Guild Mage: Apprentice

The horologes had rung the third bell of the day on their way downstairs, and that meant that every one of the three footmen had an hour of liberty before they needed to even begin setting tables in the great hall for the evening meal. Liv wasn’t surprised to see Edward and Tom loitering about the edge of the courtyard, but she hadn’t expected First Footman Archibald to be watching her. Mama and Gretta would be busy cooking, but even Lady Julianne and Sophie stepped out onto one of the keep’s second floor balconies, affording them the best view of things.

"There’s no need to be nervous," Master Grenfell told her. He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "This is not a competition; no one is being judged here. You cannot fail. We are here to find out what your magic can and cannot do. You aren’t going to hurt me, or anyone else - and if there is an accident, you can see that Master Cushing is waiting right over there."

"Everyone is watching me," Liv said. She fought against the instinct to hunch her shoulders and make herself smaller. During all the time she’d been a scullion, and before that when she was only the cook’s bastard daughter, the smartest thing to do had been to avoid attention at all costs.

"That is because most of them have never seen high magic before," Grenfell explained. "And I imagine they’ve heard rumors of what you can do. You likely know even better than I do how quickly gossip spreads among servants."

That made Liv grin, and nod her head. Master Grenfell released her shoulder, turned, and walked ten paces away from her, until he was well across the courtyard. It wasn’t exactly warm yet, but neither was it chilly. Liv set her new staff of pale wood and silver in front of her, and gripped it with both hands. It felt reassuringly solid, like a tree rooting her into the earth.

"Before now, you’ve managed no more than four spells before complete exhaustion," Grenfell called across the distance between them.

"I couldn’t have done that without drawing on the ring," Liv pointed out.

Grenfell nodded. "Do not do that today. Leave it as an emergency reserve. You’re going to find the staff helps you to cast without wasting nearly so much mana. Let us aim for three spells this afternoon, and hope that doesn’t wear you out completely. Show me the attack spell you used against the stone bats."

Liv looked around for a straw archery target, but didn’t see one. "Where am I aiming?" she asked.

"At my chest," Grenfell said. "Don’t worry about hurting me. Just do your best to break my defenses."

Liv closed her eyes, and fell into the breathing patterns that Master Grenfell had begun drilling into her during her first lesson with him. In, hold, and out - three times, she repeated the process, until she felt her heart slow. The voices from the people gathered to watch them faded away. When she opened her eyes, the word of power was already stirring in anticipation.

"Celent’he Dvo Scelim’o’Mae," Liv sung, lifting the staff of aspen wood and pointing it at Master Grenfell’s chest. If the mana had been eager to rush out of her before, now it felt positively sucked out of Liv’s body into the staff. One by one, the silver sigils in the length of the wood began to spill out blue light, streaked with gold. Two frozen shards appeared in front of Liv, hovered there for a moment, and then shot forward at Master Grenfell.

"Aluthō ais’veh Novis perae Mae!" But as soon as the ice began to coalesce, the older mage shouted his own incantation in return, raising his slender wand of dark wood. Faster than Liv would have believed possible if she hadn’t seen Master Jurian use the same spell, a round shield of pure blue mana, rippling with golden waves, sprung up only a few feet in front of Master Grenfell. The two blades of ice hit the shield and shattered, raining splinters of frozen debris down onto the stones of the courtyard.

Around them, those watching broke into a soft murmur of chatter. Liv saw one of the guards collect a few coins from the others. Above, on the balcony, Lady Julianne watched silently.

"Good," Grenfell called back to her, allowing the shield to flicker and fade away. "We will find a balance between how many shards you summon at once, and how many times you can cast the spell. We will test how many shards it takes you to break one of my shields, as well. But for now, let us measure your defenses. You created two walls of ice, to block the doors, I believe?"

Liv nodded. "But they didn’t hold."

"Make one here, now," Master Grenfell instructed her. "Right in front of you."

"There’s nothing to anchor it to," Liv protested.

"That shouldn’t matter," the older mage pressed her. "You will not always have a convenient structure to build your defenses upon. Do as I have told you, Liv. Take your time."

Perhaps Grenfell or Master Jurian could cause a wall of sheer ice to appear right in front of them, with nothing to attach it to, but Liv didn’t think she could handle that just yet. Instead, she looked down at the stones of the courtyard. It wasn’t much, but she thought that she could build up from there. She set her staff down on the ground, so that she had both hands, and flipped through her spell book until she had the right page. Not that there were very many with ink on them, at the moment.

Liv set the book back on the ground, where she could see the writing, then crouched next to it, lifting her staff. She touched the tip of the wood to a stone to her left and a few feet in front of her, making sure to choose a spot within easy reach. "Celevet Aen Kveis," she sang, and drew the staff across the stones, from left to right.

Mana hummed through her, and then out through the staff, sparking up in wisps. For a moment, Liv doubted that it would work. Then, a long strip of ice solidified across the stones. It built up in layers, as thick as her hand and anchored to the ground. The process was not by any means quick, and it was a constant drain on her, but slowly, the wall rose.

By the time Liv was finished, the barrier was as tall as she was, as wide as she could stretch out her arms, and slightly less thick than at the base - perhaps three of her fingers, held together. Toward the edges, the ice was nearly clear, glinting in the rosey light of the setting sun - but in the middle, it was nearly solid white.

"Good," Grenfell called, again. "Now step out from behind it. Get off to the side, Liv, so that you are well out of the way."

Liv ducked down to pick up her book, closed it, and scampered off to the edge of the courtyard, to take a place next to the guards.

"Five coppers says he breaks it in the first try," Piers said. "You want in, Liv?"

"You’re betting against me?" she scolded him. "I’m never bringing you dessert again."

"Aluthent’he Dvo Scelim’o’Mae!" Master Grenfell shouted, lashing his wand toward the wall of ice, the motion as sharp and quick as a kicking horse at the summer fair. A pair of shimmering blue knives, flickering with golden light, appeared in front of him and shot forward, striking the wall of ice. The first impact cracked the wall, and for a moment Liv thought her spell might hold. The second mana shard, however, shot right through the ice, breaking it into pieces that fell down onto the stones of the courtyard like winter hail.

Another of the guards handed Piers a fistfull of copper coins, and Liv scowled.

"Come back over here," Grenfell called over to her. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Liv, we are testing your capabilities. Keep in mind that I’ve had decades of practice, and you’ve been doing this less than a season. Though your wall did not hold, it does have several advantages over a shield of raw mana, such as the one that I use. Can you think of any?"

"Well, I could walk away from it, for one," Liv said, getting close enough that she wouldn’t have to shout. "Like we just did. That means I can leave one behind, to protect someone else, and not worry about it. It doesn’t seem like the one you used lasts that long."

"No," the master mage agreed. "You are summoning a physical object into being; that object then persists, until some other force acts upon it. Given enough time and access to stored mana, I suspect you could build an entire forification from ice, then leave it to be defended by men like these." He motioned with his wand in the direction of the loitering guards, and they flinched back. "A mana shield, on the other hand, lasts only so long as I continue funneling mana into it. It is an immediate defense, not a persistant one. Now, what disadvantages does your wall have?"

That was easy. "It’s slower to make," Liv said. "Though I could try using Veh, like I did with the fox outside the wall. I heard you use it in your spell."

"You can," Grenfell said, "and another day, I recommend that you do; it will draw more mana from you, but the staff should offset that somewhat. Today, we are focused on comparing raw power. Last time, I had you set a wall and walk away, because I was attacking with sudden, shattering force. Now, we are going to test your endurance. Set yourself a new wall, and then continue using your mana to make it as thick as you can. I will do my best to melt it."

Liv nodded, then returned to the spot where she’d stood before. Part of the frozen base was still attached to the stones of the courtyard, and she intended to use it to build upon. She repeated her invocation, drew her staff over the remnant of the first wall, and began to build up a replacement. She hadn’t even finished before Master Grenfell called over to her.

"I cannot recall whether I’ve ever told you," the mage said. "But I was born the youngest son of the late Baron of Ashford. Let me show you my family’s word of power." He raised his wand, and pointed it directly at Liv’s head. There wasn’t even anything between his eyes and hers, yet: her wall had only reached chest high.

"Æteret Fleia o’Mae!" Grenfell shouted, and a lance of fire shot forward from the tip of his wand. Liv ducked down beneath her wall, but the heat burst around her as steam billowed out from the melting ice. Just in front of her eyes, the wall’s color faded from solid white to clear, with drops of water running down it. In a matter of heartbeats, the fire would finish melting the ice. When that happened, it would hit her.

In desperation, Liv took a step back and set the end of her staff against the wall. "Celevet Aen Kveis," she muttered. "Celevet Aen Kveis." Over and over again she repeated the words, her staff flaring to light as she forced as much mana as she could into the length of aspen wood, then through it into the only thing between her and a scorching hot plume of flame.

The ice thickened, welling up around the point where the end of Liv’s staff touched the wall. Steam billowed around her in clouds, leaving Liv utterly unable to see anything that was happening around her. There was no way she could keep this up for long; she could already feel her body emptying of mana. Should she just jump aside, and hope Master Grenfell’s fire missed her? She could pull mana from her ring, but he’d told her to save that for an emergency. If this continued much longer, Liv decided, it would become one.

She had just decided to make a run for it when the blast of fire stopped. Trembling, Liv gasped for breath, huddled behind her deformed slab of ice. Only when the steam had cleared enough for her to see did she emerge.

The wall of ice no longer resembled anything of the name. It was more like a bowl or a cup turned on its side, curved inward. If Liv hadn’t kept adding more and more layers, making it thicker and thicker, the jet of fire would have long since burned a hole straight through it, and on to her.

"Livy, dove," her mother’s voice broke across the courtyard, and suddenly Liv found herself wrapped up in an embrace, the staff awkwardly trapped between her body and her mother’s arms. "That was terrifying. Are you hurt?"

"I don’t think so." Liv shook her head. "Just tired, and sweaty."

"Master Grenfell," Maggie Brodbeck said, turning on the mage. "How could you? You’re supposed to be teaching her, not killing her."

"I understand what it looked like, Mistress Brodbeck," Grenfell said, approaching. "But your daughter is safe. I could have cut off my spell at any moment, and Master Cushing is right here. We had no intention of letting any harm come to Liv. I believe that she could withstand that attack, and she proved me correct."

"It’s alright, Mama," Liv said. "I’m alright." She wasn’t sure she’d been entirely as safe as Master Grenfell was saying, but she also didn’t want to stop learning about magic. She didn’t want her mother to try to put a stop to her lessons.

"A bit too sweaty for dinner, however," Lady Julianne said, crossing the courtyard with Sophie in tow. They must have come down from the balcony while Liv wasn’t paying attention. "Everyone else, get back to work. The entertainment is over for today. Go along, now."

"The journey of a mage is one of constant experimentation and reflection," Grenfell said, once Liv’s mother had finally released her. "Your mana control is much better when you are using the staff, apprentice. Over the coming days we will precisely measure the improvement. By the time we are done, you will be able to tell me exactly how many rings of mana each of your spells requires, both with and without your staff. In a true fight, you need to be able to track what you can still cast as your reserves are depleted. I will drill it into you until it is second nature. And when you have developed a new spell, we will do it all over again."

"But none of that will be done this evening," Lady Julianne said. "Come along with me, Liv. You’re entirely unfit for dinner. I apologize, Mistress Brodbeck, but I am absconding with your daughter. Perhaps you could send one of the girls to fetch clean clothes from her room, and bring them down to the hot spring."

"I have a roast to finish, in any case," Mama said. "Go and get cleaned up, dove."

Liv followed the baron’s wife back into the keep, and then down a stone stair that led beneath the great hall. Deeper than the cellars they went, to a place that she had never been permitted in before.

"Is it alright for me to be here?" Liv asked, her voice hushed. She had hardly ever had an actual bath; usually, she just used a wet cloth to clean herself.

"If I say it is permitted, it is permitted," Julianne said. Followed by Sophie, they stepped out into a large room, all carved from stone, with a vaulted ceiling. The floor descended in a series of concentric steps, on all four sides of a rectangular pool. In the light of the oil lamps on the walls, the water was sharp and clear, tinted a slightly odd shade that Liv couldn’t quite put a name to. The entire room smelled faintly of eggs.

"Master Cushing wouldn’t allow me down here the entire time I was pregnant with Matthew," Lady Julianne said. "But now that’s over with, I can enjoy one of the best parts of Castle Whitehill once again. Go ahead, dear. Get yourself cleaned up. Your clothes will be brought down shortly, and you can meet us in the great hall for dinner."

"Thank you, m’lady," Liv said, and made a curtsy.

"I’ve only bought you a reprieve," Julianne said, turning to leave. "Make certain to bring your book, a quill and a pot of ink to the table. Kazimir will be waiting for you, I should guess, and he’ll make you work while you eat."

Liv waited until the two women had gone back up the stairs, then shucked her clothing and slipped into the pool. The waters boiling up from beneath Whitehill were hotter than any bath she’d ever had before, and they loosened muscles Liv hadn’t even realized were stiff.

Perhaps she could be a few moments late for the evening meal, she decided.