Hunger satisfied and mind clear from the talk, Lebuin considered what to do next. He stood and stretched. He needed to do something while waiting for the council’s decision. He walked over to the window and looked out on the south street. Leaning against the sill, he drank from his still full glass of sharre and watched the people two stories below moving back and forth on the road. It was interesting to imagine what the people were like, what they did, and what they might be up to, although it wasn’t hard, as most were sailors, workers, or peasants.
Lebuin was about to go to his room when he noticed a rather graceful lady walking down the street past the Guild. What really caught his eye was the smooth flow of her calf-length cloak, with its rust-colored, fur-trimmed collar that matched the dusky, almost-black red cloth. The hood pulled over her head was of the same material, but lined with a dark gray fur, which set off the entire look. It was elegant, but functional. Safely out of her line of sight, he watched her moving past, enjoying the flow of her movements and the shifting of the garment. She wasn’t someone he had seen before, he was sure of that. The way she moved was unique, especially in the city of hard-walking, jostling dock workers and merchants.
As she was directly across the street from him, passing the narrow alley, someone hidden in the shadows grabbed her and threw her to the ground, out of the light. Lebuin yelped in surprise and stood up to get a better view. In the near-perfect darkness, he couldn’t see the assailant or the lady. Almost unconsciously, he invoked another long-practiced incantation to enhance night vision. His vision became far better than an owl’s and sharper than a hawk’s. Everything about the scene below became crisp and clear.
The lady was helpless, face down, four feet into the alley. The man attacking her was kneeling on her back with one knee, his other leg braced to hold her in place. He had her right arm twisted up and behind, being held by both his arm and knee. The attacker pulled a glass vial from a pouch and was concentrating on opening the stopper with his thumb and forefinger. Something else bothered Lebuin. His vision slid from the man’s cloak, which appeared to merge with the dark shadows on the pavement, making it impossible to tell where it stopped and the shadow began, even with his enhanced vision. That was no ordinary mugger or rapist.
Lebuin was preparing one of the few offensive incantations he knew when the unexpected happened. The lady bent herself backwards, practically in half, kicking the assailant off of her back. Lebuin was so shocked, all he could do was stand and stare with his mouth open like a fresh-faced school boy. Her attacker, caught off guard, landed in a heap, his cloak making half of his body seem to be missing, as if he was some kind of creature crawling out of the shadows.
Lebuin watched, dumbfounded, incantation forgotten, as the lady continued the back-folding motion over her head. She pushed off with her free hand, snapping over to end up standing in an attack posture, facing the villain. Her cloak spread out behind her from the motion like some silly romantic bard’s tale. The villain started to stand, the effect similar to a demon dragging itself into reality from the shadows. The lady, unfazed, took a step towards him and then jumped sideways, over him. In that move, she caught him in a neck hold, braced by her other arm, which must have been screaming in pain from the abuse it had endured. Her weight, motion, and hold did their job, breaking the man’s neck.
She stood over the body and then grabbed it by the boots and dragged it farther into the alley. Lebuin was still trying to come to grips with a brutal attack being turned on end by that amazing woman. She stripped him of a belt, a pouch, and even his boots, but she left the cloak. She then moved back to the alley entrance and glanced around. With no one looking, she stepped back onto the main street. She pulled her hood — soiled with alley grime — back up to cover her dirty, but elegant oval face and continued walking in the direction of the docks.
Lebuin watched her go and then looked back at the body in the alleyway to confirm what he’d just seen. There was a pouch still on the body, and it was smoking. Within seconds, the body was consumed in a strange green fire that didn’t burn up so much as in. A minute later, both fire and body were gone. All that remained was the cloak and a black charred spot on the alley floor in the shape of a body. The cloak lay partially in deeper shadows where it faded, becoming part of the shadows. If it wasn’t for the impossible shadow it caused, it would have been invisible.
Lebuin glanced around; he was still alone in his safe library nook. He reached up and unlatched the window. Swinging it open without a sound, he cast another incantation. He watched the street, picking a moment when no one was looking, and then reached his mind out to that cloak. With a perceptible reluctance, the shadows released their cousin and it flew to the open window. Once he had it in his hand, he let it dangle outside as he extended his incantation for dust and dirt repellence. Ashes, dirt, and slime fell to the ground below. Once it was clean, Lebuin pulled it inside and closed the window. In the library light, he could see it was a dark gray silk, with a hood. Lebuin looked it over closely and smiled. He even liked the color. Folding the cloak into a neat package, he started back towards his room.
I cannot believe what it must be like to live out in this city. People always out to one-up you if you let them. Pickpockets, thieves, muggers, rapists, and worse, prey on the innocent.
Shaking his head, he replayed the memory of the lady flipping backward.
From helpless victim to efficient killer in less time than it took for me to decide what incantation to use to help her. I am so glad I don’t have to live out there. I am too much the scholar to try to deal with those kinds of challenges.
On his way back, he met a well-dressed servant coming from the opposite direction. “Master Lebuin,” he said, stopping him.
He panicked like a child caught stealing biscuits. He clutched the cloak a little tighter. Get a hold of yourself. You’ve done nothing wrong, and this is just a Guild servant. He forced himself to relax, so his voice was only slightly more excited than normal. “Uh, yes, do you need something of me?”
“Yes, Master Lebuin. I am instructed to bring you to the council immediately.”
Thoughts of the incident in the alley were pushed away as he recalled that he was waiting for news on his Journeyman trial. “Oh, yes, of course. Let me drop this package off in my room, and I’ll go to their chamber.”
The man nodded and fell into step with him. “I could have someone take that for you.”
“We are only a few steps from my door. No reason to bother anyone with this.”
The servant followed him to his room and waited outside while he put the cloak into his armoire. Then, despite the fact that he knew where to go, the man led him through the corridors, to the main stairs, and down to the first floor. Instead of turning towards the council’s chamber, the man indicated he should follow him towards the main audience chamber. That could only mean one thing, and Lebuin stood a little taller as he walked behind.
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Lebuin smiled as they drew near. Before the great doors stood ten Magi in two rows, who watched as he approached. He scanned the Magi’s faces, recognizing almost everyone. Oddly, Cune was not there. A gong sounded, and the doors swung inward. The servant who had escorted him stepped forward. “I present Apprentice Lebuin of Llino.” He turned and made a sweeping gesture to Lebuin.
Lebuin looked into the large hall. It could hold two hundred people, and he was shocked to see it was full of other Magi and apprentices.
I really should have attended some of the other candidate trial ceremonies.
Laughing at himself inside, he managed to maintain a straight back and smiled wider.
You’d think in twenty years, I would have had time to go to at least one. But they sounded boring, and I always had three books, which were far more interesting, waiting in the library. From what Finnba said, all I have to do is follow their lead.
Unsure about what to do next, he was grateful when the man smiled and indicated he should walk in.
I know him from somewhere.
He rarely noticed servants; they came and went like ghosts. However, that one was about his height, wearing a well-fitting Guild uniform of traditional dark gray pants and a soft light gray button-down shirt with purple piping. On the front left and right chest corners of the shirt was the Guild sigil: a stylized dragon with the five waves behind it, embroidered in silver thread. He had light brown, almost golden eyes, and was a middle-aged Karakian. As Lebuin recalled, his name was Ditani, and he was the personal servant for Magus Gezu.
I haven’t seen him in the three years since Magus Gezu died. He cried at his funeral pyre. After that, he disappeared. I wish I could talk with him, but this is not the right place or time. I’ll have to find him after this is done, but right now, I have more important things to pay attention to.
Taking the cue, he walked down the middle of the chamber. He heard the Magi who had waited outside fall in behind him.
What are they all about?
Ahead, at the end of the aisle, were the five seats of the council set in a semi-circle on a raised dais. The council members stood before four of the seats. The fifth seat was always mysteriously empty. It had a large Guild sigil at the center of its backrest and was more of a throne.
I don’t think I should kneel; only foreign trade ambassadors have done that.
He stood tall and looked at the council members.
“Apprentice Lebuin,” Councilor Nillo said in his deep baritone, “we have reviewed the reports of all your trainers, your mentor, and the trial coordinators.” The councilor’s eyes locked onto his. “In all cases, you have been deemed ready and worthy of the badge of Journeyman to the Guild. The council has reviewed and inspected your works through the Journeyman trials and found your craftsmanship to be of a worthy level.” Breaking the eye contact, Lebuin could swear something more than ritual words and a hard stare had happened. Councilor Nillo looked around the room. “Do any Guild Magi have cause or concern with advancing Apprentice Lebuin to the rank of Journeyman?” When no one answered, Councilor Nillo gestured to his right. “Magus Cune, you were the final trial judge. Do you approve the advancement of this apprentice?”
What? The trial judge has direct approval of advancement? So that was his game. I should have guessed he wouldn’t stand by and let me advance.
A shuffling sound came from his left, and Lebuin looked over. Magus Cune stepped down from the platform where he had been standing and approached Lebuin. He stood shoulder to shoulder with him, facing the council.
Cune smiled and gave a slight bow to the council members. He then turned and faced Lebuin. “Council of the Guild, I wish only to publicly acknowledge Apprentice Lebuin’s achievements here, and I am pleased to report he is ready to hold the badge of Journeyman.”
There go my chances for another year. Lebuin sighed in acceptance of defeat.
“Apprentice Lebuin, you are found ready, worthy, and recommended for the badge of Journeyman. You will now deposit with the Guild a token of your own creation.”
Wait, what just happened? Lebuin’s thoughts raced in circles. Cune didn’t veto my advancement? But that means I am going to be a Journeyman. Why wouldn’t he stop it? Looking at Cune, he saw the same evil smirk the Magus had worn during the test. It was another instance of extreme pleasure for Cune at Lebuin’s expense. But Lebuin couldn’t figure out why.
Realizing the ceremony would be stopped until he produced a token, he pulled the ship out of his pocket and held it out. Two of the council members, Nillo and Crawstu, eyes crinkled seeing the artifact. It floated up from Lebuin’s hand and hovered between him and the council. Cune moved back to his position in the crowd as all four of the council members held up their right hands, and an aura of power enveloped the ship. It reached out then to all the assembled Magi. At last, it reached out for Lebuin. When it touched him, he felt it resting on his shields, which he dropped. It connected with his skin at the center of his torso. The energies filled his whole being. His vision shifted involuntarily to Magi sight, and his little ship was enveloped in a sphere of energies with tendrils floating out to all the Magi present and himself. One other, almost invisibly thin, went straight up. Glancing up, he noted that it went through the ceiling and beyond his ability to perceive.
Councilor Crawstu spoke first, her voice bouncing off the walls with a resonance Lebuin had not heard before. “Do you, Lebuin, voluntarily accept to abide by, support, and if necessary, enforce the Laws of Magic of the Guild of Argos Magi, from this day, until the end of your days?”
“Yes, I do,” Lebuin said. He felt a vibration in the magical connection through the token.
Councilor Dicha’s light tenor voice also vibrated off the walls. “Do you, Lebuin, voluntarily accept the duties, badge, and rank of Journeyman Mage of the Guild of Argos Magi?”
“Yes, I do,” Lebuin said as he felt another vibration.
Councilor Mica’s normally silky-soft voice practically shook Lebuin to the floor. “Do you, Lebuin, voluntarily accept the rule of Lord Argos and this, the Guild of Argos Magi, in the name of Lord Argos, from this day, until the end of your days?”
“Yes, I do.” That time, a part of his core was pulled from Lebuin and passed through the connection to each Magus. As it came back to him, a small fragment broke off and went up the tendril, through the ceiling. The remainder returned to Lebuin. He was shocked to have a feeling for where every Magus in the area was. It wasn’t like being able to see them, but more a general feeling that someone was close and a sense of their direction.
Councilor Nillo’s deep baritone almost rocked the foundation of the building. “In so accepting the Laws of Magic, the rule of the Guild, and the duties and rank of Journeyman Mage of the Guild of Argos Magi, you are so made Journeyman Mage of the Guild of Argos Magi.”
The connection swelled with power, and then all of the threads snapped into the small geode ship like a frog’s tongue. The ship and geode glowed briefly with a faint white radiance.
The Council Magi stepped down in turn, touching their right hand to the small ship, still floating in front of Lebuin. They then each touched Lebuin and offered congratulations or wise-sounding advice.
Councilor Nillo was last, and he plucked the ship from the air. “Congratulations, boy! You finally managed to get out of this place. You’d think after more than twenty years, you’d be stark raving mad. I look forward to hearing what you’re planning for your Journeyman quest. You can tell me in the morning. I expect you’ll be leaving tomorrow or the day after, at the latest.” He laughed and moved on as the procession of other Magi lined up to congratulate him.
Lebuin stood there, trying to recover from the final pull of whatever that incantation had been. It wasn’t until half the Magi had congratulated him that Nillo’s words sank in.
I have to leave on a quest by tomorrow! What quest? What was he talking about?
Lebuin wondered if he had misheard it, but then he realized many of the Magi congratulating him on the badge were also wishing him a safe journey.
Magus Cune grabbed his hand firmly with that smirk. He congratulated Lebuin, then leaned in close and whispered, “To make things more interesting, I placed a rather large bet with a less-than-upstanding, but influential friend of mine that you could complete the quest.” Then he turned, laughing, and walked away.
As the rest of the Magi and apprentices congratulated him, it occurred to him that he didn’t know a single Journeyman Mage who had ever stayed at the Guildhouse before being made a Magus. As he grasped the idea that he would have to go out into the world for something as yet unknown, Cune’s parting words registered.
Lords of Light, what just happened?