The Black Mage: Apprentice (2 page)

"What are you doing?" I scolded my friend
lightly. "You should be mentoring Darren."

Ian chuckled. "That self-important prodigy?
He'll be fine without me…" He gave me a disarming smile. "You, my
dear, are the one who needs help." He hooked my good arm with his
own. "That prince has the training master worshipping the very
ground he walks on. Darren could be
us
and Byron would still
insist he was the next Black Mage."

"Byron's going to stick you with latrine
duty," I warned, grinning despite myself.

Ian's green eyes danced wickedly. "He can
try –
but I'll just tell him it interferes with my
mentoring…"

I laughed loudly. "I look forward to hearing
his response."

"Anything for Byron's least favorite
apprentice. It's the least I can do since you took over my
torch."

"I wouldn't be so – ouch!" I ducked under a
low palm's hanging branches and skimmed my bad arm against the side
of its trunk.

"You okay there, warrior girl?"

"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth. "I
just want this pain to end."

"We are almost there." Ian pointed to a set
of wooden doors protruding from the base of a large cliff, a
quarter of a mile away.

Like most of the city's housing, the
infirmary was built into the rocky face of desert crags, a
seemingly endless elevation that separated the Red Desert from the
northern plains of the capital city, Devon, and the rest of Jerar.
I had always heard tales of a desert city carved into mountains,
but I had still been speechless the first day we arrived.

"Thank the gods."

The two of us continued along the dirt path,
through the doors, and into the dank, torch-lit passage of the
building. The air was cooler here. There were only two guards
posted at the entrance. They recognized us by our apprentice garb
and let us in without hesitation. The passage split into three
separate channels – I led Ian down the one to the right.

As soon as we had taken a couple of steps I
heard the master of Restoration's sharp, clipped voice instructing
on the proper
non-magical
treatment for scorpion stings.
Ugh
. Ian and I exchanged amused expressions and entered the
Restoration apprentices' classroom.

Normally
, one would seek out the
city's main healing center to the left of the main corridor, but
students were only allowed to be treated there if their injuries
were grave enough… If they weren't, we were "lessons" for the
Restoration apprentices.

They had to practice on someone.

"Ry!"

Master Joan's lecture ceased the moment we
entered the classroom. She shot my twin a dirty look for
interrupting her talk as she confronted Ian and I with a cross
expression. "What are your grievances, apprentices?"

"My right arm." I tried to avoid the curious
stares from the rest of Alex's faction. I knew they wanted to be
healers, but it still sent an unsettling quiver down my spine when
they looked intrigued – instead of horrified - by our injuries. No
one should
ever
be excited to see blood.

"And you?" She eyed Ian suspiciously.

Ian grinned sheepishly. "Too much sun?"

"Out!" The master pointed to the door.

Ian winked at me – fully expecting the
master's response - and departed the room with a friendly wave. As
soon as he disappeared several of the female apprentices sighed. I
hid a smile. I wasn't the only one who had noticed my friend's good
looks.

"Everyone – we will continue the lesson after
we have finished Apprentice Ryiah's healing. Ryiah, please list
your symptoms so that we can begin to consider a treatment."

I began to describe my injury – pain up and
down the arm, swelling, and stiffness in the elbow. I wondered if
it was broken.

"Break." My sandy-haired twin was the first
to speak.

"And how do we confirm diagnosis?"

"I would project a casting to mirror bone
placement - if there weren't any physical deformities or skin
breakage, since those alone would confirm his suspicions without
magic." That was Ronan – my brother's friend and sometimes rival, a
fellow second-year that had ranked first in their trial year at the
Academy.

Master Joan chose a fifth-year to perform the
casting. The girl stood proudly, eyes alight with anticipation as
she began her magic. I braced myself – the last time I had visited
the infirmary for dehydration a painless casting had resulted in
skin rash.
Nothing like trial and error to make me wary of my
fellow apprentices.

Luckily this time the girl appeared to know
what she was doing. I didn't feel anything above a faint, humming
vibration as my arm slowly took on a translucent outline with
glowing lines shining through it. My stomach turned a little as I
realized those bright orange things were my bones. There was an
unnatural break in the round nook at the end of my forearm
connecting to the elbow.

"Minor fracture," the girl said proudly.
"Nothing we would need to realign with plating. I would recommend
conservative treatment since there is no breakage and her bones do
not appear to be displaced."

I swallowed, immediately grateful they would
not be inserting metals into my arm.

"How would we treat with magic? And
without?"

The same fifth-year replied with the proper
response for both – and I was happy to hear neither detailed
anything complex.

"Good. Now splint her arm as you would
without magic. Byron will want her to heal naturally since it is
not severe."

****

When the girl had finished wrapping my arm
and secured it in a sling I was dismissed. As I passed Alex my twin
caught my arm – under the pretense he wanted to check my bindings,
but really so he could ask about Ella.

"She hasn't forgotten me, has she?"

I scowled at Alex, attempting to reposition
my arm more comfortably. "Gee, thanks for asking about me."

"I'm not worried about
you
, Ry." He
chuckled. "You have taken more trips to the infirmary than anyone
else in your faction and I
never
hear you complain – even
with that nasty Byron as your training master." Noting Master
Joan's frown he quickly examined my wrist, placing two fingers to
check my pulse. "Circulation is still steady," he declared
loudly.

As soon as the master's back was turned Alex
gave me a pleading look – one that had stolen countless hearts in
our hometown of Demsh'aa. It did not work on me. "But, really," he
whispered, "how is Ella? I've barely had a chance to talk to her
since the apprenticeships started-"

"You see her every day at meals."

"But she's with the rest of your faction,"
Alex pointed out. "They expect me to sit with my own – comradeship
and all that nonsense. And all you Combat apprentices have such
airs."

I sighed. "Well then stop by the our table
after you are done with fostering your 'comradeship.' I am not
going to serve as a go-between for your apologies. Tell her how you
feel, or leave the poor girl alone already."

Alex released me with a groan. "You are no
fun, Ry."

"Neither are you when you are hurting my best
friend." I didn't feel sorry for my twin – he'd had his chance and
blown it. I loved my brother – but he knew I was no fan when it
came to his relationships.
Especially
his last one.
Handsome, lovable Alex was a scamp when it came to the heart. It
served him right that the one to break his was Ella.

"Ry." His eyes were somber.

"Yeah?"

"I miss her."

"I know."

****

By the time I had returned to my faction
everyone had already left the training grounds and started their
third session of the day: Strategies in Combat. It was the final
class before our lunchtime break and my favorite since we had
started our desert training.

I quickly ran up the four long flights of
stairs nearest our barracks to the local regiment's council
chambers. Protruding out of a rocky cliff face, the fourth floor of
the great, many-pillared building contained a large hall for the
outpost's Commander, highborn officials – including Baron Eli - and
the local regiment of soldiers, knights and mages to gather and
discuss various strategies for dealing with any and all topics of
military interest. Though the Crown's Army served the capital and
made official decisions in times of war, it was the duty of each
city's assigned regiment to enforce Crown law and deal with local
issues unless brute force was needed.

Finding Ella in the crowd I quickly made my
way to the back of the hall. Ella made room on her bench and eyed
my bad arm with interest. "Ouch," she whispered. "Maybe Byron will
feel bad for yelling now that he knows you broke it."

"Ha." The man was incapable of remorse.

"Will you two be quiet already? I've got
better things to do than listen to Ryiah complain." Priscilla, one
row in front of us, shot Ella and I a nasty look.

"She wasn't complaining," Ella hissed back.
"Certainly not like when you broke
your
shoulder last
month!"

"I did
not
!"

"You made Darren carry you to the infirmary."
The words fell from my lips before I could stop them. I immediately
regretted it.
Why – why did I say that?

Priscilla narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I see what
this
is about." She twisted her lips in a small, cruel
smile. "Ryiah, I am sorry you
still
harbor
that
sentiment – but please
do
try to move on. It makes me
uncomfortable to see you pining for my betrothed after all this
time."

My fists clenched. "Darren and I are just
friends."

"And that's all you'll ever be." She scowled.
"Whatever happened back at the Aca-"

"What is this?
Have you second-years no
respect for your study?
I demand an explanation at once!"

Priscilla paused as Master Byron came
barreling toward the back of the room, his face livid with anger as
he fixated on the three of us. His frown was particularly
poignant.

"It was Apprentice Ryiah, sir!"

Ella's and my jaw dropped in blatant
disbelief.

"I tried to stop her, sir, but she kept
complaining about her injury and whining that Darren didn't carry
her to the infirmary!"

My cheeks flamed as the non-heir – who had
been immersed in a history scroll just moments before - whipped his
head around to stare.

"I was doing no such thing!" I avoided
Darren's gaze as I turned to face the Master of Combat. "I would
never
say that." I hoped the prince would hear my
emphasis.

"And why would I believe a troublemaker over
the soon-to-be wife of our noble prince Darren? Are you suggesting
I should distrust the Crown's future princess?"

My mouth soured at Master Byron's obvious
discrimination and I forced myself to exhale slowly. Ian had not
been exaggerating the man's bias: Byron had lived as a palace mage
for several years before taking over the apprenticeship training –
already a classist highborn, and a sexist, he was the
last
thing we needed for our study.

"Ryiah isn't lying, sir." Ella stood and put
her hand on my shoulder in a show of support.

"You aren't a source of veritable truth
either, Eleanor."

"It's Ella," Ella said through clenched
teeth.

The master scoffed. "That is of no
consequence. I expect the two of you to assist Apprentice Ian with
the cleaning of the barrack privies during your evening hours for
the remainder of this week. A small price for interrupting the rest
of your classmates' study. It is my hope that the extra duty will
illuminate the error of your ways." He gave a loud, exasperated
sniff. "Though I suspect it will not. Now, pay attention to the
rest of the Commander's address or I will see to it that you
never
have free time again."

Silently fuming, I forced myself to sit tall
in my seat and focus on the regiment leaders at the front of the
room. Beside me Ella did the same. Now was not the time to
complain. Despite the drama just moments before both of us really
did want to hear what the Commander and her regiment leaders were
saying. Unlike the lessons we'd had back at the Academy, these
officials' information was formed entirely by first-hand
experience.

Today's topic was continuing a three-week
lecture on chariot combat – what the desert regiments were famous
for.

Ishir Outpost was located at the northernmost
boundary of the Red Desert, which encompassed the entire southern
region of Jerar. The city and the rest of the desert's border were
made up entirely of tall desert bluffs and steep crags with only
one man-made gate allowing travel between the desert and the rest
of the country. The desert's tall, rocky walls overlooked the
middle plains and provided perfect vantage points for the Crown's
Army in the event of a full-scale invasion on the capital, Devon.
Mostly, the desert's local regiments serviced the walls as
lookouts. There hadn't been a war between Jerar and its northern
neighbor Caltoth in over ninety years.

Since the start of our training in Ishir I
had learned that at the base of this wall were several hidden
tunnels interspersed every fifty miles or so to help the central
plains evacuate and give the Red Desert's regiments easy passage
out. According to palace historians, no country had ever attacked
Jerar's capital due to the threat just south of it.

Because of the desert tunnels and the plains'
level ground, one of the first things the Crown's Army had done was
order up several hundred two-manned chariots to be stored in all of
the desert's northern cities – ready to be used for swift-assault
should the need arise.

The chariots were intended to be the first
charge with a soldier steering while either a skilled archer-knight
or Combat mage led the attack. The quick speed of such a light
vehicle allowed the mages and knights the ease of a distanced
approach that enemies would have a hard time countering. The Red
Desert's knights and mages were known for their long-range attacks,
and since Ishir Outpost was the most populace city with the largest
regiment it had become one of the four territories mage apprentices
and knights' squires trained in during their four-year
apprenticeships.