A Mage's Power (Journey to Chaos) (49 page)

“Kasile, did any of your ancestors face their trial alone?”
Kasile paused, then shook her head.

“Then I will be there with you. Just as I promised to rescue
you, I promise to help you. But this time . . . I really hope you'll wait for
me.” Kasile chuckled into his shoulder.

“T-thank you, E-eric,” she said, and hiccupped. She pulled
away and wiped her eyes. When she regained her composure, she said, “I'm sorry
you had to see me like that.”

“No problem. Friends, right?” Though her eyes were still
shinning with tears, Kasile smiled.

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “Friends.”

Chapter 18
Outsider

The next day, Eric stood amid tall tables draped with fire-themed
tablecloths and plates decorated with the royal seal. A grand fire hovered in
the exact center of the room. There was no one who could not feel its warmth or
escape its light. The castle ballroom accommodated the contestants; they
enjoyed the finger food and the attention of the waiters and could not forget
the source of it all. He wondered when that source would show up.

Just like she said, they're all from the same academy.
All the girls wore the same long pink dresses hemmed with gold, collars of
darker pink and white gloves. All the boys wore blue floor length robes outline
in silver, dark blue ascots and white gloves. One of them bore a striking
resemblance to Norej Darwoss. Judging by his age, he could be an older brother,
but with his long hair and feminine features, he could have been an older
sister.

He marched to Eric and demanded, “Why are you loitering?” He
pushed a strand out of his eyes. “Get back to work.”

Eric imitated the gesture with exaggerated pomp. “I already
am.”

“What!?” Now Eric had his full attention. “You're not a
student from the Royal Academy of Magical Learning. You look like a sell staff!
You don't deserve to be here.”

 Personally, Eric didn't think he deserved to be here
either. His sole reason for entering was so Kasile could make a point. However,
he didn't take kindly the comment about his guild.

“Thank you for the compliment. My upperclassmen are some of
the best mages in the country.”

“I see you've been taken in by their cult.”

“'Cult'?”

The boy examined his (well cared for) nails. “A cult is
defined as: 'A religion or sect considered to be false, unorthodox, or
extremist, with members living outside of conventional society under the
direction of a charismatic leader.' I believe that fits your little 'guild' to
a T, don't you?”

If he doesn't shut up, he's going to be more like a girl
than he already is.

Silver hair smirked. “You
whore
ship your guildhead.
You call her 'Leader' or 'Dragoness' and speak of her as if she were a god.
Your members, particularly your captains, belong in a nut house. You novices
have your heads stuffed with ideas of 'family' and the oh-so-important 'lair'.
It's brainwashing if you ask me. And the things you do: anything for the right
price! If that's not extremist, I don't what is.”

Eric exhaled. “I will be sure to tell the guild that we have
a fan among the contestants. Why else would you know so much about us?” Silver
Hair blushed, sputtered, and looked all too angry to form coherent sentences. A
torrent of laughter gave him pause.

The source was a girl standing by the banquet. She wore a
sky blue dress that fell to a scalloped hem at her knees. Beneath were long
socks and leather boots. An attached hood concealed her face. All four articles
possessed hand-sewn runes. Thanks to Basilard's test, he knew this girl was
prepared for every possible status aliment, but it couldn't explain her effect
on him personally.

Ever since entering this room, he felt peculiar; a nagging
anxiety and fragile hope mixed together that felt different from pre-contest
jitters. The sight of this girl and her laughter amplified it. He felt a
clicking deep inside him; the same “unknowingly parched” sensation from his
first drink of mana-rich water. Warm and euphoric, but it paled in comparison
to this.

“And you! You're no academy student!”

The girl chugged a drink. “Thank The Trickster for that. I
never liked wearing all that pink.
It would look good on you, though.”

The silver haired snob boiled with anger. “Where is our
honor if they're letting dropouts enter our prestigious contest!? Next, they'll
be letting
demons
in!”

The girl slammed her cup on the table. “You're free to think
what you want about demons, but allow me to correct you on my credentials.” She
threw back her hood and forest green hair fell to her shoulders. Mixed with the
green were irregular strands of golden-brown; they looked like Annala's, but
reminded him of Tiza's grime streaks.

Silver Hair stepped back as if from a monster. “I know you .
. . you're Kallen Selios.”

Kallen held her head proudly. “Satisfied?”

“I am,” he replied coldly. “I, Getis of Darwoss, heir to the
county of Darwoss, have been forced to compete with a
labrat.
”

“I am a
field agent
,” Kallen hissed. “Not a labrat.”

Getis sneered. “Not anymore, apparently.”

“Not ever!”

“Then what do you call it?”

Kallen crossed her arms. “I was a voluntary participant in
theoretical therapy. I single-handedly delivered Proof of Concept! I changed
the world just by existing!”

“It is my sincere hope that
my
change will be a
positive one.”

“Why you!”

The academy mages clustered to Getis' side and glowered. She
froze. The ones behind her shoved her as they passed. She death-glared each of
them in turn before focusing on Getis. Smirking obnoxiously, he shrugged as if
to say, “I gained this popularity just by existing.”

What's the story with Kallen Selios?
Eric asked
Kasile.

She works for the International Community Dedicated to
Mana Mutation: collecting data, testing equipment, bringing in specimens, etc. In
short, she does grunt work so professional scientists don't have to, but she's
proud of it.

“I hear elves administered your 'therapy.' Even took you to
their village for it.” Getis pointed to his natural silver hair. “Do you think
you're one of them now? Or are you just desperate for attention?”

Kallen picked up a clump of golden-brown hair. “I was
collecting data from a
mana storm
. There was this hole in my suit and Fog
leaked in. I can—”

“So the labrat mutated
again
?”

“I'm NOT a labrat!”

Eric frowned.
What about the 'labrat' thing?

She's a victim of the Siduban Chaos Explosion; one of
many. The treatment for mana mutation back then was . . . still in the
experimental stage.

From a patient to a grunt in eight years . . . All
because of a chaos explosion.

Lady Chaos works in mysterious ways . . . or maybe she
makes it up as she goes along. No one knows. We can discuss it later. Right now,
I have to introduce the contest.

Fanfare blared from dual heralds. “Presenting the Daughter
of Fire, Heir to the Throne of Ataidar, Her Royal Highness, Kasile Landros
Ataidar!”

Two trolls in fire armor pulled open a grand double door and
fell to one knee as the princess entered. In her wake, was a column of soldiers
and a column of attendants. Looking neither left nor right she walked through a
crowd that parted as she approached. Her uniform was unique in its fire motifs
and crown jewelry. Compared to her, they were normal school kids in a clique.
She stepped onto a star shaped dais beneath the fire, her entourage formed a
circle, and all eyes focused on her.

“I thank you all for coming. As Ataidar's future queen, I
will be your host. I congratulate you on clearing the
rigorous
selection
process.
Clearly,
you are the cream of the crop.”

One of the guards cleared her throat.

“Today, we are honored by two special contestants,” Kasile
continued. “First, the renowned ICDMM field agent, Kallen Selios.” No one
clapped, but Kallen took a bow anyway. “Second, the promising Dragon's Lair
mercenary, Eric Watley.” Only Kallen clapped. The rest gave her hostile looks.  

“Before we begin, I want you to know that Mr. Watley is not
here because I wish to make a point about how this contest is open to everyone.”
She's making one right now . . .
“He is here because he is every bit as
talented as the rest of you. I firmly believe he can win. Then again . . .” She
smiled winningly. “I suppose that's why I am the host instead of the judge.”
Cue polite laughter. “I wish you all luck and may the 1000th New Scepter Magic
Competition begin!”

The First Challenge was a written exam. It covered every single
book ever written by a groundbreaking mage and rotated every year. It was
comprehensive and detailed; from the most obscure passages to the most esoteric
theories. It was enough to make any student break out in a sweat.
What kind
of a narcissist memorizes their own work?
Eric plowed through it with ease.

 To the shock of all, the first to finish was the sell
staff. He swaggered out of the room and sent Getis a smug look. Kallen joined
him in the hallway soon after.

“I'm impressed. Your knowledge of Dengel's canon is
exceptional.”

“Well . . . I'm a big fan,” Eric said truthfully.

Kallen chuckled. “Everyone thought you were just the
princess's latest stunt. No one thought you'd finish that test.”

Eric shrugged. “I depend on Dengel for my livelihood. I have
to know it well, that's all.”

Now she cackled. “I'm glad you're in this thing. Now it will
be fun.”

She extended her hand and Eric shook it. At once, a surge of
warmth and peace raced up his arm and to his heart. He would have been shocked
if it didn't feel so good. Kallen let go and the feeling vanished, leaving him
feeling colder and more isolated than he had a second ago.

“I look forward to seeing you progress, Eric Watley,
especially what others will do about it.”

“What do you—?”

Kallen twiddled her fingers at him, said, “Ta-da,” and left
without explanation.

Four hours later, the results of the exam were posted on a
crystal board in the ballroom. The cutoff point was ninety percent and Eric's
perfect score set the standard. The type A's of the class mumbled hatefully at
how it made there's low in comparison.

“This test is invalid!” Getis declared. “The mercenary
cheated.”

The crowd muttered in agreement. Technically, Eric
did
cheat,
but no one would believe exactly how. He was in the middle of spinning a
defense when Kallen stepped forward.

“Do you have evidence? I simply
must
have evidence.
As a scientist I'm incurable that way.”

“He's a
sell staff!
What more proof do I need!?”

Kallen raised an eyebrow. “Proof? I doubt it will stand up
to scientific scrutiny.”

“It is
inconceivable
that a sell staff could know
more than a student of the Royal Academy of Magical Learning! All people like
him
do is fight and drink!”

“Well . . .” Kallen said with her hands on her hips. “I must
confess I know nothing about the daily lives of mercenaries and so I cannot
contradict you. We must collect data from the source.” Turning to Eric, she
asked, “Mr. Watley, what is your daily schedule?”

The novice told them just that: Wake up, breakfast, mission,
lunch, train, shower, friends, study Dengel's work, go to sleep. He didn't tell
them that the author himself lived in his head because he promised the healer
of Kyraa. He
did
feel a little
guilty, but it was far too
gratifying to see Getis squirm.

“There you have it,” Kallen said. “He spends time every day
studying Dengel's work. Do you have more evidence for us to consider?”

Getis said nothing and melted into the crowd.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kallen said. “I love putting
pencil necks
like him
in their place.” She snatched a bowl of shrimp from a passing
waiter and gobbled it. “I need something more filling..Anyway, you ready for
the next event?”

“Yes. I bet you'll pass easy.”

She shrugged. “I'm a field agent, not a magician.”

“At least you get recognition. Except for you and Kasile,
everyone here thinks I have fleas.”

“You just need an accomplishment. After this contest, you'll
be treated differently.”

Eric smiled. “You . . .you think I'll win?”

“Definitely,” Kallen said with a shoulder punch. “You're my
only competition.”

A trumpet drew their attention to center stage. Kasile
congratulated those who passed a “test of arcane knowledge” and consoled the
rest by reminding them that no one would know. Although she maintained a polite
face, Eric could feel a giant sneer. Dancing on the border of decorum; she
loved it.

An especially big congrats to you, my friend.

Yes, I should give myself a pat on the back
for
furthering your political agenda.

Kasile giggled.
Doesn't it feel good knowing that you're
working towards a more fair society?
Eric remained silent.
I bet you'll
feel good with prize money in your hands.

THAT
I will agree with. Will I be teaching today?

The princess was surrounded by students pestering her with
questions about magic. The most common one was if she used any to keep her skin
clear or her hair shining.
Not today. I have another 'political agenda' to
pursue. Let's just say being kidnapped taught me more than mana claws. Tune in
to Channel 5 in one hour. That friend of yours . . .Tiza . . .I want her to see
it.