VI. The Second Son

            The other apprentices usually didn’t pay Rhys much mind-- they rarely even spoke to him.  But today they were all looking at him.  Today was the day he took the Trials.  Today was the day he lived... or died.

            Rhys shuffled his grey woolen robes-- where had they found fabric so course?-- as fantasies of abandoning these commoner’s rags for the robes of a Magus flitted through his mind.  The other apprentices did not mind their robes of course.  Most of them were commoners.

The apprentices at the Tower Tehak often were often bush magicians from small villages, at times brought to the Tower forcibly.  A wistful love charm, a lucky pendant for protection, a cleansing to ward away evil spirits... these folk traditions were the most rudimentary forms of magic that all may practice, and indeed apprentices were expected to study them thoroughly. The Thirteenth Circle of magic, it was called: the gentle enchantments that merely called upon the ether and the nether that made up all things, directing it gently like using a fan to wave the air.  His master often said amazing things could be done with those who dedicated themselves to the nuances of Thirteenth Circle magics.  But Rhys knew he was being conciliatory. True power, the power of the Magi, was so much more.

Magic of the twelfth circle... the kind of power that touches the mystical energies that bind the world, that draws them into your body and bends them to your will-- that is forbidden to those who have not passed the Trials. The final, most deadly Trial was the Cleansing; to drink in the nether or the ether without having been purified was to practice the reviled Forbidden Arts.  It was witchcraft.

The Tower was one of the few places where the lowborn could advance their position, if they possessed that rare spark of intelligence. Those who were unusually strong or skilled could seek opportunity at the Citadel.  Rhys wasn’t sure what sorts of commoners were successful at the Temple of the Pantheon.  The most obsequious and silver-tongued of commoners?

Nobles, on the other hand, had little need to endure the arduous tasks of learning. But Rhys always knew he could be more than just a prince.  He watched his brother.  Thanus had everything: charisma, strength, and most of all birthright.  Thanus was the heir to the throne but still he wanted more.  Thanus wasn’t content to settle into the life of a bureaucrat; he wanted to be a knight.  Not just any knight, but the best knight.  And so Rhys would be more as well.  Rhys would a wizard.

For a moment he doubted his choice.  He was too weak to become a knight, he didn’t have the courage for fighting, but apprentices at the Citadel of the Sun did not have to take the Trials.  Apprentices of failed the rigors of the Citadel did not die.

            Rhys’s eyes narrowed he heard a snicker from behind him. The others resented him; the thought he received special treatment because he was a prince.  Well shouldn’t princes receive special treatment?  Rhys imagined a good number of them wanted him to die today.  Rhys took a deep breath.  Prove them wrong, he thought to himself. Prove everyone wrong.

            They wouldn’t have chosen him to study if they hadn’t thought he could pass the test, would they? But they didn’t choose you. The thought came with a pang.  His own Court Wizard had refused to teach him.  Only when he fled to the Tower and begged to study did his master take him in. 

            But it was what the sorceress had divined that troubled Rhys the most.  Peering deep into her tea leaves, the Dark Magus Leanna had told him the future of House Vael.  “I see death, Rhys,” the wizardess had hissed, her pupils wide as saucers, “tragedy will befall your family.  And it approaches soon!”

            The time for doubts was over, however.  He stood before the enormous doors of the Hall of Trials. Rhys took a deep breath.  There was no turning back now. The prince stepped inside.

            The Hall of Trials was a vast circular chamber in the very heart of the Tower Tehak.  In any moment, it could be transformed into what the wizards needed: an enormous audience hall with ceilings so high they disappeared from sight, or the intimate setting of an Apprentice’s Trials. The room was an impenetrable black save for a waist high stone spire in the middle of the room, overlooked by a dais. Seven Magi sat on the stone dais in a semicircle of high backed chairs.  Three black-robed wizards to the left; three white-robed to the right and in the middle the Archmagus Azaroth.  To the right of the dais stood his Master, hands folded reverently.

            “Rhys, the Second Prince of Ara’Valon, House of Vael, you have come to a place where titles are meaningless,” one Magus began.  “Here in the Hall of Trials there is only those who live and those who die,” a second Magus concluded.

            Rhys kneeled and recited the words his master had told him to rehearse. “Today I will be no more.  I will live to keep the Secrets of the Tower, or I will die to return my soul to the nether.”

            “The gift of knowledge is it’s own reward. The price of failure is death,” a third Magus spoke.

“I will live to serve the mysteries of magic, or I will return to the Deep whence all things came.” Rhys replied.

This time Azaroth spoke, breaking with ceremony.  “Are you sure you want to do this, Apprentice?”

Rhys nodded yes.

Azaroth looked to the Magus on his right.  The Magus recited.

“Place your hand on the stone, Apprentice, and begin the Trials Three.”

            Calm. Be calm, Rhys thought to himself. He mustered all his strength to keep his hand from shaking. Rhys stepped to the center of the room and placed his hand on the stone spire. The First Trial was Loyalty.  It began with the Delving.

            “Don’t fight it, child. This is going to hurt,” one of the Dark Magi said softly, lifting a hand.  Rhys watched in trembling fascination at the shimmering mist that seemed to creep from his body towards the wizardess.  The fascination was short-lived.

            Rhys screamed in agony and the world erupted in pain.

Author's Note

I’m debating taking this chapter out

Reviews

[Leah]

Nooooooo! I love this chapter. Obviously, I'm saying this about all of your chapters, but it's true. It shows us what Rhys is going through and what it takes to even START the Trials to become a wizard. I'm interested! It also shows what magic is forbidden. It's important that there are limits to what magic they can practice.