Storm's Apprentice

Count Serrato arrived at the mountain a few days later, on the fifth day of my second week. I was practicing with the short sword from the fort when the ground started shaking like someone was pounding the earth with a giant hammer. It reminded me of being back in Kirkswill in logging season, when every giant tree felled would make the buildings shake half a mile away.

The noise was quiet at first, getting gradually louder as whatever it was couldn’t be ignored.

I lowered my sword, the starting forms of Arrenshu forgotten, and ran out of the barracks towards the terrace ledge.

The steep mountainside stretched out below me, and the hazy marsh beyond that. The clouds were sparse today, backed by blue, with the sun a few hours above the horizon. There was a light breeze hitting my face, bringing air scented with algae-choked water and the fresh green smell of the dense trees.

There was movement beneath the trees, a mass of moving shadows with edges defined by where I knew the road lay, hidden by the foliage.

The source of the thundering footsteps was obvious. It rose above the canopy, a bulbous black shape that swayed and bobbed along the road. At first glance I thought it was a spirit, a huge humanoid shape, coal-black in a way that glinted in the light, but after a minute of its steady approach I realized it was an enormous suit of armor. Black iron, sharp-edged, and moving apparently under its own power.

I’d seen something like it, I realized. A week before I’d seen a pair of older students in the workshop lacquering a giant iron helmet, the twin of the one the thing was wearing.

“What is it?” I asked.

I was speaking to myself, but the noise had attracted other students. One of them answered without taking his eyes off it.

“A war machine,” he said. He sounded awed and a little concerned. “I think they call this kind a Titan.”

The Titan broke cover at the base of the mountain and I got to see it in more detail.

Its body reminded me of a stove, a huge black barrel, almost cylindrical, with a grated door on its front. Its legs were wider than a human’s would be at the scale, as if they were a person wearing baggy pants, and in its right hand it held an enormous studded club. I couldn’t help but think the weapon was redundant, a blow from the thing’s fist could probably cave in a house.

Small shapes moved around at its feet, and after a second I realised it was escorting a party of ordinary-sized people.

“Is there a spirit inside?” I asked him.

I felt stupid asking such a basic question, but I didn’t know what else could move something so large.

“No, it’s a machine. They take a sorcerer and a dragoon to operate.”

I wasn’t the only one listening in to the older student’s explanation. If there were places where the war machines were a common sight, it wasn’t Losiris. From the number and age people eavesdropping, they couldn’t be a common sight here, either.

As the group of travelers made their way up the mountain, I saw the figure I thought must be Count Serrato himself. The crowd was mostly made up of soldiers in black and silver, and a few officials in elegant robes, but one figure looked different from the rest. He walked at the center of the group, dressed in white from head to toe. White robe, white shoes, and a broad-brimmed white hat. The hat supported a veil that enclosed him down to his knees, obscuring his face and most of his body.

Some of the soldiers rode horse-like war beasts, and there was a large wagon rolling along at the back of the company, but the figure in white was walking on his own feet.

“Is the count a Reeve as well?” I asked no one in particular, hoping that the older student would answer.

Instead he turned a withering gaze on me, and for the first time he seemed to notice the sword in my hand.

His eyes lingered on it, and I was suddenly sure he was going to try and take it from me.

I shoved it into my pack and moved away from the ledge.

I saw the group again from the entrance to the barracks, as they made their way up the terraces. They’d been joined by three academy masters, who were walking in a line with the figure in white, speaking in low voices.

As they passed I got a better look at the count. He moved with ethereal grace, pacing slowly, but seeming to cover a lot of ground in a short time despite that. The mud didn’t seem to be able to touch his clothes, which still looked pristine even after what had to have been several days spent in the swamp. I didn’t know if it was the result of magic, training, or the man’s spirit ancestry, but it was almost like watching a ghost walk through the academy grounds.

They passed by quickly, some of the soldiers hanging back to join the academy-stationed guards by the ramp.

The Titan wasn’t with them by the time they passed. Walking cautiously back to the edge of the terrace, I saw it waiting below by the gate. Some students were trickling down through the grounds to go and look at it, but I didn’t want to get any closer to it than I needed to.

It had a sinister look to it, dangerous and practical, and it gave off the impression of being unstoppable. It was everything terrifying about the Antorxian Empire condensed into a single massive object.

“Attention, Windshriek students,” a voice suddenly echoed down across the mountain.

The few robed students still standing on the terrace started looking around for the speaker. I craned my neck to look up at the next terrace, but I couldn’t see where the words were coming from.

“All initiates are invited to attend a special lesson on aspect manipulation. The lesson will be delivered by Master Cordaze on the administrative level in ten minutes. Attendance is highly recommended.”

The voice died out, and the students around me on the terrace all immediately started moving toward the ramp.

I was an initiate, so the announcement must apply to me, but I wasn’t in a hurry to meet Master Cordaze again. That woman had scared me. I’d seen her blow off a student’s hand purely for the shock value, and I didn’t long to be her next example. Unfortunately, actual guided lessons at the academy were almost unheard of. I wasn’t sure I could afford to pass it up, especially if everyone else would be attending.

I glanced back at the barracks. I could either go back to ineptly waving my short sword around in imitation of forms out of a book, or I could go and risk learning some real magic.

I started following the other students. It looked like there were enough of us at the initiate level that I’d be able to hide at the back of the crowd.

I caught sight of Cordaze as soon as I reached the level of the administrative tower.

She was exactly as she’d been on the first day. A tall woman with skin that was a patchwork of light brown and stone gray. The thick black braid hanging over her shoulder might as well have been stone for the amount it had moved since the welcome speech.

She turned her gaze on the initiates as we approached, her right eye brown, the left a dazzling shade of blue, scrutinizing us with a look of distaste on her face.

As we got closer, I started being able to sense the same familiar maja presence I had on the first day; a swirl of energy that felt sharp and cold, like a spur of flint caught under the skin.

Cordaze wasn’t alone on the terrace. A handful of soldiers stood near her, and a little way off, standing alone, was the white-clad figure I’d guessed was Count Serrato.

She was standing next to a big piece of equipment I hadn’t seen before. It looked like the globe map Scribe Bevin had kept in his office, a smooth sphere suspended on a frame that would let it rotate. The difference was that this sphere was blank, about as tall as I was, and made entirely of dull gray metal.

Cordaze watched us gathering up impatiently, and started speaking before the group had even stopped arriving.

“Initiates, today you will learn how to harness the Wheel aspect. Wheel is one of the fundamental aspects of movement. It has many applications, and simply by mastering it today you will increase your value to the Antorxian Empire three-fold.”

I caught Count Serrato’s veiled head nodding to himself at her words, though she’d made no mention him.

“This device is a Phinion wheel,” Cordaze said. She lifted a hand that was completely gray to indicate the sphere, then started moving her hand through the air in circular patterns. As she did so, the giant metal sphere began to turn on its frame. “You will use this device to understand the nature of Wheel. Internalize what the Wheel aspect really means. Feel the weight of it. Feel the power of its rotation. A rotation that can stabilize structures along its axis. A rotation that can store large amounts of energy.”

She continued to wave her hand, and the sphere continued to speed up. At first it was only rotating as fast as a wagon wheel, but within a minute it was moving so fast that the dimples of its surface dissappeared and a cool wind started blowing off it.

I was now more afraid of the sphere than I was of Cordaze. I was sure it was going to fly off its frame at any second and crush us all.

“To demonstrate how to learn the aspect, I will enlist the help of an initiate,” she said. Her hand snapped out, pointing at one of the students in the front row. “You will be the first to receive this lesson. Approach the Phinion.”

The student she’d pointed at, a man older than me in a light gray robe, sagged slightly. He hesitated for a few seconds, then stepped up to the sphere.

“Do you feel it? The power of its rotation?” she asked.

The man hesitated again, then said, “Yes.”

“Excellent. Now use that feeling to tune your maja. Use it to speed the sphere.”

The man haltingly lifted his hand, and began moving his hand through the air like Cordaze had done.

After a few seconds, she snapped. “No! You don’t understand at all.”

She reached out and gripped the air. The man lurched forward like he’d been pushed. He stumbled, catching himself when his face was just inches from the spinning surface of the ball.

“Feel it,” Cordaze said.

“I feel it!” the man said.

“Then show me.”

The man raised his hand, so close to the sphere it was almost touching, and closed his eyes.

Cordaze watched him for a few seconds before shouting, “No!”

She jerked her hand, and the man fell forward. His hand made contact with the ball. His hand simply disappeared. Red mist filled the air, spreading around the ball in gradually expanding halo.

The man was silent for span of seconds, then he fell to the ground screaming.

The students around him shuffled backwards, putting distance between themselves and the ball, but also opening up gaps that let me see what was going on.

I felt a little vindicated that my concern about Cordaze had been warranted. Another lesson, another needless mutilation.

Master Cordaze crouched by him and spoke almost kindly.

“Now. Now you have it. Show me.”

The man took a minute to get to his feet. He shakily held out his remaining hand towards the sphere. He didn’t make any motions with it, he just stood there, arm outstretched.

I didn’t notice any change in the spin of the sphere, but after a minute Cordaze smiled.

“Yes. You understand. This is the power of the rolling boulder, of the whirlwind, and of the world beneath our feet. Now, reverse it. Slow the sphere.”

The man changed the angle of his remaining hand slightly.

“You feel it?” Cordaze asked. “The power? You’re receiving the maja which was used to increase the spin. In time you could drain it to stillness, replenishing yourself in the process.”

She stood there in silence, and then off to the side, Count Serrato began clapping politely.

The wounded initiate swayed on his feet then fainted, collapsing into a heap. His robe was stained with blood all the way down to his feet.

Cordaze lost interest in him, turning to the rest of the group.

“The Phinion will continue turning for four more hours. Anyone who wishes to learn the Wheel aspect may use it until the end of that time.”

Cordaze left, walking to where Count Serrato stood and escorted him back towards the tower.

I waited until she was a safe distance away before I risked joining the other students in approaching the sphere.

I hadn’t had any luck with Lectuous’s riddle of the Thought aspect, but this seemed like a more straightforward lesson. Assuming I could learn it without being dismembered.

The students left behind after Cordaze’s lesson were crowding around the thing like villagers watching a visiting magician. Some raised their hands to try and repeat what Cordaze had done. One risked her fingertip to touch it, snapping her hand back after what was probably only a mild flaying.

I hung back, waiting for them to get bored and move away.

Most of them dispersed over the next hour, trickling away in twos and threes. From their expressions I assumed most of them had failed to learn the aspect.

When a clear space appeared I moved forward.

The Phinion only got more frightening up close.

I could almost feel its weight. I held up a hand and felt it tugging at the hairs of my arm as air whipped around in its wake. The noise was terrifying on its own, a deep rumble almost too low to hear. The sight of the older man’s hand disintigrating at its touch was in the front of my mind. I felt like the slightest stumble here could end my life.

I put my own hand just a hair’s breadth away from it.

I didn’t feel what Cordaze said I should feel. I didn’t feel the rolling boulder, or the cyclone.

What I felt was Antorx; an empire spinning in place, full of energy and barely restrained chaos, crushing anything that touched it without slowing, changing, or even noticing.

I pulled a thread of maja from my core, down my arm, and into my hand. I pressed that mental image onto it, a visage of lumbering, spinning, crushing unstoppable dominion, and pushed it out at the sphere.

My world lurched as the maja flew from my hand. For a second I was the one spinning. My arm spasmed and maja flowed back into me. Sharp, cold maja, like stone needles.

I stumbled back, clutching my arm.

It was outwardly unhurt, but felt cold.

It was like Cordaze had said. I’d slowed the sphere, and taken back some of the maja that she’d invested in it.

I flexed my hand, the flinty coldness turning to pins and needles as blood flowed through my arm and my own maja returned to it.

I looked back at the sphere.

Some of the other students were still trying. One of the students I’d arrived with stood there with a shocked look on her faces. She’d got it too.

Cordaze had implied that someone who’d learned the aspect could slow the sphere to a stop, absorbing all of the maja she’d put into it. I wouldn’t blame anyone who didn’t want to. I’d only had a taste of Cordaze’s distinct energy, and I didn’t want another drop.

I left the Phinion wheel behind, heading back down to the dormitory. I didn’t have long before the next assignment, and I wanted to be as prepared as I could.