The Melaki Chronicle (2 page)

Melaki's frustration came rushing back.

The scribe straightened and turned. His hair was long and
loose, not oiled like most. It was also snow white, though the face not lined
as nearly as his hair would suggest. “You know that initiates using magic is
forbidden. Need I remind you of the punishment?”

“I was just trying to calm myself.” Anger edged his words
and his fists clenched involuntarily. But he was not mad at Enshar and the old
scribe knew it, too.

Enshar pursed his lips and regarded Melaki like an unusual
problem. "I imagine I am to give you duties to reinforce your shame at
failing the tests so many times. But that has not worked, has it? Come with
me.”

Melaki followed the Scribe into his private study and sat in
the chair to which he was waved.

“Now, let us approach this a different way. Describe to me
your own assessment of your failure.” Without waiting for a reply, Enshar
leaned back and began tamping tobacco into his ivory pipe.

No one at the Rukha had ever asked Melaki for his own
opinion. Other than academic arguments over spirit magic and giant magic, his
reasons were never asked for or considered. In the moment it took Enshar to
light his pipe using magic, he made up his mind to expose his reason. “I see
visions.”

Enshar froze. One eye looked his way while the other
seemingly remained on his pipe. The silence stretched.

Melaki fidgeted. He wondered if he had made a mistake. Had
he violated some unknown law of this Imperium that he had yet to learn?

“Visions.” The word came out as a grunt.

He nodded quickly. The frustration was rising in him, and
anxiety, too. He closed his eyes and tried to stop his ragged breathing.
Focusing inward, he pushed at what he imagined his anxiety might look like
inside. He pushed harder and herded the ugly beast back into a cage. Shutting
the cage door and locking it, he concentrated on his breathing. Yes, it was
calm. He opened his eyes.

Enshar's lips were pursed in anger and Melaki knew he had
tapped magic in calming himself. Another failure.

With a swift motion, Enshar jerked a box from the shelf and
flipped open the lid. With angry fingers, he plucked from the box a block of
incense. Using spirit magic, he lit the block and blew on it until it produced
a steady stream of fragrance. Setting down his pipe, he held his hand over
Melaki's head and blew incense into his face.

“I--” Melaki said.

“Silence! I will induce a vision within you. I will see the
end to this failure of yours, one way or the other.” He drove his gaze into
Melaki's eyes.

The room swam as he listened to Enshar mutter words of
magic. The scribe was enticing the spirits and exerting control on Melaki. His
ears began to ring and his mouth went dry. The room went black and sounds came
to him as if he were at the end of a long underground tunnel. But this was
different from his other visions. Something was here with him. Abruptly, he was
watching a blood sacrifice. The change from tunnel to altar wrenched his being.
His stomach lurched. With another wrenching change, he stood atop a mountain on
the Altanlean coast as the entire world shook and heaved. Buildings crumbled
and the ground rent. The ocean appeared to rush in. One last abrupt change and
he was underwater, in the ocean, sinking.

In a panic, he flailed out, striking at the vision. He
became aware he was convulsing in his chair and struggling to breathe. With a
heave, he coughed up a small plume of saltwater that drenched the front of his
white robe. Gasping, he blinked until his vision was clear.

Enshar sat staring at him, a look of suspicious wonder on
his face. “I saw it.”

“That's why I am failing. Spirit magic will bring a curse
upon the land. How can I embrace the wards when I know what it will bring?”

Enshar sat back, a troubled furrow to his brow. “We do not
know that. The vision might only be relating a sequence of events as a
timeline, not a causatory string.”

“But you saw--”

“What I saw is open to interpretation. How do you know you
can read your own visions correctly? We have over a thousand years of
beneficial magic as provided by the spirit use. Suddenly it is a curse?” He
picked up his pipe, but only looked at it. Instead of puffing it, he stood up.
“Walk with me.”

Melaki followed him back out into the library. Enshar led
him into the wizard's study area to the shelving containing writings not meant
for initiates. The old scribe tapped his fingers along the shelves until he
tapped a larger bundle. Withdrawing it carefully, he placed it in Melaki's
hands.

“Those are the writings of Danluk on visions. He died almost
ninety years ago, but none were considered more knowledgeable than he. In there
you will find his methods for bringing visions, controlling them, and
interpreting what you see. Return that to me in the morning.”

“Danluk? The great visionary? I've heard of him--”

“Yes, of course. We all have.” Enshar waved him off.

“My appreciation, Scribe,” he said excitedly.

Enshar nodded his acceptance and left Melaki alone.

With a burning curiosity, Melaki walked quickly to his small
room. He had much reading to get done.

*  *  *

Talin watched through lidded eyes as the initiate scurried
towards his room. In his arms were bundled old scrolls the likes of which not
seen in the arms of initiates.

His earlier near collision notwithstanding, Talin began to
wonder if his search for a suitable aide might not need be so discerning.

He nodded slowly.

Now to see if the fool can pass the tests.

*  *  *

Danluk had been a maverick. The thought occurred to Melaki
over and over as he fell asleep. The scroll contained the fine etchings of
Danluk's hand and revealed many types of visions, some Melaki would have
ignored. Danluk also talked about inducing visions, something he found
fascinating. He slept fitfully, dreaming of scrolls and visions and concepts.
He tossed and dreamed of more visions, none real in the waking sense.

He awoke to the morning gong, bothered and exhausted.
Something nagged at him from Danluk's observations. But what? What could
possibly be so important? Melaki already had visions. He already knew how they
came and went.

After washing, he slumped into his chair considering the
parchment as his fingers idly traced the scroll bar. Foremost in his mind was
that Danluk had been able to induce visions using different methods. Nothing
else perturbed Melaki. But why was that sticking in his mind? Why was this one
aspect of Danluk's observations tormenting him?

He knew he needed to present himself for breakfast. Missing
breakfast was not necessarily against the rules, but initiates were expected to
do things a certain way. He reached for his silver belt and froze. He should
have viewed that silver belt as a status symbol, but it was a curse - a
reminder that no other initiate had ever worn that belt for as long as he had.

But, initiates were expected to do things a certain way.

Danluk found other ways to induce vision.

Of course! Could it be so simple?

Nihtu had muttered that giant magic used symbols and
patterns. A complex spell required a pattern within the mind. He had also said
the pattern was not important, it was only a focus. Could it have been there
all this time? The answer? Maybe he was as incredibly dense as his scribes
claimed.

Focusing inward, he contemplated a pattern for light, one of
the spells of the first ward. The pattern formed in his mind and he traced it
in the air. Light burst forth in a ball above his hand. He had done this
before. But what he needed to do now was to make the somatic movements appear
as if he were invoking spirit magic.

*  *  *

Mage of the Third Ward Agak considered the eating hall as
the initiates ate in silence. He was Altanlean by birth and patient. He knew he
held position higher than any initiate here by virtue of his black robe. But as
he fingered his silver Imperium wizard's medallion, he could see many of the
initiates casting furtive glances his way. They were expecting him to do
something regarding Melaki's absence and he did not want to appear weak.

With a resigned sigh, he tapped the shoulder of an initiate
eating his breakfast of eggs and corn meal. “Go and return with Senior Initiate
Melaki.”

The initiate scrambled up and hurried from the breakfast
chamber.

While not against any rules, missing breakfast was not how
the Rukha operated. Initiates were expected to adhere to the rules and customs
as this provided rote and familiarity. Melaki was a problem. Though he was a
senior initiate, he consistently failed all of his practical testing. He
certainly passed all written and oral forms of test, but not the practical
application of magic. Further, he was not Altanean by birth. While birth did
not reserve special dispensation, by being born outside Altanles, Melaki could
easier be disposed of by sacrifice and some use made of the Imperium's effort
in his teaching. The Altanlean god Amtar would not disapprove. Perhaps he
should speak with Headmistress Renta and suggest sacrifice as a way to tidy up
this Melaki issue...

“Sorrow, Wizard Agak.” The initiate sent to retrieve Melaki
had returned. Alone.

Agak arched an eyebrow.

"He requests you go to his room, Wizard." The
initiate looked as pale as the white tiles on the floor.

Agak regarded the initiate as if studying a curious insect.
Then nodded. Melaki broke no rules by requesting the presence of a wizard,
though he might be faulted for refusing to return with the initiate. Perhaps
Melaki was ill.

Agak strode from the breakfast chamber with medallion
clutched firmly in hand. He paced along the white tiled corridors and up the
stairs to the Initiate's Halls. Simple wooden doors were spaced evenly along
the corridor on both sides. Agak had often thought of the Initiate's Halls
resembling nothing less than a prison, but with doors instead of bars. Eighth
door on the right, etched with the words: Senior Initiate Melaki. Many
initiates viewed such things with pride but Agak had always thought it another
aspect of prison.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the room. He
gripped his robe and gave it a swirl as he entered, while casting his head at
what he believed was an authoritative angle.

Melaki stood in the center of his small room and appeared to
be calmly waiting.

Agak stopped, confused. “Why--”

Melaki interrupted him. “I am ready to be tested.”

Agak shook his head as if to clear it. “Preposterous,
everyone knows you are incapable--”

“I am ready.”

Agak was confused at the tone. He had never heard Melaki
exhibit anything more than confusion and frustration. “The testing is not for
another--”

“I have waited through six testings. Almost two years of
preparation. I need no more time.” Melaki's voice was firm.

“The Rukha will not convene a testing for a single ward just
because you think you are ready to throw some light.” Agak punctuated his scorn
with laughter.

“I am ready to be tested.”

“As I said, we will not convene for a first ward testing--”

Melaki interrupted again. “For all five wards.”

This time, Agak's laughter was an explosive bark. He threw
back his head and roared with laughter. “No one has ever tested for all five
wards at once. Certainly, someone such as you will not be able to advance
beyond the first.”

“Are you afraid, Wizard Agak?” Melaki was challenging the
third ward wizard and this was not wise, but he knew Agak. Whereas any other
wizard would have simply meted out a punishment for Melaki, Agak could not work
around his own pride.

Agak blinked and then pursed his lips. The scorn was still
there in his eyes, but also his pride.

“Remain here, Senior Initiate, while I bring your request to
Headmistress Renta.”

*  *  *

Melaki blew a sigh of relief after his door closed. His
palms were sweating and he was slightly dizzy from his earlier exertions and
lack of breakfast. He was risking everything as if gambling all on a dice
throw. But he knew he had the winning roll.

Time to show these frauds of magic something real.

He remained standing. He thought of Danluk's scroll,
returned a half hour previous to the library. Danluk's methods for inducing
visions had sparked something in his mind and provided all he needed to finally
break his lack of progress. His wait was not long. The headmistress must have
been intrigued by Melaki's request.

The door swung open and into the room crowded four wizards.
Agak remained outside in the hall, looking in. Headmistress Renta strode in
with a purpose. She held her head high and with arrogance. Her black robes were
adorned with the red trim of command. Her belt and medallion were of red gold.
Close beside her in the cramped room was her assistant, Sam-Adad, wearing his
black robe with blue trim and blue gold belt and medallion. Sam-Adad was a
recruiter and he advised Renta on an initiate's prospects. His presence was a
good sign. The third wizard was Scribe Instructor Daska, the very blue-robed
Wizard who had poked him yesterday with his crop. The last Wizard was a member
of the Elet Council, wearing his Elet robes of black with blue trim and blue
gold metal. He was one of those responsible for observing the tests. Melaki did
not know his name.

“Senior Initiate,” Headmistress Renta said as if she were
announcing his position to a crowd. “Wizard Agak claims you are presenting a
difficult behavior this morning. Explain yourself, and quickly.”

Melaki spoke as he had to Agak earlier, only a little
quieter. “I am ready to be tested.”