Chapter 13: A Time For Celebration
Landar
Days later, my family and I stood in the main chapel of the temple complex. The man in white robes officiated again, as my sister walked down the center aisle. Tomas, Elsbeth and I stood watching as a procession of dozens of children who were coming of age this month walked down with her.
Sixteen years old was the age of adulthood in this kingdom. It was strange to my modern sensibilities, but I knew my history. Back on Earth, when life expectancy was abysmally low, you were often considered an adult by about sixteen in most cultures. And society expected you to have children and a family shortly after.
I still didn’t think it was right, but I was just one person. It takes a long time, and a lot of education, before you can get things like that to change.
My back itched, and I reached to scratch it only to find my mother’s hand wrapped around my wrist. “Be respectful, Landar, and pay attention.”
I gritted my teeth and did as I was told. She was right. Tabitha had been an amazing older sister, and she deserved nothing but my respect and attention at these types of events in her life. And I didn’t want to give Elsbeth any more reason to be pissed off at me than she already had. I was on thin ice as it was.
Still, my skin hadn’t gotten used to the rough clothing yet, and itched like crazy. I squirmed, trying to ignore it. After a few minutes of desperate fighting to pay attention, I felt blissful release as my mother’s long fingernails scratched at the exact spot that was bothering me.
I’ll never know how mothers can do that, I thought as I fought to stay on my feet. My knees did their best to collapse under me at the sheer bliss of having an itch along my spine scratched.
“Now, pay attention,” she whispered, and I refocused.
Tabitha was resplendent in the gown she and my mother made. It was white, like her seventh day dress, with blue and green stripes in various patterns. Well made and cut to fit her.
But her dress was not the only one in the crowd of several dozen teenagers that stood out. The colors and designs were wildly different from person to person. A product of each being made largely at home, or by commission. Each was unique, though the care that went into them was plain to see.
Very little is factory standard around here, I thought as I happily observed the convocation up to the altar. Perhaps that’s something I can introduce to this world?
Standardization saved a lot of lives back on Earth, I knew. Providing medicine, clothing, food, and shelter cheaper and in greater quantities than ever before. Of course, it came with its downsides as well. But perhaps magic can help ease those issues?
The ceremony itself was pretty simple. Each of the teens walked up to the altar and placed their hands on it, while the white-robed priest said some prayer. A few seconds later, the priest would yell out their perceived foundation levels.
Tabitha wasn’t the first, but she was near the beginning of the procession. My family might not have been very wealthy, but the arch-duke highly valued service. So she had the honor of being near the start.
She walked up to the table and placed her hands flat on its surface. The priest placed his on top of hers like he had everyone else before.
“Physical foundation: Strong,” he proclaimed. “Mental foundation: Normal.” I felt a pang of annoyance at that. Perhaps it was my Earthly, and very American bias, but calling someone average intelligence in public seemed pretty rude.
“Spiritual foundation—” The priest hesitated for a moment. Then he let go and called the two black-robed priests forward. They touched my sister’s hands for a moment before letting go and conversing about the issue.
They sent a runner off, and a few minutes later Mother Margaret came waltzing in, her eyeglass to her eye as she glared balefully at everyone but the children. When she got to the altar, it didn’t take long for her to do her thing. A few minutes later, after the three men tried to convince her of something, she turned and shouted the outcome.
“Spiritual foundation: Perfect!”
The crowd gasped. It was a polite gasp, but it felt out of place. Mother Margaret bent down and whispered something in her ear as two clerics came and escorted us away as they had with the other families whose loved one had finished their ceremony.
But instead of going into the extensive garden area where they were holding a small party for the children and their families, we found ourselves back in that small, spartan room with the table, chairs, and bookshelves.
The clerics didn’t seem too bothered. They chatted happily with father, as mother fretted over Tabitha. The two talked quietly about what this all meant for her future, while I started looking over the shelves of books.
I was tall enough now to read the titles easily, and the scrolls were organized on each shelf by topic. With the topic listed on a small plaque under it.
Most of the reading material was to help with examinations of one type or another, but a few were clearly introduction education material. I found one titled “Introduction to Mana Manipulation for Clerics: Basic Calculations and Exercises” and pulled it off the shelf to leaf through it. It was a small book, maybe fifteen, twenty pages at most. It listed several exercises someone could do to learn the basics of the deliberate use of magic.
I opened the book to the first page and found two different exercises listed. The first was essentially meditation. But not the clear your mind and let the universe fill you, type meditation. More the European monastic meditation where you deeply contemplated a topic, event, or moral question. The book listed basic elements, like Fire, Water, Wood, Stone, or Wind. Things that a spell caster, or with faith spells the director of the prayer, would infuse or create with mana to produce some kind of effect.
The point was to become familiar with the element, or the concept. It suggested doing this on every page of the instruction manual for the specific element.
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So that must mean there is a Fire manual that discusses the nature of fire, I thought as I kept reading. The more the spell caster or prayer leader knew about the element, the easier it would be to manipulate that element using their and other people’s pooled mana.
Or with faith magic, the easier it would be to alter a prayer to a given cleric’s needs in an emergency.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but route prayers seemed to be common, so clerics who usually worked alone would need to be flexible in using them. That part made sense. But the specific jargon the book used made it difficult for me to do more than speculate about how they did it.
The second exercise was pushing mana through something called ‘mana channels’. This allowed a cleric to hit with almost inhuman levels of strength, or to imbue a ‘holy strike’ into a weapon efficiently, where the prayer-spells were directly integrated into something called ‘meridians’.
Another cleric ability listed was called ‘repelling unnatural spirits’. I suspected it was an ability or spell like Smite, and Turn Undead back in games and media on Earth. But I had grown to realize that while some of my knowledge transferred well, other times it did little but hindered my actual understanding of this new world.
I need to let go of my expectations and learn from zero.
Both exercises were entirely doable for me. I had already tried to touch my mana a few times with my mind, and found that it responded to my will. Though it did so sluggishly. I hadn’t tried to do anything with it, for fear I’d cook myself alive. But these exercises were designed for very early beginners and to be safe.
They were more mental exercises than real mana expressions.
I started to read the third exercise when Mother Margaret entered the room, followed by Sigvald and two more clerics of the gray priesthood. The clerics stood with scowling expressions beside the door, guarding the way their two superiors had come from.
“The Gaudhaus family,” Sigvald said, bowing slightly. “Why am I not surprised to find another exceptional child coming from your line?”
Tomas beamed happily, but Elsbeth’s expression held concern rather than pride. “Thank you, High Priest Sigvald,” my father and mother both said as they stood and bowed.
“A perfect foundation in any area is worthy of praise, and perhaps even elevation of station.” Sigvald motioned towards the chairs, inviting us all to sit. My family did, but I remained standing, holding the book in my hands. Sigvald caught me and smiled. “Would you like to join us, master Landar? Or is your scholarly reading more important than the future of your sister?”
He smirked as my mother and father rounded on me. I put the book back as quickly as I could before taking the empty chair.
“My apologies. I got carried away.”
Sigvald’s scowl turned into a slight smile as he sat with us at the table. Mother Margaret brought us tea from nowhere, and after we had all rested a bit, the high priest got to the point.
“Your daughter, much like your son, is remarkable. As I said, a perfect foundation in any one area would be grounds for social advancement and increased service to the city and the duke himself if you got lucky enough. Had it been a perfect physical foundation, you would have probably been asked to join the Knights as a trainee, perhaps in the ranger division where the recently raised often find opportunity to distinguish their service. Had it been in mental, you would have been asked, and probably provided a free spot in the dukes academy, where you would have learned magic, and the responsibilities of the low nobility.”
Sigvald took a sip of his tea, as if stalling. When he put the cup down, he sighed. “But she didn’t get one in physical, or mental. No, she was gifted a perfect foundation in spirit.” He said it as if he was disappointed. As if it were something unfortunate.
“What’s wrong with that?” my father asked the question on my mind.
“I believe your wife can tell you the reason for my reticence.” The high priest said, pointing towards Elsbeth. “As she experienced much the same choices until she met you, and received the Duke’s protection because of your guard service.”
Mother sighed a deep, bone weary sigh. “Yes, I think I can. Honey.” She grabbed my sister’s hand and held it with a sad smile on her face. “No one knows what creates or improves a spiritual foundation. But some people think it’s connected to lineage, that it’s passed on through bloodlines.”
“Exactly,” Sigvald interjected. “Therein lies the problem. Those who have powerful spiritual foundations are sought after, particularly by mages as mates. Either willingly or unwillingly. Concubines, slaves, wives, it matters little to those trying to breed powerful children.”
Tabitha’s eyes went wide as she realized what the priest was saying. Before she could speak her fear, my mother spoke. “But there are options, dear. Don’t you fear. The church has a place for anyone with such a foundation. And they have the means to protect you from such people.”
“Doesn’t the duke also want students with strong spiritual foundations?” My father asked, but the priest slowly shook his head.
“If she had a higher than normal mental foundation, she might have been able to earn a scholarship with the duke’s youth academy to learn to be a mage. But unfortunately such slots are few, and I doubt the duke will waste a spot on someone with only average academic potential. However, there are other options.”
“What are those?” Tabitha asked. Her voice was shaky, but she sounded strong for a teenager who had just discovered her entire life plan had been thrown out the window.
“There is the church. A life of service is not such a bad thing. But the church would also be willing to facilitate a wedding contract between you and a noble or sufficiently powerful magic user. There are mages who are interested in ensuring their children’s magical potential, who are good people.”
“I can understand that.” Tomas said. “You want to give your kids the best possible shot at having a better life than you did. Nothing wrong with that.”
Sigvald nodded. “Yes. Though most who take a keen interest in such things as bloodlines have other motives. We will help facilitate a search for one who would be acceptable as a match.”
“Those are her two options?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Become a nun, or marry some wizard who only wants her to have as many powerful kids as she can? Those seem like pretty stupid options.”
Tabitha’s face went beat red, and both mother and father shot me death glares.
Sigvald nodded. “It’s true. Neither is ideal unless you wanted to become a member of the clergy to begin with.”
“How long do I have to decide?” Tabitha asked. Her embarrassment fled as Sigvald talked. “Do I have to choose today?”
“No, you have a bit before you will be forced to choose. I’ll enroll you in the initial seminary here, so you can learn some basics of the church. Before you take any oaths, or join any of the priesthoods. The classes start in a few weeks, but it will buy you time and grant you protection in the interim. You will shadow Mother Margaret for the first week. The second week will be book study with one of the elder priests, and then the last week will be your week of service. While you are enrolled, you are under the church’s protection.”
“What about the other option?” Elsbeth asked. “Can her father and I work through potential matches?”
“Yes, I will assist with that directly. Come here at the end of every day, and I’ll have a list of potentials along with their terms. We can go over them and perhaps interview a few of the suitors.”
“What will we do with Landar?” Elsbeth asked. Calmer, now that a plan was laid out in front of us.
Mother Margaret let out an evil cackle. “I suspect he’ll be able to entertain himself here, in this room. With the books we have stored here. Right, boy?”
I felt my face burn, but I nodded eagerly. “I would enjoy that.”
The rest of the day, I felt like I was walking on air. Despite my sister’s predicament, having access to the library in that room, such as it was, meant I could help protect her sooner rather than later.
Despite the looming problem we faced, it was a day to celebrate for sure.