The Circle of Sorcerers: A Mages of Bloodmyr Novel: Book #1 Page 7

He awoke early the next morning to clamoring and bustling from below, and he was quick to dress, grab his wand, and shuffle down the stairs. Finding Ismerelda packing, he breathed a sigh of relief; the mysterious man’s visit the night before had filled Laedron with angst.

  “Ah, you're awake,” she said as he entered the room. She returned to her packing as quick as she'd turned to see him.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded. “I heard a commotion down here.”

  “I'm sorry if I woke you. We have much to do today, and I wanted to get a fresh start.”

  “It's your house, madam. No need to apologize.” He still felt some regret for causing her pain the previous night.

  Watching her stuff the bag, he thought it might burst at the seams if anything else was added.

  “That should be enough for this trip,” she said, letting out a sigh.

  He walked over and put his hand on her traveling bag. “I'll take it to the door for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He lifted the bag. “What in the world do you have in here?”

  “I assure you everything in there is necessary, but that's all I can say.”

  After putting down the bag, he massaged his lower back. “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Help yourself to some fruit if you like. I haven't had time to cook this morning, and we have much to go over before we leave.”

  “Training? This morning?”

  She laughed. “Certainly. We must make the most of our time, Laedron.”

  He remembered how the training session had gone the night before. “I hope you aren’t angry after what happened.”

  “Not in the least, young man.” She led the way to the basement. “It was a strong sensation, but no permanent damage was done.”

  She lit the candelabras and torches as he took his seat. Having drawn her rod, she whispered as a flame rose from the tip of it. “We're going to move on to some more advanced incantations today. I wanted to spend more time on the basics, but there's no time for that.”

  Twiddling his fingers, he asked, “Advanced spells? Isn't that dangerous for a neonate?”

  “Not if you do them right,” she said, letting out a laugh. “You'll be fine. Just pay close attention.”

  Her hands swayed back and forth as she spoke her invocation until a sudden burst of energy shot out and struck a training target across the room. When the smoke cleared, the dummy lay in two smoldering pieces.

  “I performed it slowly. You'll need to cast it much faster,” she said, ushering him in front of the next target.

  Waving his wand, he repeated the words, trying to keep his hand from shaking.

  She placed her hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Don't be afraid of it. So long as you point your wand away from yourself, you won't be harmed.”

  He nodded and continued. Sparkling energy flashed just past his fingertips until it cracked through the air. The training dummy flew against the wall after the magic struck it, and he gasped with exhilaration.

  “Good. Now, do it vigorously. Put everything you have into the spell and do it faster.”

  He swayed his hand again with a tight grip on the wand. Summoning all of the anger and frustration he had from the bottom of his soul, he watched the bolt crash into his target. Ismerelda walked over to where the dummy had once stood and took a pile of ash into her hands.

  Eager to hear her reaction, he called out to her. “Was that good? Did I do it well?”

  She turned to look at him, disbelief written all over her face. “You've never practiced that spell before?”

  “No, ma'am. Ma wouldn't ever allow it.”

  She returned to his side. “Yes, that was good.”

  “Should I try it again?” he asked, wanting to please her with his abilities.

  “No, that won't be necessary, Laedron. I think you've got it. Record what notes you need in your book.”

  Scurrying to his desk, he penned his notations in the book, but he soon felt her eyes watching him. He glanced at her. “What's wrong, ma'am?”

  Her eyes moved from his to the floor. “You have the makings of a great mage inside you. I find it odd you were able to perform that spell in such a powerful manner this early in your training, and the same goes for the Captivation spell last night.”

  “I only did as you asked. They weren’t difficult.”

  She sat at her desk. “Indeed. Are you ready to go?”

  “It's still hours until noon. You wish to go so soon?” He raised his eyebrow.

  “We can continue your studies along the road. I thought you'd need more practice, but I was mistaken. You seem to learn just as easily by instruction alone.”

  “I like to practice, though.”

  “We'll have time for you to practice once we reach Morcaine. Until then, I'll lecture you on magic. Fetch your things and meet me in the parlor.”

  She pulled several large tomes from the nearby bookshelf and took great care in placing them in a knapsack. Bowing his head, he went to his room to gather his meager possessions. In the parlor, he picked up her bag in his free hand. Grinning, she opened the door, leading the way to the narrow alley and out to the main street.

  “I'll hire a coach to take us to Morcaine,” she said. “Wait here with our bags while I fetch one.”

  He watched while she crossed the street before disappearing in the distance. Feeling uneasy standing there, he could only guess what kind of valuables were in the bag he had been left to protect, but he tried not to think about it. He hoped she would return soon.

  After what seemed like an eternity, a coach drawn by four horses stopped in front of him. The door opened to reveal Ismerelda offering her hand. “Come along, Laedron. Let's be off.”

  When he finished loading the bags, he climbed into the carriage and noticed the interior of the cab had seen much better days. “I wouldn't have expected you to ride in something like this.”

  “I had to take what I could find. All the fine coaches must've been rented already. It'll get us there, though.”

  After he closed the door, the driver cracked the reins, and the coach took off down the cobbled road toward the gatehouse. The complacency and security of being within the walls of Westmarch were soon replaced by the uncertain environs of endless countryside and forests. Being paved and sturdy, the road between Morcaine and Westmarch afforded the riders some stability and comfort. Gaining speed, the coach rocked from side to side, and the city disappeared from view behind them.

  “I've traveled this road many times,” Ismerelda said, drawing the curtain next to her. “I paid the driver extra to skip most of the stops, but we'll be forced to stay overnight at a roadside inn along the way.”

  Staring out across the endless plains, he said, “I wish there was a way to send word to Ma. I'm afraid of what might happen to her and Laren.”

  “There's no need to worry about them. They'll be safe in Reven’s Landing.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Though records still exist of her and Laren, neither are practicing Circle mages. As such, their records are buried beneath the more pertinent, current ones. If we keep our mouths shut about them, they’ll remain safe.”

  “I'm certainly not going to tell anyone. It'd kill me if anything happened to them.”

  Smiling, she watched him for a few moments. “You truly love your family, don't you?”

  “Yes, ma'am. They're all I have.”

  “They'll be fine. It's us I'm worried about.”

  “Why's that?”

  “We're going to the enclave, of course. Rest assured, mages aren't the only ones who know about this meeting, Laedron. Our only advantage is that it was called with short notice.”

  “You think they're going to attack the Circle?”

  “Possibly. We must be on our toes in Morcaine. If the Grand Vicar has any knowledge of the enclave gathering, he will undoubtedly send his agents against us.”

  He raised his hands. “Then, why go? We could hide out and be sa
fe.”

  Giving Laedron a caring look, she said, “We must do as we're commanded. The archmage wouldn't tolerate my absence from this meeting, and we're of the Circle. Besides, any open attack on the academy would be met with staunch resistance by over a hundred sorcerers.”

  “What does that mean, 'of the Circle?’”

  “Circle mages are those who are bound to the lawful and orderly practice of magic. We have rules of conduct which forbid us from performing the dark arts, such as death magic. If you aren't a Circle mage, you're an outcast.”

  “Are there many outcasts?”

  “None that I know personally. Those who are cast out from the Circle's graces often meet their end rather quickly. We police ourselves so we aren't policed by outsiders. Of course, it would seem the Heraldan church isn't appeased by that notion any longer, and they would see us all destroyed.”

  “There must be another way. Surely something as benevolent as the Heraldan church wouldn't kill all of us indiscriminately.”

  “I think you put too much faith in the good intentions of others.” Clasping her hands across her lap, she relaxed against the cushioned bench. “One man's good intent can quickly become another's execution order—all in the name of Azura, of course.”

  “Mages and the church have existed for a long time without war. Why must things change?”

  “The puritanical edicts of Tristan IV will change things. They don't trust our ability to use magic responsibly, and their mistrust doesn't come without reason.”

  “Ma used to tell us stories of sorcerers who used their magic for malicious purposes. Is that what you mean?”

  Bowing her head briefly, she continued, “Yes. There've been many in the past, but the frequency has increased of late. Most of them come from foreign schools, though; Sorbian academies don't have nearly as many expulsions per year.”

  “Rogue students are causing it? Why are they trying to punish everyone, then?”

  “In their eyes, we're the problem. Circle mages run the academies and create these outcasts. Thus, they intend to go straight to the root of the issue. To close the mage schools and do away with us would be their greatest victory.”

  Folding his arms, he leaned back against the cushions. “And they'll be the only ones left in control of magic.”

  She nodded. The road stretched before the coach and the miles passed beneath its wheels. The countryside, not unlike that of his home, marched past the windows. The hours went by with little more than Ismerelda's lectures on spellcraft, which Laedron recorded in his spellbook.