Valor and Violence

Ferez stood at ease, his hands clasped behind his back as the other high mages bickered at the tribunal bench before him. Asim was just behind him, a steady presence amidst an environment of high emotions and harsh words.

“Are you mad, Mage Ahud?” High Mage Jolsic screamed from behind his bushy beard, so faded from age it was nearly completely white. The ancient practitioner had been screaming such drivel for about ten minutes now and, to be honest, Ferez was impressed. His face had gone a deep violet behind the course bristles, yet an impeding loss of consciousness or heart attack had failed to diminish his rant’s volume or rate of delivery.

“That’s High Mage Ahud, if you would,” Ferez replied during a brief break, visibly and deliberately stifling a yawn.

“You’ve been on this council a month, and you’ve already done something worthy of censure. I knew this would happen! I opposed your admission from the beginning for this very reason!”

“Because I had the college guard do their job?”

“In accordance with the Phoenix Guards Charter, their mission is to safeguard the college and the lives of the ruling council. And yet you took nearly fifty men from this venerable task to gallivant through the desert! What would have happened if another college had attacked while you were gone?”

“Why, I imagine you would have needed to get off your arse for the first time in two hundred years, High Mage Jolsic.”

The old man sputtered, his face almost black now as rage deadened his tongue. After a few seconds of frankly concerning noises coming from his throat, Jolsic finally spat out a damning “how insolent!” before falling silent. Probably recuperating his strength for round two.

“High Mage Ahud, could you please refrain from such petty remarks for the duration of this hearing?” High Mage Benviento said, her gaze boring into Ferez through the half-moon spectacles perched on her nose.

“I will give it a shot, but I make no promises, venerable Treasurer,” Ferez replied with a small bow.

“Gods give me strength,” she muttered, pushing the glasses up as she shook her head. “Despite the vitriol and impressive endurance of High Mage Jolsic’s statement, it is true this event may require censure. You took college guardsmen into land under the jurisdiction of a sovereign nation for the purposes of destroying a criminal enterprise. This violates The Six Cities strict code of neutrality, not to mention has strained diplomatic relations between the city and the Emrinthian Empire, and this college with our sister colleges as a result.”

“And he left us vulnerable!” Jolsic helpfully shouted.

Benviento closed her eyes, a vein throbbing in her forehead as she took a deep breath. “Venerable High Mage, there has not been an instance of violent intra-college conflict in three hundred years.”

“Doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen. Like, that!” the idiot said, snapping his fingers.

“Yes, yes, High Mage. Just like that. Anyway, moving on. High Mage Ahud, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“My actions have precedent. Fifty years ago the college dispatched a contingent of guardsmen along with a team of battlemages to recover Adept Baalga when she was detained by a regional duke in Aderath.”

“Adept Baalga was a member of the college in good standing who was arrested under false pretenses while conducting official business. Also, it was a largely diplomatic operation. They certainly didn’t put the duke and his entire household to the sword and burn down the castle.”

“We didn’t burn down the camp!”

Benviento silently glared until Ferez looked away.

“Not the entire camp, anyway,” he muttered.

“Either way, the use of the guardsman was permissible because she was a member of the college. This… slave girl. Is not.”

“Isn’t she?”

“Absolutely not. She has never set foot in The Six. How could she be considered one of us?”

“Asim,” Ferez said, holding his hand out to the side. His personal guardsman dutifully placed a rolled up parchment in it. With a flourish, Ferez unfurled it and held it before him, though his eyes remained glued to the treasurer as he recited the contents from memory.

“The Six Cities Recruitment Accords, volume one, chapter two, establishment of legal rights and claims for the purposes of-”

“Get to the point, Ahud.”

“The colleges of The Six Cities have a legal claim to guardianship of any magically sensitive or inclined children by virtue of the shared divine blood from which all mages derive their power. In the event of custody disputes, the matter shall be referred to the local magistrate with the college to provide legal counsel et cetera, et cetera.”

“Really? That is your angle? She is a member of the college by blood?”

“That’s the argument we use to send scouts throughout the world taking children from their families, is it not?”

“Never by force, High Mage. Most parents celebrate the opportunities it provides their children.”

“Regardless, it is written in one of our oldest and most sacrosanct documents that we have a guardianship claim for any magically gifted child. A decision to censure or condemn my actions would no doubt undermine this document, and the freedoms and privileges it affords our agents beyond the city’s boundaries.”

Benviento sucked her teeth as her eyes narrowed, but it wasn’t a gaze of anger, more so one of intense concentration. Ferez could tell she was running through dozens of stuffy documents in her mind, cross-referencing and assessing, looking for any indications that his interpretation of a several thousand year old document violated any other several thousand year old documents. Before she could finish, Jolsic piped up again, apparently sufficiently recovered to start his bullshit again.

“Preposterous! Legal shenanigans and law double speak will not save you, and you dishonour this esteemed council by stooping to such tactics. I hereby move to expel Mage Ahud from the Council of High Mages.”

Ferez whistled and raised his eyebrows. “That’s a bold play, old man. Such a vote needs to be unanimous. Do you have the support?”

“We shall see,” Jolsic replied, the skin over his knuckles audibly creaking as he clenched his fist and raised his hand. Another hand, belonging to mage Abrahi, went up almost immediately, followed a long second later by mages Tristienne and Gulliver.

“Sorry, Ferez,” Gulliver said. “I sympathise, but this sets a dangerous precedent. We can’t be seen to run around seizing children by force.”

Tristienne refused to meet Ferez’s gaze. He forced a strained smile to his face and inclined his head, anyway.

“I understand, High Mage.”

Four hands. One still to make her decision. All eyes settled on Benviento. Her hands were steepled, elbows resting on the table as she stared past Ferez, her mind still sifting through countless events and documents, figuring out what the technically correct course of action was. When her eyes refocussed, though, they did not carry the certainty of a decision, but the vaguely perplexed gaze of an old scholar who has realised they don’t have the answer. Slowly, she turned to look back at the raised throne behind the tribunal bench.

Arch Mage Jerome Blackwood sat like a statue, his billowing beard reaching down past his knees, his ornate robes rustling slightly in the breeze blowing through the room before it stilled, as though even the wind awaited his verdict. He was the oldest among the venerable council, pushing the limit of five hundred, though exactly how old he was even he had forgotten. His body was in decline, his form frail and thin, hands shaking slightly as they clutched his ceremonial sceptre. His eyes retained all the spark of youth, however, and his raw magical power was said to exceed even that of the other arch mages.

“Eh, fuck it,” he said finally. “I was going to veto the decision if it passed, anyway. Benviento, you’re the finest treasurer in The Six, and we’re lucky to have your brilliant mind, but how many times have I told you to listen to your intuition? The rest of you? I am deeply disappointed. Ferez stays. I raised him to this council precisely because I expected him to pull shit like this. You overextended, Jolsic. You have leave to go prepare your affairs.”

Jolsic whimpered and stood, then hurried out of the room. He briefly locked eyes with Ferez, and quivered when he saw the younger mage’s predatory smile. According to tradition, Jolsic had committed a grave personal affront by tabling a motion to give Ferez the boot. As such, retaliation was not only permitted, but expected. For a few glorious moments, Ferez’s mind shot through options. He could raid the old wizard’s tower, or his laboratories, and steal his research. He could torch some of his businesses, hurt his coin purse. So long as he didn’t kill anyone, nothing was off the cards.

But that diversion was something off in the future. Right now, he had more pressing matters to concern himself with.

“Thank you, Arch Mage,” Ferez said, bowing deeply to the head of the college.

“Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t finished,” Blackwood snapped. “I understand why you left these cowards out of your plans, but you should have consulted me before taking our guardsmen.”

“I didn’t think the matter worthy of your precious time, Arch Mage.”

“Oh, fuck off. Boot licking isn’t a good look on you, Ferez. While using the guardsman on your own authority isn’t technically against the rules, it’s a grave breach of custom to do so.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Blackwood waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. Just let me know next time, alright?”

“Will do.”

“And I am hereby forbidding you from using the Phoenix Guard to assault Widow’s Wail.”

Ferez blanched. “Sorry, what?”

“You are planning an assault on the pirate stronghold, correct?”

“I… may have been considering it.”

“Figure out another angle. We don’t have enough guardsmen to defeat a stronghold like that.”

“Well, sure. If it was just guardsmen. If we had a cadre of battlemages too, though…”

“Nope.”

“But-”

“Nope.”

“How about-”

“Nope. Now shut up. You have an interesting history overcoming difficult problems, High Mage. I’m sure you can manage now. If not, perhaps Jolsic was right after all?”

Ferez grit his teeth. That had been a low blow. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Good boy. Is there anything else?”

“You said I can’t use the Phoenix Guard-”

“Or our battlemages.”

“Or our battlemages,” Ferez said, nodding his head. “But you didn’t explicitly rule out anything else.”

“I did not. Deliberately so.”

Ferez smiled. Despite the old man’s prickly demeanour, he was throwing him a bone after all. After a split second, Benviento realised the implication as well. She whirled, eyes widening and mouth agape.”

“Arch Mage, surely you aren’t serious?”

“Serious about what, dear Treasurer?”

“Giving Mage Ahud, of all people, carte blanche access to the college’s money? This will be a disaster.”

“Oh, come now. I’m sure Ferez will exercise restraint and good judgment.”

“He doesn’t know the definition of those words!”

“Restraint,” Ferez piped up, “a measure or condition that keeps someone or something under control-”

“Shut up!” Benviento hissed. “Insufferable smartarse.”

“I’m a High Mage now, so, I guess you’d better learn to suffer me.”

Benviento’s retort was cut off at the knees by Blackwood thumping his staff on the floor.

“Enough of this. You bicker like children.”

“He started it-”

“She started it-”

“I said enough!”

Fire flared from the throne, blowing through the Circle Chamber. It was nothing more than a dummy spit, but it still would have been the death of any lesser mages. As it was, the six most powerful mages in the college were silenced, each struggling to endure the lashings of flame. Behind him, Asim casually planted his halberd before him, the Resonance ore in the weapon swallowing the magic before it could harm him.

Lucky bastard. Wish I still had that dagger from Ingrid’s father.

The assault was over in a moment, but it had the desired effect. All bickering had ceased, and the council sat, looking suitably chastised. All except Tristienne who was frantically patting out the fire that had caught the sleeve of her robe.

“Now. Are you all done, or do I need to start spanking people?”

“I think Benviento could do with a cheeky spanking,” Ferez muttered.

Everyone froze, even Tristienne who left the sputtering remnants of her sleeve to burn out. The treasurers face went a deep crimson and her face contorted as she fought with all her will not to bite back.

“Ferez…” Blackwood growled.

Oh, shit.

He had a split second to disperse Talent through his body before the ball of fire crashed into him, propelling him backwards into the Council Chamber door. He gasped as he slammed against the thick wood, then slumped to the ground. He struggled to lift his chin off his chest as his vision swam. Through the haze he could just make out a figure shuffling towards him, accompanied by the unmistakable click clack of the arch mage’s walking cane.

“I admire your gumption, boy. But you still need to learn where the line is. Get out, before my demeanour sours further.”

Ferez finally forced his face up until he was moderately sure he was making eye contact, or close enough to, anyway.

“Certainly, Arch Mage. Asim?”

The guardsman inched around the angry arch mage and hooked his arms under Ferez’s armpits, lifting him off the floor and dragging him backwards out of the chamber.

“Good day, all! I shall return with tales of my exploits!” Ferez called out cheerfully as the chamber guards closed the door behind him.