darklight: leavetaking

darklight: leavetaking

by Lockehart

            The room was plain, very much so. That was the Forthael way--no p(l)ain, no gain. Even their beds were plain wooden beds for most of the students, with maybe a thin mattress (not very well stuffed either) for the highborns, who weren’t used to wooden beds. Around him, four walls rose unadorned in their entire warped wooden splendor from the floor to meet a smokedarkened, vaulted ceiling, a necessity for a building--hall--this big. This was the main hall at Forthael, used only for receptions, meetings (mostly semester-starting pep talks and rule reading) and welcoming ceremonies such as was being held now.

            Ahead of Kail, Arlon turned and gave him a cheerful wink. Much to everyone’s surprise, the lanky, cheerful swordstudent and the slender-dark, quiet magestudent had struck a rather strong friendship from the day Arlon had accosted him in the dining room and subsequently accused him of being a sneak. He’d heard some whispers of the orphan apprentice “kissing up to a highborn” but had ignored them, as was his practice; Arlon however had no such patience and had gone after the rumor-starters with a practice sword, resulting in a few hours of labor as penance for him, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation of those three (all supposedly higher up in their studies than Arlon) at being bested by a lowly apprentice at three-to-one odds. There were no more rumors after that, and everyone understood that Kail and Arlon guarded each other’s backs.

            The stomach-knotting tests had been held a week ago, and only those who had passed were here. As thus, the atmosphere in the hall was quite cheerful, almost jubilant, like it was years-end Fair in here. Those who had failed and those who hadn’t even taken their tests were waiting outside--welcoming ceremonies were strictly off-limits to apprentices--in a rather large crowd to welcome and congratulate each swordsman or mage as they completed the ceremony and returned to the courtyard. The full swordsmen and mages were inside in a semicircle around the two Masters and the oathstone, witnesses to the ceremony.

            There was an even dozen of students waiting this time, including him and Arlon. As they approached the Forthael Masters, mage and sword both, the semicircle of witnesses fell silent. There was no dais for the Masters to stand on--more of that Forthael plainness--and they simply stood behind the oathstone, under the crest of Darzon. The oathstone wasn’t even on a proper pedestal, just a plain wooden half-pillar with a depression at the top. Others might have dismissed the Forthael administration as being stingy, but Kail knew they were simply plain men with no love for ornamentation. Of course, being able to save money was a good thing, but that wasn’t the point.

            “Apprentice Daran!” The call rang out for the first boy in line. Kail hadn’t really understood why they couldn’t take their oaths all at once to save time, but now he did. The brown-clad swordstudent stepped forward and paused for a moment before placing his hands on the stone as Master Sword Carlil indicated. A normal person wouldn’t have noticed anything, but Kail’s magic-attuned sight saw the faint radiance emanating from the stone. He wondered idly if anyone else knew. The ability to sense or see magic and its application was quite rare.

            “Apprentice Arlon!” Arlon was sixth in line, Kail tenth. The first seven students were swordstudents, the next four mage, and the last a rather nervous healer-apprentice, in his slightly stained pale-green clothing. The healer would probably be oath-led by the Master Mage--the Master Healer was a wizened old man who spent most of his time in the mountains, taught only three apprentices, and flatly refused to attend any and all ceremonies--with a memorized list of the questions for the healer’s oath.

            “Apprentice Kail!” The gray-clad apprentice resolutely walked forward, towards the oathstone. The other nine ahead of him had already gone out, although Arlon lingered at the door to watch him. Placing his hands on either side of the ‘stone, he felt the energy flowing through him like electricity, going in a circle from stone to him through the earth and wood to stone again. Maybe the choice of a wooden pillar was symbolic, in a way, considering this circle seemed to mimic nature in a way.

            “Kail. You have passed the required tests satisfactorily”--“more than”, he thought he heard Arlon mutter--“and have been found acceptable for the acceptance into the ranks of mages of this land. Do you enter into this brotherhood in free will?”

            “Yes.” The stone started shimmering, a thousand shades of silver chasing each other across the flat gray surface.

            “Do you swear not to use your powers for evil or to hurt another being of good unless in self-defence?”

            “Yes.”

            “Do you swear loyalty to the Archmage and Council except when orders conflict with your earlier oaths?”

            “Yes.”

           

            “Very well. Then as Master in Magery of the School Forthael, of the Kingdom Darzon, do I accept you, Kail, into the ranks of the mages. As your talents lie with wind and water, I shall grant you the name Stormcaller, for your usage as a mage. Turn, Stormcaller, and march to your destiny.”

        *           *           *          

            Here I am again, Kail thought wryly, attending a ceremony, only this time Arlon won’t be watching, I won’t be a more carefree seventeen, and we both won’t get drunk afterwards. The Council mages strongly frowned on intoxication of any sort.

            Here, meaning the grand hall in Darzonius, was a far cry from the small hall in Forthael where he’d attended his first swearing-in--welcoming--ceremony. This hall was enormous--it had to be, because it was also the main hall for all the functions being held in the city and had to fit, depending on the season, party revelers, groups of solemn mages, loads of giggling children, and at one time even refugees--it had been a very wet year, and many of the lowland areas had been flooded. The hall was thankfully, not too bad in terms of richness (Kail did not like anything that stank of money) although it was downright sinful compared to the spartan Forthael hall.

            The ceremony being held was a rather important one--the Mastery achievement ceremony. Upon achieving Mastery in a certain specialty, a person was the equivalent of a teacher in the academical subjects, qualified to teach at a school and to take apprentices. More importantly, the rank of Master enabled one to try for a position on the mage Council, something forbidden to mages and apprentices. This particular ceremony had only a handful of mages overseeing it--given the size and importance of the capital city, it might have seemed rather odd that there were only a small handful of master mages there--mostly guarding the palace or teaching apprentices in its mage-wing. Only five candidates stood in the hall; of them, only two would lay their hands on the swearstone today. The other Masters had said so earlier.

            Despite Arlon’s confidence in calling him “Master Mage” earlier, Kail didn’t feel quite as much. True, he believed that he was qualified for it, but then again, so were the others. It didn’t matter, really. Master Mage or no, he’d leave anyway. After attending the coronation, perhaps.

            “Mage Lightwatcher.” The sound penetrated even outside the hall, and the small group of mages and apprentices waiting outside applauded immediately. Talias Lightwatcher was an open, friendly young man who’d made himself welcome to just about everybody in the mage-wing.

            The entire hall held a collective breath; the entire hall, except Kail, who didn’t really care all that much one way or another.

            “Mage Stormcaller.” Polite applause followed--to most, Kail was an enigma, a quiet, polite young man who knew his magery, could be found in the library more often than not and spent more time with the Prince than most--except from a very enthusiastic ovation from a cloaked figure whom Kail spotted out of the corner of his eye.

            I’ll have to talk to him about that, Kail thought as he stepped forward.

           

            A half-hour later, the newly-made Master Mage Kail Stormcaller cornered his Highness-soon-to-be-Majesty Prince Arlon in the sword-practice arena, wearing what he’d worn to the ceremony, with the addition of his silvery-blue Mastery sash and a thunder-scowl.

            “WHAT were you thinking, sneaking around outside the hall there?” the mage thundered.

            Arlon did know Kail and his moods. The young man rarely got angry, and when he did, it was usually because of Arlon and his (lack of) safety precautions. He also knew that Kail was usually right about what he should and shouldn’t do, including hanging around a mage-ceremony incognito, minus guards, but damned if the prince would follow or listen to him, oh no! Prince Arlon wanted, would have his freedom, if it meant facing up to Kail once in a while. Besides, he was quite used to that. So the swordsman simply lowered his sword and grinned.

            “Sorry, Kail...” The mage sniffed. One of these days he’s going to get stabbed in the back by an assassin in the middle of a crowd of mages when he’s sneaking around, and then we’ll see where his “sorry” gets him. He didn’t really have the heart to be angry for long--after all, they’d be separating soon enough. “Kail...” The quiet call carried a note of entreaty.

            “No, Arlon, I can’t stay. In fact, I’m leaving today. My transfer got approved yesterday. The Forthael Master is old, and he needs a replacement anyway.” Master Mage Leonas had been around for as long as both them could remember, and a fair time before that, too. Rumor had him at eighty or so.

            Arlon blinked, shocked. Whatever retort he’d had in mind died on his lips. “Today? But you didn’t--“

            “I wanted to make it a clean break. No dangling threads, tedious present-exchanges, tearful goodbyes or any of that theatrical stuff you seem so fond of.”

            Arlon sighed, nodding as he did. “Yes... I understand.” Surprisingly, the young man stuck out a hand, eyes dark. “Goodbye, my friend.” The simple word “friend” carried overlays and other meanings that probably only Kail could understand. “May your days be bright and your nights peaceful, may sun and moon Angels guide and protect you, and may you get one heck of an irritating student to pay you back for leaving me.” That last was somehow delivered with a straight face.

            Kail chuckled, taking Arlon’s hand in a firm grip. “Goodbye, my friend,” he echoed. “May your days be peaceful and your nights quiet, may sun Angel illuminate you and your way...” He thought for a moment, then added impishly: “And may you marry a good woman who’ll keep you hopping day and night so you’ll forget faster and cheer you up like any good love should.”

            Arlon smiled, as sunlight played about them both, as if blessing their last goodbye. Kail took the time to immortalize Arlon’s face at that moment in his memory, and he supposed the other was doing the same. Finally Arlon smirked, and said, “Not like you could.”

            And they let go.

Finished! Finally... -laughs- God I love Kail. If anyone’s confused, the “***”s denote a change of time from seventeen-year-old Kail to nineteen-year-old Kail, and in Ascension, from sixteen-year-old Arlon to eighteen-year-old Arlon. And back again, if need be. Does anyone want a sequel? I planned one (of queens and students) supposedly to introduce Arlon’s new queen Aenura, but I think the duology seems about complete. No need to muck up stuff with a new story... at least that’s what I feel. Opinions? And I do think the stories gave quite obscure hints about it, but Arlon and Kail are in love... I did say shounenai, didn’t I?

-Lockehart (1-10-2001)