Chapter One: Something's Happened, Hasn't It?

It is said, by the more gossip driven magicians who frequent the Guild's Night Room, that the High Lord of the Magicians' Guild of Kyralia knows more about the events of the city than the King himself. Whilst he knew this was not really the case, High Lord Akkarin let his 'little family' believe it. After all, what is more imposing than an all-knowing papa?

As a steady flow of sleet fell outside his study window, Akkarin sighed, put down his pen and rubbed his temples. The words to the write what needed to be a carefully constructed letter to the Guild Ambassador to Lonmar were escaping him this morning. The situation, though not particularly serious yet, was sensitive- Ambassador Ferill had been seen taking a little too much interest in an important tradesman's daughter. The incensed father had written directly to the High Lord to ask for his personal assistance in stifling the liaison, whilst keeping the matter private to avoid further discussion of the 'scandal', as the strict Lonmar tradition would see it. Whilst Akkarin normally found such frivolous disputes a waste of his already stretched time and, if choice allowed, handed it over to the Expatriate Administrator, he knew the girl's father could easily influence the trading between Kyralia and Lonmar to become… disrupted, until the situation was resolved. So rather than be on the receiving end of the King's famous temper over a trade block caused by a pretty girl, Akkarin wrote. Or at least tried to.

I really am a father to them sometimes, he thought, cursing Ferill's obvious good looks and winning smile for getting them all into this complication.

But it also gave him a welcome distraction. Two events weighed heavily on his mind: the first, and more important, was the fact that a Sachakan slave-turned-magician had entered the slums. Through his powerful sense for magic and his well-positioned spies, there was no doubt in his mind that the little dance that the Ichani had him waltzing every six months was about to begin again. His heart protested at the idea of killing yet another naïve young man, as they always were, but what choice did he have? Besides, he was a Warrior, a sworn defender of the Allied Lands. This should be an easy choice, defending what you love. But at the same time, he was glad that it wasn't. At least he hadn't left all his morals buried in the dusty wastes of Sachaka.

The second weight on his mind was the Purge. Akkarin was not prone to strong feelings of compassion, but there was something so barbaric, so inhumane about the way people were driven from their homes. He looked out at the increment weather, and grimaced. The idea of people being made homeless in such conditions as these was…unsettling, at the very least. He knew it should stop. He knew it shouldn't happen. Five years a slave taught him that much, that every human life deserves at least some dignity. But he was fighting battles on so many fronts these days- the Guild, the Allied Lands, the King, the Ichani, one more ball to juggle would prove too much. And the stakes were too high for him to lose control now. But one day, I will. I promise myself that.

Sighing, he returned his attention to his letter. He reread his last sentence, and had a moment of inspiration. Nodding to himself, he dipped the pen in his inkwell and put it to the paper.

"No doubt you are aware of the potential consequences of such a-"

Then what felt like a crack of lightning lanced through his mind.

He gasped as pain filled his mind for the longest of heartbeats. He dropped the pen, causing it to spatter ink all over his neatly written text. As the pain eased, he cursed softly, realising that he would have to start all over again, but what that was not what truly concerned him.

What had just happened?

It was magic, that much was obvious. But how, where, and why did it feel so…strange? Akkarin knew the old saying that feeling magic was like feeling someone sing. This felt more like a shriek.

His thoughts immediately went to the newly freed Sachakan slave. But no, this must be the feeling of uncontrolled magic, not someone who was trained. Akkarin left of a soft sigh in relief- this was no rogue. But then the relief evaporated as the obvious question followed- if not a rogue, then…what?

He stared at the chair in front of his desk then, deep in thought for several minutes. Considering the possibilities, weighing up the odds.

A new novice? No, the Winter intake had all grasped Control last month.

An older magician dying? Again, no. No older magician died with the amount of power he had sensed. In fact, no magician currently in the Guild had that much power…His long fingers tapping the expensive oak desk and rain pattering on the window frame were the only sounds in the room for a minute or two.

He then suddenly looked up, a look of smug realisation in his eyes. He got up and went to the bookshelves on the other side of the room. His library on the second floor held most of his books, but he liked to keep his more valuable (and potentially controversial) volumes in here, away from prying eyes. Crouching to look at the bottom shelf, he found the book he had been looking for. It was a History of Magic, but not the one by Lord Delin of which there were countless copies in both the Magicians' and Novices' libraries. This was far older, and written by an non-magical Elyne scholar, who was therefore not politically swayed to write events in favour of Kyralia, or the Guild for that matter. He had found it in Lord Coren's chest, and had only read it once a long time ago, finding it not particularly useful compared to the other books which he had devoured for his personal requirements. But his long memory was trying to get his attention. There had been… something in this book. Going back to his desk chair, he skimmed the pages, hoping to jog his brain. After several minutes he was about to give up, but then he saw it. He clutched the book a little tighter as he began to read.

The Natural- the natural is a curious phenomenon, most found in Kyralian magicians, but has also been known to occur in Sachaka, if the legends are to be believed. Whilst most magicians need to have their powers released by another magicians to be loosened, the Natural's powers become loosened of their own accord, but are often released in a moment of violence or passionate emotion. Whilst never common, the Natural occurred less and less frequently as the age at which magicians were taught decreased. Now, there are no Naturals in living memory.

And that had been almost five hundred years ago.

The rapid knock that came at his door ten minutes later was inevitable, unavoidable, but still annoying.

Naturals were considered important and powerful figures in magical circles. They were, more likely than not ,exceedingly powerful, and therefore found finding magicians willing to teach them an easy task. They often found themselves at the highest parts of magical society.

As he waved the door open with magic, he saw blue robes in his peripheral vision.

However, Naturals, whilst possessing natural access, do not possess natural Control. Considering their often exceeding strength, they were considered highly dangerous by other magicians until their powers were Controlled. In the unlikely event that the reader of this text comes across a Natural, I would warn them to treat him with strong caution.

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" Akkarin asked, not looking up from the page.

"How could you possibly-"

"Because Takan was under strict instructions to not have me disturbed. Besides, First Day mornings are your schedule planning time with Osen, and only dire straits would take you away from such pleasures. So, what has happened, Administrator?"

Lorlen was one of the only people Akkarin could truly say he loved, but even with him there were limits as to what he could be told without drawing suspicion.

Lorlen sighed, clearly exasperated.

"It was The Purge- some street urchin threw a stone at the shield, broke it and knocked Lord Fergun out!"

Akkarin almost chuckled. "Fergun, eh? Well, at least the urchin had taste."

"Akkarin, it's not funny! He could have been seriously hurt!"

Akkarin looked up at the Administrator then, and seeing the almost wild look in his eyes, smothered another laugh and snapped the book shut, and slid it into a drawer. He waved Lorlen to the chair in front of the desk, who sank down gratefully. His face was flushed, hair a little askew as if he had been rushing around, and slightly wet from the rain. "I'm sorry, Lorlen, it's just…appropriate. He wasn't hurt, then?"

"A little concussed, but nothing that sleep and some calm and quiet will not cure, Vinara assures me." Akkarin nodded. Now to get the details.

"So the barrier just…broke?"

"Yes, it was just a stone! They all tried to attack who they thought threw it, but got the wrong one. The boy they struck…" Lorlen grimaced.

"Ah." Akkarin sighed.

"The crowd turned into a stampede and ran, according to Lord Rothen."

"Ah."

"And the one who actually did it got away."

"I see."

"The King is not going to be happy."

"No."

"And I'm not either."

"I can see that." Lorlen rose and began to pace the small space.

"How could this happen, Akkarin? How could there be a magician in the city outside of our control?"

Akkarin paused, considering how his options. As Lorlen watched him, gripping the back of the chair he had vacated with whitened knuckles, he chose an answer within the narrow field of understanding that Lorlen had. Let him keep his innocence, on so many levels.

"To start with your second question, there can't be such a magician. I would know."

"But-"

"And to answer your first, this could happen because it's not unprecedented."

"What isn't?"

"For magical abilities to manifest on their own."

Lorlen gaped at him, an expression of incredulity spreading over his face.

"What are you talking about?"

Akkarin held his gaze steadily.

"It's true. If you don't believe me, ask Solend. What that grumpy old man doesn't know about the Guild's history isn't worth knowing. Ask him about Naturals."

"Naturals?"

"Yes. Why would this dwell-turned-rogue magician choose such a time to attack us with so many witnesses and in such an odd way?" Lorlen considered.

"I suppose I don't know," he sniffed.

"The logical explanation is that he didn't mean to," Akkarin finished.

"You know everything, don't you?" Lorlen almost smiled. Akkarin held back a wince.

"It's a curse. Who saw what happened?"

"Well, only a few of the magicians actually saw the stone hitting Fergun. Only Rothen saw the youth."

Akkarin nodded slowly.

"Rothen, he replaced the Monster, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"A trustworthy source?"

"Absolutely."

"Good." He rose from his chair, deciding that his letter would have to wait. "Then we both have work to do it seems. Speak to Rothen and Solend, and arrange an Extraordinary Meet for tonight- say all must attend." He grimaced, smoothing his robes. "No doubt the King has been informed and has sent me his summons. I shall go and try and fend off his anger about the death and panic about this magic wielding urchin."

Lorlen nodded tightly.

"Very well. I'll do as you ask." He moved out of the way slightly so Akkarin could move past him to the door. The High Lord stopped in the doorway, turning back to give his friend a stern, yet soft, look.

"And try not to panic, Lorlen. We will find this boy soon enough and all will be well." He smiled crookedly, more to himself than his friend. "I have been through worse than this."

As he continued down the corridor to the stairs, he noticed Lorlen wasn't following. He looked back to see Lorlen smiling.

"Aha, well it turns out you don't know everything, oh mighty one." Akkarin frowned.

"Oh? What did I say?"

"Not a boy, Akkarin. It was a girl who threw the stone."

Akkarin let out a breath, and rocked back on his heels.

"A girl, eh?" He nodded to himself. "Well, that makes it all the more likely this was an accident. No one would train a girl as a rogue." Lorlen rolled his eyes.

"Now you're just being sexist." Akkarin gave him a haughty look.

"I'm being realistic, Lorlen, I don't mean to say I agree with such decisions." He gestured to the stairs. "Now come along and out of my house, Administrator- our little family is in need of its parents today."