The Young Magician

often divine the future long before it actually happens. Some of you may even have the ability to do this, but it is not a skill that we make a habit of developing, so it remains dormant in most of us. Some may have a hint of the gift, seeing current, future or past events in their dreams, but all recollection of such is lost with the coming of morning.

‘You may have heard that I am considered the most capable seer in the modern world and, as far as I know, I am. I foretold the Great Rat Infestation of Glentody, the Battle of Raven Fields and many other things.’ He was obviously very proud of himself. ‘Before we begin learning the theory, however, I would like to make a demonstration.’ He held out a palm and closed his eyes, appearing deep in thought and Eric gave Samuel a look of amusement. ‘I am quite sensitive to detecting other seers, so I shall see if we have any talent here today,’ Celios announced.

He stepped nearer to the students, keeping his eyes shut and holding one palm out towards them. ‘Yes, yes. I can feel something over here. The pattern is definitely aligned to a potential seer or two.’

Eric guffawed and poked Samuel in the ribs, for Master Celios was making a grand fool of himself, almost tripping himself up on his robe hems as he strode back and forth, holding his palm out towards everyone. Samuel could not help but snigger in return and when he looked up, Master Celios was glaring down upon him with a very unamused expression.

‘I’m sure you would like to be gifted as a seer, young Samuel,’ Celios called out irritably, ‘but you’re not! Young Master Pot here is brimming with far more talent than you.’ Samuel could not help but laugh again as he looked at Master Celios’ puffed and reddened cheeks. ‘Why the nerve!’ Celios roared out. ‘Come with me!’

Master Celios bent over and snatched up Samuel by the earlobe, as his mother had been fond of doing long ago, and dragged him out of his seat and into the aisle.

‘Ow! Ow!’ Samuel complained with his eyes squeezed closed in pain. When he thought his ear was about to be torn clear off, it was suddenly released, and he began rubbing his ear furiously to get the life back into it.

‘Young Master Samuel,’ Celios called out, now bearing a smug grin. The other Adept looked greatly amused at Samuel’s plight. Eric had both hands over his mouth to hold his laughter and Goodfellow bore an amused grin. ‘You are obviously so sure of yourself that you don’t mind disrupting my class. Why don’t we all see what kind of ability you really have?’ Samuel tried to object, but Celios would have none of it. ‘I shall act as an intermediate,’ Celios told him, ‘and you say the first thing that comes to your mind. No nonsense, mind you-and if you make any more fun of my class, I’ll have a switch taken to your buttocks faster than you can blink. Don’t think for a moment that you’re too old to learn some good manners!’

Samuel nodded, with no choice but to take part in Master Celios’ display.

Celios clasped his hands together into a matrix of power and began summoning his magic, and then Samuel saw the teacher’s spell take form. It swept out and enveloped him, cool against his skin.

‘Concentrate now,’ Celios instructed. ‘Close your eyes if you like.’ Samuel did. He hoped to get this over with and return to his seat as quickly as possible. ‘Now, speak. What do you see? What can you see through the clouds of time?’

Samuel opened his mouth and began to say the first thing that came to mind. It was strange because, with the aid of Master Celios’ spell, he thought he could see some images beginning to form in his mind. They were vague at first, but as he focused upon them, scenes began to appear in his mind’s eye-shapes and hues shifting against each other, slowly congealing into discernable forms.

‘I see Master Sanctus,’ Samuel began.

‘Good,’ Celios’ voice responded. ‘What is he doing?’

Samuel heard the faintest chuckle and decided to put a quick end to this embarrassment. He peeked one eye open and could see the whole class was full of mirthful grins. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes once again, Samuel concentrated upon the ghostly images. ‘He is dancing with a beautiful girl-laughing and dancing and spinning in circles. Oh, wait. He’s dancing with many beautiful girls-all at once. Quite wildly, in fact. He seems to be having a grand old time.’ At that, Samuel heard a few sniggers come from the class. ‘That’s all,’ he finished irritably. ‘It’s gone,’ he finished and opened his eyes.

‘Well then, young Samuel,’ Celios said. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing merry Master Sanctus doing a jolly old jig, being the spry old soul he is.’ The students all roared with laughter again. ‘I don’t know what, if anything, came to your mind, but the first skill of divination is the separation of fact from fantasy. Now, back to your seat and, if possible, could you not disturb my class any further?’

Samuel returned to his seat, red-faced, and Eric Pot slapped him on the back with mirth.

‘Now, now, students,’ Celios called from the front of the hall and the hoots of laughter slowly subsided back into silence. ‘That’s enough amusement for one day. Now, we shall continue with some theory.’

As Master Celios began sorting through his pages, Samuel’s head began to swim around. He gripped onto the seat back in front of him and tried to steady himself, but the room seemed to be revolving and contorting all around him.

‘Samuel?’ Goodfellow whispered, but Samuel could not answer.

The Great Hall flashed from his view and was replaced by darkness. Samuel could feel his stomach rise up into his throat and the warm contents fill his mouth. He tried to raise his hands, but he found himself formless and weightless, now hanging in the sky over Cintar. He looked all around in his vision as black-winged shapes filled the air below and enormous sinister forms strode through the streets, pounding down the buildings and walls with enormous fists. Spells and missiles flew up from the smoking city as all around, a great battle was waged between man and-something else. Samuel’s attention was drawn by a sudden, soundless flash from the palace and, as he watched on, the High Tower cracked at the base and slowly toppled over onto the city, sending up immense plumes of dust and debris in all directions. Three figures loomed tall over the landscape, looking on with murderous indifference. They were ageless beings and their shadows began to stretch across the lands.

‘Samuel?’ Goodfellow asked again. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Oh,’ said Samuel, turning to his friend, quite startled. ‘Yes. Yes, I’m all right. I just felt giddy for a moment.’ Wisps of Master Celios’ spell still clung to his mind. That was the only explanation for what he had just experienced.

Goodfellow nodded. ‘That can happen. It should pass quickly.’

‘I hope so.’ He could still taste the bitter contents of his stomach in his mouth.

‘Samuel!’ Celios roared out. ‘If you cannot hold your tongue and pay attention I shall organise yet another demonstration for you before the principal!’

Samuel sat up straight and tried to pay attention as his uneasy stomach slowly settled and the rest of the afternoon passed ever so slowly before Master Celios’ stern gaze.

When the lecture was finished, the Adept all filed outside.

‘Are you feeling better?’ Goodfellow asked.

Samuel nodded back. ‘Yes, it’s passed. I wish Master Celios had warned me beforehand that divination could make you feel so bad.’

Eric Pot laughed. ‘I think that’s part of his punishment, Samuel.’

‘What do you think of it,’ Samuel asked his two friends. ‘Divination, I mean. If you can see it in your mind, do you think it will come true?’

Goodfellow smiled a little as he replied. ‘I really don’t think so, Samuel. As Master Celios explained, our heads are literally full of scenes and pictures. The real skill is in picking the truth from the fantasy.’

‘It’s just…’ Samuel began, ‘It’s just that it felt so real. It wasn’t like a memory or a dream. It was like I was actually there.’

‘That was Master Celios,’ Goodfellow explained. ‘His spell was to aid you and make your thoughts more tangible.’

‘So do you think Master Sanctus will really manage to dance with all those beautiful girls, Samuel?’ Eric asked with a great grin. ‘I didn’t think he had it in him.’

Samuel shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said distantly, for he was in deep thought and had hardly heard what Eric had said. He was not at all concerned with the vision of old Master Sanctus, for his mind was on the other scene he had witnessed-the dark things over the city, the hulking forms in the streets; they filled him with dread.

‘Come on. I’m starving,’ Eric said, sniffing loudly to detect any hint of roasting dinner on the air. ‘Let’s go find something to eat.’