Alastair Archibald - A mage in the making

"I intended no disrespect or impertinence, Lord Mage. I do, however, feel that we would better appreciate and understand what we are taught if we were given a practical demonstration from time to time. As to whether I should be punished for my beliefs… well, I am in your hands."

A gnat scratching its nose could have been heard within the classroom, but the silence seemed to thunder with implied applause from the other Students.

Crohn felt nonplussed by Afelnor's little speech, delivered with such self-assurance. The unyielding intensity in the boy's dark eyes was somewhat unnerving in one so young. It reminded Crohn of Loras Afelnor's steely Questor's gaze…

"And is this the opinion of all of you?" he asked, as much to fill the silence as for any other reason. The red-headed boy, Gaheela, raised his hand in affirmation, and most of the other boys followed suit. Crohn felt as if his eyes might fly from his head at any moment, striking some boy in the manner of a pair of his infamously accurate chalk projectiles. He knew he should not let such apparent mutiny go unpunished. Yet could he punish the whole class for an honest and forthright request?

What did the Afelnor boy demand that was so unreasonable? he wondered. I cannot respond just by saying that this is the way things are because this is how they have always been.

"Very well," he said, after a long pause, "but you are not, I repeat not, to take this as a sign of some new, benign order. I will not be cozened or bullied, is that quite clear?"

"Quite clear, Lord Mage!" the Students chorused. Crohn did not fail to notice the broad smiles on the faces of several of the Students, but he chose to ignore the fact.

"I want it clearly understood," Crohn said, "that you will learn spell-casting only when your appointed Magemasters decide and not before, and that is an absolute.

"As for a demonstration, attend."

Crohn stood before the class and steepled his hands. A chant similar to many the class had been taught rose from his lips, and a faint blue light began to coruscate around him.

Crohn could feel the normal mage's tracery of fine, yellow threads being drawn into his head, coalescing into a solid, golden mass as it did so. All of the mage's will and power had been directed to one end.

Slowly, the Magemaster rose into the air, still chanting, concentration etched in his face. He turned twice end over end, like a taper twirled in the fingers, and then descended again, landing on his feet. With a sigh, the Magemaster allowed the threads of power to disperse once more throughout his aura. He felt a distinct ripple of pleasure run through his body at the success of the complex spell he had just cast to perfection.

A ripple of applause rose from the class, with several muted cheers, and Crohn had to resist the urge to bow.

He cleared his throat to cover his confusion, regaining his accustomed pose as a cold, emotionless master of his own will. He turned his habitual, stern gaze on the Students, in control again.

"A relatively simple, even frivolous, use of the craft," he barked. "Some of you, if taught too much in too short a time, would be tempted to try the spell yourselves; in truth, most of you lack sufficient power and all of you lack sufficient control.

"Know you that, had I transposed the runes Het and Terva in the fourth stanza, I would have slammed into the ground with great force instead of spinning gracefully in the air. I might have sustained considerable injury, not to mention embarrassment, had I made the least error in my casting.

"As another example, had I given the third instance of the rune Sha in the second stanza a straight downward inflection instead of an initial rising cadence, I should have hurtled upwards and through the ceiling and doubtless injured myself even more."

"I would also be guilty of the offence of wilful destruction of House property, since I would have been held accountable for attempting a spell without sufficient preparation." Crohn punctuated this dry statement with a stern gaze that swept the room like the beam of a lighthouse.

"Even I, a Mage of the Seventh Rank, am not immune from such strictures. The least hesitation in the execution of the tertiary cadence would have given an unpredictable response, ranging from simple failure to my transportation to an unknown location, such as a desert or even the bottom of an ocean."

Crohn turned to Grimm. "Should any other of this class seek to question Scholasticate rules, he may well find himself at the bottom of an ocean, Afelnor; remember that. You may sit down."

Grimm returned to his seat, a little red-faced, but with the trace of a relieved smile on his face. He received appreciative nods from several of the boys. Crohn carried on as if nothing had happened, choosing to overlook this brief insurrection.

"The craft is not for the dilettante, or for the casual experimenter," he said. "A more powerful spell, if misremembered or miscast, could well endanger the very soul of the caster. A miscast Healing may kill the patient or the caster. Failed Weatherworking may inundate the land or bring vicious tempests.

"For this reason, we test your ability to remember faithfully each chant, and to be able to reproduce it again and again, without the least error in cadence and pitch, no matter what diversions or frustrations are placed in your path. We teach you to see your own powers and to control them with ruthless efficiency in all circumstances.

"Each of these facets will go towards making spell-casters of those of you who have the gift, but you will not be taught how to link the two aspects of magic together until you have proven your talent.

"Some of you will be called to another magical vocation, such as Scribing or Seeing, without ever being taught how to cast a simple spell. Only those of you who show the responsible attitude and rigorous application necessary for true magery will be given the secret.

"Should any here not be prepared to study what is allotted by the Magemasters, he may declare himself and leave now; for he has evidently neither the patience nor the diligence required of an Acclaimed mage. You will not be given further demonstrations of magic, gentlemen, and I will tolerate no further questioning of Scholasticate policy. You have had your fun, but it is over. I will not hesitate to discipline any Student who seeks a repeat performance. This is not a democracy, gentlemen. Either you accept the rules and strictures placed upon you, or you may consider a vocation outside this establishment."

Crohn folded his arms and glared at the Students. "Is there any boy here who will not give of his all, without question and without complaint? If so, you may speak now and save both of us much wasted effort and frustration."

The boys looked at the floor and made no reply. Crohn allowed uncomfortable silence to hang over the room like a funeral pall.

"That is well," the Magemaster intoned at last. "Now, if we have all had our fun, perhaps we may explore the thaumic resonances of runic groups of the Second and Third Families when combined with root tones…"

Self-control and discipline; these had become the new mantras, the new watchwords for Grimm's class. Again and yet again, the boys practiced writing and chanting of the most obscure and complex spells under all kinds of conditions.

Sometimes Kargan would burst a paper bag behind a boy engaged in a chant. On one occasion, the boys took it in turns to intone chants in which they were proficient, whilst being spun around in a rotating chair and suddenly stopped at irregular intervals. Many boys became nauseous, and several vomited. Only a few, including Grimm, managed to hold on to their senses and the contents of their stomachs long enough to complete the chant with sufficient control and attention to detail. Grimm studied meditation techniques in the Library, so as to allow the divorce of his mind from his body at these times; these exercises proved very useful.