©2002 Ian A. Ralph
Chapter
I:
She froze, not daring to make a sound, still biting her lip from the pain of the scrapes. It hurt, but she could take it. She knew she was in for a lot worse if the boys found her. Seconds, then minutes went by, and the alley remained quiet. Finally, she slowly lifted the dirty, mud-soaked rags that served as her skirt up to examine the scrape on her leg. She couldn't avoid a low moan as the rough cloth rubbed against the wound. The barrels in front of her were suddenly knocked away. Four pimply-faced gangling youths stood there, leering down at her. The leader of the motley group, a rat-faced boy with pockmarks all over his face and a few wisps of stubbly hair on his chin, sneered down at her. "That's it, girly. Take it off. All off. We're gonna give you a good time." She yanked the rags back down over her legs and stood up, but there was nowhere to run too. There was no point in yelling or screaming, as no one helped anyone down in East Dockside. She whimpered and cowered against the wall. The rat boy reached out and grabbed her top and yanked. With a tearing sound, her rags ripped apart, most of them in the boy's hand. Angela clung to the remains, desperately trying to keep herself covered. "Please, leave me alone," she sobbed. "Don't you worry, girly. We don't wanna hurt ya, we just wanna have some fun. You just be nice to us, an' you won't git hurt none." "I don't know..." said a deep voice from behind the gang. "Four on one just doesn't seem like fun to me." The boys spun around to see a tall powerfully-built man standing there, his arms crossed as he looked them over. That he was wearing the colors and arm stripes that declared the newcomer as a Lieutenant of the town guard was not lost on them. He had two swords hanging off each side of his hips, plus another larger hilt was visible over one shoulder as it rested in a long scabbard strapped to his back. A couple of the gang started backing away down the alley. Rat-boy was not impressed. "You just mind your own business, turnkey. We just havin' a little fun here. You stay out of the way, you kin have what's left, hmmm?" Lieutenant Bearet's eyes raked over the boys again, then looked into the young girl's panic-stricken face. His dark eyes returned to stare back at Rat-boy. "I think you all should go on your way before I take your heads off, hmmm?" "Oh, I see. You want this little piece for yourself." sneered Rat-boy. "Nuttin' doin'. I've been chasing her too long to wait for seconds... Erk!" In a flash, Bearet's sword was pressed against his throat. "I'm not quite sure you understood me. Do you get the point now?" The guard smirked at the youth. The sounds of other weapons emerging from underneath garments informed the guard that rat boy wasn't going to be deserted. Quickly drawing a second, shorter sword, the guard placed his back against the alley wall. His swords flashed as he defended himself against rat-boy's friends, but the acts of defending himself allowed rat-boy the chance to draw his own weapon. While he was certain that none of the gang would have the skill to challenge him, there were four of them, and he would have to do something quickly to even the odds. As Rat-boy prepared to add his blade to the fray, the lieutenant rushed two of the other gang members that were on his right. The rush caught them off guard, and a moment later they were both on the ground, blood darkening their shirts. He spun to deflect the incoming attack of Rat-boy's remaining companion, and pressed the attack. As he batted away the boy's weak defense and planted his sword into youth's chest, Bearet felt a sharp pain in his side. Bearet spun around, swinging his sword, and caught rat-boy across the neck with a deep cut. With a surprised look and a faint gurgle, the rat-faced youth collapsed onto his face. Bearet leaned against the wall, and finished pulling out the long knife that had skewered him. He tossed the knife down on the ground next to rat-boy's body. "Nice shot. But not good enough," he muttered to the corpse. He leaned down, and yanked the overcoat off the body, and tossed it at the young woman who hadn't moved during the brief fight. "Cover yourself up, girl." Bearet noticed a small pouch on the boy's belt, and yanked it off too. He shook it, and guessed at its weight before tossing it at the young woman. "Here. Find a nice place to get cleaned up. Are you okay?" Angela looked up at the guard with wide eyes. "Yes sir, oh, thank you, sir, for saving me." Bearet held up his hand when it looked as if she was going to hug him. "Just my job, girl, just doing my job. Now get along." "Yes, sir, thank you again." Angela donned the overcoat and stuffed the money into a pocket before vanishing down the alley. Bearet leaned against the wall again. He was feeling a bit light-headed. He looked down at where he had been stabbed, and was somewhat startled by the amount of blood he saw there. He grabbed rags that were laying on the ground, the remains of the girl's dress, and used it to bind up his wound. It didn't hurt that much, so it couldn't have been too bad, but still, there was more blood than he liked to see. He headed out of the alley onto the main road, and continued to the to the Highland district gate. The Highland district was the western section of the city of Taselon. It was set on a spot of land a higher than the rest of the city, which provided it with a commanding view of the wide farmlands to the north and an excellent view of the Corinthian sea to the south. The founding Lord of the city built the first keep there. Eventually, a walled city was built on the top of the small hill, and the original keep expanded into a small palace. The city continued to expand eastward across the Muddy river, and south to the dockside section, where the wide bay allowed hundreds of ships to dock. Taselon had grown so fast over the past few decades that each of the previous Kings of Taselon started to build a new wall around the city. As a result, the lower portion of the city was divided into many sections by the portions of walls. The current Lord of the city, King Rudolf, was constructing yet another wall, wider and further out than the others, leaving enough room for expected future expansion of the city's population. Bearet made his way quickly up the main thoroughfare to the bridge across the river, then up the short hill to the Highland gate, the main entrance into the walled district, and the main offices of the city watch. Many people stared at him as he made his way, most with scorn and distrust, some with pity or concern as they saw the blood on his clothes, but they didn't dare accost him as he strode purposely through the streets. He was feeling even more light-headed and dizzy by the time he got to the gate. As he approached the main office, it felt as if the world had just been pulled out from under his feet, and he collapsed within sight of the gate guard. The guard on duty noticed the Lieutenant's approach, but didn't pay much attention to it, as he was watching people moving through the gate, stopping and questioning anyone that didn't look like they had any business in Highland. He heard a shout, and looked over to see that the Lieutenant was on the ground, face first. He turned and banged on the door to the guard house behind him. "Hey, get the Captain. We got a problem." Without waiting for an answer, he dashed over to where Bearet was lying. "Sir, are you ok..." his voice faded as he saw the blood coming from Bearet's side. "Oh shit." He looked up to see another guardsman sticking his head out of the door. "Get the Captain quick! And Doc Evans. The lieutenant's hurt bad!" "Not bad," mumbled Bearet. "Just a little tired. Just need to rest a minute. I'll be fine." "Don't try to talk, sir. Help's coming." Bearet mumbled something else into the ground, but the guardsman couldn't make it out. A few moments later, Captain Saul appeared, closely followed by an older man. The older man's hair was all gray, and he clutched a small bag in one hand. People had started gathering around to see what was going on. "Get these people out of the way, Nevin," the captain said to the guardsman. He turned to the elder gentleman. "See what you can do for him, Doc." Doc Evans knelt down and peeled away the rags from the wound. He prodded the edges of the cut and looked over Bearet's clothes, clucking his tongue at the amount of blood there was. "Lady, I said get back." The captain turned to see Nevin talking to a small figure wearing a faded and patched green cloak. The woman was making a very determined effort to get past the young guardsman. Nevin grabbed the woman's arm and then let go with a yelp of pain. The cloaked figure walked passed Nevin and came up to the captain. "Excuse me, sir," The voice that came from the hooded figure was unmistakably female, and had a soft, melodious tone. "I am a Healer. I can help him." The Captain rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed now was to deal with a hedge-witch, who dealt in questionable potions and stinky plasters. "Thank you for your offer, but we can handle the situation just fine." He turned his back on her, and looked down at Doc. "How's he doing?" The older man shook his head. "Not good, Saul. It's pretty deep, and he's lost a lot of blood. He won't last long enough to get him to the hospital. I think he might have bought it this time." The woman in the green cloak walked passed the captain and knelt down next to Bearet. She placed her hands on the Lieutenant. "Hey, get away from him. Now!" snapped the Captain. The woman stood up and faced the Captain, who towered over her small five foot frame. "I can help him, but we must hurry. He is fading fast." "And just what can you do to help him?" "I said," as she reached up to pull her hood off, "I am a Healer." Without the hood, Saul saw her to be an attractive young woman, probably eighteen, he guessed, with thick, long raven-black hair. What really caught his attention, however, were her large, violet eyes, and the tips of pointed ears emerging from the tangles of her hair. "Elf?" he whispered in shock. "Half. My name is Kaishia, Captain, and I am a fully trained magian Healer. Please. We do not have much time." Doc looked up in surprise at the woman and Captain Saul. The Captain was amazed. He knew by sight all the magi in the city, but she was a complete stranger to him. He suddenly bowed to her. "Pardons, Milady. What do you need?" "We need to get him inside." She pointed at a couple of the larger guardsmen that were trying to keep the area clear. "You, and you. Pick up the patient and take him inside. Put him on a table." The guardsmen glanced at Saul for confirmation, who nodded, then quickly did her bidding. They picked Bearet up and carried him into the guardhouse, Kaishia following close behind. Doc stood up. "You gonna let her do this?" he asked of the Captain. "Can you do anything for him?" asked the Captain. Doc shook his head. "Then she can do what she wants. If she actually can save him..." Saul shrugged. The older man shook his head. "Saul, my friend, I've been around this city for a long time. Never have I seen any of the Magus even consider helping out anyone that was less than a Lady or Lord, and even if they would, I don't think even they have the power to help him. He's all but dead now. It's a pity. Bearet was one of the best." "Aye." agreed the Captain. Together, they followed the group into the guardhouse. There was a large table in the center, that was usually used for the duty guards to eat on, but it had been cleared of dishes hastily, and Bearet was lying on it now, face down. Kaishia had taken off her cloak, setting in on the back of a chair, away from the small fire set in the fireplace to ward off the early spring chill in the air. She was wearing a long, plain, purple dress that matched the color of her eyes. Bearet opened his eyes to see the Captain enter the room. "Ah, Captain Saul," he croaked. "My apologies for getting my uniform messy. I promise I'll get the stains out before inspection tomorrow." Captain Saul knelt down to look directly into Bearet's face. The Lieutenant was pale, his eyes barely open. He looked back at the Captain, noticing Saul's expression. "That bad, sir?" "Not to worry. Someone here can fix you up." Bearet let out a gasp that could have been a laugh. "I don't think Doc can pull me out of this one, Chief. Sorry. My own stupidity. Let the bastard get to me." "There's a Healer here. An elf. She..." The Captain was interrupted as Bearet made an unexpectedly loud exclamation. "What?" He turned his head violently to the side to see Kaishia cutting away the cloth near the wound. "No, get that pointy-eared freak away from me. I'd rather die than let one of them dirty me with their magics." Kaishia looked down at the Lieutenant, an amused smile on her lips. "Your soul is perfectly safe, Lieutenant. All I am interested in is your body," she snapped. "Now hush. I need to concentrate." Bearet looked back up at Saul. "Please, sir, don't let her..." "Steady there, Lieutenant." Saul gave Bearet a small smile. "You'll be fine. Let her work." "But..." "Quiet, Lieutenant, and that's an order." Bearet gasped out a sigh, and closed his eyes in resignation. Kaishia looked up at the Captain. "Sir, It would be best if I was left alone. Having others too close is risky. Please ask your men to leave the building." Without seeing if he did her bidding, she turned to rummage around in her cloak, and produced four bright blue tapered candles. Saul motioned for the guardsman to leave, and shut the door behind them. He remained in the room, as did the medic, who was watching everything Kaishia did with suspicion. She placed the candles at each end of the table, and in the middle of each side, so that they surrounded the patient. She glanced up at the Captain and Doc Evans. "Captain, I would strongly recommend that you two leave as well. For your own safety." "We would like to stay, Milady. Bearet is my officer, and it is my duty to be with him at this time." Kaishia bowed her head briefly at them. "As you wish. Please, however, stand by the wall, and under no circumstances, pass through the circle made by these candles." The two officers nodded and stood against the wall to watch. Kaishia lit a small stick of wood in the fireplace that was built into one wall of the guardhouse. She lit each candle, and her lips moved as each one flared up, as if reciting a silent litany. Bearet had grown too weak to protest anymore and simply watched her through his bleary eyes. Saul saw a shadow flicker by the window, and glancing over, noticed that the expelled guardsmen were staring in. While normally he would take great exception to their curiosity, he couldn't blame them for wanting to see what was going on. It was rare enough to even see one of the magi, much less see one perform a magic ritual. And this one was an elf, or of at least elvish descent. He had seen an actual elf once before, many years ago. He couldn't deny the men what might be a once-in-a-lifetime example. Kaishia finished her ritual of lighting the candles around the dying Lieutenant. The wound was still oozing blood, but there wasn't time to clean it. The man was fading fast now. She could see his aura dimming. She pulled out a small knife that hung low off her belt, and quickly cut away all the clothing near the wound. Kaishia placed her hands on each side of the wound and closed her eyes, calling upon her inner senses to guide her efforts. She extended her mind and will into Bearet's body to repair what was damaged. There was resistance from Bearet. She could tell he was distrustful and frightened. This would take more effort than it normally should. Nothing seemed to be happening at first, as Saul and Doc watched. Bearet's breathing faltered and his body gave a little shudder. Saul felt a cold chill race up his spine as the room began to darken and the temperature fell in spite of the fire and the candles. Saul stared at one of the candles, and even though it was burning tall, it appeared dim. The room became colder now, and the Captain noticed that his breath was coming out as steam and the windows were fogging up. The candles and the fire were now casting a dim blue glow. The elvish Magus seemed to have turned blue in the light as well. She hadn't moved at all since she started the ritual, remaining absolutely still with her hands over Bearet's wound. Saul shivered in the frigid air, and he could hear Doc's teeth chattering. The windows were now covered in a thick white frost. The gate guardsmen were rubbing small circles in the ice to peer through the window. Bearet's body shuddered and convulsed. He suddenly inhaled then loudly exhaled a large steamy cloud. Kaishia removed her hands, red with the Lieutenant's blood, and sat down heavily in a chair. The candles and fire flared up to their original brightness and Saul began to feel a warm draft coming into the room from underneath the door. "It is done," Kaishia pronounced in a weary voice. She picked up some of the discarded clothing that she had removed from Bearet, and wiped most of the blood off her hands. She closed her eyes and rested her head on her hands. Saul cautiously walked up to the table, and looked down into Bearet's face. He was still pale, but he seemed to be breathing normally. He looked over to the site of the wound, and saw that it had closed, leaving a thin pink line where the puncture had been. She really did it, he thought to himself. She really was a Magus. He had been doubtful, suspecting at any minute to see evidence of her deception, but she was a real one. A newcomer to the city. The Captain turned to face her. She was still tired, but was watching his inspection of her work. "Will he be okay?" he asked. Kaishia nodded. "He will need to rest for a couple of days to recover from the loss of blood and the shock of the injury and repair. I would recommend that he take at least a week before returning to any duties. Other than that, though, he'll be fine now. Thank you for letting me help him." The Captain snapped his heels together and bowed low to her. "The honor is all mine, Milady, for sparing your energies to assist my fallen officer. We are in your debt." Kaishia waved the courtesy off. "Please, Captain, call me Kaishia. I'm hardly a Lady, and it just seems to me that if this great city of yours is to become my new home, that it is only proper I do what I can to help the protectors of that city." She stood up, extinguished her candles, and packed them away. Doc Evans opened the door, causing a draft of air to come flowing in causing the fire to rise and crackle. "Miss, that was the most amazing thing I have ever seen," he said to her. Kaishia face gently blushed. "Oh, thank you, but I'm sure you see this sort of thing all the time. There is an Academy of magi here, is there not?" "There is, Milady," said Doc. He paused, carefully choosing his next words. "It's just that they are usually far to busy to be available for us." "Oh." Kaishia seemed puzzled, then shaking her head slightly, gathered up her cloak. "Where are you heading, Milady?" asked Saul. "I am off to pay my respects to the Academy, as I'm new in town, and should introduce myself before setting up shop." "Do you have an escort, Milady?" "No, but I know the way. Thank you, Captain." "No, Milady, it would not be proper for you to travel unescorted, and I would be derelict in my duty to allow you go alone." He shouted out for one of the guards. "Really, Captain, thank you, but I'll be fine." A guard appeared at the Captain's summons, snapping to attention as he came to a halt. Saul spoke to him, ignoring Kaishia's objections. "Nevin, you will escort the Lady Kaishia to wherever she needs to go today. You will stay with her until she dismisses you." "Yes, sir!" snapped Nevin. The Captain leaned forward and whispered something in his ear, and the guard turned pale, but nodded. Saul smiled at the young guardsman, and then turned to Kaishia. "Nevin will escort you through the city today, Milady." Kaishia let out an exasperated sigh. "Really, Captain, I appreciate it, but I really don't need an escort." Saul gave her a small bow with his head, and a smile. "Of course you don't, Milady, but if you will accept my pardon, it isn't right that a Lady such as yourself, and a magi as well, should be unescorted. It isn't proper, and will not happen while I am Captain of the guard. You are new to our humble city, milady, so I hope you will accept my advice." Kaishia stared up at the determined face of the Captain, then to the nervous guard and back to the Captain. His continued deference to her made her feel uncomfortable. After all, she was just a Healer. However, the Captain seemed quite sincere. She sighed again. "Very well, sir. I accept your advice, and thank you for the honor of the use of one of your men." She smiled at them and bowed, then put on her cloak. She left the guardhouse, Nevin in tow. As she passed the other guardsmen on duty, they all saluted her as she went by. Once they were out of earshot, Kaishia stopped suddenly and turned on the young guardsman escorting her. "Nevin, is the Captain for real? Why did they all salute me?" She could see sweat forming on his brow as he nervously struggled to answer her. "Y-yes, Milady. Your effort is a great honor to us." He gulped. She shook her head. "I don't understand. I'm just a Healer. Why the royal treatment and this constant milady stuff? My name is Kaishia. Please use it." "But Mi... uhm... Lady Kaishia. You are a Magus. We saw through the window. You are a Lady here. All magi are Lords and Ladies." "Oh." Kaishia was startled by this information. She knew that true magi were respected and favored, but this was more than she was expecting. This would complicate things. "I see. Thank you, Nevin. If you don't mind me asking, what did he whisper to you just before we left?" Nevin's face turned pink. "Ah, uhm," he stammered. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" Nevin gulped. "Ah, he, ah, told me not to screw this up." Kaishia laughed. "I see. I assure you that I will report to him that you have done a fabulous job." She paused to look around the street, her expression turning into a frown. "Say... I'm hungry. Healing takes a lot out of me. Is there a place to eat around here? A good place?" He thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, Milady. The Golden Shepard." "Excellent. Lead on."
Kaishia felt much better with a full stomach. Nevin had chosen well, and had been startled when she had him sit and eat his fill as well. Apparently the magi here in Taselon were on the antisocial side, and from what she gathered from the young guardsman and that Captain, were a bit snooty as well. Kaishia had asked Nevin to give her a tour of the Highland district. They walked around the road that followed along the outer wall of the district. All the wealthy merchants, Dukes, Lords, and of course the King, lived in this section of the city. The palace was large, taking up most of the southern wall of the district. Nevin finally led her to an old stone building at the center of the district, at the crossroads of the main thoroughfares. The old keep reached up three stories with a high peaked gable roof, and two five story towers on each side. The roads met in front of the entrance to the old keep. One road lead to the Northgate, the southern road to the palace, and the road east away from the keep entrance lead to the Highland gate. Nevin paused in front of the building. "This is the Magi Academy. It used to be the original keep that watched over the bay. It was built two hundred years ago. Since they built the wall, and the palace on the south wall, the Kings have lived there, and King Acheron gave the old keep to the magi about a hundred years ago as a secure place to teach and study." 'Thank you Nevin. I appreciate your time. I'll let you get back to your duties." "Are you sure, Milady? I can wait for you. The Captain was quite specific you shouldn't be left alone." "I'm sure. I don't know how long I'll be here for." Kaishia looked up at the entrance. The portal to the Academy was ornately carved, with carved gargoyles and other creatures decorating the cornice. "Yes, Milady, and thank you. If you ever need my services again, please ask." Nevin saluted her, and headed east back to the Highland gate. Kaishia watched him depart and she turned back to face the forbidding entrance to the Academy. The piers on each side were carved with an assortment of runes that she identified as being used for various protections against the elements and spirits. She had scouted the layout of the city the previous night while in an astral trance, and the protections on the Academy were sufficient to prevent her from entering the Academy on the astral plane. She took a deep breath, held it a moment, then let it out to relax herself, reminding herself that she was a just a Healer here. She climbed the few steps up to the massive door, and pushed it open. It swung open easily, on oiled hinges and balanced well enough that it only took a small push to gain entrance. The entrance hall was small, with benches against one side and a desk against the opposite side. Another pair of doors stood opposite of the main doors, leading to the interior of the Academy. The benches were empty, however there was a young man in a plush orange robe with golden trim sitting behind the desk, a large book open in front of him. He looked up as she entered, a puzzled expression on his face. She gave him a smile. "Good Morning. My name is Kaishia. I would like to meet with the head of the Academy." The young fellow stared up at her. People just didn't wander in and ask for the Lord High Magus. "Uhm, sure. I'll let him know. Please wait here." He motioned her to the benches. He stood up carefully shutting his book and placing it out of sight behind the desk, then left the room through the inner set of doors. Kaishia removed her cloak and hung it on a rack by the door, noting that there were no other cloaks or robes hanging there. It seemed apparent that the Academy didn't get many visitors. There was a small mirror mounted on the wall next to the coat rack. She looked at her reflection and straightened out her hair, making sure that her tell-tale ears were not visible. Elves were rare, and she cared not to advertise that her blood was mixed with their kind. She took a seat and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, the young man re-emerged through the doors. He smiled apologetically to her and gave her a small bow. "Many pardons. The Lord High Magus is very busy today and cannot be bothered. If you care to leave your name, the purpose of your visit, and where you can be reached, he will send word when he would be able to receive you." "Ah. I see." Kaishia frowned. "Is there anyone else I can see? Someone in charge of apprentices or neophytes?" "Oh. Are you wishing to be tested?" "If that will allow me to see someone, yes." "Oh, okay. I'll let Magus Joylara know. I'll be right back." The fellow vanished again beyond the doors, and Kaishia resigned herself to another long wait on the bench. They could have least put cushions on them if they expected people to wait long periods, she thought. Then, that might be part of the problem. They didn't expect anyone to wait. A few minutes later, he returned. "Magus Joylara will see you in a little while. She is in the middle of a training ritual." "Thank you." The young man returned to his seat behind the desk and pulled out his book. He had a hard time concentrating as he popped his head up to look at her every time she shifted position on the hard bench. The front door burst open suddenly with a bang as it slammed against the wall, and a small balding wiry man wearing a blue and green striped cloak strode in. "Where is Malkar? I must see him at once!" he demanded. The receptionist stood up so fast his chair fell over backwards and he bowed low to the newcomer. "The Lord High Magus is in his chambers, Magus Shamir. He is not to be disturbed..." "Fiddles. I'll get that lazy slug outa his bed, and I don't care which of his apprentices he is bedding at the moment. This is important!" Magus Shamir stormed past the young man, and through the inner doors, not noticing Kaishia waiting on the bench. The receptionist turned a bright red as he glanced over at Kaishia, whom had witnessed the disturbance. He righted his chair and went back to pretending to study his book. A few minutes later Kaishia heard loud voices approaching from inside the keep. Their voices became clear as the door opened. Accompanying Magus Shamir was a tall Magus with a large hooked nose and a sour expression beneath close-cropped black hair, who was still tying together his robe. The tall magus was speaking to Shamir. "A magian Healer? An elf? Who did you hear this from?" Shamir gestured wildly in an easterly direction. "A guard at the Highland gate, High Magus. This witch appeared and healed one of the officers. They say he was dead and she brought him back to life." "Amazing, if true," scowled the High Magus, as he got his robe straightened out. "Are you sure? Those thick addled grunts wouldn't know a real Magus if they got turned into toads." Shamir nodded. "Pretty sure, High Lord. They say she was an elf, and she set up a protection circle, and just laid hands on him. The room got so cold that frost formed on the windows." "Harumph. There isn't a magus in this town that I can't feel them doing a spell, regardless of their protections, and I sensed nothing. So what does this witch look like?" "Well, Milord, they say she was short," Shamir held up a hand at about his nose height, which was about five feet. "Long raven hair, violet eyes, and pointed ears." As he was describing the witch, Kaishia stood up and pushed her hair back a little to reveal her ears. Shamir caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at her. His voice faded to a croak. "There!" "Speak up, man, I can't hear you..." He looked in the same direction as Shamir and saw Kaishia. She gave them a small coy smile. "Oh." Kaishia bowed low to them. "Lord High Magus Malkar, I presume. I am Kaishia, magian trained Healer. I believe you are looking for me." Malkar blinked a couple of times at Kaishia, and then turned to look at the apprentice receptionist. The poor lad was as low in his seat as he could be without actually hiding. "She was the one looking for me? And you didn't tell me?" he roared at the boy. "Please, High Lord. It was not his fault," interrupted Kaishia. "I did not tell him I was a magus. I believe he thought that I was a prospective neophyte looking to be tested." "What neophyte?" asked a new voice. This one belonged to a tall brown-haired woman with intense green eyes and wearing a pink robe who had just entered the room. "Lord Malkar, what gets you up this early? It's still before luncheon." Malkar scowled at her. "Good morning, Joylara. We apparently have a new Magus in town." He turned to look back at Kaishia. "So, with whom did you train, girl, and where have you been hiding?" Joylara snorted. "The doorway is no place for such pleasantries, Malkar." She pushed her way past the two men, and stood in front of Kaishia. "Hello, Kaishia. I am Loremistress Joylara, Mistress to the apprentices. As you might have guessed, this is our High Magus, Malkar, who is experienced with battlemagics," added Joylara, motioning towards Malkar. "And this is Magus Shamir, our head exorcist." Kaishia bowed to them all. "Pleasure to meet you all." "Welcome to the Academy of the Arcane Sciences. Come inside. We shall meet in my chambers, Malkar, if that is acceptable to you?" Joylara asked. Malkar seemed hesitant at first, but nodded in agreement. "Very well. You two and this..." Malkar paused as he raked his eyes over Kaishia. "Elf go ahead. I shall be there in a few minutes." With that, he turned his back on the lot of them and stormed back into the interior of the Academy. Joylara shook her head. "Never mind him, dear," she said to Kaishia. "He's always like that in the morning. Especially if he is dragged out of bed too early." She gave Shamir a scowl. "I thought it was important that he should know," whined Shamir, raising his hands. "I'm sure he'll forgive you. Eventually. Come, Kaishia." Magus Joylara led them into the main hall of the keep. The main hall was covered in tapestries, and various items such as bowls, vases and goblets graced tables and sideboards along the walls. She led them to one side and up a set of curved stairs that Kaishia realized meant that they were in one of the towers. "His Lord High Magus occupies the south tower," Joylara said to Kaishia. "His quarters are on the fourth floor. Mine are in the North tower, also on the fourth floor. Most of the magi live in their own homes here in Highland. Malkar and I are the only permanent residents of the Academy. He lives here as head of the Academy, and I live here because I am in charge of training our apprentices. Many of the magi have apprentices as well, but they all report to me for their basic training. Once they learn the basics, their own Masters or Mistresses take over for advanced training." Their journey up the stairs took them past a door that opened into a room filled with high tilted desks. About half of them were occupied by boys and girls laboriously reading or writing into books. They went up another level and entered into a large library that filled the third floor of the main keep. She led them to a corner where there were a few low chairs and a couch surrounded a low table. Joylara motioned Kaishia to one end of the couch while she took the other end. Shamir settled himself in one of the chairs. She pulled a cord, and a young woman in a pale red robe appeared. "Sabetha, please bring us some tea and cakes please." The young woman bowed, and hurried off. Joylara made herself comfortable on her end of the couch, and looked over at Kaishia. "So, Kaishia. Please, tell us about yourself and what brings you to our humble abode." Kaishia gave them a wan smile as she composed her thoughts. From the magi's attitudes as they watched her, she knew they would be monitoring her aura, both to judge the validity of her statements, and to get a feel for her personality. That was okay, she thought to herself. She was expecting it. It was her own nervousness that she was concerned about. To finally meet other magi that would be as powerful, or more so. Nervous that some flaw in her training would be revealed, or that she would be found to be inadequate in some other respect. That she had elf blood in her was bad enough. She got enough prejudice for having pointed ears. Why couldn't she have taken more of her father's appearance? She gave a small sigh, and turned her attention to the two magi. "There isn't that much to tell," Kaishia started. "My parents, a human father and an elvish mother, were killed when a gang of bandits attacked the caravan they were traveling with. I was a baby, just a few months old when it happened. A ranger patrolling the area found me amongst the wreckage. This was out along the western frontiers. He brought me to a nearby inn, where they took me in. "I was raised by the innkeepers until I was fourteen. One night, an old man came into the inn. His name was Latrim and he was a magus. He sensed my talent and managed to convince my foster parents to let me become his apprentice. I studied under him for fifteen years, and he taught me the basics as well as advanced healing techniques. "After he passed away, I traveled around. Spent several years among the dwarves. Finally, I decided it was time to come to Taselon. I want to open a shop to sell remedies, potions and alchemical supplies as well as having a place to research." "So how long have you been traveling?" asked Shamir. "Twenty years now, I guess," replied Kaishia. She could see him calculating. "Yes, that makes me forty-nine years old." Shamir stared at her while Joylara smiled. "You wear it well, my dear." Kaishia returned the smile. "The elvish contribution to my makeup, I suppose. Latrim always felt my ability to master the higher talents was because of my mother's blood." They were interrupted when Sabetha returned with an ornate silver teapot and a tray of small seed cakes. As Sabetha served her mistress, Shamir helped himself to the refreshments. The apprentice served Kaishia a cup of tea before bowing herself out. Malkar reappeared before the conversation restarted, looking much more composed than before. He was wearing a black robe with gold trim that gave him a formal appearance. He appeared very regal, Kaishia stood up as he approached, and curtseyed. "Good morning, Lord High Magus." He returned the bow. "Well met, Healer Kaishia." he motioned for her to take her seat, and he sat in the remaining chair. He looked over at the other two magi. "So, what have I missed?" "Not much, Milord," said Kaishia. "I was mentioning that my mentor felt that elvish portion of my blood was the key to my being able to master the healing talents." "Ah. And who was your mentor, my dear?" "Latrim, Milord. I studied under him for fifteen years." Malkar frowned. "I don't recall any magus of that name." "He discovered me about thirty-five years ago. We lived out on the Western frontier and didn't have contact with any city except the occasional trade caravans. He never told me where he learned to use his talents." Malkar rubbed his chin absently. "Ah. I see. Still, it is bothersome that I don't recall seeing his name in the lists." "Taselon isn't the only city with magi, Malkar," mentioned Joylara. "I know that," snapped Malkar. "But we are the largest. We have ten full magi and fifteen apprentices here in Taselon. I have the names of the magi that live in the other cities, and I don't recall that name among them either." "I'm most sorry, Milord. Latrim did not discuss any part of his life before he took me in. He was most reserved in that respect. He did mention Taselon many times, however, and that I should come here when I felt ready." "And it took you twenty years to feel ready?" asked Shamir. Kaishia nodded and a slight blush colored her cheeks. "I was uncomfortable with the idea. Latrim was the only other magus I knew. Once I started traveling, I discovered that my elven heritage was not welcome. I was met with a lot of hostility in all the communities I traveled to. Therefore, I decided to travel a lot among the dwarvish people. They cared not for elves either, but at least they were not as outright hostile as others had been, and once I became known as a Healer, many became good friends." "So why leave them? Why come here?" asked Joylara. "Even among the dwarves, there was still the sense of hostility among the general population, and I finally had enough. I have grown more comfortable with who and what I am, and I felt that coming to Taselon, being more cosmopolitan, and having a community of magi already, I might find easier acceptance." Both Joylara and Shamir nodded their agreement to this sentiment. Malkar just watched her, fingers steepled under his chin. "Have you ever visited the elves?" he asked. Kaishia shook her head. "No, Milord. I understand they hold half-breeds in even less regard than humans. Besides, I never learned to speak elvish. I had no one to teach me. Latrim knew a few phrases, and he tried to teach them to me, but he was unsure what they meant exactly." He nodded. "Yes. It's probably wise to avoid them." He put his hands in his lap and after a quick glance to Joylara and Shamir he faced her directly. "And what of your plans now that you are here?" "To open a small alchemical and potions shop, to have a place to myself to perform my rituals, Milord. To offer my services as a Healer." Joylara's face broke into a smile. "Wonderful. Donavan and Gefjun have been complaining about being overworked. They are the only two magian healers we have here in Taselon." "Ah, yes, well, there are certain formalities that we need to observe." Malkar poured himself a cup of tea, then leaned back in his chair, sipping slowly. "Before we can authorize any shop or let any magi offer their services, we must be sure of their talents. We live in a delicate balance here. The common folk are scared and frightened of our talents. Only the support of the King allows us the freedom and openness in which we operate. It was not long ago, less than two hundred years, that magi were hunted and killed out of fear for being sorcerers, summoners and necromancers. We understand that is still a problem out in the borderlands and frontier areas. He took another sip. "However, with the protection of the King, we are allowed to develop our skills, seek and commune with others of our kind, and use our talents to serve the Crown. We must be careful not to tarnish our reputations, or let any hint of impropriety taint our activities; else public opinion will force the King to act. And all of us know what that would entail." Shamir and Joylara nodded in agreement. Kaishia nodded as well. It was just that sort of thing that she wanted to avoid herself. "With that in mind," Malkar continued, "I'm sure you understand that we need to understand the scope of your talents and your abilities before we inflict you upon the general populace." Kaishia nodded. "I do, Milord. I am sure I can earn your confidence in my abilities." "Excellent." Malkar placed his empty tea cup on the table. "You will need to demonstrate your skills to an Academy tribunal, as well as allow yourself to be observed while performing advanced healing techniques. Though from what I understand transpired this morning, you should meet our expectations quite readily." He gave her an odd look. "However, I must comment that you seem to have excellent energy levels for one that performed such serious healing." Kaishia gave him small smile. "Yes, Milord. I was rather hungry afterwards, which delayed my arrival here by about an hour." "I see. Very well. When do you feel you would be ready to present yourself to a tribunal for testing?" "I can be ready any time at your convenience, Milord," offered Kaishia. "However, any day other than today might be better. My aura is always a mess after such a healing effort, and it takes a while to settle down." Malkar nodded. "I do see that. Tomorrow then, right after the luncheon hour. Please try to avoid any expenditure of élan prior to the testing." "I will, Milord." Kaishia started to add to her comment, but bit her tongue. Behave, she thought to herself. Malkar stood up. "If you will excuse me, ladies and gentleman, I need to attend to my duties." He turned to face Kaishia. "Pleasure to meet you, Healer Kaishia." Kaishia stood up as he gave her a sharp bow, and managed to return it before he turned and departed, his boots making sharp clicks against the wooden floor. Shamir rose as well. "I must depart as well, ladies. Please forgive me." He quickly turned and followed Malkar out of the room. Kaishia sank back down onto the couch, and let out a deep breath. Joylara had an impish grin and let out a light laugh. "He can be rather intense, Kaishia." "I see, Milady." Joylara laughed again. "Please, Kaishia, drop the Milady nonsense. We generally ignore it amongst ourselves unless we are dealing with the public or need to be formal. The Crown decreed that all magi would have Lord status, to remind them that their duty is to the Crown, and the protection of the populace." "I understand now. That explains a bit to me. I was wondering why the guardsmen kept insisting on calling me that." Kaishia giggled a little. "Where are you staying tonight?" asked Joylara. "I have a room in an inn down on the east side. I wasn't very selective last night when I arrived." "I see. Well, you'll stay at the Silver Dragon tonight. It's just a block up North avenue. They are used to our kind. I'll get it set up for you while you gather your things. Do you have an escort back to your inn?" Kaishia shook her head. "However, the nice Captain at the Highland gate said that I can borrow one of his men anytime." "I'm sure. I'll send an apprentice to summon an escort then. Meanwhile, more tea?" Joylara held up the tea pot. "Please." Kaishia held out her cup to be filled. "I know I've just arrived here, Joylara, but already I feel good about it. This was the right thing for me to do." "Glad to hear it." Joylara raised her cup to Kaishia. "Welcome to Taselon."
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