Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: A sorcerer challenged by Aslan. Love and friendship alike are tested by his presence. And the Gentle Queen faces her own challenge when the sorcerer's true colors are unveiled.

A/N: If you have not read the first eight stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, and Veiled), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Magics

The last red glow of sunlight had vanished before his father finished preparing the mirror. "Mirrors are capable of showing us anything we desire. Depending on one's strength, it is possible to guess at the most likely path for the future or to hear as well as see what is taking place a thousand leagues away. But," his father pressed one broad hand against the mirror's surface, "it is also capable of showing us the past."

The boy leaned forward, eyes wide, as the mirror's polished surface darkened then rippled beneath his father's hand. The image changed from a reflection of the room they were in now and its two occupants to a tumbled down stone tower. A circle of robed figures were ringed around an altar with the boar and bear gods carved into its surface. They were swaying as two more robed figures dragged a small girl forward. The mirror produced no sound but the boy's heart clenched as he looked into the girl's terror-filled eyes.

"Otec . . ."

The girl was flung onto the altar as if she was nothing. Then the tallest figure stepped forward, a knife clenched in one hand. The knife came down and-

His father pulled his hand away from the mirror, banishing the scene. "Black magic thrives on pain, misery, fear, and blood. Blood magic leaves a mark on the practitioner's soul and only the darkest of mages can use it continually without feeling the pain it causes, the uncleanliness it leaves in its wake. My words are not popular outside these walls, too many have dabbled in the darker magics to be content with their natural talent alone, but even the dark mages do not pursue the most dangerous practices. It would be too easy to make a mistake that would devastate our world."

His gaze moved from his father to the mirror. "Is that what happened to Matka?"

His father's eyes blazed red for a moment but then the glow died, leaving behind only brown eyes. Weariness etched itself across his face as he sat on the hard stool. "Your mother was killed by a group of dark mages who attacked our house while I was away tending the Queen's business. They wanted our newborn son. She stopped them but the mages who survived your mother's initial defense decided they could content themselves with her death. They used her death to add power to their spells and had set the house ablaze by the time they sensed my arrival. I did not bother to disguise my magic. I had felt the defenses being breached and I felt your mother's death. The dark mages foolishly thought they could fight me. They were wrong. I controlled the fire until I could find you and carry you out of danger."

His father stopped suddenly then shook his head. "That is why I brought you here to Charn. You must not dabble in the darker magics, Markus. You have been given a powerful gift. Do not abuse it."

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Pounding. Frantic beating on the main doors. He sat straight up in bed as he heard his father's heavy footsteps pass his bedroom and then stomp down the stairs. He heard the door open and a frantic cry before his father hushed whoever had come.

Creeping out of bed, he glanced at the veiled mirror but immediately dismissed the idea. His father always knew when he used magic. Instead, he eased the door open and crept to the top of the stairs. The main doors were shut but a short, round man was clinging to his father's robes. His own dark brown robes of an under-mage were rumpled and there was panic shining in his round face. "You do not understand, Master Arctus! She went to Master Jotham a week past and told him she has found a way to end the war forever."

"Nonsense. Jadis' army has suffered heavy losses and the people she tricked into supporting her attempted usurpation are turning against her. She cannot win this war."

"No! She can even if she must trample our blood to do so. She has learned the Deplorable Word."

His father stepped back. His tanned face had drained of all color and, for the first time in his lifetime, Markus saw fear in his father's eyes.

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A/N: Please Read and Review!