Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) (28 page)

BOOK: Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two)
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They walked a ways deeper into the
Rune
Tower
before Justan caught up to him. “Alfred, where are we going?”

 

The gnome continued to stride quickly forward, ignoring the question.

 

“Oh, so is the game held in a secret location? Am I not supposed to tell anyone?”

 

Alfred glanced back briefly and gave Justan an annoyed twitch of his eyebrows, but otherwise said nothing.

 

“So . . . am I not supposed to talk . . . here . . . then?”

 

Alfred simply upped the pace and Justan gave up asking questions. He followed behind the gnome in silence.

 

They traveled past many doors and hallways until Alfred started up a curving stairwell that Justan had never been allowed admittance to before. At the top of the stairs was a gilded door with a crystal knob that entered into a long, elaborately decorated hallway.

 

The floor was covered in a plush red carpet that stretched the hall’s entire length. There were flameless torches mounted into the wall every ten feet that bathed the hallway in a soft glow. Magnificent paintings hung between each of these lights.

 

On the right side of the hallway, each painting was a portrait of a named wizard. Justan could tell because each one stood with the left hand raised palm out showing the rune on their hand. On the left were portraits of a long line of named warriors. It was obvious to Justan that these warriors had not posed for the paintings because there was not as much detail to their faces as in the wizard’s paintings. However, Justan could plainly see the detail on the runes on the back of their right hands as well as on the weapons each warrior held.

 

He felt a thrill shoot through him as he looked at these glorious people of times past. How wonderful would it be to have his own portrait hung in a hallway like this with such a rune on his hand? He thought of Sir Hilt and Master Latva with their sheer power and confidence and laughed inside at his audacity for considering such a thing.

 

Justan began to wonder why the wizards decorated the entrance to their game room so elaborately when the hallway opened up into a round room with one door on the end. There were cushioned benches lining the wall around the room and Alfred stopped and gestured for Justan to sit on one of them. The gnome then exited through the door at the end of the room and left Justan alone.

 

Justan barely registered the gnome’s departure for he was busy gazing about the room in awe. If the hallway had been decorated elaborately, this room contained a level of extravagance Justan had never imagined.

 

Every inch of the walls was lined in gold or silver. The ceiling stretched twenty feet overhead and was covered in intricate carvings so small that Justan could not register what they were all about without taking time to look at each and every one.

 

Moments after he sat down, the door opened with a gust of air and Professor Beehn wheeled himself into the room. Justan looked at him in surprise, first wondering how he had come up all of those stairs and then noticing what the wizard was wearing. Beehn wore fancy bright yellow robes that seemed to be made of silk lined with gold at the edges.

 

“Justan, I am so glad to see you here,” the wizard said, beaming.

 

“It is good to see you too, Professor. Why are you so dressed up? I didn’t realize that the game would be so formal. I could have worn my better robe.”

 

“Game?”
Beehn asked, puzzled.

 

“Yes, Master Latva told me that he was going to teach me Unity today,” Justan said.

 

“Oh, that.” Professor Beehn waved his hand absently. “Unity can wait for another day.  Today is the day that we are calling the new apprentices. There were only going to be five this year, but after the tournament the other day we decided to make it six.”

 

Justan’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean it?”

 

“Yes!” Beehn laughed. “We voted on it and decided that you are ready. You are right about one thing though. You can’t be called as an apprentice in that ragged robe. There are traditions to uphold after all! Come, follow me,” the wizard said and led Justan through the door into a short hallway. They entered another door on the right that led into a rather plain room with a short wooden bench, a closet and a washbasin.

 

The professor asked Justan to clean up in the basin while he wheeled himself over to the closet. When Justan was finished, the wizard handed him a clean set of bright white robes.

 

“Put these on. Don’t bother with your shoes. The only thing you are allowed to bring in with you is your ceremonial dagger. Do you have it with you? You will need it.” Justan nodded. “Good. Now hurry, the others are waiting for you.”

 

“But, wait!” Suddenly Justan felt nervous. This was a big thing and he didn't feel prepared. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I mean, I've done a lot of research, and the books that I have found on the subject refer to the elevation ceremony on the day that one becomes an apprentice, but they don't give any detail. What is going to happen in there?”

 

“Ah.” The portly wizard grinned mischievously. “Those are the questions that every cadet has. We purposely keep the books with that information in the Faculty Library for just that reason. Don’t worry. None of the students know what to do until they get in there. Now come along.”

 

Justan belted on his ceremonial dagger with a white sash and followed the professor. They left the room and went through a door at the end of the short hallway. Justan entered with an open mind but he was not prepared for what awaited him in the next room.

 

The room was huge, nearly as big as the library, stretching into a dome far above him. There were no windows, for the room was deep inside of the
Rune
Tower
, but flameless candles shone brightly on unending tiers of chandeliers hanging from the arched ceiling. Ancient statues of even more named warriors and wizards lined the walls of the room, each one of them a work of beauty in and of itself.

 

Something about the statues and chandeliers pricked something in his memory. He had read about this room. Justan’s heart skipped a beat. This was the Hall of Majesty. This was the room where the naming ceremonies were performed.

 

Suddenly, it made sense, the
ornateness
of this part of the
Rune
Tower
, the paintings of named warriors and wizards on the walls. Every named warrior or wizard in all the lands had undertaken a long searching journey to become named. For each of them that journey culminated in this room, where they performed the naming ceremonies.

 

With the realization of where he was, Justan's nervous feelings about being thrust into the situation without warning were tempered with a sense of sacredness. He was in too much awe to be nervous now. Peace gently settled over him and he was able to calm down.

 

Every member of the High Council was present and all were wearing robes just as ornate as Professor
Beehn’s
. Even Valtrek was there. A shiver shot down Justan’s spine as he saw the wizard that he so mistrusted. He knew that Valtrek was a member of the council, but he had only seen the man a handful of times since his arrival at the school and he hadn’t expected to see him today. Justan pushed down his emotions. He refused to let Valtrek’s presence take away from the mix of peace and anticipation he felt.

 

The floor of the room was paved in smooth stones and was uncovered except for a row of six small round white rugs that lay in front of the council, five of which were already occupied by a kneeling student. Professor Beehn motioned and Justan padded over to the unoccupied one.

 

As Professor Beehn took his place with the other members of the council, Justan began to kneel like the others, but he caught a glimpse of something that nearly made him fall over. Behind the High Council members stood a marble pedestal on top of which sat a large golden bowl filled halfway with water.

 

There it was, the Bowl of Souls. He recognized it from drawings in the books and had hoped to see it with his own eyes one day, but he had never thought that he would see it so soon.

 

As soon as Justan composed himself and knelt properly, Master Latva raised his left hand, the rune on his palm glaring forth like a beacon. His tone of voice was formal.

 

“The six of you are here today because you have been found worthy of the office of Apprentice. Undoubtedly, some of you are wondering what it is that you have done to make you worthy of this advancement. The answer is different for each one of you. Suffice it to say that you have impressed the council with both your advancement in the study of magic and desire for continued growth.

 

“You are probably also wondering what this ceremony will entail and why we are holding it in such an auspicious setting as the Hall of Majesty. In truth, the ceremony itself is a simple one and consists mainly of oaths made to the council and the
Mage
School
. You will be led through it step by step as we go.” He gestured towards one of the other wizards. “Professor Auger, the Council Historian will explain the history behind the office of Apprentice.”

 

Professor Auger, a narrow hawk-nosed man with thinning hair stepped forward. Wizard Auger was probably the most boring teacher at the school and all of the students dreaded his classes. Justan found the subject matter of magic history very fascinating, but the man had a knack for teaching with such a dull voice that Justan had once caught himself nodding off during a lesson on one of the greatest magic battles of all time. Kneeling here in the Hall of Majesty was probably the first time that any of the cadets in the room had ever looked forward to hearing what the man had to say.

 

Professor Auger cleared his throat, clasped his hands behind his back and spoke in his trademark nasal drone, “The office of Apprentice is an ancient tradition in magic. It has been in use since long before the concept of the
Mage
School
was ever dreamt up. In the days when man first learned of his capacity for magical power, a person born with the talent had to learn how to use it by himself.

 

“This proved most disastrous and there was much chaos and confusion at the time as these wild and untrained men and women, known as warlocks, caused havoc throughout the world. Their magic was undisciplined and threatened to tear the very fabric of society.

 

“The age of warlocks died out as people who had truly mastered their power, known as wizards, began the practice of seeking out those born with the power and taking them under their wing as apprentices. This was the way of training wizards for centuries before the Mage Schools were formed.

 

“Since that time, the concept of apprenticeship in the magic arts has changed a bit. Now, as the responsibilities of wizards have changed in the world and we have less time to train a student personally, all students start as cadets and only those who obtain a certain level of responsibility are allowed to become apprentices.”

 

Justan had read about most of this before and found the concept of lone wizards roaming through the lands taking on apprentices to be a nostalgic one. He had always been taught in large classrooms with other students. The rare times that he had been taught on a one on one basis were the times in his life when he had learned most effectively. Suddenly he looked forward to being an apprentice in magic and having a more personal student-teacher relationship.

 

Wizard Auger continued, “We have held the Apprenticeship Ceremony in the Hall of Majesty ever since the
Rune
Tower
was created, and even before the concept of being named was introduced. In fact, we use the Hall of Majesty for several major ceremonies in a wizard’s development.

 

“For each stage in your growth, you will enter this room and stand before the Bowl of Souls to take your oaths. Hopefully, you will come back into this room again when you are found worthy of the office of Mage, then later to be called as a Wizard and perhaps you may be even one of the lucky few to stand before the Bowl of Souls a final time to become a Named Wizard.”

 

The professor stopped as abruptly as he began and stepped back with the other council members. Master Latva then stood forward again, his eye’s twinkling with that inner youth they always projected.

 

“Today, you enter this place for your own apprenticeship. This calling is as important now as it had ever been in the past. Today you will take important oaths and sometime in the next two days a wizard will choose you as his personal apprentice. This wizard will become your master and you will be bound to follow all of his instructions to the letter. This will be your duty until he declares to the council that you are worthy to become a Mage and learn of things for yourself once more.

 

“Due to the nature of a Wizard’s duties today, we are all very busy. Therefore, you will not be with your master day and night as the apprentices did in the past, but only as much as he or she sees fit for your growth and development. This means that the time you spend away from your Master will most likely be spent attending regular classes with the other students. It is all up to your master’s discretion.”

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