9:20 Dragon
Egidius' Manor, Minrathous
Egidius swore loudly, grinding his fists into the top of his desk.
It was an expensive piece of furniture, but Egidius could afford such things and as ice began to crackle out from his knuckles and the wood began to creak and split, he only pushed his liver-spotted fists harder into its surface until, with a sound like snapping bones, the desk shattered into a hundred tiny fragments. The Magister flexed his fingers, his knuckles stiff and painful.
"Leave."
A dark robed figure which had until that point been kowtowed on the floor spun quickly and scurried out of the room, not bothering to waste time trying to rise to its feet before beginning to flee.
Egidius caught the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and sat down heavily on his chair, his body exhausted from the use of his Ability. He sighed heavily. There was a small sound behind him like a cough, designed to bring the Magister back into the present.
A slim, female figure drifted gently to Egidius' side, and stood waiting for the man to speak again.
"How is it possible that he keeps besting me?"
The woman was silent, but a slight tilt of her head showed that she was listening.
"Maker's Grace, that damnable man," Egidius snapped. "A thousand knives wouldn't so much as graze his ass! That was a Crow. 'The Best Assassins In All The Known World'. So much for the 'best'."
The woman moved a little closer to kneel by the side of the Magister, and began to gently push her head up and along Egidius' arm, rubbing against him in the manner of a cat. With his free arm Egidius reached over and ruffled her hair. With a sigh she rested her head against his arm.
"You are better than him, it is only a matter of time," she said. "You will succeed, I have no doubt." She spoke quietly, but there was a hardness in her voice.
"Yes, yes of course. I've no doubt I will, and when I do I will take his mantle and you may have mine."
The woman sighed, and Egidius noticed how her chocolate brown hair fanned out over his arm. He knew he was too old to be attempting a power struggle, especially with a Magister of such power and resilience as Danarius.
And yet… a few years ago, this young, beautiful and ruthless woman had entered his house, and her ambition had brought him back to life. She had awakened in him the passion and fire of his youth, and he longed to please her. He hadn't realised, until her arrival, how dull and quiet his life had become.
Somewhere, he had realized, he'd lost his influence. He had retreated back into his house, to his experiments and research, and the city had forgotten him. And then suddenly a young woman had knocked at his door, and asked to be apprenticed to him.
The breach of etiquette, if he had still been part of that world, would have been insurmountable. Instead, he had offered her a seat, and had asked her what she wanted. When she had explained her desire to him, and he knew she was speaking frankly and with honesty, he had felt something he had forgotten existed in himself, and had accepted her as his protégée.
He recognised on that first day what she was, but she didn't frighten him, as he assumed she had any other Magister she had approached. No, he found her enthralling, and he was not afraid of what he knew she would one day do to him. He was old, and, having faced a lonely and forgettable death, he was now energised by the uncertainty she had given him.
He loved her exactly for what she was.
Egidius was no fool, he wouldn't have reached the age he had if he were, and he knew that his love was unrequited. He knew he was being used for his status, such as it was. He had taught her all he knew, and she had learnt that and more in the few short years she had been apprenticed to him. Her goal was insanity itself, but if anyone could achieve such a thing, he felt she could.
Her Ability was almost unprecedented. She was quick to learn, and under his guidance had mastered the elemental forces of fire, ice and electricity in addition to spirit magic. She pushed herself hard, and often practised late in to the night. The muted screams of his slaves could often be heard well into the early hours of the morning.
Her blood magic was now all but perfected. She would soon be a formidable blood mage, and he wondered if anyone would ever hold her back. The one barrier to most mage's success was demonic possession, but demons held no sway over her. She had told him once that when she slept she was very rarely approached, even though her Ability was so strong and her practice of blood magic now so frequent.
Egidius had wondered about that. His apprentice should by rights have spent every night of her life refusing the cajoling influences of demons desperately offering her her deepest desires in return for a portion of her soul. The only answer he could think of to explain the lack of demonic interested in her was so inconceivable he had, for some time, ignored it. Yet, the more he learnt of her, the more he suspected, no matter how ridiculous it may be, that his suspicion was correct.
The demons did not trouble her for her soul. And Egidius knew why.
He watched his fingers run through her hair. His nails were yellow and cracked, and he wondered how much longer he could keep up with her. He was getting her an apprentice of her own, some big fish from a small pond – yet another sop to her vanity.
He felt a little relieved, though, that someone else could perhaps entertain her and help her in her intrigues and plots. By rights if not by law no mage should apprentice another. Apprentices were for Magisters only, but Egidius enjoyed her cruelty and her cold contentment, and knew that by providing her with an apprentice she would be able to bask in her own glory for many months. And, perhaps, some of his own slaves might live to see out the year.
The war on Danarius was another indulgence. Murder and intrigue between Magisters was common, and he could well understand why his apprentice had set her sights on such a man, but Egidius himself had no interest in furthering his own cause. Everything was for her.
If Egidius could bring about Danarius' death, then all his holdings and estates would become Edigidius' own. More importantly, Egidius would gain Danarius' title, leaving his own open for her to take. It was a simple task in many ways, and he was touched that she simply did not kill him herself.
Perhaps, after all, she was fond of him, at least as much as she would be capable of such an emotion.
He stroked her head again.
"You know that I love you, don't you, Hadriana?"
The young woman smiled against his arm, "Yes, I know."
A few days after the assassin had run from Egidius' study, Hadriana went to the market to meet her new apprentice. Not prone to excitement, she nevertheless felt thrilled at the prospect of lifting her status by having her own personal student. She idled away her journey, bouncing from side to side in her golden litter, a gift from Egidius, thinking of the things she could make her apprentice do for her.
In some people there is a moment when the darkness takes over, and they lose control. They lash out at an abusive husband or wife or insubordinate slave, and what was meant to be a slap becomes a beating or a murder. Whatever voice that normally keeps their anger and frustration in check is silenced and the darkness takes over.
Most of the time, when the city guard arrives at the scene, if they even bother to show up, they find a dazed figure standing above the bloody pulp of their victim, staring at their fists in horror. These criminals are usually sent to the city jail, and the incident is covered up or accepted by the local community. "He had it coming", "Well, she wouldn't listen", "The creature was unbiddable".
Society makes allowances for these losses of control, for the rising darkness, because, without allowances, most citizens would be jailed for life.
Hadriana was not most people. Her darkness never rose unbidden at uncontrolled moments.
Today, though, was a red letter day, and even she felt the excitement of it. Today I will get my very own apprentice. An apprentice! Such status, such power! A rare smile was ghosting across her lips, and although she tried to settle her expression she found she could not.
With an apprentice her path was set. No one could fail to recognise her ambition and her Ability. And Hadriana had a lot of Ability; she was a gifted mage. Now twenty, she held all the power in the House of Egidius, and had begun a year ago to cast around for greater triumphs. She had no love and little respect for her master; he was only a stepping stone towards her true goal: Danarius.
Whenever she thought about the Magister Danarius her skin prickled. She could sense in him a kindred spirit, and knew that when they finally met face to face he would recognise her power, strength and determination for what it was.
He would not shrink away from her, he would not display the decrepit weakness and limitation of the other mages and Magisters she had been forced to deal with thus far. Danarius would see himself in her, and nurture her, advise her and guide her. She longed for him. And so she had settled on a plan to bring Danarius to her.
She would draw his attention first to the house of Egidius, and from there contrive a display of her own power. Attaining an apprentice, an unexpected boon from her old man, would help to focus the gossip of the Imperium on her, adding to her reputation. Although Danarius was famous for his lofty attitude towards the other Magisters, she felt sure that the knowledge of a twenty-year-old apprentice with her own apprentice would pique his interest.
She felt the litter come to a stop, and the slaves lower her to ground. The sedan touched the earth with barely a bump.
She stepped out onto the crowded street, assessing the hustle and bustle that instantly developed around her. She sighted the meeting placed she had agreed with the hedge mage, and walked purposefully towards it. The crowd jostled around her as she moved through it, but she didn't mind. Normally such disrespectful shouting and hollering around her would have her seething for hours, her indignation only being dispelled with the practice of a new spell, once she had found a suitable blood supply from the slaves at home. Now however she was too excited to even notice the insolent manner in which the riffraff pushed and pulled around her in their pointless activities.
Walking towards the meeting post, she spotted a young man, about her age, who looked like the person she was due to meet. He had an open face and seemed, to her expert eye, gullible and naive. She smiled as she watched him turning his head this way and that, clearly bewildered by the noisy pandemonium of the market place.
She briefly dipped into his memories, and confirmed him as the man she was due to meet. She watched for a moment, enjoying his confusion and panic, before finally walking up to him.
"You must be my new apprentice. Yes, yes, I am a little young I know," she answered his shocked expression, "but nevertheless, I am she. Follow." She turned on her heel and began to walk back to the litter.
Callum stared after her for a second, before turning to his slave and instructing her to pick up his sacked belongings. He trailed after Hadriana, fighting against the thrusting crowds that separated them.
All this noise, all these people.
Callum felt panicked and unsure of himself. This Magister was barely older than him, and the journey had been long and sleepless. He missed his family, and this city was too busy, too crowded, too organic. It smelled of a hundred thousand people living their lives in public and on the streets, which was in fact very close to the reality of Minrathous.
He reached the litter, after having pushed and elbowed his way through the crowd, something he had noticed the woman who had met had not needed to do. The crowd, for her, just seemed to part. Once at the litter, she beckoned him inside. Callum placed his foot on the step, and only then looked behind him to check the whereabouts of his belongings and his slave. Luckily, both were only a few steps behind him.
"The slave may follow behind," Hadriana instructed. "Perhaps you wish to bring you belongings on board, however? I dare say they are less easily replaced."
Hadriana's question hung in the air, and Callum looked again at the slave.
He coughed, clearly embarrassed. "I would rather not lose the slave. She was expensive."
Hadriana sighed, already bored by this stupid country mage. "She can walk with my own slaves, they will keep an eye on her. And whatever your feelings on the matter, I still suggest your 'luggage'," she cast a disdainful glance over the linen sack the girl had slung over her shoulder, "is kept within the carriage. See to it, elf."
The luggage was stowed, and Callum disappeared inside the litter.
Varania, unsure what was required of her, began to jog after him as Callum was transported to his new life.
