Disclaimer: Every character, every storyline that matches with the original books all belong to Trudi Canavan. If you happen to stumble across this without reading the books, go read them! If you don't have the books to hand to read as well, go buy them! If you like the books, shout it from the rooftops (and Twitter and Facebook statuses). Let's make it as popular as Twilight and Harry Potter so that they'll make it into one or more films!
The wind blew cold around The High Lord as he stood on the rooftop of the University building. A sudden gust blew the hood of his black robes back off his head and threatened to rip the ribbon from his ponytail. As the gust died as quickly as it had begun, Akkarin sighed, pulled his hood back over his head and drew on a little magic to create a wind shield around him. The rooftop was a solitary place and allowed him to feel human once in a while. The fresh air was a nice change to the magically heated, wind-free air he normally used with people around. It took little magical effort to reinforce the impenetrable High Lord persona he had created five years ago, but emotionally he found it wearing.
It had been colder this time last year, with snow threatening to make the magicians even grumpier about the purge. At least the improved weather meant the atmosphere felt more upbeat. It would be over in a matter of hours anyway and they would all be back inside the Guild walls with their grumbles forgotten after an hour of warmth and wine.
While the yearly purge of the slums was a minor concern to Akkarin, the ripples caused within the Guild were more of a headache than he felt necessary. Firstly, it left approximately one hundred novices to their own devices. Albeit a freeday when most novices would be studying, but with a severely reduced number of magicians left on site it usually led to a few altercations between first year novices as they used the opportunity to misuse their magic with little fear of getting caught. The task of keeping control on the day of the purge was left to the Guild's Administrator, and Akkarin's best friend, Lord Lorlen, who would patrol the corridors with any magicians who had opted out of the purge until sunset when the rest of the Guild returned.
Akkarin had returned to the Guild after his morning meeting with the King to confirm the Purge was going ahead. Akkarin had not questioned the purge for the first three years, but things had changed in the last couple of years. He had seen the ripples for himself each year, plus there were bigger risks to removing your more young and capable magicians from the Guild and placing them in the slums for a day. He knew better than to really push the King to stop the Purge, it would mean answering difficult questions that he hoped to never be asked. He had started to move towards asking to only send half the Magicians, thus keeping half at the Guild, but this year the King had also ordered a clear out of the North Quarter stayhouses, which meant more people on the streets, which meant all capable magicians were needed.
Akkarin was rarely required on these days as The High Lord didn't deal with petty novice disputes, but he found that on the day of the purge his senses were always more acute, perhaps from his awareness of the dangers of an essentially empty guild. The smallest use of unexpected magic made him jumpy, so he would escape to the rooftop where a restricted number of people could come. That way he wouldn't betray his outward persona when reacting to the detection of any stray use of magic.
As he stood on the rooftop looking out across the Palace and out towards the Marina, he could sense the faint hum of the Magicians' protective shields being held in the three city squares, one each in the north, west and south quarters. Akkarin didn't really know what it was like to be down there in the purge. Although they had begun thirty years earlier under the command of the previous King, novices weren't involved. Akkarin had left Imardin for Elyne straight after graduating in pursuit of knowledge and had been made High Lord in the year he returned. For such reasons he had never witnessed the full event of the Purge.
His thoughts were interrupted by the door to the rooftop opening.
"Ah, Akkarin, I thought I'd find you here", the blue-robed administrator sighed.
Akkarin looked closely at Lorlen, he looked tired despite the day being young.
"What can I do for you old friend? You look as though you could do with a purge of the Guild and a good night's sleep!"
Lorlen laughed wearily, "A purge of our little family? Don't tempt me. How come you get to spend your day up here away from it all, while I have to try and keep our newest members under control?"
"I would offer to swap but I fear that you cope so much better than I in this situation" replied Akkarin relaxing back onto the rooftop railing, staring out towards the North Quarter. Lorlen sighed again in resignation and joined his friend in a moment of quiet comfort.
Just then, Akkarin felt a loud buzz as his skin prickled with the use of unexpected magic. Lorlen jumped as his companion abruptly stood up and looked out towards the Northern Quarter properly as if looking for something.
"Akkarin, what is it?"
"I'm not sure. Can you find out if anyone had detected a novice using magic on the grounds?"
- Guild Monitors! Has anyone -
Lorlen's mental call was interrupted by a cacophony of other mental communications. The conversations were confused and communicated a strong emotion of surprise and fear. The magicians in the North Square were trying to make sense of something, but Akkarin couldn't work out what. Something about a stone? A second later all communication died and the silence was followed with a very strong buzz of magic that made Akkarin cringe and rub his temples. What was going on? As soon as the buzz died away his mind was assaulted with a barrage of mental calls between the magicians, again full of confusion. Attempting to gain some control over the mental barrage of messages, he turned to Lorlen and found him with his eyes screwed closed and rubbing his temples as well.
- Magicians! Cease your mental calls! Akkarin sent out. The communications whimpered to an end quickly. He could now faintly hear a commotion coming from the North Quarter, mostly screaming.
- Lord Balkan!
- Yes, High Lord?
- What is going on down there?
- We may have a problem, High Lord.
- I gathered that much. Can you elaborate?
- Yes, Sorry, High Lord. We appear to have a rogue magician out here. But we've lost her in the panic. Lord Fergun has been hit. We may also have a secondary issue to address.
Akkarin was sent a mental image of a charred corpse lying in the square with a crowd of people fleeing in all directions.
Akkarin's heart was beating fast as he tried to think calmly. A rogue magician? He knew of one who was protected by the Thieves, but he was harmless enough. Had he missed a new Magician arriving in town? What danger was the Guild in? And what on earth had happened to result in a corpse?
He realised he'd been quiet for a little while, and Lorlen was looking at him as if to get his attention.
"Is it safe for them to come back here, or do we need to start searching immediately?"
- Lord Balkan!
- Yes, High Lord.
- What is your assessment of the current situation? Do you wish to stay or return?
- There is nothing we can do here, High Lord. Lord Fergun needs medical attention and we have little hope of finding her right now. We would be better off regrouping.
- Very well. Inform all magicians to report to the Guildhall upon their return.
- Yes, High Lord.
"Well," Akkarin turned his attention back to Lorlen, "It looks as though you won't be getting your much needed sleep tonight after all! Do you wish to reconsider our guild purge idea?" He smiled wryly and wished his could do more for his friend. His mind turned back to how little information he had and began to worry about what it meant. Was it time already? How much danger were they in?
"Lorlen, I'll inform the King while you get an initial idea of what happened before the meet."
"I get all the fun jobs" grumbled Lorlen, as they made their way towards the door to the rooftop.