The Young Magician

With that, her ladies helped her up and she and her entourage filed from the room with General Ruardin striding out beside her.

The various nobles and ministers each took the opportunity to introduce themselves to Samuel, for it seemed he had developed quite a reputation after felling Ash. They were all smiles as they shook his hand and offered their congratulations and assurances of support. Slowly they left the room, followed by the remaining officials, until Lomar, Master Glim and Samuel were left alone, standing beside the long table.

‘Well,’ Master Glim said. ‘That went well.’

‘Yes,’ Lomar agreed.

‘What does the Grand Master think of this,’ Samuel asked.

‘Well, we haven’t exactly had time to tell him,’ Master Glim explained. ‘But if we prepare him enough, and tell it the right way, just maybe he won’t lose his temper and explode.’

‘I doubt it,’ Lomar added with a grin. ‘I think he will have a fit either way.’

‘Perhaps, but I believe I heard mention of a celebration,’ Master Glim said.

‘Preparation is well under way,’ Lomar informed with a smug smile. ‘Tonight, the Empress will take her vows and choose her ministers. Mourning for the late Emperor shall end and then there will be a great celebration. The entire city will herald the beginning of a new era and the palace grounds will host the greatest event of recent times.’

‘It sounds wonderful,’ Samuel said. And, indeed, it was.

That evening, as magicians’ spells coloured the night sky, Samuel stood with his closest friends-Grand Master Anthem, Lomar, Master Glim, Eric Pot and Eric Goodfellow-and marvelled at the crackling explosions and lights that sounded above them. The Imperial Engineers had prepared a host of rockets and they whistled up above the city to explode and shower the city with shimmering embers. The sounds and smells made the rockets as thrilling as any magician’s efforts. Several magicians were trying to outdo the display and had set the sky afire with all manner of glittering and streaking spells that crossed and hung in the sky.

The palace grounds were covered in tents, pavilions, ribbons and decorations, with music and singing coming from every corner. Soldiers, ministers and courtiers alike rubbed shoulders and clinked their cups together with merriment. With so many men present, serving girls, maids and ladies of the court were precious commodities and all barely had a breath to spare as partner after partner swung them around to the joyful melodies.

Empress Lillith had strictly forbidden any magician to appear in his robes or any form of black on this occasion, marking them as too dark and sombre, and so the younger men of the Order had gone out of their way to wear as brightly, and ridiculously coloured threads as they could find. Never before had such bright reds, blues, yellows and greens been seen in such stripes, circles and swirls! It seemed that years of monotony had resulted in the most colourful burst of imagination that each magician could muster, and they did it well.

Many of the older magicians could not break their age-old habits and gathered on the border of the celebration, still in their drab magicians’ robes, but nonetheless smiling and tapping their toes. The Empress declared that they should at least have a coloured ribbon around their waists, and they each submitted to that with only a slight grumbling.

Eric danced with as many young ladies as he could, but Samuel noticed he had settled for one particularly fair lass while the night was young.

‘I see young Eric still has a little fire left in him,’ Lomar mentioned to Samuel as they watched the pair embrace. ‘I wonder how young Master Goodfellow is faring?’

Samuel glanced around and found his other friend talking to a group of young apprentices, deep in conversation. ‘He’s never been one for romance. He’s always been logical and precise, so I’m not sure he will even notice the change when it comes upon him.’

‘And what about you, Samuel? Will you make the most of your youth while you still can?’

‘No,’ Samuel replied forlornly. ‘That’s not for me. I think that part of my life has finished. I thought I would feel better once I killed Ash, but I don’t. Strangely, I still love Leila as much as ever, even though I know she is gone. I still think about her every moment, even now.’

Lomar nodded. ‘Perhaps time will help to heal your sorrow. I can’t know what you must be feeling, but I can advise that you do your best to think about the future and forget your woes. Life must go on and heavy days lie ahead. We have much left to do.’

‘Of course, you’re right,’ Samuel said to his friend.

‘Go on, have a dance,’ Lomar urged. ‘You’re too young to give in to bitterness just yet.’

Samuel nodded and took a few breaths in preparation, for he felt his friend was quite right. He latched onto the hand of a passing young lady, who was red-faced and panting, and dragged her back into the dance from which she had just barely escaped. His melancholy began to shed with each moment as he lost himself in the merriment and shook loose his woes. He spun, danced and laughed with the young lady, and each step felt lighter than the last. He could barely believe he had done it. He had finally killed Ash-the man who had stood by and watched as his men had murdered Samuel’s entire family; the monster who had killed Leila; the man who had filled his nightmares for all these years. Finally, Samuel realised he did feel better. A weight seemed to have lifted from his shoulders and he felt the ghosts of his past could finally be at peace.

‘We did it!’ Samuel cried out with joy, as Grand Master Anthem came into view, skipping past him with a maiden on either arm. ‘He’s gone!’

The old Grand Master looked equally happy and carried on merrily by. ‘I know, lad! I know! Wonderful, isn’t it! After all these years, we’ve done it!’ But perhaps the old man was thinking about something else altogether.

After all the dancing, Samuel finally had to stop and catch his breath and he let his partner stagger off to rest. Despite his merriment, an uneasiness still nagged at him. His magic had not yet returned and he was beginning to think that something within him may have been damaged beyond repair.

Forget all that, he finally told himself, feeling the reassuring presence of the ancient ring tucked firmly into his pocket. With this, he could destroy a mountain if he chose to. Tonight is for celebration!

‘Come on, lad!’ cried old Master Sanctus, swinging past Samuel with a young lass in his arms. ‘What have you got to be so sour about? Kick up your heels!’

Samuel could not help but laugh at the sight and, with that, the old magician cackled with glee and continued spinning off through the crowd. All the while, the girl was giggling herself to tears in his wiry, old arms and making a great show of trying to escape him.

A moment had barely passed before Samuel’s hand was grabbed by another flushed-cheeked young lady and he, too, was pulled away to rejoin the dance, lost in the music, laughter and fun.

The entire city celebrated that night, and the music and singing and the booms of rockets floated over the great city walls and echoed far out into the waiting harbour. Flashes of light lit up the bobbing wave-tops as each rocket burst into bloom above the palace. The resulting pops and crackles, muted by the distance, took their time ambling out over the battered rocks-still cluttered with the broken splinters of the Merry Widow from years before. The sea might have fallen back into complete darkness between those explosions, if not for the constant, many- coloured glows of magic emanating from the city. From here, the docks and the city walls and the palace towers themselves seemed to be shining jewels set into the blackness, surrounded by the lilting music that rose and fell as it twirled upon the wind. For the time being at least, Cintar was a beacon in the void, separated from the dark of night by little more than mirth, and the gentle caress of the magicians’ lights.