James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

"Very good. Thank you, Sevren," the Keeper said. "You may go."

Sevren bowed and took his leave of them, shutting the heavy, steel-reinforced door behind him.

"Stand in the center of the circle," the Keeper said in a calm voice. Tarrin did as he was told, moving into the middle of the room and standing in the middle of their loose formation. When the all took steps backwards, up against the walls, Tarrin started to get worried. They arranged themselves in a curious pattern where six of them stood at equal distances to one another, as the Keeper stood a bit farther behind their circle and between Ahiriya and a tall blond woman, as if she had no specific place in their order. They raised their hands, almost in perfect unison, and Tarrin felt that sensation of drawing in all around him. He was surrounded by it. They remained perfectly still for several moments, and Tarrin could sense something around them, around each of them. Each of them took on an aura, a visible halo of light of the colors of the spectrum. Ahiriya was surrounded by red, and the Keeper by green, and the others were surrounded by a distinct color. Orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and violet. The lights were ghostly, almost shimmering, as if his eyes had trouble focusing on them long enough, as they tried to hide from his eyes. Along with the auras, Tarrin could hear musical chords as if they were being played by phantom musicians, musical notes of no specific timbre, as if sung by women with no voices. It was not a sound he was hearing with his ears. Instead, it seemed to reverberate inside of him, conducting against his soul directly.

"What do you see?" the Keeper asked in a almost chanting, sing-song voice.

"Colors," he replied. "Each of you is covered in colored light."

" Each of us?" a slender, black-haired woman asked.

"Each of you," he affirmed.

"What color am I?" she asked.

"Light purple," he replied.

"Am I very bright?"

"Not any brighter than the others. Well, the Keeper's standing a little farther back than the rest of you, but she looks about the same," Tarrin replied, studying her and each of them in turn.

The woman's eyes seemed to widen. "What color is the Keeper?" she asked.

Tarrin turned to face her. "Green," he replied. "She's covered in green light."

That made the Keeper rock back on her heels. "Are you certain?" she asked quickly.

"Positive," he replied. "Red. Green. Blue. Yellow. Light purple. Darker purple. Orange," he recited, pointing at each of them in the circle. Then he squinted, studying them. "There's something connecting all of you together," he added as little fuzzy strings started to appear before his eyes. "Little ghost strings."

"And no one of us shines more brightly than the others?" a large, dark-skinned man asked.

"No," he said, putting a finger to his chin and studying each of them. "They all look the same to me."

"Even the Keeper?"

Tarrin looked at her. Now that they said something, she did seem a bit more distinct than the others. The color surrounding her wasn't quite as fuzzy, though she was no brighter than them. "She's not any brighter, but she is a bit, umm, well, a bit crisper," he struggled. "All of you are kind of fuzzy. She's not as fuzzy as everyone else. Maybe it's because she's standing farther away, I don't know."

"Goddess," one of them whispered, low enough so that only Tarrin would hear it.

The whispered word that escaped the Keeper's mouth caught his attention much more. She said only one thing, something that made no sense.

"Weavespinner!"

All the colors and the soundless chords suddenly vanished, leaving Tarrin's eyes a little dazzled. He blinked them several times and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. When he opened them again, he found the seven staring at him like he was a live snake. "The Test is concluded," the Keeper said in a voice that she was obviously trying to control. "You will speak not a word of what happened here this day, Tarrin. If you do, you will be punished in the most severe manner imaginable. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Keeper," he said in a calm voice. He already knew that speaking about the Test was forbidden.

"This day, you have demonstrated that you are one of the children of the Goddess. You are katzh-dashi . As per our laws, you will be taken into the Tower and given training in your gift. But before you are given that instruction, you will swear an oath. On one knee."

"What?" he said in sudden heat, heat that was totally feigned. He realized last night that if he didn't look surprised, they'd wonder if someone had secretly prepared him for this. "I won't bow my knee to anyone! Least of all you ," he grated, giving the Keeper an unholy, murderous look.

"You have no choice," the Keeper shot back in a cold voice. "It is demanded of all who enter the Initiate. And we make no exceptions, not even for you."

"I'm not subjecting myself to anyone," Tarrin retorted.

"Tarrin," she said in an exasperated voice, "you're not doing anything that isn't demanded of everyone else. The Oath is a way for us to be sure you'll complete your training, because not many will break an oath without really thinking it over first."

"What is this oath?" he asked in a less hostile voice.

"To obey the will of the Goddess so long as you stay on the grounds, follow the commands of your instructors and superiors, and do your very best in your learning. That's all."

Tarrin rose up to his full height, putting a finger to his chin and pretending to consider her words. The nameless goddess was right. They made sure the oath talked about him obeying the Goddess. Not the Tower. That was just as she said it would be worded. Of course, what the Keeper didn't say was that she would, at some time in the future when he got rebellious, point out that as Keeper she spoke the will of the Goddess. Neat little trap there. But Tarrin knew that if this goddess wanted his obedience, she'd do the commanding herself .

"Only so long as I stay in the Initiate?" he pressed.

"Only so long as you stay in the Initiate," she affirmed.

"And if I decide I don't want to be a Sorcerer?"

"Then you go your own way," she shrugged.

Which means that I can un-enroll myself whenever I feel like it, he thought with a calm look at her, trying to hide a grin. "Alright, but if you trick me, I'll hand you your guts one handful at a time," he said in a dangerous voice.

"I would expect no less," she said in a slightly sickened voice. "Kneel."

He did so, reluctantly. "Do you swear that you will obey the will of our Goddess, She Who Goes Unnamed, patroness of the katzh-dashi and Goddess of the Weave?"

"I swear," he said after feigning a few seconds of indecision.

"Do you swear to do your utmost to pass the Initiate, to come to the end of the training and say that you gave it your all in good faith?"

"I swear," he said immediately.

"Do you swear to obey the commands of your instructors, and the laws of the Tower, so long you remain bound to the order?"

"For so long as I remain in the Initiate, I so swear," he said flatly, giving the Keeper a deadly look.

"That's not enough."

"That's all you'll get," he said with a steely tone, standing up. Towering over the diminutive Keeper, he looked down at her with a blunt expression of mule-headed stubbornness. "If I decide to stay as a katzh-dashi , we'll have to renegotiate. Until then, take what I've given you and be happy with it, because I won't go a step farther. It's more than I'd have given anyone else," he told her adamantly.

"You push it," she said with hot eyes.

"You forget what you're dealing with," he replied in a calm voice. "I'm not a human. My nature is contrary to tying myself down in one place, and giving someone else control over me goes against just about every instinct I have. Be lucky I went as far as I did."