Chapter Four

Vincen

Over an hour had passed since Alba made her grand entrance and Prince Aarmond still had not arrived. The ceremony was supposed to be for family of the graduates only, but Vincen quickly realized that Mister Codina was not the only guest there who was not strictly family. Many of the nobility from the area around Savaria had managed to come on the thin pretense of some distant relation to either Vincen or Alba. The nobility was an ancient establishment, and their marriages were closely monitored. If someone looked long and hard enough, they could probably find a connection to any noble family in the Empire they wanted. Vincen found himself being congratulated by more proud aunts and uncles who he had never met before than he could count. Vincen had no illusions that they were actually there for him, he was not so important – yet. Tonight there would be two princes present and even if neither would ever inherit the crown no noble worth their title would miss an opportunity to get so close to royalty. Vincen shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned his attention back to the lady who was currently curtsying before him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” she said as she rose. This was Lady Aina - if he remembered what Kelso had hurriedly whispered to him as she approached - wife of Lord Augusti Romeu. Romeu was a second son to a minor lord, so they were probably looking to gain political connections of some sort. Vincen sighed again. The old joke was proving to be more and more true.

“Thank you, madam,” Vincen said. As the night progressed and he found himself being congratulated time and time again he had managed to compose a standard reply that took the focus off of him. “We are all proud to become mages tonight so that together we can serve the crown, for the good of the Empire.”

“For the good of the Empire,” Lady Aina repeated automatically. She drew in a sharp breath and hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Forgive me, my Lord, but – you are single-born are you not? Is it true that you can still use Skills? I thought those were only for twins?”

Vincen fought hard not to exchange looks with Kelso. This was not his first time having this particular conversation this evening. He decided to educate her a little. “I have only one Skill, it is true. Many twins have more than one and I even know one pair that have three each. While most single-born have no Skills but are instead gifted with exceptionally high intellect and the ability to use runes easily, it is not unheard of for a single-born to manifest a Skill – though it is rare enough to not be widely known outside our own community.” He paused for a moment, debating how to word what he really wanted to say. “We are all true twins, however, or else we would not be able to see shades.”

With that Lady Aina’s face twitched slightly and Vincen felt a small surge of satisfaction at her reaction. “Ah – ehem – yes. Shades,” she said nervously. “I had nearly forgotten about… those.” Her eyes darted around the hall. “Are… are there any here tonight?”

“There are a few,” Vincen said, trying hard not to let his smile show. “Some of our instructors have shades bound to them, and one graduating student as well.”

“Oh – yes,” said Lady Aina, her face turning slightly pale. “My husband, Lord Augusti, and I were deeply saddened when we learned about Lady Alba Lequette’s poor sister. Did you know the girl?”

“I do know Lady Ona,” he said, trying hard not to shake his head. Was she so poorly connected that she did not even know that they had been betrothed? “We are still good friends.”

“Truly?” Lady Aina asked, her voice raising a few octaves. “I -,” she paused and coughed slightly, “I trust she is well?”

“As well as can be expected, considering she is dead,” said Vincen.

“Yes… well… of course,” stammered Lady Aina. She desperately searched the crowd for a moment before focusing on someone in the distance. “Please do excuse me, my Lord,” she said, a bit too eagerly. “I believe my husband requires my presence.”

“Of course, madam,” Vincen said with a nod.

Lady Aina curtsied briefly then hurried off while Vincen and Kelso watched. “I do not understand people’s fear of shades,” Kelso said.

“Neither do I,” said Vincen, feeling a little bad about how he had responded to the lady’s ignorance. “Of course, we’ve been able to see them our entire lives. Here at the Academy, it’s easy to forget that most people can’t.”

“True, it still seems to me that they let superstition and folklore get in the way of common sense and scientific fact,” Kelso said, his voice flat and emotionless. “Shades are harmless.”

Vincen remembered his old nanny telling him that twins were touched by the Liar and that he had to be careful to say his catechism every night, lest he fall into damnation. His father had heard him reciting them one night and was furious when he told him what Nanny had said. The next morning his stepmother had been there when he woke up and he never saw Nanny again. “Well, the old legends persist for a reason, Kelso. We must remember that,” Vincen said. Kelso was about to reply when a trumpet call from the main entrance interrupted them. The string quartet stopped playing and the hall fell silent. Every set of eyes in the room turned towards the main doors. “He’s finally here,” said Vincen, excitement welling up inside him.

“So it would seem,” said Kelso. “We should return to your parents. They will be making their way to the front, I imagine.”

Without waiting for Vincen to respond, Kelso began walking toward the main doors. As Vincen hurried to catch up he saw the Lequettes making their way across the floor as well. Alba smiled softly at him, but Ona somehow managed not to notice him at all. He shook his head in frustration. He hadn’t been able to talk to Alba yet that night; mostly because of constant interruptions from his obscure relations, but partly because he was avoiding Ona. He didn’t want to risk having a fight with her until he understood what they were fighting about. He met up with his parents near the main doors. Mr. Codina was not with them. In fact, he had not seen the man since their meeting with the Lequettes. The Marquess and his family lined up beside them. Ona floated beside Alba, but on the side farthest from Vincen.

“Good, you’re here,” said Prince Andreu. He looked Vincen over as if checking his clothes for grass stains like he had when he was a boy. “Try not to disappear again,” he said when he didn’t find anything to criticize.

“I told you, dear,” said his stepmother before Vincen could respond. “Let him enjoy his last night with his friends. There will be time enough for business later. Besides, I’ve been told he has spent the entire evening forging connections with many different families.” She said the last part with a slight smile. Vincen had the feeling she was teasing him somewhat. And… had she been spying on him?

“Hmm, well. You do know how to greet the Prince? I hope they taught you that much at least.”

“They didn’t need to teach me that,” said Vincen. “I remember. Besides, he and I practically grew up together.”

“That was ten years ago, and you were little boys. None of that matters here. Tonight he is your Prince and your superior. No matter what he may say or do, remember that.”

“Yes, Father,” said Vincen sullenly. He had been excited to see Aarmond again after so long and being forced to remain formal and detached was not Vincen’s idea of a proper reunion, though he hated to admit that his father was right in this case. He already felt that many of the students thought he was better than them, no matter how hard he tried to convince them otherwise. If it became known that he was on friendly terms with Prince Aarmond he would never have any chance of proving them wrong.

The doors opened and a large man dressed in the uniform of the royal halberdiers stepped through and surveyed the room. Quiet gasps filled the air and Vincen realized that this was probably the first time many of the commoners gathered there had seen a halberdier in person. The guard looked splendid in his white uniform and shiny black boots. Instead of the rifle of a common guard, he carried a halberd that was taller than he was by at least a foot. Rifles were the weapons of non-twins or common mages. Every halberdier was by default a mage, and a mage who would need a crude weapon like a rifle had no business guarding the royal family. This halberdier’s hair was nearly pure white, as were his eyes, standing out in stark contrast against his black skin. His jacket was trimmed with gold embroidery around the waist and at the cuffs of his sleeves. Large epaulets fringed with golden cords adorned his shoulders and a braided golden rope ran from his left shoulder down across his chest to loop back around his waist. A golden badge depicting the twin’s mark was sewn onto his jacket over his left breast.

It seemed that no one was able to hold the halberdier’s gaze for long as his eyes moved from person to person. He would catch someone’s eye and, inevitably, within moments they would drop their gaze: commoner, noble, or mage alike. Even the shades had to turn away when he looked upon them. Vincen watched in fascination until the guard’s eyes caught his. Suddenly it was as if he had been hit in the chest by a massive weight. As he stared into those milky-white eyes he could feel the weight digging into him and moving around as if searching for something, and Vincen was sure that if he kept looking the halberdier would eventually uncover all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He desperately wanted to turn away, to break free from whatever influence the guard’s Skill had over him – for Vincen was certain there was a Skill at play here – but he didn’t want to back down either. Let him look, Vincen thought. Let him dig. I’ve got nothing to hide.

After what had to have been ages the Halberdier finally moved on. His parents had already turned their eyes away almost as soon as the guard entered the room. Alba looked down with a gasp as soon as he looked at her, and even Ona couldn’t match his gaze for long, though she lasted longer than most.

Six more halberdiers entered behind him as he continued to survey the room. Four of them took up positions on either side of the doors while two others stopped several feet into the room, creating a clear space as the crowd naturally backed away from them. The only people in the room who hadn’t reflexively backed away from the halberdiers were Vincen’s family and the Lequettes, even though they had lowered their gazes. The Academy staff had all stepped back several paces when they had come in.

When the head guard finished surveying the room and was seemingly satisfied he began barking orders and moving everyone into position. He had Vincen’s family line up to be greeted by the Prince first, then the Lequettes, and finally the Academy staff.

“His Royal Highness Prince Aarmond Canto of Albaron, Duke of Eledon and Keeper of Cailan’s Light,” the head guard called out as he tapped the end of his halberd against the floor. Vincen and all the others at the front instantly bowed or curtsied, the rest of the audience was a little slower to follow. Prince Aarmond stepped in, followed by several retainers and two more halberdiers who stayed close behind him. He was about Vincen’s height with a strong jaw and blond hair. His skin was pale, not white like his mother, Queen Zhulieta, but not quite as dark as King Oriol’s either. His suit was similar to Vincen’s except for a few medals pinned to the jacket and a set of epaulets even fancier than the head guards. He walked straight up to Andreu with a big smile and open arms.

“Uncle Andreu, please excuse Nahuel, he loves to make an entrance and Father insists I bring him whenever I travel. It's good to see you. How have you been?”

Prince Andreu rose, and with that everyone else did as well. “Your Royal Highness,” he said. “I am doing well. We are honored that you have graced us with your presence this evening. I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

“Yes, of course I came. I wouldn’t miss tonight for anything. And the trip was comfortable enough. Trains are so much better than carriages. I’m glad your territory at least has a decent rail line.” Aarmond turned to Caterina. “Lady Caterina, you are looking as splendid as always, I see. My father continues to curse the day he let you slip through his fingers.” He accepted her outstretched hand and kissed it.

“And you are as incorrigible as ever I see, Your Highness,” she replied with a smile and a curtsy. “You may remind your father that I did not slip through his fingers because he never had me in his grasp to begin with.”

Prince Aarmond nodded with a smile of his own. “I believe I shall let you be the one to tell him that, dear Lady,” he said and turned to Vincen with outstretched arms. “My dear cousin.”

Vincen smiled politely and resisted the urge to embrace the prince. Instead, he bowed and then extended his hand. Aarmond grasped it and gave him a strong and enthusiastic shake.

“Oh, but it is good to see you again,” Aarmond said. “How long has it been?”

“Nearly three years, my Prince,” replied Vincen. “It was your brother’s wedding, I believe.”

“Oh yes,” said Aarmond. “What a day that was. Remember the look on Domenic’s face when you made Galina’s veil levitate right in the middle of his vows?”

Vincen remembered all too well. He also remembered the punishment later, after they returned home. He had not been able to sit properly for the rest of the day. Aarmond, of course, had thought it was hilarious. “I’m sure I don’t remember that, Your Highness. Students aren’t allowed to use their Skills outside the Academy.”

“Of course, I must be mistaken,” Aarmond said with a wink. “In any case, I’m looking forward to a demonstration of these famous Skills of yours after the ceremony, yes?”

“As Your Highness commands,” Vincen said with another bow.

Aarmond smiled one more time then moved on to greet Marquess Lequette. Vincen sighed inwardly. Any hopes he’d had of keeping his friendship with Aarmond quiet had been instantly dashed, though he didn’t know why he had expected anything less. Aarmond had always been outgoing, friendly, and as informal as he could get away with. It was the reason he was so popular with the commoners, and why King Oriol had made him the public figurehead for the throne.

“Marquess Lequette, my dear friend,” said Aarmond.

“Your Royal Highness,” said the Marquess with a bow. “We are honored.”

“Nonsense,” Aarmond said with a wave. “Two of my favorite people are graduating tonight. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. The honor is mine.” He turned to Lady Marta and kissed her hand gently. “My good Lady,” he said, and his face became serious and surprisingly genuine. “My deepest condolences for your loss. Lady Ona was a dear friend of mine, and I grieve for her even to this day.”

Lady Marta smiled shakily and curtsied slightly. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out, then she turned away and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. Marquess Lequette put his hands around her shoulders.

“Thank you, Your Highness. It warms our hearts to know the Throne grieves with us,” he said. Aarmond nodded. He looked at Lady Marta for a moment longer with concern then turned to Alba.

“Lady Alba,” he said, kissing her hand. “It has been far too long since your beauty has graced my eyes. I believe it was also at Domenic’s wedding that we last saw each other? You are even more splendid now than you were then. Lord Vincen is a lucky man.”

Alba blushed and turned away slightly. “Your Highness seeks to flatter me,” she said so softly even Vincen could barely hear her.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“And it seems I have succeeded,” Prince Aarmond said with a smile. “Congratulations on graduating,” he continued. “It truly is an achievement to be proud of. It’s a shame that Lady Ona was denied the chance. You have my deepest sympathies. I assume she is here this evening?”

“Indeed, Your Highness,” said Alba. “She is next to me even now.”

Ona suddenly tensed up and curtsied to the Prince, even though he could not see her. One of his attendants who wore a mage’s badge stepped forward and whispered in Aarmond’s ear. He adjusted his stance slightly and fixed his gaze in Ona’s direction. It was a good attempt but it was still obvious to Vincen that he could not truly see her.

“My good Lady,” said Aarmond, somewhat awkwardly. By his side, his arm twitched slightly. Normally this would be when he took her hand and kissed it, but there was no hand for him to take. “The Throne, and indeed myself, grieve for you. Your sacrifice has not gone unnoticed. You have the gratitude of an Empire which is lessened by your absence.” With that, he surprised Vincen by bowing slightly to her. Ona floated backward a little with a shocked look on her face, then composed herself and curtsied deeply. Her insubstantial skirts flared out like a fog around her.

“Your Highness is too kind,” she said to Aarmond, his attendant repeating her words for his benefit. “I did no more than was asked of anyone else.” It was true, Vincen thought. She had done nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. “It was my honor to serve, for the good of the Empire.”

The echo from the crowd was muddled, as those who could hear her responded first, quickly followed by everyone else. Aarmond nodded when the response subsided then moved on to greet the Academy staff, who looked stiff-faced and terrified. They had all known that Vincen, Alba, and Ona knew the royal family personally, but he had the feeling that before tonight most had not truly understood just what that meant.

It took a long time for Aarmond to make his way down the line, and Vincen’s back was stiff and seizing up before the Prince finally sat down at his table and the audience was free to move to their places. The Academy’s headmaster, Lord Mage Oleguer, took his position at the head of the room near the Prince’s table while the graduating students lined up to one side according to their ranking. Vincen was first, of course, followed by Alba. They were the only two whose academic achievements had no bearing on their position in line. Alba had said nothing about their placement but Vincen had protested loudly. The Academy refused to budge, however, for fear of how it would be looked on by the nobility if they were to insult their two most prestigious students in such a manner. Vincen hated the fact that they were, in the end, probably right. He could imagine such a scandal being talked about for years to come, and the academy could ill-afford such publicity. The simple fact was that the vast majority of twins were common-born, and many of the nobility already felt the academy was afforded more honor than it deserved. There was a strong movement to have it turned over to military control since that was where most of the graduates were eventually sent.

Kelso took his place near the front of the line, behind only Alba’s attendant Marie. The two had been in a fierce but friendly academic competition for several years, with Marie only beating Kelso by a few points in the end. Kelso looked out of place, being the only other student besides Vincen and Alba not wearing his school robes. While attendance at the academy was compulsory for all twins, the tuition was still exceedingly high. The Empire had devised a program where it would cover a student’s expenses in exchange for mandatory service until the debt was paid. Nearly all of the students came from common families that could never dream of paying the fees, and so were forced to serve the Empire and turn most of their wages over to the Throne. Most of them would never repay their debt. The fact that Kelso was allowed to wear regular clothing showed that his way had been paid, though Vincen knew it came at a great cost to his family. Vincen’s family had easily covered his tuition, but even the Lequettes had struggled since they had to pay for both Alba and Ona.

The fact that Ona was not able to graduate despite all of that struck Vincen hard and he glanced down toward the Lequette’s table. Ona was hovering near her mother with an unreadable expression on her face as she watched her classmates line up. Her features blurred out of focus and the light from the gas lamps on the wall behind her flickered through her translucent body. He had to look away as a knot rose in his stomach that had nothing to do with the ceremony. He felt Alba’s hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll be okay, Vincen,” she whispered. He nodded, a lump in his throat preventing him from speaking. He wondered why the sight had disturbed him so suddenly. He had gotten used to Ona’s condition ages ago – or so he had thought. His vision blurred and he realized that his eyes had begun to tear up. He quickly wiped them with the back of his hand, earning a scowl from his father he was certain, and composed himself.

“Your Highness,” Lord Mage Olaguer began. “Lords and Ladies and honored guests, thank you for joining us this evening as we celebrate the Empire’s newest mages. These young men and women have worked hard over the last ten years, not only perfecting their unique individual Skills but also studying hard to achieve the highest level of education Albaron has to offer. It has not been an easy journey, and there have been some setbacks along the way. Not all who started this journey could maintain our high standards and were thus dismissed.” Vincen had asked once where the dismissed students were sent, since all twins were required to attend the Academy. He was told not to concern himself with such matters and study hard, lest he learn first-hand. Of course, this led to much speculation amongst the students, each theory more sinister than the last. Vincen and Kelso agreed between themselves that the failed students were most likely sent to join the rank-and-file soldiers of the army, where their lives were almost certain to be short and miserable.

“Others,” Lord Mage Olaguer continued, “were so dedicated to their duty that they gave everything they had to offer for the Albarian Empire. Lady Ona Lequette, who would have been graduating tonight, was one of those. She was a superb student, a talented mage, a loyal and well-loved friend to many, and most of all, a shining beacon of nobility. Her absence is, and shall always be, sorely felt. Let us honor her sacrifice with a few moments of silence.”

The audience had already been silent, but now it seemed their reverence overcame their solemnity as their sense of loss overwhelmed all else. Vincen stole another glance in Ona’s direction. Her mother’s head was bent and she had covered her face with a handkerchief while Marquess Lequette quietly comforted her. Ona looked supremely uncomfortable and Vincen felt a wave of anger wash through him, replacing the grief from earlier. Was this entire evening designed for the sole purpose of reminding Ona and her family of her untimely death? How was that fair to them?

“Those who are about to stand before you tonight represent the best of Albaron,” said Lord Mage Olaguer when the moment of respect was over. “They are strong of character and powerful in mind and body. Tonight they will be accepting their new assignments. Jobs have been specially selected for each mage that will make the best possible use of their unique abilities. They will make the Empire stronger, and in doing so make us all stronger.” The headmaster paused and looked out over the crowd as they began to clap. When the applause subsided he began again.

“The Honorable Lord Vincen Canto. Heir Apparent to Prince Andreu Canto, Duke of Savaria.”

Vincen stepped forward and received the rolled-up credentials that certified him as an official Mage of the King, as well as a gold medallion with the three-lined emblem of twins stamped into it. The Headmaster placed the medallion around his neck, he was now required to wear it at all times while in public. He clasped hands with Lord Mage Olaguer, a huge smile on his face, then turned to face the crowd. “I present to you the Honorable Lord Mage Vincen Canto,” said Lord Mage Olaguer. After a brief moment of applause, the headmaster continued. “The King has decided that the Honorable Lord Mage Canto will be taking up his assignment in the house of Prince Andreu Canto, where he will continue his training as the Prince’s heir; for the good of the Empire.”

“For the good of the Empire,” the assembly repeated. Vincen stepped away and stood off to the side. Of course, he had known what his assignment would be. All the graduates had learned their positions years ago so they would have time to prepare but there had never been any doubt about his assignment — it had been decided before he was born. He would get to continue his life of luxury while most of his classmates were sent off to the army, helping the Empire expand its borders. Many of them would not survive their first year. The thought wiped the smile from his face.

“The Honorable Lady Alba Lequette, daughter of Marquess Anton Lequette,” Lord Mage Olaguer called, and Alba stepped forward to receive her credentials. Female Mages were given a gold brooch rather than a medallion, which one of the female professors pinned to Alba’s dress. She curtsied to the Headmaster, then turned to the crowd. “I present to you the Honorable Lady Mage Alba Lequette.” The crowd applauded and Vincen could see her blushing. “The King has decided that the Honorable Lady Mage Lequette will be taking up her assignment in the house of Marquess Anton Lequette, where she will continue her training as a noble lady; for the good of the Empire.”

Alba curtsied as the audience echoed their response then stepped aside to join Vincen. The two shared a brief smile before turning their attention back to the proceedings.

Marie was called forward next. She was given a brooch that was a little smaller than Alba’s and was made of silver instead of gold. While all graduates of the Academy were called mages, single-borns with no Skills were designated as Mereologists and given silver emblems. Marie had been assigned as Alba’s attendant during their time at the Academy and when she achieved the highest academic ranking in the class she was given her choice of assignments that suited her abilities. She had chosen to remain with Alba and take on the role of her Lady’s Maid.

Kelso was also given a small silver medallion. Vincen was annoyed when he was given the title of ‘Mage Kelso D’ottavio,’ without the honorific ‘Lord,’ but he had known that would be the way of it and pushed down his anger. Kelso had been allowed to remain with Vincen as his valet at least, though that decision also had political implications. As the heir apparent to his family’s lands and titles in Marselle, the Throne wanted to keep Kelso close as both a means of supervising his actions and as security to ensure his father’s continued cooperation.

It took another hour for the rest of the class to receive their badges and assignments; most of the remaining male mages were sent to the army while the females were sent to serve noble or prominent common houses. Vincen noticed more than one sobbing mother in the audience as their children’s assignments were announced and he was reminded that this was not necessarily a happy night for everyone.

As the ceremony concluded and the new mages began congratulating each other and showing off their badges Vincen heard a voice call out. “Lord Mage Canto!” Vincen froze as the hall once again fell silent. He turned and bowed to Aarmond, who was still seated at his table.

“My Prince, how may I serve you?”

“I believe you promised me a demonstration?” Aarmond held his hands out, palm up, with expectation in his eyes. Vincen hoped no one heard him groan.

“Indeed I did, Your Highness. Pray, give me a few minutes to prepare.”

Aarmond nodded and waved. Vincen turned away and found Kelso right behind him. “What do you plan on doing, my Lord?” Kelso asked.

“The only thing I can think of. Go find Ferran and Miquel, they always help with this.”

Realization sparked in Kelso’s eyes. “Is this a good idea?”

“Probably not, but I can’t think of anything else that’s impressive enough. Go on, we shouldn’t keep the Prince waiting.” Kelso nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

“I don’t think your father will like this,” said Ona from behind him. Vincen jumped and spun around. She giggled. “It’s too easy tonight. I don’t even have to try.”

“Look – Ona,” Vincen said, a bit hesitantly. “I’m sorry I tried to hold your hand earlier. It was stupid.”

She blinked at him for a moment. “You think that’s what I’m mad about?”

“Isn’t it?”

She shook her head and sighed. “You’re hopeless,” then flew off over the crowd again.

Vincen watched her go while shaking his head. He had meant to ask her to see if Alba would be willing to do her usual part in the demonstration as well. Why did girls have to be so mysterious? If she would just tell him what was wrong then he could fix it.

Kelso returned a moment later with two boys following close behind. They were thin and a little shorter than Vincen or Kelso, with sandy brown hair. They bowed as they approached and Vincen cringed slightly. No one had bowed to him during his school days, especially not friends like Ferran and Miquel. He wanted to tell them not to, but there were too many eyes on him tonight.

He nodded quickly and the boys stood up. “Did Kelso explain to you what I need?”

Ferran and Miquel looked at each other. “We don’t think this is a good idea, Lord Vincen,” said Ferran.

“Come on,” said Vincen. “We’ve done this hundreds of times. There’s no danger.”

“Yes…” said Miquel.

“…But it’s the Prince,” Ferran continued.

“Is it wise to do something like this in front of him?” said Miquel.

“Those guards creep us out,” said Ferran.

“Especially the big one,” said Miquel. They both shuddered.

“Alba never misses, and neither do I. Besides, the Prince is my cousin. It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

Ferran and Miquel looked at each other again, then began making their way to the front of the hall. They could read each other’s minds as if they were their own. This made for some interesting conversations at times, as it wasn’t always clear whose thoughts were coming from which mouth. It was not uncommon for one of them to refer to something that had happened to the other as if the experience had been his own. Sometimes they even got their own names mixed up, which didn’t often matter since they rarely referred to themselves in the singular anyways. Vincen wasn’t sure what they were thinking right now, but he could see their nervousness plainly.

“So Alba agreed then?” Kelso whispered.

“I haven’t asked her yet,” Vincen mumbled as he began making his way to the front.

Kelso blinked, then followed. “This will be interesting,” Vincen heard him say.

At the front of the hall, the headmaster ordered the staff to help Kelso clear a spot large enough for Vincen’s purposes. Vincen watched, irritated that he was not allowed to help, even though he could do it all with his Skill without even lifting a finger. By this point they had attracted enough attention that almost everyone was watching them, including his parents. His father wore a large frown. Vincen took a deep breath and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. The Prince had ordered this. He had no choice.

“Your Highness,” he said when the space was ready. He was addressing Aarmond while actually speaking to the audience that had gathered. The crowd fell quiet, only a few whispered conversations continued here and there. Vincen could see Alba and her parents near the front. Ona was whispering in Alba’s ear and a look of shock came over her face. She looked at Vincen and shook her head at him. He nodded ever so slightly and her lips tightened.

“Lords and Ladies,” he continued, feeling much less confident all of a sudden. “Honored guests. Please allow me to present you with a small demonstration of what a few of us have learned thanks to the fine instruction we have received over the years. Without the Mage’s Academy and the excellent guidance of our professors, none of this would have been possible. Our gratitude to the Throne is boundless.” He bowed again to the Prince, who returned it with a satisfied nod.

Vincen caught Kelso’s eye and nodded. Kelso walked calmly up to the wall which was about twenty paces away and stood facing Vincen.

“Your Highness, would you be so kind as to allow me to borrow the apples from your table?”

Aarmond waved his consent and an attendant moved to grab the bowl.

“Thank you, your Highness. Please, allow me,” said Vincen. With hardly even a thought the bowl rose from the table and floated over to where he stood. A familiar wave of euphoria washed over him as he activated his Skill. His nerves disappeared. He was in his element now, doing what he had been born to do. He was being a mage.

He left the bowl floating in front of him as he made one of the apples rise from it and float over to Kelso, where it came to rest on top of his head. A small murmur rose from the crowd. Many of the commoners had most likely never seen a mage at work before, and telekinesis was one of the less common Skills.

Aarmond was leaning forward watching with great interest. Three years had passed since he had last seen Vincen’s Skill at work, and Vincen was eager to show him how much he had improved in that time. One of the students brought him a quiver of arrows and Nahuel stiffened, but Aarmond waved him back and nodded for Vincen to continue. Vincen nodded back and caught Nahuel’s eyes slightly, the weight pressed down hard on him for a moment. He shook off the guard’s glare and focused on his task.

He set the quiver down beside him, making it stand on end when it should have fallen over, and brought one arrow out to float beside his head. He let it stay there for a moment so the audience could see that it was pointing at Kelso before he let it fly. An instant later it had pierced the apple cleanly and stuck in the wall behind him. The headmaster cringed slightly, and Vincen felt a little bad about damaging the wall. Especially since he was only just getting started.

As the audience applauded, Ferran and Miquell walked down and stood on either side of Kelso. Their shorter stature was plain to see and would make the shot even trickier. Vincen took three more apples from the bowl and replaced Kelso’s while setting an apple each on top of Ferran and Miquell’s heads as well. Three more arrows rose and paused next to Vincen’s head for a moment. He doubted much of anyone in the audience would notice but he aimed all three arrows at Ferran and Miquel’s apples. He let the arrows fly down the room, adjusting the angle of Kelso’s arrow as it flew, and pierced the apples once more. To their credit, Ferran and Miquell did not so much as flinch despite their nervousness about performing before the Prince.

Next Vincen made the entire bowl float down to Kelso, who took the remaining apples and divided them between himself and the twins. With a nod from Vincen, he tossed an apple into the air. At the speed of thought, an arrow whipped from the quiver and impaled the apple mid-flight, sticking to the back wall high above them. Before the audience could clap, however, Ferran had already tossed another apple which Vincen also cleanly hit. Next, Miquell tossed two apples at once and again Vincen pierced them with barely a thought. Kelso threw three apples, two went high over his head but the third went low and to Vincen’s left. Vincen grinned as the euphoria from constantly using his Skill increased, now it was getting a little more challenging, but he still had no trouble hitting each apple. All three boys threw their last remaining apples at the same time. All but one went high and Vincen cleanly pierced each one. One apple flew directly towards his head, however, and this one he did not hit. Instead, he stopped it just inches from his face. Someone from the crowd gasped and he smiled to himself. He grabbed the apple from the air and took a large bite from it as the audience applauded.

Vincen was feeling good, the euphoria was still in full effect, and it was time for the finale. He looked toward Alba with a grin. She did not look amused and shook her head again. He smiled wider and nodded. She huffed and set her lips even tighter. Vincen took another bite from the apple, still grinning. He silenced the crowd with a gesture. He took a deep breath and decided to go ahead and do the next part despite Alba’s protests. She never liked being the center of attention – that had always been Ona’s place – but Vincen felt that so much focus had been on Ona tonight that Alba deserved a bit of recognition as well. He took the remaining arrows from the quiver and arranged them in a ring around his body, pointing outward in every direction.

A gasp arose from the crowd and every single guard tensed up instantly. The air thickened noticeably around him and his vision blurred for a moment. He had a brief thought that maybe the others had been right and this wasn’t such a good idea after all, but it was too late to back down now. He let the arrows fly and several things happened at once. Alba vanished with a loud crack that made nearly everyone in the room jump. The arrows all disappeared and Vincen felt something cold and sharp pressing against his throat. He gasped in pain as his arm was roughly pulled behind his back by the strong hand of a halberdier. Two more of the halberdiers stood between Kelso, Ferran, Miquell, and the Prince with their halberds pointing at the boys. Two others had taken up places directly in front of Prince Aarmond, who had a look of surprise on his face. Alba had appeared next to the Prince and cried out in shock as one of the halberdiers wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from moving any further. She held all but one of the arrows that Vincen had let fly. Nahuel held the one that had flown towards Aarmond, even though he had been standing two paces behind the Prince only a moment earlier. Nahuel snapped the arrow like a twig.

“That,” he said, “was very stupid, boy.”