage dossiers, not waste time.”

  “Actually, I finished those before they even arrived.”

  “Really?” He started to smile and leaned forward in his chair. “Well done then. I am sorry for doubting you. Show me what you’ve come up with.”

  Rian went over the ones he’d selected, Soren nodding along and questioning him every so often on one point or another. When they reached Isabel though, Soren got a particularly smug look on his face. When asked why, he responded with a smirk.

  “One of Countess Gazif’s sons is trying to get the Carib holdings, and after the headaches the bitch gave us with our caravan permits last month… any chance to tweak her oversized nose will put a smile on my face.”

  Rian frowned. “That seems… unnecessary. I thought the Gazifs were our allies. Are they not Tolthor vassals too?”

  It was impressive how Soren managed to convey ‘You’re being a blithering idiot’ with naught but a raised eyebrow. “Do you remember when Nyna married into the Uzviars? The countess had aimed to gain their holdings, only for Nyna’s marriage to block the way. Ever since then, she’s taken every opportunity to get her little revenge.” The man looked down at the dossier with relish. “I don’t imagine this will improve her mood, not at all.”