Chapter 1: Arram Draper

The emperor sat, gilded on his throne of gold and smiled. It was not a pleasant smile; it was a smile that spoke of pain and self-satisfaction. Though he was conscious it would disturb the golden paint that lay around his mouth Ozorne smiled again, it was an event worth smiling at.

His hand moved protectively up to the giant necklace of black opals around his neck that he had had commissioned the day after he ascended the throne. The silky black stones slid through his fingers as his eyes, ever watchful, moved round the chamber. Slaves in loincloths milled around among the nobles of his council. It was not yet dawn and so the glass globes that illuminated the chamber were still glowing, but they were fading fast for they had been lit all night. Ozorne beckoned with one bejewelled golden hand, his many rings clicking as his fingers moved and the nearest slave rushed to his side and bowed quickly.

"Summon Master Lindhall and his student to me now" the Emperor ordered softly, the edge of delight faint but audible on his voice.

It had been long enough. Now he was emperor, things would change. "Oh yes," he murmured to himself. "It's about time you paid…"

* * *

The man rose from the bed and started to dress quietly. He felt, rather than saw the woman stir next to him as he pulled on his boots and turned to look at her, a silver shaft of moonlight breaking through the shutters to caress her face. Quickly he returned to the task at hand and retrieved his shirt from the floor. He couldn't make this any easier but it could quite easily be made more difficult. Shaking hands tied back his long black hair and he moved over to the mirror mounted on the wall.

Who will you be next time you look at yourself?

The thought remained unspoken yet still it worried him deeply.

"No," the woman whispered.

He swung quickly thinking she was awake but her eyes were still shut as she wrestled with the silken sheets. He eased them gently from her fingers and pushed the strands of honey coloured hair than had escaped back behind her ears. Before he could think properly about what he was about to do he bent over kissed her forehead and ran out of the room, his expensive kid boots making no sound on the wooden floor.

He felt his eyes stinging and furiously wiped them. His cloak whirled about his as he leapt lightly down those stairs for the last time, away from that place.

Though he knew it was pointless, that she would never hear him, he mouthed a final farewell: "Goodbye Varice," as he hurled himself through the streets of Carthak.

"Arram?" The familiar voice echoed through the empty pre dawn alleys of the city.

The mage held out his hand, a small ball of his black gift sparkled in his palm. "What's the word from our good friend the emperor, Lindhall?" he asked quietly still moving purposefully towards the university where his master waited.

Lindhall winced. "His messenger has already been here. We're commanded to make an appearance in two hours, at sunrise."

"Will that be enough time?" his apprentice asked.

"It should be ample. You've cut it rather fine though, as usual. I'll tell you one thing, I won't miss your complete lack of punctuality."

Arram smiled cheerfully, "But you'll miss me?"

"Just get here."

The mage's face disappeared and Arram closed his hand, extinguishing the flaming ball.

He passed swiftly through the courtyard that would in but two hours be full of bustling mages and white robed novices of every skin colour imaginable and tried not to think that he might never see that scene again. The university loomed ominously into sight: its two midnight painted pillars dominating the view. Briskly he ran up the stairs and into the tall, five tiered building.

His master's study was at the end of a very long, winding corridor but eventually Arram reached the door bearing the familiar golden plaque:

Master Lindhall Reed – Plants, Animal Behaviour and Habitats.

He leaned in close to the door, knocked playfully and called "let me in dolt."

It swung open grudgingly to reveal Lindhall standing amid the chaos that was his workroom. "I wish you wouldn't do that," the older man told him, a sigh in his voice.

"Do what?" Arram asked innocently, picking up a rock containing a small fossil and turning it over in his hands curiously.

"Shout out my opening spell to the whole corridor. I don't want to have to change it, it took a lot of work putting in place."

Arram looked up from his study of the bones. "I put it in place," he pointed out.

"I know that. I don't want to remove one of your spells!"

"Lindhall, I didn't realise you were so sentimental," he beamed. And turned his concentration back to the skeleton he held. "Lindhall, what is this?"

His master scowled at him. "You know that I meant it would be incredibly difficult to break. And what you hold is a rare and exquisite almost complete skeleton of a creature now long extinct. It seems to be some kind of bird-lizard." Hastily he pulled his treasure back from his student. "This really isn't the time Arram."

He placed the bone back on the tray it had been in previously, causing a very large pile of what were probably extremely old and extremely valuable books to topple to the ground. Clouds of dust billowed up as they crashed around him. Lindhall's birds awoke and started screeching. As the mage rushed to calm them Arram stooped to pick up the books. Deftly he stacked them into a precarious pile and removed his hand experimentally; the books wobbled dangerously. He whispered a couple of well chosen words and removed his hand, the pile slid forty-five degrees but stayed upright, his gift still glinting around the edges of the stack.

"Don't you ever do anything properly?"

He looked up guiltily. "You saw that then."

The usually easy-going mage sighed despairingly. "I don't need to see anymore. We're linked with a magical bond, my apprentice. I can feel when you enchant anything." His care worn face twitched into a smile than appeared much more at home than his previous expressions. "Besides I actually know you. You're hideously lazy. Never do a job manually that can be completed with magic, even if it would be much easier just to heap the books in smaller piles that don't over balance."

"Easier perhaps, but as entertaining? If I had used my common sense you would've been deprived the chance to reprimand me. I know you enjoy it so much." He winked.

"I don't enjoy it. But…"

"But?"

"You need to learn that magic isn't always the answer. It won't always be the answer. Learn to do things with your own two hands." Lindhall gestured to a display case. "I built the iguana's home myself and it has never failed me."

Arram tried at the same time to look interested and to ignore the fact that he had fixed that same cage three times with magic.

"I understand Lindhall. Honestly."

"Do you? Sometimes I wonder if you've learned anything at all from me."

He walked to the window and looked out over the city. The globes had all gone out now and the first of the sun's rays were licking over the houses. "It's almost time. Follow me."

They stood in one of Lindhall's smaller workshops and Arram surveyed his work dubiously. "Will this seriously work?"

"To be honest with you I really don't know. It's never been done before, you know that."

His student grinned shakily. "I know. I was just hoping you'd reassure me."

"You appreciate, of course, that I would never do that that?"

"Of course." He assessed the situation again critically. "But it has a chance, right? We can hope?"

"If we cannot hope then life becomes futile," Lindhall commented. "But on a more direct note, yes I think we have every reason to believe that our plan will succeed." He looked up and focused on his student. "Are you ready?"

Arram cast one last look around the room he had grown to love and the man who was now dearer to him than his own father and nodded grimly.

"Good," Lindhall turned to pick up a book and found himself clasped tightly in Arram's desperate hug. "Yes, yes…" he murmured. "I'll miss you too."

The younger man detached himself from his master and withdrew a large black stone from inside his shirt. "This is it then."

Lindhall nodded. "Have you chosen a new identity?"

Arram managed a weak smile. "I have indeed. From now on I shall be known as Numair Salmalin."

Lindhall raised his eyebrows sceptically. "So nothing dramatic then?" Arram opened his mouth to protest but Lindhall waved it aside. "I'm sorry. I know you've always wanted a proper sorcerer's name. Now you finally have the chance. Now you can go out and finally do something useful with your life instead of staying here cooped up with me and my birds. Not leaving because you didn't want to hurt my feelings."

"Lindhall, I…"

"We both know I taught you all I could ages ago. You've far surpassed me in your abilities and there are so many other places on this world a black-robed mage would be needed."

At a loss for anything to say Arram embraced his master again. "Lets get this over with then."

The sun was now completely up, at any moment someone would appear demanding to know why they had not yet accepted the emperor's summons.

"How about now?"

Lindhall shook his head. "It still sounds like your voice is coming from the other side of the room."

As if from a distance he heard his apprentice sigh again. "Alright, last try. If this doesn't work I'll just have to appear before Ozorne without it." A few archaic words filled the growing silence. "How about now?"

"It's not perfect but it'll do."

"Now the difficult part." Arram emerged from behind one of the curtains. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Certain."

The youth placed his hands either side of Lindhall's head, his index fingers touching his master's temples. "Here goes then."