The
Record of the Heresy War
Part
I, Chapter I
The
26th day of Winter, Year 906 (Vanic Reckoning)
In the
Magic Guild, Vane:
Lemia sighed. Outside, snow was falling steadily from the evening sky. She gazed wistfully out her open window and used a dab of her magic to call the winds into the room. Her teeth chattered as the winter breeze filled Lemia's study, threatening to upset a few short stacks of parchment on the desk, but she was glad for it; this was as close as she had come to the outside world in two seasons.
She studied, for the time being, only practical magic; Linira had decided that it was useless to continue her daughter's training as a stateswoman, so long as she could not even direct the growth of a candle flame. Their first lesson together had ended with Lemia running from the room in tears, the full, ugly weight of her incompetence bearing down upon her mind.
From that point, she had devoted herself to studying magical theory from all the books she could find in Vane's vast libraries; history, law, and the like could come later, after she had mastered the elements. Though her devotion to her own work left her exhausted and without much free time, she could not deny that her magic had also improved dramatically under the supervision of her mother. The blood of the Ausa clan that flowed in the veins of the powerful sorceress who sat at the Magic Guild's head was the same blood that flowed in hers. Under Linira's exacting guidance, she had progressed to the level at which directing the winds, for example, could be done almost unconsciously, whereas it had cost her a good amount of sweat to direct them before. Linira had sniffed at her daughter's poor control over the elements when their lessons together began, but she acknowledged Lemia's talent when, after two seasons, the girl could not only direct the movement of the elements, but call them into existence as proficiently as any journeyman of the Guild.
The Majesty of Vane was aware of the amount of individual study undertaken by her daughter, and took every effort to diminish her overwhelming arrogance. "What you are doing now, you should have been able to do years ago," she had informed her dismissively at the close of their previous lesson. "I do not, however, begrudge credit where it is due. You shall begin your study of war magics at your next lesson." War magic ranged from somewhat complex to devastatingly so; that Linira wished to broach the subject showed her high regard for Lemia's abilities, no matter what she said.
Lemia had learned not to respond with anything more than, "Yes, Mother," or "Yes, Majesty" when Linira spoke, regardless of her inner thoughts. Each lesson concluded with a lecture on the importance of protecting the people of Vane. "Always the people, the people, the people," the girl grumbled out the window. "Does my mother think of nothing else?"
She considered that carefully. While Lemia spent her mornings and afternoons studying spell models and formulae, this was all for her own good. She did not think about the people, and she would admit this readily; for the moment, her own improvement was more important. Her mother, on the other hand, already the most accomplished mage in the Silver Star, rose before dawn to review the Guild's and the city's finances with the Premier, spent the morning in meetings with her Cabinet, held audiences open to the public in the Great Hall of the Magic Guild instead of taking midday, taught general classes at the Guild in the afternoons, alternately visited the city's merchants, nobles, and commoners in the early evening, and took a light meal before devoting hours, each night, to personally coaching Lemia. At midnight she would take her leave of her daughter in order to scry for disasters before finally taking rest for, at best, two or three hours before starting the day all over again. Linira Ausa did not live for herself, Lemia mused. Until Lemia could be compared to her own mother, though, living for others was out of the question. After a minute she turned away from the window and back to her book, satisfied.
Fundamentals of Elemental Aegis Magics was an introductory text on defensive war magics. The models described in the tome made Lemia's head hurt; the most basic spell involved neutralizing the destructive power of heavy wind by countering it with the force of the earth before calling these elements, along with water, in huge quantities to surround a single person in a protective shell of ice. Then there was fire to invoke, at low intensity and with marked accuracy, so as to keep the target warm but not melt the barrier of ice. Finally a tremendous use of gravitational magic clarified the ice and drew it into his or her body, so the target could see through the shell and wear it as he or she would a suit of armor.
There was so much that could go wrong with a spell like this, she remarked inwardly, her heart thudding at the possibilities. What if the earth failed to calm the wind? Fierce blades of ice would surround the target. Too much fire would annul the spell's effects; fire directed poorly could immolate the target's body instead of warming it; too much gravity, and the target would be crushed, and none of this could take place without a monumental use of power—
Three crisp knocks on her door broke her concentration. She looked up from her work, half-glad and half-annoyed for the distraction. "Enter," she called out.
The door opened to admit a tall boy with shoulder-length, silver-blond hair. His robes, made of a floaty, shining, light-blue material, bespoke his station; his red eyes were bored but expressive and his ears pointed elegantly upward and out. It was Ghaleon mag Falin, holding a rolled-up piece of parchment with a blotch of red wax she recognized as the Majestic Seal. A message from her mother, no doubt. She made a face at the intruder. "Yes?"
"Her Majesty would have me understand that this is the hour you normally take your lessons together," he murmured with a slight bow. Why does he speak so blasted quietly? Lemia thought, irritated. "It is," she informed him tersely, glancing out the window and noting the darkness. "Where would Her Majesty be?"
He bowed again. "Her Majesty wishes that I take her place as your teacher for a time."
At that, Lemia could not suppress first a giggle, then uproarious laughter. Ghaleon looked on dully as he waited for her to calm down. Catching her breath, Lemia finally sputtered, "But you're just a student, like me, aren't you? How can a mere student teach the Junior Premier of the Magic Guild? This is a joke, right?" She smiled at him.
"I have concluded my studies at the Guild," he replied evenly. She laughed some more. "Don't be silly, you've only just turned, what, sixteen. You expect me to believe you've graduated two years early?"
"Yes," he answered unabashedly. "Her Majesty desires that I be the one to teach you the basic war magics," he replied evenly, holding out the parchment. Glaring, Lemia snatched it from him, ripped open the seal, and skimmed the note. He was indeed to be her teacher, and with her own mother's blessing. She crumpled the parchment and tossed it behind her back, regarding the boy who still stood impassively. "Shall we begin?" he asked her.
"No, we shall not," she retorted imperiously. "I want to know how this happened."
"How what happened?" he asked.
"We took all the same classes together all of two seasons ago!" she cried.
"You took all your classes with me," he replied. "At the time I was also taking the Guild's most advanced classes in magical theory, elemental magics, seeing magics, and aesthetic magics. A season ago I was tested by Her Majesty and His Excellency the Premier and given my credential. I had just returned from studying healing magics at the Shrine to Althena, actually, when I received Her Majesty's offer of work. If you please?" he said, taking advantage of Lemia's momentary shock to begin their lesson. "We will begin by gauging your abilities. Please cover the floor of this room with a thin sheet of ice."
He tested her for an hour while her mind attended to the double task of controlling the elements and racing through the implications of what Ghaleon had said. She had had little time to herself when she had taken general classes with the boy, and yet he had somehow found time to study with the Guild's very best, and do so well that they had conferred the title of journeyman – no – scholar, now, upon him two years before he turned eighteen, breaking their own traditions. Her own mother had beaten her classmates by a year, graduating from the Magic Guild at eighteen; some did not achieve journeyman status until their twenties or thirties. Someone had seen great talent in the sixteen-year-old boy who was now calmly explaining to her the basics of the same defensive magics she had been reading about before he came in. As much as she hated to admit it, his description of what she must do was much easier than the book had made it seem. She suddenly had an idea.
"What are the more advanced manifestations of this spell?" she asked, genuinely interested. "Can you show me?"
He closed his eyes. An invisible coolness started at her toes and made its way up her body, followed by a warmth that took her over in the same way. Her skin now gleamed with a pale yellow light; when she tried to touch one hand with the other, it tickled.
"Ice, right?" she asked. He nodded. "What else?" she asked.
"Try to figure it out," he answered. "Enter the spell with your mind."
She stared at him. He frowned. "Come, girl. Close your eyes and concentrate. You should feel the elements about you, and within."
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, failing to notice he had begun to address her as a master would his apprentice, as a teacher would his student. "The tickling … it's … it smells of … water?" She opened one eye uncertainly. Her teacher smiled lightly. "Not bad. You're close – try harder."
Lemia closed her eyes again and felt one hand with the other. At once her mind was flooded with the memory of a day she had spent in the rain at the age of six. She had gleefully spun in circles until the rain turned into a storm and her attendants made her come back inside.
"Thunder," she stated. "Thunder and lightning."
"Very good," Ghaleon said with approval. "Try the next layer."
The next layer was the warmth she had felt. That was easy. "Fire."
"And the third?"
Coolness. It felt like water, but at the same time, she knew it could not be. She probed at it carefully within her existence, trying to discern the nature of what she had felt. In her mind's eye she saw herself as though wrapped in cool silk threads, fluttering loosely. "It's air," she decided. "The third element is air."
"Correct," he affirmed. "And what else is there?"
She opened her eyes and looked at him quizzically. "Didn't I just pick apart everything you did?"
He nodded once. "Almost. There is yet more."
Grumbling inwardly, she tried to remember. The coolness, and after that had been the warmth, and all of a sudden she had glowed. Gravity? Gravity always behaved a bit strangely, but she sensed that gravity had no place in this working. Each layer of protection was strong in its own right. They worked together, but their cooperation was not gravity's doing; she knew from her reading that gravity could throw the elements together, but that they would cooperate so willingly with one another despite their natural oppositions indicated a higher, benign power.
"It is nothing I have studied," she said at last. "This cannot be an element."
"Quite right," he informed her. "I am impressed. It is the power of Althena herself that I have employed to fashion the best protection possible." He smiled. "Please think of this as a gift, Mistress Lemia. A sign that we will do good work together in the future. The visual effects will fade in time, but only powerful magic will ever be able to reverse the abjuration. The protection," he added when she looked at him questioningly. "And now, I bid you good night. We will resume our studies tomorrow at the appointed time."
She actually found him somewhat charming. "Good night, Ghal— Master. Master Ghaleon." But he was already shaking his head. "It is just Ghaleon, if you please, Mistress Lemia."
"Then I am Lemia to you," she responded, holding out her hand. He took it, bowed, and left her.
For a time she stood in the center of her study; the gleam of her skin did fade, and yet she still felt the elements within her. She smiled uncertainly. The mag Falin boy, her teacher … it was, perhaps, not so terrible of a development.
