The Young Magician

yourself very lucky you have not found yourself before the Council already. I am much more forgiving than they are. Such actions could easily result in expulsion, but I would hate to see your potential go to waste. Do not disappoint me like this any more, Samuel.’

Samuel nodded solemnly. ‘Thank you, Grand Master.’

‘You may go.’

Samuel pushed back his chair and stood. He closed the door as gently as he could but, as he strode away from the Grand Master’s chambers, he gritted his teeth and his fists were clenched tight at his sides. He had saved them all that night, but all he had received in return was chastisement for his efforts and not one word of thanks. If this was the reward for his humility, perhaps it was better for him to start showing them exactly how powerful he really was.

That night, Samuel’s dreams were nightmarish, filled with visions he had not experienced for a long time: beasts howling in the wilds; figures charging in with raised fists, and a tall, pale-faced man, always waiting and watching from the doorway. That face filled him with the most terror, as the man in the doorway-evil and monstrous; rejoicing in Samuel’s terror-was controlling the others. All the while, Samuel could hear a sorrowful voice of some boy calling over and over again, calling aloud for someone to find him. The sound was faint, as if the boy had almost faded away completely, drowned by all his sadness.

A familiar-looking magician, lean and tall, with skin of brown came striding over as Samuel was raking half- heartedly at some leaves by the smooth school walls.

‘Lomar!’ Samuel called, carrying his rake over to meet the man.

‘Hello, Samuel,’ Lomar said, granting a warm smile. ‘How you have grown since I saw you last! You’ll be towering over me soon-and going well in your studies, too, I hear.’

‘Yes,’ Samuel agreed. ‘Only a little trouble with some of the Adept, but nothing I cannot deal with.’

‘So I hear, too,’ Lomar said with laughter. ‘I’m glad we found you first.’

‘I’ve had some offers,’ Samuel admitted.

‘Balthazar?’ Lomar asked.

‘Of course,’ Samuel said with a grin. ‘He accosts me almost every time I go into the city.’

‘He has a way of being a nuisance. Still, you seem to have learned how to handle him.’

Samuel nodded. ‘He seems harmless enough.’

‘And I trust the Adept will not be bullying you any further?’

Samuel shook his head. ‘From what the Grand Master says, they nearly wet themselves.’

Lomar laughed long and loud. He was wearing a simple pair of trousers and a lace-up shirt. Both had been bleached almost grey by the sun. With his dark skin and worn clothes, he could probably pass as one of the dock workers hailing from the Spice Islands, although his blood was obviously of a different origin.

‘I think it was right of you to teach them a lesson, Samuel. They have only a short time left here in the school and, if they haven’t grown out of their bullying by now, then they will make terrible magicians. Which reminds me, the graduation is only a few weeks away. Are you ready?’

‘Hmm, not quite,’ Samuel replied. ‘I mean, I’m confident that I’ll make Adept, but I’ve been practising a few tricks that still need a little work.’

‘Well, nothing that will embarrass the teachers, I hope.’

‘Not the ones I like, anyway.’

Lomar laughed and shook his head. ‘Well, I’m sorry that I won’t be there to see it, but I have a lot of road before me.’

‘Really?’ Samuel asked. ‘Where are you going, now?’

‘I cannot tell you, Samuel. Suffice to say that it’s lucky that I can speak a little Garten.’ He winked.

‘Don’t they speak any Turian up there?’ Samuel asked.

At that, Lomar laughed. ‘No, not at all. Turian is spoken only here in the Empire. If you spoke the Emperor’s tongue there, you would certainly be beaten or have something you value chopped off. Even in some of the outlying areas of the Empire the people still resist using the common tongue.’

Samuel hmm’ed and nodded. ‘How many languages do you know then?’ Samuel asked, leaning on his rake handle.

Lomar thought a moment. ‘Oh…let me see. Turian, some Garten, Old Tongue of course, a dialect or two from the desert folk and several variants of Kabushy.’

‘Kabushy?’

‘That is correct,’ Lomar responded with a slight smile. ‘Kabushy is my mother tongue. I’m sure you realised I am no native Turian. Do you want to hear some Kabushy? Some people say it’s a rattling language, but I think it sounds rather musical.’

‘Yes, of course’ Samuel said with an enthusiastic nod.

‘Sama habala eh tettu a kunna,’ Lomar said.

Samuel laughed so hard he dropped his rake and nearly fell over. ‘That sounds ridiculous! What does it mean?’

‘Roughly, it means, “may the water god protect you”.’

‘Are you trying to trick me?’

Lomar shook his head in all seriousness. ‘Life is hard in Kabush. It’s an enormous delta, filled with marshland and swamps. There is a lot of water, which can be both a blessing and a curse. There are also many gods in Kabush. They are very important in my culture.’

‘You worship gods?’ Samuel asked in disbelief.

‘I occasionally say a prayer or two, but it’s mainly from habit. My people are very religious-not like you dry- footed infidels,’ he added with a grin. ‘I don’t really follow any of my people’s religions any more, but I admit I still revert to some of my old habits from time to time. It can’t hurt, after all. You probably don’t know it, but Amandia had many popular religions until the Emperor erased most of them. The Turian church he established is little more than another outlet to spread Imperial ideals. He is quite set on the fact that everyone only worships him, so I believe.’

‘Shh!’ Samuel urged his tall friend. ‘I’m sure talk like that is not such a good idea.’

Lomar laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I am not such a fool as to let anyone hear. So what of your studies? How are they faring?’

‘Not too poorly, even if I say so myself. I can use the Old Tongue quite fluently now,’ Samuel said. He took up his rake again and scraped half-heartedly at some yellowed leaves that were skittering away with the breeze. ‘I remember learning my first phrase when I was at the Burning Oak, but at the time I had no idea what it was.’

‘I have heard the story from Master Kelvin.’

‘Then you know what happened to me then? At first, I thought it was the words themselves that held the power. Then, as I learned more of the Old Tongue, I realised their true meaning. “I am one with the universe. The universe and I are everything and nothing-everything and nothing, as one, together.” They were just words, and it was I that gave them power, not the other way around, as I thought. They merely helped me to centre my thoughts.’

‘Wise words from someone so young. I hope you continue along your current path, Samuel.’

‘But do any words truly contain magic?’ Samuel asked. ‘There have been few lessons on the topic.’

‘As with all things, there is power in form. Some words have a form that is more powerful than others. They resonate with the ether to give lend to what we call magic. We have a fairly good ability to detect the power of words. For instance, in all the languages that I know, the words for “hate” are harsh and abrasive sounding, while those for “love” are usually gentler in tone. Apart from that, there is little more power in words than the meaning they convey.’

‘What about the Ancient Lick?’ Samuel asked.

‘You know about the Lick?’ Lomar said with surprise.

‘Only very little. I came across a few notes in the library, but there seems to be very little on the subject. It is a lost language. Every word contained immense power.’

‘The ravings of madmen,’ Lomar said dismissively. ‘The Lick was not lost; it was buried. It still exists, but only