The Mage Trials

by Charles Cackler

  “Anyone who knew about my Second Trial would have known to wait outside Dalmarn’s quarters though,” Rian pointed out. “My proctor was assigned to me.”

  “But who would have known when you were going to see him?” Pelric interjected. “I doubts many folk get that information, an’ really doubt an assassin would sit around in the dark for hours waiting for you to show up.”

  “Pelric’s right,” Alensia said, “this House Gazif must have had some way to know where and when you had your Second Trial. Maybe one of the magi handling it is working for them?”

  “True…” Rian said, stroking his chin. For all their investigations, they hadn’t considered how the assassin knew to be waiting for him - he’d have to ask Ambrose who would have known the timing of his trial. “And it really was the ideal battlefield for him; it gave him the chance to ambush me at my most vulnerable, yet offered an easy escape into the darkness if things turned badly for him.”

  “His Sacrelith… I don’t be knowing much about them,” Pelric said, “but I hear that they each have an element they specialize in. What was his?”

  He tried to remember, but what he could recall of his opponent’s abilities was limited by the utter exhaustion and terror he’d been feeling. “As far as spells goes, the only thing I recall was him summoning a wave of black blades… shadows or darkness, perhaps?”

  Alensia nodded slowly. “Makes sense. Where better to use a Darkness Sacrelith than in a place your opponent can barely see?”

  “He knew you was coming and was well prepared,” concurred Pelric. “If it weren’t for that Redcloak you were with, you’d have died then and there. Sounds like a damn clever bastard, if you be asking me, and that’s before the Sacrelith.” He whistled. “Hiring someone like that, whoever bought him must really want you dead.”

  Rian’s stomach threatened to turn over. Pelric was understating it, if anything. Had Sachiel and Dalmarn let him try to make his way to the healing ward on his own, as exhausted as he was, he would have been dead before even knowing he was under attack. He looked to his companions.

  All of them were nervous now, even Maleth not being his normal loud, rambunctious self, instead looking down at his empty plate without a word.

  It was Alensia who broke the silence, her voice forcedly cheerful. “Well, then we’re going to have to be especially careful. Avoiding dark places won’t be enough to be completely safe, but we will still be better off than fighting a Darkness Sacrelith user in his native element.”

  “What you mean by this ‘we’ business?” Pelric balked. “I ain’t getting involved in any of this. Me head’s going to stay right where it belongs, sitting firmly on me neck! Err,” he turned to Rian with a nervous smile, “No offense, young lord.”

  “None taken. It is smart to stay out of it, if anything,” Rian said. “As dangerous as I thought he was before, it is clear now that I underestimated him. I would advise Alensia to do the same,” he sighed, shaking his head, “except I already know what her answer would be.”

  Alensia chortled proudly at that. “Good to see you are learning.”

  Pelric gave her a flat look and groaned. “On your heads be it then, but I wouldn’t suggest doing nothing stupid, just the same. He,” he jabbed a finger at Rian, “be having a whole army of guards, protectors and muscley folk to protect him. I suggest you let him be using them. Eventually, the assassin’s got to strike to make his coin, and the safer you are, the better it be for you.”

  Rian was well in agreement with him.

  When they left the pub, he wasn’t sure how to feel. The information he and Alensia had uncovered… it wasn’t exactly deep secrets by any means, yet he imagined that what they had gleaned would be valuable all the same.

  In the short term, it didn’t look so bad. Yes, he would have to venture into the catacombs beneath the academy again for the Third Trial, but at least with so many potential witnesses the assassin might have to choose a different time to strike, and he would be careful to spend the rest of his time at the academy in plenty of company when possible. Afterward though… what would happen then?

  He wasn’t the only one who was worried either. Alensia’s gaze flickered back and forth frequently and one of her hands clutched a Spellstone in her pocket for security. Maleth was perhaps worse, his face all too pale. He didn’t say anything, just staring in front of his feet as he shuffled forward.

  Guilt pulsed through Rian. While Alensia might have offered to help him, he couldn’t blame her for second thoughts; neither did it mean that Maleth was prepared for it. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and realized perhaps for the first time just how small and skinny he was. Yet he was in danger now, and it was all because of him. “Maleth?”

  The boy didn’t say anything but stopped all the same, listening.

  He cleared his throat awkwardly. This sort of thing was why he wasn’t good with children. “Are you… how do you feel?”

  Maleth looked up at him, his eyes dark and drawn. “Sir… are you going to die?”

  Rian couldn’t meet his gaze. It was a distinct possibility, but that was not something he could share with one so young. “Do not worry.” He forced a smile. “Your mother, I and many others are working to find a way to defeat this assassin.”

  “That’s what she said when…” Maleth trailed off, his voice a trembling thing that was one step from sobbing. “Just because you’re trying to stop bad things doesn’t mean that they can’t kill you.”

  Around them, the street was crowded as countless members of the common folk went about their days, some rushing to one task or another while others practiced some trade of theirs, yet even amongst all that bustling life, even in spite of his newfound friends, the feeling of danger closed back in around him. Every shadow seemed as if it might hold a threat.

  “Well, I will be different,” he said to himself as much as Maleth. “My family is one of the greatest of the nobility, with powerful defenses and a multitude of loyal guards. Even an assassin cannot survive such a gauntlet.”

  “I don’t know. It still - mom?” When Alensia didn’t react, instead looking back at the crowd, Maleth pulled at her clothes. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  Alensia’s face paled. “Maleth. Quiet.” Rather than looking to her son though, she turned to Rian. “Don’t be too obvious but look behind us, now.”

  He tried to make it look smooth, like he was merely checking out some of the shops’ contents as they walked, but at the sight of a brown-cloaked figure following them about fifty paces back, his heart threatened to stop. He turned back to her, still trying to make it look casual and probably failing if his shaking hands were any clue.

  “Do you think it’s him?” he whispered.

  “Who else could it be?” She looked at him with desperate eyes. “What should we do?”

  He glanced back again. Their pursuer had gotten bogged down in the crowds, but he would push through soon enough. There were no Redcloaks or guards around this time, just him, his friend and her child. “There are too many others here. Even if we fought him off, they could get hurt. We’re close to the Academy though, and we can make it if we run for it.”

  “He’ll know we see him.”

  “Better than letting him get close enough to gut us.” At her reluctant nod, he said, “On three, we all run for it. One, two… three!”

  The three of them raced forward, almost bowling over an old man with a wagonload of cabbages as they dashed away.

  Behind them was the sound of thundering footsteps and angry shouts, but Rian wasn’t stupid enough to slow down, running as fast as he could. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, hoping that they were outrunning their pursuer. Any second, he feared that he would feel a sudden sharp pain about his neck.

  It was only when the sound of cursing began to get softer and the gleaming gates of the academy were visible just ahead that he dared look back… only to see that it was just the man with the cabbages; he had come to a stop, falling to his kn
ees with sweat running down his dark, wrinkled face, too tired to shout anymore.

  The assassin was nowhere to be seen.

  “Good… we lost him,” Alensia panted, all three of them slowing down.

  “I hope so… but how was he following us to begin with?”

  The troubled expression on Alensia’s face showed that she had come to the same conclusion as him: that none of the possible answers were good ones.

  Chapter Twelve

  The spear-butt slammed against the ground with a thud. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little lordling. Come to prattle on some more?”

  The rest of their trek had been made with no further sign of their pursuer but their good fortune had ended the moment they stepped up to the gate, where Rian’s least favorite person was there to meet them, a cruel sneer blooming on his face the moment he recognized hi.

  They needed to make their way through quickly. No sight of the assassin was visible but they weren’t safe here. If the assassin merely disposed of the cloak, they were almost invisible and the crowd around them provided witnesses but also concealment for a quick knifing.

  Rian took a deep breath. “Graff, we merely wish to go through without trouble.”

  “We?” Graff’s gaze fell upon Alensia and his eyes lit up viciously. “Ahh, it’s you again,” he purred. “Didn’t think I’d get the pleasure of seeing you any time soon.”

  She grimaced and mopped sweat off her brow. “As you know us already, may we pass through?”

  Graff smirked. “Aren’t you in a hurry? Of course, you can pass through, but I have to make sure you’re not carrying any dangerous items. Rules are rules, you know.”

  Maleth looked sick but said nothing, ducking his head.

  Her gaze went to Rian and Maleth in turn and he could see her making the cold calculation. The sooner they got through him, the sooner they would be safe. Nodding reluctantly, she mumbled, “Dangerous items… Right…”

  Rian stepped between them, standing as straight as he could. He understood the need to get inside quickly but she would not suffer for his sake, not again. “Alensia is with me and I vouch for her. As the very person who the extra security is supposed to protect, is my word not enough?”

  Graff narrowed his eyes but his smirk only widened. “Ahh, but it’s entirely necessary, little lordling. The rules have changed and we have to protect his nobleness from the big bad assassin, no?” His voice hardened. “Besides, you know what I can do…”

  He glared back, his mind working furiously. The longer they spent arguing, the more of a chance the assassin would have to strike. The problem was that he lacked any authority over Graff. In spite of his noble status, he had no power to prevent the Redcloak from satisfying himself again.

  Graff knew it too. He pushed him to the side and leered down at Alensia. “Now then,” he licked his lips, “let us make sure you haven’t brought no weapons this time.”

  No! Rian desperately peered around for some kind of distraction, only to spot something else red. He smiled. “Miss Licourt, could you come over here a moment?”

  Graff’s smirk froze on his face.

  “What seems to be the trouble?” Sachiel asked as she padded over. Her face and words were calm but her gaze flickered over each of them in turn with the annoyance of a girl being dragged into her little brother’s stupid squabbles. Finally, she settled for narrowing her eyes at Rian as if to say ‘explain, now’.

  A squirmy feeling grew in the pit of his stomach as he recalled the argument they'd had earlier that day. Calling her over might not have been the best idea he’d ever had but it was too late to backpedal, so he quickly said, “As the increased defensive measures were put in place to protect me, I feel that it is unnecessary that my friend here be checked,” he referred to Alensia with a wave of his hand. “I vouch for her.”

  Sachiel glanced to Alensia and back to him, frowning the whole time.

  “The rules state that all must be checked,” Graff growled, “no exceptions.”

  “Please, we must get through immediately. It is important.” Rian tried to convey the seriousness of the situation through his expression. She was the only one who could possibly help.

  Her glare deepened as she weighed her anger against what she knew of him. She wanted to tell him to get lost, he could tell, but could she ignore him when he genuinely needed help? He bet on the answer being no and finally, she nodded with the greatest of reluctance. “Don’t worry, Graff. I’m familiar with the young lord and his situation. Let them pass.”

  The bastard’s eyes promised retribution but he did as requested, letting them through with Sachiel following behind.

  The moment they turned the corner though, she rounded on him, hissing, “Would you mind explaining what that was about?”

  He tried to explain, but his words stumbled over each other. “He - Graff - was bothering, that is to say-”

  Luckily, Alensia didn’t have that problem. “He was harassing me,” she said, quickly explaining what had happened and causing Sachiel’s expression to first stiffen, then slowly soften into understanding.

  He noticed that Alensia did not mention their being followed and decided to do the same. Sachiel might have helped them but he didn’t want any of it possibly getting back to her fellow order members.

  “I’m sorry you’ve already had to endure that, madam,” Sachiel finally said when Alensia’s tale was finished. “The Crimson Order is supposed to be virtuous… but sometimes its members fail to uphold that.”

  Her words incensed him. ‘Fail to uphold?’ This shouldn’t have happened to begin with! “And what will you do to prevent this from happening in the future?”

  Sachiel bit her lip, looking from one to the other before shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be too hopeful,” she admitted. “I will inform his captain of what happened but that only works if the captain does something about it. Many, I’m afraid, do not, and I don’t have the authority to force Graff to behave in a way befitting the Crimson Order.”

  So Graff would be allowed to continue his cruelties unchecked. “That is all? Surely there must be something you can do.”

  Her grimace deepened and she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you expect me to do?” She said defensively. “I can’t fix everything myself.”

  “Not everything, but more than ‘I am going to tell his captain who will do absolute shit about it’ would be preferable, or is that too much to ask?”

  Sachiel's eyes hardened, but to his surprise, it was Alensia who spoke up. “Rian, she helped us, did she not? Besides, Graff acts no differently than some of the nobles I’ve encountered. Can you honestly say that you haven’t heard of some of them doing the same?”

  He looked away from her pointed gaze. She was right, of course. He knew of several who acted just as Graff had. Certainly, many nobles were as honorable as his family but those few… they were like the rotten apples that spoiled the bunch, making all nobles look bad.

  “Those with power can do things that other people can’t,” Alensia said quietly. “I don’t blame her for not being able to fix it herself any more than I blame you for not doing the same.”

  Her words weren’t accusatory, only simple statements of fact, but Rian felt like she had impaled him with a spear. “I see....”

  “Mother?” Maleth asked, his gaze whipping to each of the three adults in turn, looking more confused with each glance.

  Alensia faltered and she squeezed Maleth’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She sighed and turned to Rian. “Look, it’s not your fault, anymore than it is hers. I’m just… snappish after everything that has happened today.” She turned to Sachiel. “Was there anything else I needed to do or can Maleth and I go inside?”

  “Err, no, there’s nothing else,” Sachiel said. “Go ahead. I have a few more words to share with Rian anyway.”

  Her words were ominous but when the two of them went inside, Sachiel turned to Rian, closed her eyes and sighed. “For
what it’s worth, if there was anything, anything at all, that I could do to help make a difference with Graff, I would.”

  She was telling the truth, he could see that… but that had been only part of the problem. “Why do you stay with them? If you know what your comrades have done and will do, why serve alongside them?”

  She tilted her head curiously. “Have you not noticed the trouble occurring outside your castles? Banditry, roving bands of mercenaries, growing unrest. Better that those like Graff be serving the king than the highest bidder.”

  Rian narrowed his eyes. “That is what the nobility is for, not Graff. The baron serves under the count, under the duke, under the king, and the king honors them for their levies and service with honors and lands. That is how we won the Orc Wars. It is the nobility’s duty to protect their lands and people.”

  “The nobility, eh?” She weighed him with her gaze.

  He met it with his jaw squared. House Miel had served the kingdom for generations. To compare them to that sort of scum… his blood boiled.

  Perhaps Sachiel realized her rudeness as she cleared her throat and turned away. “I apologize but there are other matters I must attend to. Be careful though.”

  “I will, believe me.”

  ***

  As soon as the door opened, the attack began.

  Soren had been in the middle of dinner with a juicy morsel halfway to his mouth, yet the moment his gaze fell upon Rian, his eyes narrowed until his glare was as intimidating as he had ever seen it. “And just where have you been?” He demanded, pressing his point with a jab of the pork-tipped fork.

  “My apologies, sir, but -”

  “You were supposed to come here after meeting with Miss Licourt, but instead you disappeared into the streets of Sirala? You know you’re not supposed to venture out of the academy,” Soren paused, growling. “Or at least, I would have thought you had enough brains to realize it. Surely I don’t need to remind you that going off alone is the perfect opportunity for this cutthroat to find you.”