The four mages of the council of the Covenant of Tears sat around the scrying mirror. Each lent some power as they used it to look through, to investigate those that lived within the demesne that made up their cloister, that provided the mundane manpower that kept them fed and clothed, protected them and created the façade for the rest of the world that all was normal within. They cast their eyes over all from the lowliest shepherds, to those busy in the fields, to the lowliest maid leant over her sewing or scrubbing dishes. They looked on at the guards on patrol or standing watch as well as those resting or training in the area outside the barracks. Their attention changed and it flew inside to the castellan standing by the Baron’s side as food and drink were brought for him and his family.
Between the mages a thought was shared, no one new could be identified, none here were ready for ascension, nothing had changed. Their focus changed; went to the one place they had not viewed before. The smithy. The view of the mirror showed the inside, a large man, his arms muscled from spending hours swinging a heavy hammer was busy making a horseshoe. Behind, working the bellows, was a boy, his arms and chest already showing the muscles of a smith. As the smith stopped hammering, he put aside horseshoe he had just completed, leaving it to cool. It was ready to be softened and quenched once shaped to the horse it would fit. He spoke to the boy as he started tidying away the tools, the words audible to those who watched.
“So, Martin, tomorrow you are sixteen and time for your choice. You going to stay here, taking the journeyman’s test and oath or you going to leave and find another master?”
Martin looked at his Master, grinning, “Master, you need to ask the question? Plus, Jenny would be very upset if I left now!”
The smith chuckled to himself while thinking, ‘Never underestimate the hormones of a teenager!’ He could understand Martin’s fascination with the girl, she was definitely the beauty of the village. Too low born for the attention of those in the castle except for an occasional dalliance, and her head was in the right place to avoid that! An apprentice smith like Martin, about to become a journeyman, would be a fine catch. Not that Martin was hard on the eyes, and he had a physique that would appeal. Hours spent at the forge perfecting his skills had not been in vain and left him with muscle that few his age could boast of.
The mages sent a thought of ascent between them. The boy had talent, one that could be nurtured. Tomorrow he would have a third choice he did not know of yet, though they would watch and wait for him to complete his journeyman exam. Ascension was rare, and the hope that soon they would have a fifth was already on them. That the fifth could be something new and unusual was an even greater hope.
***
The dawning of the day found Martin already up. Excitement at the thought of becoming a journeyman was on him. Master John had been far kinder than most. Unlike many who took everything their apprentices made and sold it for themselves, he had allowed Martin a share in the profits of goods forged by him. It was not an idle offer that he would just let Martin walk away, he knew Martin had been frugal and would easily be able to pay off his prentice fees. That was why most masters did not work as he did, it meant that once their apprentice passed the Journeyman exam, they were forced to work for them for a number of years until the prentice fee was paid. He washed in the cold water he drew from the well outside, shivering slightly in the post dawn air not yet warmed for the day. He knew he others of his age in the village that had taken up apprenticeships were as nervous today as he was. Master John kept saying he had no need for nervousness that his work had long since passed the necessary threshold, but he could not help it.
He heard the scuffling and waking sounds of those in the house. His father whistling as he got ready for a day in the tavern where he served as the barkeep, his mother cursing at chickens under foot as she fed them, his twin siblings, six years his junior, shouting at each other, an argument over some item of clothing that both claimed to be theirs. He smiled as he walked inside, pulling a rough work shirt on. Finery would come later when it was time to celebrate.
Master John smiled at Martin as he saw the boy working. He had suggested his journeyman task, a scythe blade he could show off to attract in customers for the next harvest, though it would be decidedly unusual for a journeyman piece itself to be sold. He had gifted the boy with the necessary steel, a bar of steel he himself had made, skimming all the impurities off the iron he had smelted with limestone. The boy would need to do the forging and shaping and would know his success after the final quench.
He watched the boy sweating as he hammered at the heated steel, shaping the metal into the curved blade shape he wanted. It was close to two hours after midday when the blade was finished, with a long tan with holes in it to attach a handle later. He saw the tension on Martin’s face as he carefully heated the blade getting an even temperature before drawing it out and plunging it into the heated oil. Flames shot up as the blade hit the oil, but nothing marred the concentration on Martin’s face. After a while he pulled the blade out, checking it for imperfections, for straightness, for cracks or warps. He grinned, laying the blade down as it cooled. The tempering had gone well.
Martin started to grin through the finishing phases, sharpening and polishing the blade to a near mirror like finish. The handle was a strong hardwood, one that fitted perfectly and sat in the hand easily, helping to guide the hand to the most effective cut.
Master John clapped him on the back as he came forward, grinning. “A fine effort. Once sharpened it will be a fine tool indeed! Well done, Journeyman Martin!”
Martin grinned, his face and body covered in sweat. Gleefully he grabbed his master in a huge hug, six years of apprenticeship finally finished. “I could never have done it without your teaching and guidance Master!” He stepped back, looking at his Master and at the same time saw a sight he had never seen before, the four mages of the Covenant standing outside, looking in. Of course he had caught glimpses of them a few times while growing up in the village that was part of the Covenant, but this was the first time he had seen all together, and the first time he had seen any at the forge.
“Ah Master, we have guests.”
Master John turned around and looked out at the four mages. He had on occasion been summoned by them when they had a specific request, but most often he had dealt with their representatives, never had they come to his forge before.
He bowed low before straightening and addressing them, “What can I do for you, Master Magi? My forge is at your command.”
The eldest of the Magi, the one known as Helmeford and by his title of “The Earth Mage” for his mastery of such magic came forward. “I thank you for your greeting Master Smith, but we have come to talk to the one you have known as your apprentice. Please, send him out so we may converse.”
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Master John was surprised but knew better than to argue with the Magi. They were being polite, but the Fortress here was impregnable because of the magics of Helmford and how he had hardened and grown the stone from which it was made. Just as easily, he could tear down and destroy, his forge and all within it could be gone in seconds.
He bowed low at the same time indicating to Martin that he should step forward.
Martin watched his Master and heard the conversation. He stepped forward when his Master indicated to him to do so, confused as to why the Magi those elevated beings, would be interested in him. They seemed so far above all others who lived here. They ruled, the Baron and his household a concession to political reality that required the King to have a presence within the covenant. Nothing more than a political game, really, since everyone knew the King would never dare to interfere with or be foolish enough to try to command the Magi. The fortress and Baron also provided a useful cover for the Covenant, many superstitions abounded about Magi, and the King preferred to avoid the massacres of his subjects when fanatics decided that a crusade against the Magi was called for, and said subjects then found out that their superstitions were pale reflections of the reality of the magi!
So, it was a nervous and scared Martin who took a step forward, trying to emulate his Master’s deep bow, but stumbling and barely catching himself in his clumsiness with the unfamiliar move.
The mage who had spoken to his master spoke up, “Come forward, it will be difficult to speak to you while you stand so far away!”
Marin felt some nervousness, but he stepped forward out of the comfort of the forge into the outside, a mere few meters away from the four Magi. He could feel their eyes on him, the way they scrutinized him, examined him, judged him. He did not know what was going on, he had no idea what they would want with someone, especially such a newly minted journeyman smith.
“Martin, today you are sixteen, as is every other youth in the village born in the year of your birth. You have lived here, learned here and been under our protection from the moment of your conception. Your family has long served the covenant, I remember your great grandfather and how he helped plough the same fields, hunted in the same forest, your father now does.”
Martin felt a bit taken aback. Everyone knew the mages protected those that lived within the covenant. The rumors and stories of their longevity were passed around, but no one took them too seriously. Since they were so seldom seen, any supposed resemblances just put down to a lack of familiarity. To hear one so casually referring to his great grandfather, though intended as a compliment, felt surreal, rumors being made flesh and given substance.
He swallowed, then gathered enough courage to address the silently waiting Magi. “Master Magi, I await your orders. What do you require of me this day? How may my humble self be of assistance?” He felt a bit foolish copying his Master’s manner of speech when he spoke to highly placed customers or to the baron and his family when they arrived, but he thought it best to try his hand at this etiquette, regardless of his lack of practice with it.
“Help us? Why, Martin, you lack understanding. No reason for it to be any different, you could not know. However, the reason we are here is to help you. And in helping you, we will help ourselves, and the covenant.” Helmeford stopped talking at peered intently at the youth, seeing his confusion mixed in with fear.
Martin looked fearfully at the Magi, wondering how he could help the Magi. He thought of some of the darker rumors, the stories that the Magi were linked to demons, devils and other evil entities, that on the dead of night they practiced forbidden rites. Almost he bolted, scared, wondering is his fate was to be part of one of those rites, sacrificed, with his blood drunk to power the evil they served. But he stood, after all, if he fled would the evil fall upon his family?
One of the Magi, one much younger looking and dressed all in grey, burst out laughing.
“Helmeford, you know the stories the villagers tell about us? You know, the ones where we drink blood and sacrifice the innocent? You thought them long dead, they live on and this poor child is terrified that he is your next victim.” Chuckling he stepped forward, looking at Martin.
“Let me try this. First off Martin, my name is Linden, also known as the Mind Mage. Sorry about revealing your thoughts, but they are so loud I cannot help but hear them! Now, let me put your fears at rest. There are no dark rites, demons, devils or us needing you or your family as a sacrifice to them. What we want is far simpler, for you to take up a new apprenticeship!”
Martin did not know how to react, first at having his thoughts laid bare, and laughed at, and then the inexplicable offer. What apprenticeship was the Mage talking about? He was sixteen, past the age of apprenticeships plus he was now a journeyman, why would he look to become an apprentice?”
Master John, however, had more knowledge and experience. He had heard stories passed down by other Masters, of apprentices taken by Covenants, though it seemed exceedingly rare and it had never happened in his lifetime. And never had he heard it from a smith, they came mostly from book binders, sages, librarians, apothecaries and teachers.
Linden nodded following the thoughts of Martin and John. “Martin, here is a question for you? Have you ever heard of ascension? Some call it upliftment, others ‘the becoming’?”
Martin almost laughed despite the shocks of the day. “What? That is fairy tale stories of people becoming heroes doing mighty deeds. Mere stories, nothing more.” He felt suddenly afraid, had he just belittled the mage? “My apologies Master Linden, I did not mean to contradict you!”
“No,” Linden replied, “not stories, not fairy tales. Just exceedingly rare, and far from common. We know of those who have undergone it, in fact all four of us have in order to become Magi. But ascension is not the same for all. Each one is unique, each one affected differently. A mage finds their magic guided onto a path, mine is mind magic, under the Poer Lorelei, Helmeford there Earth magic under the Power Gromm. A warrior may find himself stronger, faster, able to use a weapon like no other, a ranger able to pass through the thickest forest without leaving a trace. For each it is different, each ascension guided by the magic within the person and how they express it.”
Martin stared at him dumbfounded. Claims that fairy tale stories were true were hard enough to swallow. Claiming that they applied to him even harder. He asked the one question, though it seemed a strange one to him, “And smiths, what does it do to smiths?”
Linden smiled, “We can't say, it depends on which Power claims you. But I must say this I do not feel the mark of a Known Power on you. It would be exciting to find out with you what your path is! But the choice is yours. You can return to your family, find a girl to marry, work as a smith, and looking at your prentice piece you are undoubtedly a talented one and will one day becoming a Master yourself. Live an ordinary life, remain safe and under our protection within the Covenant. Or you can come to us, tomorrow. Just walk to the Manor and you will be brought in. We leave the choice to you. If you do join us, your life will be different. You will become one of the Magi, one of the ascended, and you will grow far beyond what any master smith could be!”
Linden backed away, keeping his eyes on Martin, “Think about it, what you could learn, what secrets you could uncover as the first ascended smith. You will still be here, still be in the village. Your family, your master,” and with a wink he continued, “your girl, will still all be here. But you will be on a new path, one of greater learning and prosperity that can overflow to all your family, both current and your clearly wished for future one.”
The four mages stood together, then gave a brief bow to Martin. As they walked away Martin thought he heard a last few words on the wind “Until tomorrow.”
Name: Martin Race: Human Class: Blacksmith
Str: 12 Con: 14 Dex: 8 Int: 10 Cha: 12
Skills: Blacksmithing (Journeyman), Weaponsmithing (Apprentice) Armoursmithing (Apprentice), Smelting (Journeyman), Geology (Apprentice), Hunting (Apprentice)