Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

“Master Hale,” Jurgen said, “we have need of your services.”

“Whatever Your Holiness commands.” Demetrius dipped his head, his hand over his heart.

“Can you arrange for my friends to travel by one of your ships to Nessadene?”

“Why, yes, Sire. We would have little problem arranging that. When?”

“In the morning, or as soon as you can manage,” Laedron said.

“We have nothing going that way within the week, but we have spare ships.” Demetrius tapped his fingers together, seemingly deep in thought. “The Galerunner. We can make it ready to leave before midday.”

“Would that be acceptable?” Jurgen asked.

Laedron nodded. “Yes, that will do.”

“Then it’s settled.” Jurgen stood, raising his goblet and tapping it with a spoon. Eventually, the room grew silent. “Let us have a toast to our friends before they depart. May their journeys be safe and carry them home to gentler times.”

“Thank you,” Laedron said, standing and taking a sip of his wine. Valyrie and the others rose, as well. “I could live the rest of my life gladly to never see such times as these again.”

Jurgen patted him on the back. “Well said.”

“Only the truth of the matter.” Laedron glanced at his friends, then back at Jurgen. “May the Creator keep you safe.”

* * *

Once he had returned to the Shimmering Dawn headquarters and his friends had split off into their respective rooms, Laedron was alone in his quarters once again. No quiet knock ever came upon his door, and he realized that he would be left by himself. Does she find me repulsive? he wondered.

Might as well get after it, then. Perhaps I can experiment a bit tonight with a new spell. But what kind, and would it work? Am I capable of creating something from nothingness? He licked his lips and stared at the blank sheet of paper.

Taking a lesson from every other invention he’d encountered, Laedron examined his tomes closely and looked for spells that might combine together in a pleasing manner. I want to create something different altogether. Something never considered, at least as far as I know . He scrawled notes, drawing concentric circles out from a common focal point. Then, he drew a line from the center point outward, intersecting his other lines.

I know a spell for every kind of energy, for every offensive purpose. He recalled all of Ismerelda’s teachings in an attempt to compare the things he had learned against new ideas, new possibilities. Then he thought about the attack at the academy and how so many had died in the assault with no way to escape. Escape. A means of avoidance or retreat .

He began writing in his own spellbook. In times of immediate danger, a sorcerer must be prepared for any possibility. Even when a mage finds himself trapped with no obvious means of egress, he must find a way out. Thus, I propose to study such a means by use of magic.

Below the entry, he drew three circles. Then, he scribbled a black dot in the center of each one, and gazed at them for some time. Connecting the dots with a line, he put his head in his hands and considered the shapes.

An idea jumped into his head, and Laedron flipped open the tomes and searched any similar or related spells. With four books laid out before him, he glanced at the pages, then began writing again.

First, the subject must be made incorporeal. The lack of physical substance would make escape far easier. Second, the location to which one escapes must be well known and familiar-and probably nearby. Third, travel between the points should be instantaneous .

He stopped. Instantaneous. Instant travel? From one place to another?

Using a logical flow, he combined words of power of similar spells until he had produced a formulaic representation of the effect he desired. He stood in the center of the room and presented his rod. He focused upon himself and concentrated on the spell, but then, he stopped.

“What in the hells am I doing?” he asked aloud. He had been about to cast a new and unproven spell on himself, with the possibilities unknown and potentially destructive.

Spotting an empty candlestick on his nightstand, he focused on it instead. The candlestick sparkled with energy as he chanted, then it disappeared and reappeared a few feet away, hovering in the air. It plummeted to the floor with the clank of silver against stone. He crouched and examined the candlestick. He found no noticeable differences in it.

He concentrated on the candlestick once more and repeated the spell, focusing on the great hall at the bottom of the stairs. With a flick of his wrist, the candlestick disappeared in a sparkle of white light. He quickly descended the stairs and found the candleholder a few feet from the spot he had tried to send it.

Now, to test it for distance . He closed his eyes and pictured the common room of the former Shimmering Dawn headquarters. Casting the spell again, Laedron watched the glints of light on the silver until the candleholder vanished.

He took to the streets. After running for some time, he stopped in front of the old chapel. His heartbeat slowed, and he couldn’t feel the burn in his muscles. In fact, he felt well rested even though he had just finished a run across the city. What other surprises shall I face from this rejuvenation spell?

Laedron entered the chapel and searched the common hall. The coals of the fireplace had grown cold without someone tending them, and the place seemed more deplorable without people and activity. He located the candlestick beneath the dining table and closely inspected it.

Finding the candlestick to be pristine, he sighed. The moment of truth . He knew that he had to cast the spell on himself, and it had to work to be useful for escape. After all, moving a candlestick across an entire city would give cheap thrills to a crowd, but the performance had little utilitarian value. He had to know if the spell could carry people across such distances.

He took a deep breath to steel his resolve and firmly grasped the scepter. Closing his eyes, he recited the incantation, waving his rod to and fro and imagining the great hall of the Shimmering Dawn across the city. It must be somewhere I've seen before, somewhere I'm familiar with . Though he didn't know if it would help, he tried to center his concentration on a spot above the ground. He would be more than a little upset if he appeared in the hall with half of his body in the stone floor or a wall. Once he was confident, he flicked his wrist.

The world was suddenly replaced by a torrent of swirling color, but he could see the buildings along the route flash as he passed. His entire body felt as though it was being yanked in ten different directions, and he thought his head might spin off at any moment. He caught a glimpse of the morning light before he vomited the contents of his stomach onto a beautiful rug, then his body heaved uncontrollably. Eventually, he lay on the floor, not even caring if his face was in the vomit, and he savored the cool stone against his cheek. The flashing colors still clouding his vision confused him and made it impossible to tell if he had arrived in the real world or somewhere else entirely, and he couldn’t recognize the walls or the floor. Maker… where am I? What have I done?

" Lae! What in the heavens are you doing?”

Laedron couldn't respond since his body was still busy convulsing and trying to expel food that was no longer there to expel.

Marac crouched next to him, putting a hand on Laedron's shoulder. “Lae, are you all right?”

“What was that?” Valyrie asked.