THE WIZARD'S APPRENTICE

The color of magic was what started it all. I was only a boy of three, so I did not know that it was the year 381 Regus Cani, the 381st year in the reign of King Canilus the Eternal. Not that I knew that either, nor did I know that it was the year that would come to be known as 'The Red Death'. I did not know that half the world was ablaze and the half that wasn't was quickly dying. As a boy of three I watched with my parents as the wizard Belmont of Archille razed the slums of Mardain with wizard's fire. That the plague was the reason, I was too young at the time to know.

I did understand that I couldn't go home again, and that my bed and my toys and everythng else I knew were being burned. I cried a little, but the flames were so pretty, I stopped and laughed with joy. That evening, once the fires had begun to die down, those who had fled Mardain were examined by members of the Healer's House to make sure that no trace of the plague was leaving Mardain with us. I only knew that I was made to miss my supper again and then let an old woman examine me. By this time I was once again missing my bed and my 'klop', a sagging bag of scrap wool with a face painted on it that had been my bedtime companion. I said so out loud to the old woman, perhaps in hopes that she would give it back to me. "Klop," I cried. The old woman raised an eye my mother's direction. "A favorite toy, burned in the fires," she explained. "sorry boy, all gone in the flames," she said to me, pointing back at the slums. The flames of the burning city were barely more than a smolder at this point, but the wizard's fire still worked back and forth across it. With the sun going down and the fires turning to ash, the wizard's fire stood out in my eyes, flickering with its signature ripples of purple and dark, dark red. "Pretty," I said. Dad laughed and mom patted my arm, but the woman leaned in. "What's pretty, boy?" "The colors," I answered. "What colors do you see?" she asked, then to my mom - Does he know his colors?" "Oh very well, yes!" mom answered proudly. "He's a smart boy!" I smiled at that, knowing it was good to be a smart boy. "What colors do you see boy?" the old woman asked again. "Purple an' red." The old woman looked past me at my parents then, sitting up straight. "Has he been tested?" "No your grace," mom answered. "The likes of us weren't allowed through the gates to the upper city." "There should be yearly patrols that offer testing," she told them. "We been here five years yer grace," dad spoke from behind mom. "We ain't never seen a patrol of any sort." Dad was from Cadwallan, and they spoke funny there, I'd heard mom say. Apparently the woman thought so as well, as she frowned at his words. "How old is he?" "Three your grace," mom answered. "He's big for his age and he needs to be tested. Here," she handed dad something. Several somethings, as he scrambled to keep them from slipping out of his hands. "Take these tokens to the green and white striped tent that lies on the road beyond that hill." she pointed a direction and mom and dad both looked in that direction for a moment. "They'll give you a meal and this," She handed dad something she'd scribbled on a piece of parchment. "This will tell the people in charge there that the boy is to be tested." So we went, with those things we'd been given; those things which were the only things we took away from Mardain except our lives, and we went to the green and white tent. We ate a lamb and carrot stew that was the best food I remembered ever having, though I cannot say today that I remember any meal I'd ever eaten before it. Dad gave the note to a man in a long green robe, who looked at it, and then at me, and then at my dad again. "Very well. Come with me boy," The man in the robe said, reaching for my hand. I pulled back behind my dad's leg. Dad reached back and grabbed me by the back of my tunic and pulled me back around in front of him. "Its okay Pac, you go with this man and let him have a look at you." "Pac?" "Pacasin," Dad answered with my full name. "Named for my wife's uncle." "All right then, come along Pac," The man said, motioning for me to take his hand. I took it then, looking up at my dad for reassurance. He was nodding and smiling at me as we took our first few steps away. My steps were apparently too small for the man in the robe, as he reached down suddenly and swept me up in his arms, and began to walk away with me suspended from one big arm like a sack of potatoes. I cried as I lost sight of mom and dad, but the man's grip did not ease. We walked for a while until we came to another tent, this one green and purple. I wasn't ever to see either of them again. -oOo- Warmuth Bridge was three deep in soldiers when we arrived. The fields on the Montcross side of the river were littered with tents and horse pickets, and alongside the river I could see multiple rows of mangonels and catapults, each with piles of stone, shot and chains. The road to the inner keep cleared miraculously as we rode up it. Odd how the emerald green leathers of a wizard cause that to happen, isn't it? The inner keep itself was surrounded by a wide plaza. The expanse of open paving would make life difficult for invaders trying to storm this final redoubt. "Wards?" my master asked me, nodding towards the keeps walls. His words drew my eyes up and I could see the light of the wards now with my wizard sight. From our current position I could see three of the inner keep's five walls, and the tower where each wall met shone with the light of magical wards swirling deep within their stones. Now that I was seeing the light, I could feel its power spread throughout the walls. Strong walls and strong magic made a strong keep; this my lessons had taught me, and here was living proof. I nodded, acknowledging my master's instruction. "Whose?" I regarded the wards, letting my wizard's senses take more of my sight than I might normally allow while moving on horseback. The designs within the stones of the nearest tower flared to life and I saw the sharp, angular figures that superimposed themselves over them. The figures themselves were familiar - a ward is a ward after all, and the core of this work was the most basic, sturdiest, most durable and enduring of wards. I saw a particular ward, and an accompanying rune meant to strengthen it and thought I knew who was known for their pairing. I looked for the dragon sigil that would finish it and found it coiling near the base.

Aragoth of Elkwood." I answered, trying to sound surer than I was. I could think of no one who would better suit what I saw, but Ethric was fond of springing the unknown on me when I least expected it. I let the rest of my senses touch the wards as I answered, getting a feel for the magic of them. I'd had a chance to feel a few of Aragoth's workings before, and this 'tasted' like those things of his I already knew. Cleaner though, less convoluted, purer. "Probably from before the Cicasian turmoil." I added. "Good," was my reward, but quickly dampened. "Pull yourself in a little Pac.

Don't give Tynis a reason to be any more agitated than he is." I reigned my wizard senses back within myself and watched the tower stones return to their earlier subdued glow. "Once we enter the inner keep, leave the talking to me," Ethric spoke softly as we approached the gate. We'd been over these things several times already, but here was his last chance to strengthen my chances of avoiding embarrassment, or worse, so he said again the things I already knew. "If you are asked a direct question, you may answer, but you will look to me for confirmation first, understand?" I nodded. "Tynis will try and quarter you with the troops or the servants, but do not protest it, leave that to me. He knows as well as I do that you are neither bodyguard or servant, but he will try to score some points in the eternal stupid game the royals play. I will not have you used for such trivial pursuits, do you hear?" I nodded. I nodded a lot during those times when Ethric found his tongue. He was normally a man of few words, and would seldom use two words when one would do, but he often found his tongue when it came to moments of instruction for me. "If Tynis tries to get you onto the sands with one of his soldiers, accept. You're a match for anyone in his guard and it would serve us well that he learns that. If he matches you with Stannis though, take care. That man is deadly and if Tynis says kill he will not hesitate. You cannot defeat Stannis without using magic, so don't try. All you need do is survive long enough to make his intention clear and then I will step in." I nodded again, accompanied by a grimace this time. I had spent a good deal of time studying the disciplines of war while under Ethric's tutelage. I knew the sword and dagger well, and was a fair hand with a bow and crossbow. Still, I was no seasoned soldier, and while I was more than tall enough, I didn't have the bulk most warriors did. I also had no real experience on the field of battle. At fifteen, most warriors my age would have seen some true conflict. Gaen was a world at war, and had been for all my years, it seemed. "and if none of these things come to pass?" Ethric asked, interrupting my train of thought. "Then we go gladly to our rooms, eat heartily, sleep soundly and wonder at how serious the situation must be," I parroted back what I'd already been told. "Halt!" the cry came from a guard at the gate, even as we were drawing to a stop in front of him. "Who goes there?" "Ethric of the Vale," my master answered, adding. "and apprentice." The guard's eyes flickered down for a moment, and I assumed they had a simple truth stone there and he had just checked Ethric's answer with it. The stones were no real barrier to a wizard. Even I knew enough to lie my way past one undetected, but they served their purpose well in scrying for the honest intent of common men. "Yes my lord, we've been expecting your arrival. Let me summon you an escort." Ethric nodded his agreement and then in almost the same motion nodded again towards the gate itself as the guard turned to make his summons. "Tell me about the gate. What do your senses see?" I opened my wizard's sense a little once again and regarded the posts and lintel that formed it. A section of ornately carved marble seemed inset into the plainer stone of the lintel and matching carved marble insets decorated the posts on each side. I let my senses pour into it and saw the clever way in which the truth of it was disguised.

The entire gate is made of Caprician marble. The carvings are very fine runework and the entire thing has been charged with quite a bit of magic. The plain stone are facings only, meant to give the door a plainer, less secure appearance." "Good. What else?" I studied the entry again, letting my senses linger a little more than I had previously. Something about the runework did leave me wondering, but I wasn't sure what it might be. "There's something about the runework, but I'm not sure what. Parts of it seem fuzzier, less distinct than the rest.

Perhaps there's some rare earth mixed into the stone of the facing?" "You're almost right, but not quite. There is rare earth involved but it has been painted onto the back of the facing, and is intended to disguise the true nature of the runes themselves by overlaying false runic elements over the actual ones. How might you detect this and see the actual work for what it is?" I thought about that. As I did the gatekeeper returned with two men on foot and a stable boy. "Lord Ethric, this is Davus, Captain of the guard and his second, Thomalt. They shall escort you to the king," We dismounted and followed the horses as the stable hand led them through the gate and into the keep itself. Captain Davus asked about our journey and the weather, and Ethric answered brusquely, as is his style. I continued to think on what he had asked me when it occurred to me I did know the answer. "I would have to prepare myself to work on them," I said to his shoulder as we walked. "On what?" "The runes at the gate. If I prepared to work on the runes themselves, to strengthen or modify them, I would be able to see them deeply enough to tell the real from the false." "Very good, and what would be the disadvantage in that?" "Well, the preparations would be fairly extensive, to work on something so powerful. Wards would have to be laid, and purification rites completed. It would be best to have your tools laid out before you within easy reach. It would require a good deal of time and care." "So someone being harried toward the gate by forces at the rear?" "Would not have time to look that closely. The gate is not just a defense, its a trap!" I said it aloud as I realized it. "Very good," Ethric nodded. I seldom got a 'very' from him unless it was accompanied by something negative, so I had to struggle to keep from looking pleased. The guardsmen with us gave each other looks, but most of that was probably in regard to the strangeness of wizards, not so much about what had just been said. With Captain Davus at our side, we swept past three sets of guards as we made our way up three floors and along a pair of busy hallways. We proceeded without opposition until we stood before a closed door guarded by two somber and beefy soldiers. A desk sat beside the door and a large man with pale skin and a graying, tangled mustache sat at the desk. "Ethric of the Vale, and apprentice," the captain spoke. The large man gave a token glance at the papers on his desk before nodding to the guards at the door. They pulled the door open and again in the captain's wake, we entered. Two men stood at the far end, one in royal red and white and the other in wizard's green. "your highness," Ethric bowed his head more than the several inches he gave most royalty. I followed suit, but actually bent my head low. "Ah Ethric!" The king came forward and clasped my master's hand. I could only see the back of his head but knew he had to be frowning at the contact. He did not like to be touched. "Here we are again, mustering at the border, eh? Just like old times." "Indeed," Ethric answered. "He's still the insufferable windbag, eh Jager?" "Indeed, your majesty," the wizard behind him answered. "and still trailing nameless apprentices, I see." "You managed to get my last one killed, Jager, and while he was saving your life. You should be a little more appreciative of my apprentices." "His act was unselfish, I grant you that, Ethric, but he was an insensitive, unimaginative pretender to power, and you knew it when you left him on that wall with me." "I left him with you in hopes that you would keep him safe. Imagine my surprise when it turned out that the reverse was true." "Come Ethric, you remember what it was like on that wall. It was sheer power that kept me from the same fate. Any man with me then would have suffered the same fate." "Possibly," Ethric muttered. The king, whose face I could see, raised an eyebrow in my master's direction. "Probably," He said with a snort. "I never doubted the way of it, but you never seem to give my apprentices the credit they deserve, and so you pull me into this same argument every time." "And that man received the same honor that all the fallen did, no more, no less. "True enough, my lord," Ethric agreed. "And as you say, here we are again, and once again more men will die before these walls so that we may honor them." "Magic loves threes and fours, as all know," Jager answered. "and here we are twelve years after the Red Death and a foreign king desires King Tynis' silver once again. Three fours gone is the Red Death and four three's building is this war, for this shall not be just another border skirmish." "No, I see it too, and so I have come again to defend my King and my home," Ethric actually bowed to the king this time, the first time I'd ever seen him give anyone so much of their due. I followed suit, knowing that any respect my master felt he owed, I would owe double. "So, come have some wine and tell us of the Vale. Are things well there?" "The Vale prospers, and the people there have grown beyond the losses the plague left us all with. The houses and fields are full of children who do not remember the Death, and do not have the pain hidden in the back of their eyes." "Good, that is happening across Montcross as well, and across all of Gaen, if what we hear of it is true." The king himself poured our wine, and I was about to grab my master's cup before him, but he stayed my hand. "There are few hands I trust completely, Pac, but this is one of them. Even Jager's. Do not fear these men would poison me. Trick me, perhaps. Play games with me, bind me deeper into their debt for sure, but never would they threaten my safety." I nodded and moved my hand to reach for my own cup instead.