Sabledrake Magazine
May, 2003
Feature Articles
CTF 2187: Spectres of Darkness
Interview: Tee Morris & Lisa Lee
More "Filks Man Was Not Meant To Know"
Regular Articles
Resources
The Ways of Magic, Part I
Copyright © 2003 by Maelan Peredhil
The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly on the gardens of the Adani, the age-old house of magical training. It was always hot this time of year. The sun reflecting off the inside of the massive sandstone wall that surrounded the Adani Chapel helped none; it merely served to heat up the place like an oven.
The Chapel itself gave the appearance of coolness, due to the deep blue stone that covered the entirety of the huge, domed building, glinting as the harsh rays of the sun struck it. Far taller than any of the surrounding buildings, or indeed, most any other building in the world, it was the home of many hundreds of wizards, apprentices, assistants, clerks, servants, and representatives of all the many other professions that the keeping of such a place required.
Gold edged the eaves, far above the ground, and traced patterns along the upper walls. Green vines adorned the lower parts of the Chapel, making the wall appear to shimmer as a breeze moved their leaves.
Among the trees, pathways, and small fields of the Adani grounds other houses stood, of varying sizes and shapes. Some were cottages, small enough so that there had to be only one room inside. Others were grander, two, even three floors high, and so large as to be fit for a wealthy merchant and his family (always a numerous one). These were decorated almost as generously as the Chapel was, with gilt edging or bright paint. The private dwellings of wizards, perhaps.
People moved about the garden; alone, or in twos or threes. Here, a gardener trimmed the bushes along a path; there, a wizard strolled with his apprentice, lecturing about the subtle ways and mysteries of magic. And, just inside the gates that led from the Adani into the outside world, a girl stood alone, looking about with an air of wonderment.
About fifteen in appearance, she was neither tall nor short. Her brown hair was cropped at her shoulders, arrayed neatly around a pretty, round face with a determined nose and hazel eyes. Her mouth, usually ready to turn up into a smile, currently was having its bottom lip attacked by her teeth, gnawing it in nervousness. She stood there a moment longer, then approached the gardener at the hedge.
"Excuse me," she said, tapping him on the shoulder.
He started and looked up at her, then straightened and set down the small knife he had been using to trim the branches. "How may I help you, lady?"
"Where . . . Where can I find the Wizard Shantir?"
The man scratched his head, then pointed to one of the large houses, a short distance to the Chapel itself. "Well, that's his house, but I don't know if he'll be in there now. He may be giving a lesson."
"That's all right. Thank you."
"No bother." He tugged his forelock to her, then bent back over the bush.
The girl turned and headed in the direction of the house the gardener had indicated, praying to whatever gods there were that the wizard was there. She wouldn't feel right waiting around in an empty house and have servants she didn't know walking in on her.
Shantir's house was slightly simpler than the other houses of its size; black paint was the only embellishment on the blue walls. Upon opening the door, she found herself in a large, and very interesting, hall. Dusty light streamed in through windows that looked as if they hadn't seen a good cleaning in some while, casting puddles on the thick carpets that partially covered the fine wooden floor.
Three doors with golden doorhandles were at the back of the hall, carved with a pattern both plain and pleasing to the eye. Bookshelves lined the wall to her left, filled with timeworn tomes and scrolls, manuscripts left from ancient times. Several stuffed owls and a few strange, dead creatures sat on the tops of the bookshelves. More than one were moth-eaten.
Two oblong tables sat beneath the windows, cluttered with odds and ends, more scrolls and books, and a dead mouse. A few chairs, padded with cushions that seemed to have had more use than many of the other items in the room, were placed randomly about the hall.
In one of these, a tall young man sprawled, head thrown back and sound asleep. Sandy brown hair, cut slightly longer than most boys the girl knew, fell back from his pale face. Despite the robes he wore, dark blue with a dazzling amount of embroidery at the cuffs and hem, she could tell he was quite thin, almost gangly.
Cautiously, she approached him. "Pardon me, but . . ."
He did not stir.
"Could you tell me if the Wizard Shantir is in?"
The only movement was a slight twitch of his slender hand. The girl hesitated, then poked him. He woke then, jumping up and staring about wildly for an instant before focusing his gaze on her. He did not look overly pleased.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"My name is Avaline. I've come to see the Wizard Shantir. Is he here?"
The man sat down slowly. "Yes..." he began warily. "But you can't see him. He's busy." As he spoke, he was glaring at Avaline with plain animosity.
"He said he would see me today."
"Nonsense." He glanced over his shoulder at the door behind him. "He tells me everyone whom he plans to see, and he said nothing of you."
"Perhaps he forgot," Avaline suggested.
"I think not. Go away and come back tomorrow; perhaps he'll see you then."
"Rodair?" came a voice from the doorway behind them. The man whirled around, though he managed to do it while staying seated in the chair.
"Yes, Master Wizard?"
Shantir stepped forwards. He was the image of a wizard; long white hair and beard, dark robes, wizened face. What was unusual about him, though, was the untidiness of his hair, and the numerous stains that his somewhat wrinkled robes. Clear blue eyes sparkled merrily beneath bushy eyebrows.
"What are you telling the poor girl?"
Rodair colored brightly. ". . . Nothing."
"Is that so . . ." He came level with the chair and placed a hand on Rodair's shoulder. "Then what was all that about me being busy?"
"Well . . . I thought . . ."
"Rodair, spare me your excuses. You knew full well that I had a visitor today."
Rodair looked down at his hands folded in his lap. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Don't do it again." Having finished with Rodair, he turned to Avaline. "You are Avaline, I may presume?"
"Yes . . . Master Wizard."
He smiled welcomingly at her and held out the hand that had been resting on Rodair¹s shoulder. She took it, feeling the rough lines of his dry palm. "I'm very glad you came. I have been waiting eagerly ever since I received your letter. Now, if you have no objections, I will test your magic right away; no need for you to have to wait for an age and a day."
"As you will."
"Come this way, then." He led her through the door on the far right through which he had come, Rodair's hostile stare following Avaline's back until Shantir shut the door behind them.
Shantir, seated comfortably in a chair behind his crowded desk, stared at Avaline over peaked fingers. The girl waited nervously for him to speak. At last, he did.
"You are very talented."
"Thank you."
"You have a great amount of power in you, and it could be trained very quickly. However . . . I hesitate to take you on as my apprentice, as I have one already. I could, of course, recommend you to another wizard who has no apprentice, if you so wish."
Avaline’s face fell, but she squared her shoulders and spoke in a steady voice. "If you wouldn’t mind."
The wizard studied her for a moment more. "Or perhaps not," he said then. "You have such a great inborn talent that it would be no large burden to take you on and train you. As long as you wouldn’t mind sharing me with another apprentice."
"Not at all!"
A smile bloomed on Shantir’s kindly face. "Well, then it is settled. You are welcome as my new apprentice, Avaline." He rose and came around to Avaline’s side of the desk. "I’m glad to have you." He placed an arm around her shoulders and brought her to the door of the room and out into the hall. "Rodair!" he called.
The man jumped up from his chair at the sound of his name and hastened over to them. "Yes?"
"I would like you to meet Avaline again; I have taken her as my new apprentice."
Rodair froze. "N . . . New ap . . . apprentice?" he sputtered.
"Exactly. Avaline, this is my other apprentice, Rodair."
"Pleased to meet you." Avaline hoped he would be a touch more civil now that she was his fellow apprentice. She extended a hand to him. After a moment, he took it, then hastily let go. Abruptly, he turned and stalked quickly towards a fourth door that she had not noticed before; it was in the left wall of the hall, squeezed between two bookshelves.
The Master Wizard summoned him again before he could exit. "Rodair, will you bring her to her room? She can have the one next to yours. Return to me when you are finished."
His apprentice stopped and nodded reluctantly. He gestured impatiently to Avaline without turning to face her, then opened the door and went up the stairs that were revealed behind it.
Shantir gave Avaline a small push after him. "Go where he shows you. You can stay the rest of the day in your room; I won’t give you any lessons today. You don’t happen to have anything in the town that you need, do you?"
Avaline shook her head; in matter of fact, she’d needed to pawn the few things she had brought to have enough coin to stay a night at the inn in the town outside of the Adani walls.
"Go on, then. And don’t mind Rodair," he added as she approached the doorway. "He just doesn’t like any change in his life here."
Rodair was waiting impatiently for her at the top of the stairs. "Hurry up." As soon as she reached the top, he continued on down the narrow hallway they were now in. At the first door, he stopped and shoved it open. "Here’s your room. Mine’s the next one down the hall; don’t even try to come in." And with that, he left, slamming the door behind him.
"He’s friendly," Avaline muttered to herself, staring around her new quarters.
It was a fair-sized room, and rather friendly. It had no windows, but a cheerful fire burned brightly in the hearth, bathing the chamber in a warm glow. A bed big enough for two stood in the middle of the room, the head up against the far wall. To her left was a wardrobe of finely polished wood, reaching almost to the ceiling. Two chairs sat by the fire.
Avaline wandered further in, admiring the room. She sat down on the bed, which was pleasantly soft, a grin appearing on her face.
Even Rodair couldn’t spoil this - her own room, far finer than what she had had before, and she an apprentice to a powerful wizard. Life didn’t get much better.
* * *