County Wycliffe

The punishment for Q and Cedric’s night of frivolity was an increase in their training intensity. Elara and Q’s grandparents introduced restrictions into their duels, obstacle course runs, and their overall training. Stripping them of their preferred tactics and removing from their arsenals, their instinctive reactions. Forcing them to adapt and avoid falling into common patterns. They would be assigned tasks, but the simplest or most direct methods to achieve the goal were prohibited. Stressing their creativity and inspiring new ways of using their Gifts.

“This is your fault. You know that, don’t you?” Q said from where he lay panting in the grass.

“Hey, if you had shown that girl a little of your own magic, that prick’s little flame wouldn’t have done anything for her.” Argued Cedric, mentally preparing for his turn on the obstacle course. It was on its tenth or twelfth version, as Henry made changes over the years. Increasing its difficulty as soon as he started to think the course had become too easy. Cedric’s current restriction limited him to shifting only his hands and feet to complete the course. Changing the skeletal structure, shape, and texture of his extremities allowed him to improve his ability to grab, hold, and in certain cases, land, but overall it resulted in a significant increase in difficulty due to the decrease in both speed and dexterity when compared to the capabilities he had in what he called, his battle form.

Peering at the clear blue sky above, Q replied. “If that is what would have won Vera over, I’m likely better off without her.”

What he’d hoped would turn into an unforgettable night had, in fact, become one. Just not in the way he would have liked. The consequences of their night at the tavern were farther reaching than he’d been prepared for.

“That’s true enough, but we were never really in trouble for that night. It just gave them a reason to push us. That, and they knew you would work harder if you felt guilty.” Cedric said with a grin. “I listened in on mother speaking with your grandparents. T hey are doing this to prepare us for the Academy. Now that we’ve been enrolled, they want us to be ready.” Cedric confessed before running onto the course.

Why does he always have to have the last word? Q wondered, before his thoughts drifted to the Academy. His stomach fluttered at the idea of leaving his family and being surrounded by other mages and nobles. He knew his grandparents were worried about his safety in the Capital, but Q only had one thought. The faster he completed his training and service to the realm, the sooner he could sever all ties with the Crown and its King.

*****

The Capital City of Gremelda

Six Months Later

Q watched with wide eyes as they rode through the inner city gates. It had been so long since he was last here that he had forgotten how overwhelming the Capital could be.

Gremelda unfolded in two distinct layers, divided by an imposing inner wall that soared above its surroundings. The outer city, a sprawling expanse of timber-framed houses, cobblestone streets, and modest markets that had built up around the inner wall over the centuries, creating a second city that encircled the inner ring. Smoke curled lazily from countless chimneys, mingling with the scents of freshly baked bread, horses, and the occasional waft of refuse from a nearby alley. Children darted through narrow lanes, and merchants shouted over the hum of daily life, their voices mingling with the rhythmic clatter of carts and hooves.

While lively and full of character, the outer city bore the marks of time and necessity—weather-worn shingles and uneven streets were cobbled together and only repaired or smoothed out by the Gifted on occasion or due to necessity. Here, norm life moved at a brisk pace, grounded in the day to day of an uncaring reality.

The inner city, protected by its towering stone wall and the magic within, was a world apart.

Rising above the chaos of the outer city, its polished grandeur glinted in the sunlight. Within this fortified enclave, the very air was different—cleaner, for a start. Every structure was a marvel of craftsmanship, carved or transmuted into stone, crystal, and adorned with gems to a level of excess only achievable through magic. Wide avenues paved with seamless stone made up the city’s infrastructure, connecting elegant plazas and buildings shaped into works of art that spoke of wealth, authority, and permanence. Towers spiraled skyward with impossible grace in the inner districts. Their surfaces were etched with intricate designs that showcased their family lineage, while the stone edifices in the merchant’s quarter advertised their wares, services, or family business.

Between the walls, the contrast was stark. The outer city, though alive with humanity and heart, seemed humble and coarse next to the refined and brilliant inner sanctum, as though its builders knew it would forever stand in the shadow of something greater. Yet the two halves formed a symbiotic whole—the inner city drawing goods, entertainment, and food from the outer populace, while the outer city thrived under the protection of the Gifted within the monumental walls.

Cedric, seated beside Q in their carriage, was currently playing the role of a country bumpkin, having never been to Gremelda before.

Side-eyeing his friend, Q asked, “Hey, how come you never came here with your parents? I always thought that was weird, with how many other cities you’ve been to.”

Cedric frowned slightly, struggling to pull his eyes away from the window, and from what Q suspected was a rather pleasing female form. Based on the way his eyes tracked whatever he was watching. Finally, he got around to answering, “You know, I’ve never actually asked. I’m pretty sure it is due to the way my mother is treated by most mages. They look down on her for only having access to Mental magic. The fact she is the best in the kingdom means little to those that just want to tear her down.”

Q suspected that his friend was right. It was unfortunate the way in which people judged others, but it was a fact of life that people generally compared themselves in various ways, and a select few would go out of their way to make sure that those beneath them, knew it. Shaking off the morose thoughts, Q did his best to enjoy the sights passing by through the carriage window.

Their families had explained to the two young men what to expect at the Academy, and Q’s grandfather, Ed, planned to meet them at the gates upon their arrival.

The Mage Academy was built on a small campus within the inner city. Each building meant for a specific purpose and use. Their briefing on the academy did n’t delve into the details of each building, but they did cover those that they would spend the majority of their time in. The main hall, library tower, elemental chambers, dueling arena or training yard, and the one they were the least excited to visit, the Infirmary.

Q could pick out the library, and the open-sided tower used for the air chamber, even from a distance. He may have wanted to complete his service to the kingdom as soon as he could, but even he had to admit to some level of excitement at the prospect of learning new magic and seeing how others thought to use theirs.

And this is the best place in the entire kingdom to do so, he thought.

Q climbed out of the carriage and peered up, and up, and up at the academy gates towering over him. The campus was walled for security, with armored guards manning the entrance, stationed periodically along the crystal-lit expanse.

True to his word, his grandfather, Ed, stood just outside the gates. His heavy, purple Council robes, giving him a distinguished air. And Q noticed, drawing nervous glances from the gate guards.

Standing beside him in grey robes was a young man Q did not recognize.

Stepping forward, he and his grandfather exchanged grips. It had only been a few months since they’d last seen each other, but Q was happy to have him there for support.

“It’s good to see you, son. I’m sorry to rush things along, but your registration set things into a bit of an uproar, and I’d like to get you settled before anyone knows you’re here.” Said Ed, when a cough from beside him interrupted them, making his grandfather wince.

“Ah, that’s right. My apologies, Mage Hastings.” With a wave of his hand, Ed indicated the grey-robed mage. “Boys, the academy requires you to be greeted by another student to guide you through your first month here. Mage Hastings has been assigned to you both for simplicity's sake.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

The young man stepped forward. Close to their own ages, but presumably a year older, judging by the fact, he was already a student and likely in his second year. The boy’s thick, curly auburn hair was long enough to touch his eyebrows, and flared out in all directions. His large brown eyes were warm and expressive. Reaching out a hand in introduction, he said. “In case you are unaware, we are told to set aside our noble titles and rank while we are in training. We are all considered students and are addressed as Mage. It is supposed to keep us from pulling rank on each other, or stars help them, an Instructor. Though… I’ll admit that it does still happen on occasion. Anyway, you two can just call me Ronan.”

Q grasped his forearm, giving it a light squeeze, and replied. “Well met, Ronan. I am Quinten, but you can call me Q, and this is Cedric. Thank you for being our guide.”

With introductions complete, Ronan escorted their small party through the gates with a wave at the guards. He took the group on a short tour. Walking across campus, Q saw three different colors of robes, white, grey, and black. He assumed the colors meant something and made a mental note to ask Ronan about it later. Q tried to focus on the young man as he explained where each of the elemental chambers were located, but the feeling of eyes watching him was starting to make him uncomfortable. It took him a moment to process what was setting him on edge, and when he finally nailed it down, he hesitated, bringing up the subject in his embarrassment.

Eventually, his unease won out, and Q leaned toward their guide, mumbling, “Ronan … Is all the staring normal?”

The young man, who had been actively pointing out the Infirmary, stopped speaking and let his hand drop to his side. Giving the surrounding area a good look and taking in the atmosphere, realization dawned.

With a snort, he said, “It’s the new students. Their robes tell you if it is their first or second year at the academy. White for first, grey for second, and black for an instructor or a graduate mage. You are likely one of the first gifted boys that any of these Ladies in white have ever seen, other than family. And, it is not uncommon for noble families to push their daughters to find a potential husband during their time here, a practice that has only grown more popular after the King’s Edicts.”

Q nodded his understanding. The logic made sense, but it didn’t really explain the—predatory glint some of their gazes carried. Before he could ask as a follow up, Cedric beat him to it. “Uh.. not to sound like a dandy, but are we safe here?”

The question forced a laugh out of Ronan until he realized Cedric was serious.

“Yes…” He said, raising a brow. “You’re safe enough here, at least while you’re on academy grounds. But… uh. Maybe don’t go off with any of them into the city alone? Let’s just say more than one young man has gone missing, only to show back up a week later—newly married, and not exactly happy about it.”

After planting that cheerful notion firmly in the minds of his two young charges, Ronan continued the tour. When they reached the end, excitement danced across their guide’s face as he clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly. “The next part is my favorite. Have either of you ever used a testing stone?”

Testing stones had been described to Q in the past, but this was his first opportunity to see one in person. The stone looked like a large round table with five concentric rings formed out of crystals embedded in the table’s surface. They appeared clear, but Q knew that depending on the person being tested, they would glow a specific color to match their Gifts.

Red for Elemental, purple for Mental, blue for Physical, green for Transmutation, and gold for Healing.

Each crystal represented a stellum—a unit used to measure a mage's power. For reasons still unknown, the total stellum within a mage increased significantly with each additional Gift, ranging from a fifty percent increase to a full doubling. A mage with a single Gift always measured at twenty stellum during testing, while someone with two Gifts could score anywhere from thirty to forty. This exponential growth in power continued with each additional Gift. It was theorized that a mage with all five Gifts could manage to score as low as 100, or potentially reach as high as 320 stellum. Though this had remained unproven, as no one had ever possessed all five.

The testing stone was built for the possibility, though. With the fifth ring closing its circle at 320 crystals. There were two large white orbs placed at the front of the table. It took Q a moment to realize that they were normal crystals, worn smooth over time from where past mages had held them during their testing.

Closing the door behind them, Ronan asked, “Who would like to go first?”

Raising a hand, Cedric said, “I will. I don’t expect there to be any surprises.”

With a wink at Q, he sniffed in his best impression of a snob and stepped forward. Keeping his upper lip stiff and his gait to match. He took hold of the crystals and channeled his Gift. Three of the table’s rings lit up, the first, purple, followed by blue and then green. It was easier for Q to count the crystals that were not glowing in the third row. Leaving ten dim, and meaning that Cedric came in at seventy stellum.

Sighing, Cedric theatrically let his head fall forward as if in despair, saying, “I was ready to max this thing out, just on my good looks alone.” Earning a grin from their guide, and a snort from Q.

Stepping aside, he bowed and swept his arm forward, presenting the table to Q. “The stone awaits to confirm your legacy, O future Archmage.” Joked Cedric in a sonorous voice.

Ignoring his friend’s antics, Q wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers and stepped forward. Placing his palms on the two crystals, he released his hold on the energy coursing through him.

When Cedric had used the stone, it lit the room with a pleasant glow. In comparison, Q’s Gifts turned the testing stone from a small flame into a bonfire. Lighting up the entire chamber and nearly blinding its occupants.

“Stars above,” Ronan rasped in a shaky voice. “I thought you were joking… I—I’m not even sure Archmage Highbridge is that powerful.” The second-year managed from behind Q.

In an attempt to downplay the stone’s results, Q’s grandfather cleared his throat. “As we suspected, you do not have the ability to heal, but that is a perfectly acceptable result, son.”

Their testing finished, Ronan turned on unsteady legs to exit the room, when Councilman Edmund took a strong grip on the young mage’s shoulder.

“You will not speak of this to anyone. Is that clear?”

Ronan shrunk back at the intensity coming off the older mage. “My lord, it is standard policy to report any testings of over 80 stellum to the Headmistress. At 150, he could very well be the strongest mage alive.”

Squeezing harder, Edmund leaned in. His quiet voice, and the calmness with which he spoke, highlighted the threat hidden beneath his words. “Archmage Highbridge is the strongest mage in the kingdom. There is a difference between power and ability, Mage Hastings, as you well know." Relaxing his grip, Ed continued. “It will do him no good, being made a spectacle. He will have enough difficulty already, being who he is. He needs time to learn and grow into his Gifts. Do you understand?”

Ronan met the man’s gaze, and could clearly see the depth of caring and concern within him as he simultaneously threatened and all but pleaded for Ronan to agree. “Of course, Councilman. I understand. I will not report this to the headmistress.”

Ed released his hold on the young man entirely. “Thank you. I will owe you and your family for your caution. If your silence ever becomes an issue, just say I told you to keep it secret by order of the Council of Mages.”

“Yes, Councilman Wycliffe.” Ronan said absentmindedly, meeting the hazel eyes of the young man with sun-kissed bronze hair, and couldn’t help wondering how interesting the next few years at the Academy would be.