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The windows in the Aedon Keep were especially dreadful this early in the morning. Tommy could hardly keep his eyes open because the sun was coming in at just the right angle to reflect precisely into his pupils. That’s what he told Dream anyway, the lecturer that was attempting to teach him the pros and cons of Nightshade. Definitely wouldn’t admit that the reason he couldn’t keep his eyes open was that he’d been up all night practicing a spell that he just couldn’t seem to get right.
Definitely couldn’t tell him that he was starting to feel that familiar itching under his skin, and he hoped that by taking a nap, he could delay the inevitable explosion until he could get out of this room and make it out to the training grounds.
“Tommy, for the last time, wake up.” It was only the third time that Dream had snapped at him this lecture alone. His peers that sat beside him turned to look at him, and if it weren’t for the utter embarrassment that being called out three times had already caused, he would’ve just laid his head down again.
But he needed to get this right, had to prove to the rectoress that he was worth being at this school. He feared that he was running out of chances, and the whispers of the students in the class with him only confirmed that everyone was noticing the lack of magic.
Being a mage in training was hard enough but being a mage in training with chaos magic was entirely and inexplicably worse. Tommy found himself struggling in the halls and classrooms of the Aedon Keep almost daily, trying—and failing—to call upon the gifts that he was ever so graciously blessed with. He’d walk the stone floors, his footsteps echoing off of the walls, muttering incantations under his breath in the hopes that one day he might be able to conjure something more than a measly flame or a weak gust of wind.
However, chaos magic worked differently than all the rest, it seemed. It showed up when it wanted to. Not when Tommy called on it like he was being taught. It was always with him, always felt in his chest right below his heart, but unreachable. Always at the tips of his fingers but so far away that he couldn’t grasp it, harness it like the rest of his classmates who seemed to not have a single problem during their lessons.
He’d been praised when he first arrived as being the only chaos witch in the school, but it didn’t last long once his instructors realized that chaos couldn’t be controlled.
He was useless.
What was a mage that couldn’t access his magic?
All of the other mages that lived in Aedon could see it. His peers. His teachers. All of them looked at him like he was a lost cause. Pity and embarrassment were seen on the faces of muses and elementals alike, mages who wielded their magic as if it were just another limb of theirs, no thought or effort ever wasted. The ones who’d had no trouble controlling it in their youths were looking at him like he just wasn’t trying hard enough.
But he was doing everything in his power to get to where they were. Every ounce of energy that he could muster was put toward learning and training, and fuck, why couldn’t they just see that he was trying his best? It was like they didn’t see him at all.
They didn’t see the bruises under his eyes from sleepless nights of training. Didn’t see the way he’d rubbed his hands raw trying to conjure up the simplest of objects. A flower or a gem or a flame. There was just no controlling this glowing fire in his chest. There was no asking it to do anything. It did what it wanted when it wanted to as if his magic had a mind of its own.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t powerful, though. The Aedon Keep had seen what he was capable of, had seen the damage that chaos magic can cause, and that was the only reason that he was still here. Kept in the mage school with the hopes that, with training, Tommy would be able to control it. The effort wasn’t proving fruitful, though, and the boy had to wonder if maybe there had been some sort of mistake, that he’d gotten mixed up with some boy in the market.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t believe that there was any truth to that. There was no denying the fire raging behind his ribcage, that ball of energy that kept turning and building, waiting to be unleashed at any given moment. Felt like, at any moment, it would begin to rise up into his throat and spew out of his mouth in molten ribbons of ignition.
It could happen any time, just like it did that day.
Autumn was especially beautiful in Aedon. Crimson and sunset leafs perched on the tree branches, threatening to fall with every gust of cool wind. The white stone walls of the castle held warmth well in the dropping temperatures. Every night, they would feast on hot bread and rich stew and go to bed with their fur blankets and goose-feathered pillows.
Tommy had been living there for about a month. His training was just beginning, and even then, he knew he was having problems. While he watched all the other mages begin understanding the lessons and harnessing their abilities, he was left in the dust with nothing but sparking fingertips and a sinking feeling in his chest.
He’d been called to the rectoress’s room one day. Captain as they called her. Tommy had only met her once before when she approached him in the village after a display of chaos, when she invited him to go to Aedon in order to teach him the ways of magic and the rules that went along with it.
He remembered her being very kind, softspoken, but when he entered the gold-trimmed room, he saw the hardened look on her face and instantly felt like a lost child in the village all over again.
“Tommy,” she said in a voice that sounded just as serious as the lines in her face. “Have a seat, will you?”
“Have I done something, Captain?” Doing as she asked, the mage sat in one of the cushioned chairs that were provided, eyes searching his surroundings as if the crystal wine decanter and the torches on the wall would give him the answers that he was so desperately searching for.
“I’m afraid it’s the opposite,” she muttered, standing from her seat, her long dress swishing as she walked to stand in front of him, leaning on the oak table behind her. “Your instructors have informed me that you’re not keeping up with the rest of the mages. They say you’re having a bit of trouble grasping the incantations that they’re giving you.”
Tommy shamefully hung his head, unable to meet her eye. “I can’t control it as the others can. They seem to call on it so easily, and I—I just can’t get a hold of it.”
The rectoress hummed, a finger tapping her chin in thought. Tommy’s heart was beating out of his chest, praying silently that she wouldn’t send him back to his little village in the middle of nowhere where he knew he wouldn’t amount to anything. Aedon was the only thing he had, a blessing that had fallen into his lap a month ago, and he couldn’t be sent away. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if that were to happen.
Of course, Captain took an eternity to say anything else, her eyes raking over him as if he were a sample to be studied and prodded at. A puzzle that she was trying to solve before she spoke, and with every passing second, Tommy felt himself fall more and more into madness and distress.
“Sometimes,” she said finally, slowly. “Sometimes there are those who are conduits for chaos, but that’s all. There’s no magic or ability, just energy that cannot be accessed or harnessed.” With those words, Tommy thought she might as well have just punched him in the stomach. All of his breath left him in a single breath, his heart sinking into his stomach.
He was being sent home. The finality in her words couldn’t be covered. He could hear the goodbye along with the sadness no matter how well she tried to cover it.
Shaking his head, Tommy stood up, his chest heaving with emotion at the thought of having to leave this beautiful school after he’d only just arrived. “Are you saying that I can’t do magic?”
Upsettingly, the Captain looked apologetic. “You have potential, Tommy, but potential isn’t enough. It’s challenging being a mage. We’re meant to help the kingdoms rule, serve as councilmen to the Kings and Queens of the realm. You can’t do that with potential alone. There needs to be more.” She sighed. “There needs to be control. Do you understand?”
She might have said something else, might have continued talking after she realized that he wasn’t going to answer his question, but the blood rushing in Tommy’s ears drowned her out. His teeth were chattering together, and the only thought running through his head was useless, unteachable, worthless. He’d barely been given a chance, and now they were throwing him to the wayside. He couldn’t even blame them, couldn’t give them a reason to let him stay. He’d done nothing while he was here, hadn’t mastered a single spell that even the most novice of mages could accomplish.
He wished more than anything that he could prove it to her, prove that he was worth keeping around, even as a dishwasher or a farmhand. He didn’t need to be the advisor of some king, didn’t need the lavishness that Aedon had once promised him. He just wanted a home that he knew he belonged in.
It was the first time that he felt that ball of energy below his heart sizzle and glow, made his jaw ache and his eyes feel hot. It was the first time that he felt like a small tendril of energy was released from his cage, a small piece darting out of him before he could catch it. Directed at nothing in particular, a force so powerful came from nowhere and went everywhere.
The crystal wine decanter shattered, spilling maroon liquid onto the bearskin rug underneath the table. The ground rumbled beneath them, shaking the room. The paintings on the wall began to rattle in their frames, banging against the stone. And right below him, the floor began to sever, a crack running from his chair all the way up the wall and into the ceiling.
“…—mmy. Tommy! Stop!” The rectoress’s voice pierced through his thoughts and the loud rumbling that was surrounding them, and suddenly it stopped. A brief moment of chaos, then nothing. Only then did he realize that he’d been the cause of the commotion. That it was the same sort of outburst that had gotten him into the school in the first place. A swift wave of magic, and then it was back to being unharnessable.
“I—” He swallowed standing from his chair hurriedly, trying not to stare at the crack he’d made in the wall that ran all the way up to the ceiling. “I’m—I’m sorry. I don’t know—I don’t know what happened. I—”
“Perhaps,” she cut him off, effectively silencing him. “Perhaps I was too quick to judge.”
Confused and with his chest still heaving, Tommy could feel his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What—? But you just said—”
She held up her hand to quiet him once more. “I understand, and I apologize. I forgot how strongly you can wield your chaos. Uncontrolled and wild as it might be, I think I would be doing you and the world a disservice if I were to send you back home.” She sighed and flicked her wrist in the direction of the crack that he’d just made. Slowly, Tommy watched as the wall began to stitch itself back together, the fibers of stone linking back up, connecting until the crack was no longer visible. “No, I think it best if you remain in Aedon. Even if we can’t teach you anything other than how to control the outbursts, then at least you’ll still have that.”
Tommy didn’t know whether to cry or shout or jump with joy. She wasn’t going to kick him out. He’d get to stay in Aedon for just a bit longer, and he thanked the Captain profusely, bowing as tears of relief slipped down his cheeks. “Thank you, rectoress,” he sniffled. “You won’t regret your decision. I promise. I’ll do everything to stay here.”
She did little more than hum, waving him out of the room without another word.
So, he was allowed to roam the halls of this castle that they called a school, was allowed to look upon the tapestries and eat with the same people who thought he wasn’t worthy of his place here. He was subjected to countless lectures and training and exercises that he failed and failed at in the hopes that everything would just click one day.
And that’s how he found himself being scolded by Dream in one of the classrooms, hanging his head amongst the berating that he’d just received. Luckily, he’d been able to keep his eyes open for the rest of the lecture, but if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to leave so bad. He wasn’t a potions maker anyway, so the poisonous and healing properties of Nightshade were completely lost on him.
He was a chaos witch, after all, and the only thing he wanted to do was to get outside the castle’s walls and onto the training field where he could really begin working. The training field called to him in the same way a moth was drawn to the flame. It was the only place in Aedon where he felt like he had a semblance of control, among the dried wheatgrass, browned and crisped during the winter months, crunching under his boot. It was the only place where he felt he could truly unleash that powerful feeling inside of him.
The end of the class couldn’t come soon enough. He’d already decided that he would be the first one out the door, pushing himself from the room with force if he needed to. He’d run all the way to the training grounds, anything to get away from this stuffy classroom and the man who had made this lecture especially boring.
But he wasn’t so lucky as to get away completely unscathed.
“Alright, I’ll see you all in a couple of days. Remember that there won’t be any lectures tomorrow on the account of the King of Feather Crest coming to pay a visit later today—”
A student to Tommy’s left raised their hand, arm extending over their head, and they didn’t wait for Dream to acknowledge them to ask their question. “Is he picking out another mage, Instructor?”
Tommy couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling, glaring silently out of the window, wanting nothing more than to leave while Dream droned out his answer. What other reason would any king come to Aedon, than to pick out a new mage for their court?
King Philza of Feather Crest had two mages already in his court, their skill renowned across the realms, across the world even. Tommy had heard tales ever since he was a boy about the mage with blood magic who toppled kingdoms and razed empires for his King. He’d heard about the musician with a sharp tongue and a mind for diplomacy.
They’d both been students here once, like him. Their tales were one of the reasons that it was so important that he learn to understand his abilities, his magic and chaos. He wanted to be talked about, wanted songs written for him, wanted the world at his feet and the future at his fingertips.
But he wasn’t going to find a way to control all of it if he was sitting in his damned classroom, waiting for Dream to finish explaining how it was in their best interest to be on their best behavior while the king was here.
Tommy didn’t have to worry about impressing whatever lord or King walked through the doors, though. That was left up to the older mages, the ones that had been in training for years and were ready to lead their lives in the court as parts of the leaders’ council. Tommy would barely call himself competent on the best of days. Couldn’t even conjure up a single flame on the tips of his fingers, so what good would he be to a King?
After Dream had finished up explaining his answer to the other student’s question and officially called an end to the lecture, Tommy was about to rush out of the door once more. However, he was stopped by a simple, “Tommy—stay back for a moment.” And Tommy bit back an annoyed sigh, fought with himself about rolling his eyes and watched dejectedly as his peers vacated the room to head down to the mess hall for their midday meal.
Once the lecturer had seen that the class was vacated, Dream approached him with a frown and concerned eyes, and Tommy knew that he couldn’t handle it right now. The shortness in his temper and attention span had only worsened as the lecture grew longer, and he was still here after it was over. Consider him annoyed, to say the least. He really didn’t need Dream looking at him with all that pity, wanted to tell him where he could shove it.
“Is something the matter, Tommy?” Dream started. His voice was much softer than it had been earlier when he was yelling at the young mage to wake up. “You’re usually not like this. Did something happen?” His voice dipped a little bit at the last bit, and Tommy wanted to scoff and stomp out of the room.
“No,” he spat, knowing that he should keep his attitude to a minimum unless he wanted to end up in the Captain’s room once more. He didn’t think he could handle that after the most boring lecture that he’d sat through. “I’m fine.”
Dream sucked on his teeth, pulling out the chair beside the one that Tommy was sitting in, angling his body so that it was facing the teen. “I know that things haven’t been easy for you recently, but if there’s anything I can do to help then, please, don’t be afraid to reach out.”
The idea of getting a private lesson from Dream or even a well-needed pep talk sounded as good to Tommy as sleeping on a bed of nails. He grimaced, unable to stop the muscles in his face from contracting. “That’s—Thank you,” he forced himself to grit out. “That’s very kind of you.”
In all honesty, Tommy would’ve said anything if it would let him get out of this room. The browning, brittle grass of the training field was calling his name, and there was an itch under his skin that was beginning to turn into pain. He had to let go for a second, and there was no way to explain that to Dream in the short amount of time that he had.
The older mage seemed to take his answer for what it was humming and nodding, pleased with himself, Tommy’s sure. “Well, I’ll let you go eat with your friends, just—try and refrain from falling asleep during my class again.”
He wanted to say something about if his class wasn’t so boring, then he wouldn’t have any trouble staying awake, but he was so close to being free. He hadn’t noticed the ache in his jaw, but that was another warning sign that he had to get as far away from the keep as possible, make sure that there weren’t any people around as well.
So, he kept his mouth shut, picked up his things, and walked as quickly as he could from the classroom. The hum of blood rushing in his ears drowned out the sound of the other mages walking around him, milling about the castle, moving quickly to get out of his way. They all knew the look that was on his face, the tension in the lines on his forehead. Knew where he was going, too, most likely.
He barely even registered that he’d entered the courtyard until a brisk autumn breeze shocked him back into the present, distracted him from the itching and the pain if just for a second. His feet stalled, but he shook his head, bent on getting as far away as possible before the chaos began to bleed out of him in ways that he never could control.
Tommy was a conduit for chaos, and when he kept it bottled up for too long, it got harder to manage. Harder to keep under wraps behind his ribs. He had to let it out, like a scream that was building up in his throat. He never knew when it would come, when the feeling would start back up again, but he’d gotten better at keeping it in place until he could get away from other people.
He just hoped that no one would come looking for him, that everybody would be too caught up with King Philza’s visit that they wouldn’t even notice that he was gone.
There was a rolling in his gut when he finally stepped onto the training grounds outside the keep. It was just far enough from the castle that he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone bothering him, and there was already so much going on today that no one was out here. A good thing, too, because he could feel that heat in his chest working its way up to his throat, could feet the water in the corner of his eyes, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep the chaos contained for much longer.
Clawing at his now-heaving chest, Tommy dropped to his knees, feeling like he was about to be sick. It never did make him feel the best, keeping it all bottled up like he was used to, but he knew what would happen if he were to let it all out in the castle. Even now—before he let go entirely—he could feel the ground beginning to shake. Could see the way the trees in the forest across the way began to sway even though there was barely a breeze. Could hear the caw of crows as they were spooked from their nests.
He leaned back, a bead of sweat trailing down his forehead, looked up at the clear blue skies, and let it all out in one scream.
Many of his teachers have asked what it feels like, to let go of all that power that has been building up inside him for who knows how long. What does it feel like to unleash chaos? Well, there was a ringing that started in his ears, sweat staining his cotton shirt, and it felt like his skin was on fire, burning him almost.
The ground around him was scorched, the brittle grass singed and the ground charred. The force of the energy that he released ran all the way out into the forest, a split second and scream were all it took to turn his immediate surroundings into ash. And then it was over.
As much as it felt like a relief, it was also the most out of control that Tommy allowed himself to be. It was frustrating, mostly. To have all this power and not be able to use it in the way that mages were supposed to be able to. Tears had already been sprouting in the corners of his eyes from the effort that it took to contain all of that energy, but now that it had left him, he realized he was crying from the defeat.
He’d never be a real mage.
And the more he sat in the training field, the more he wanted to stay here. All day and night, watching the leaves turn colors and fall off of their branches, bare until spring where they would start to bud again, listen to the birds migrate to the south until they came back when the weather got warm.
He would’ve stayed in the field forever if he hadn’t heard the crunching footsteps approaching behind him. Sighing, he didn’t think anyone would’ve come out here with the King coming but he was wrong yet again. Might as well just be thankful that whoever it was hadn’t approached a couple of minutes sooner.
“That was impressive,” Tommy heard behind him, a low voice that he didn’t recognize.
Scrambling up from his spot on the charred earth, Tommy brushed the dirt off of his trousers and turned around to face the approacher. He was right in the sense that he’d never seen the man before, but that wasn’t unusual. The Aedon Keep had many visitors and students and alumni that came in and out all the time every day though none of them had ever made a habit of walking all the way out to the training field.
This man, however, was dressed in royal silks, pins and bells braided into his dark hair and golden rings slid onto his fingers. Bangles and jeweled bracelets that jingled on his wrist that told everyone of his status. A mage of a royal court, and to say that Tommy was a little caught off-guard would be an understatement.
“M—My Lord.”
Instantly, Tommy found himself bowing, the title on his lips but the man held up a hand, rushing to get him to stand upright. “Oh, please, none of the formalities, please. Call me Wilbur, nothing else.”
“Wilbur…?” Looking around, Tommy didn’t see another soul in sight. Wasn’t really sure what the mage was doing out here, what he thought of the chaos that Tommy had just inflicted on his immediate surroundings, but it wasn’t hard to guess who he was and which court he belonged to. Tommy just had to wonder if this was the musician or the battle mage that left a trail of blood in his wake.
The younger mage had been trained in how to address members of a royal court, but now that Wilbur had told him to do the opposite, he stood awkwardly in front of the other man, unsure of what to do. Wilbur—however—kept talking for him.
“I don’t like formalities and titles,” he explained with a grimace. “I started just like you did, in Aedon. I was once a student, too, and I hated having to suck up to the nobles. So it’s no wonder that I don’t like when people use them for me. Still can’t really get used to it. Seems like yesterday that I just got here.”
Tommy gulped, suddenly seeing past the jewels and the gold at a person who had once been where he was. Had once studied and learned everything only to find himself in a seat of great power. Did he have problems controlling his magic as Tommy did? Would Tommy somehow find his way into a royal court even though he couldn’t even light a candle with his magic?
The older mage had a dazed smile on his face, unaware of the fidgeting the teenager was doing in front of him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re a conduit mage, correct?”
Tommy nodded, worrying a lip between his teeth. “Chaos, yes.”
“Chaos? Really?” Wilbur covered his mouth with his hand, eyes tracking the scorch marks on the grass, followed them to where they led into the forest. Tommy couldn’t tell if the look on his face was impressed or thoughtful or horrified. Perhaps it was a mix of all three.
He left Tommy in suspense for a moment until he spoke again. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a chaos mage before, and I’ve met a lot of people. What can you do?” Suddenly, with that one question, Tommy felt like he was under a microscope, being studied by the older mage, and there was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Weren’t they supposed to be assessing the abilities of the older students? Shouldn’t he be by his King’s side, helping him pick someone worthy of being in court? Why was he out here with Tommy who could do little else but destroy the grass and upset the wildlife?
“Um—” Tommy stumbled. “Not much.”
Wilbur looked between him and the ground where he’d just been kneeling. “‘Not much?’” He repeated, humming, nodding to himself, and it didn’t make the knot in Tommy’s stomach loosen.
“I can’t control it,” Tommy muttered, hating that he had to admit something like that to a mage of the highest caliber. Embarrassed that he couldn’t showcase his training like some of the other students at Aedon.
“You know they probably don’t tell you this here, but a lot of mages—especially conduits—have trouble controlling their power when they first get here.” And Tommy knows that Wilbur is trying to make him feel better, but what he doesn’t know is that the younger mage has been training for months and still couldn’t even begin to control harnessing his chaos. He’d gotten pretty good at keeping it bottled up, but at some point, he would always have to release it.
Still, he was talking to someone who had gotten his position of power because of Aedon, so maybe there was still something to learn. “Did you ever have trouble controlling your power? If—if you don’t mind me asking.”
A fond smile came over Wilbur’s face as he answered. “Yes, of course, I did. Didn’t think I had any power at all until I came to Aedon.” While he talked, he sauntered over to where Tommy had just been kneeling, bending down and placing a hand on the blackened dirt. “Blosma.” The Elden incantation fell from Wilbur’s lips with a soft sound, the echo of a raindrop on fallen leaves, the ancient language sounding more like a song than Tommy had ever heard it.
And right before the younger boy’s eyes, he saw the scorched grass’s revival. Green bloomed where there was once blackness, and the damage that Tommy had caused with his outburst was erased right in front of him. No evidence was left behind of what he had done. Tommy was around magic every day, witnessed incantations from his peers and instructors, but seeing it unfold in front of him by a stranger dressed like royalty was something else. A future that he could see for himself while also realizing that it probably would never happen.
There was no time to dwell on it, though, no time to ponder as another strange voice was heard behind him. “Wilbur! Philza’s looking for you!”
Turning, Tommy found a surly-looking man, dressed in ceremonial, golden armor walking down the field toward them. A sword was attached in the holster at his hip, dull if he had to guess, nothing but a prop to be used in court, but Tommy got the sense that the new stranger didn’t need a blade to be powerful.
Wilbur stood from his spot on the newly recovered ground, a hand going up to shield his eyes from the late-day sun. “Techno!” He waved, unbothered by the annoyance that could be found in the other man’s voice. “Come! Look who I’ve met!”
The man—Techno—approached with new curiosity as his eyes landed on Tommy. “Who’s this then?”
And Tommy ground his teeth together, unappreciative of the way the older man was talking like he wasn’t standing right in front of him. “My name’s Tommy. Who the fuck are you?”
He saw Wilbur cringe out of the corner of his eyes, and the younger mage thought he’d made a terrible mistake, but one glance at Techno told him the opposite. Taken aback though he was, he could see a surprised smile make its way onto Techno’s lips. Still, he clicked his tongue as if trying to keep up his feigned annoyance. “Alright. Apologies, Tommy. My name is Techno. I’m King Philza’s primary advisor and protector.”
“The most brutal blood mage in the realm,” Wilbur said mockingly.
Fondly.
Tommy grimaced, though he doesn’t know why. There’s a hint of jealousy at the fancy clothes and the jewelry and the statuses that the other men have, but most of all, he was jealous of how easy they made it look to be mages. Jealous of the camaraderie he could sense between the two. He had no hope of that, and so all of it made him bitter.
Techno turned his attention away from the younger mage to look at his fellow court member. “And you’ve just come out here to chat with the new students? Is that it, then?”
Glancing at Tommy, Wilbur smiled, his voice lowering a bit as if he were whispering a secret that only the three of them could know. “He’s a chaos conduit, Techno.”
If Tommy had been paying less attention, he would’ve missed the way Techno’s eyes widened minutely, the way his wrist flicked to fidget with his fingers. He waited a moment before speaking, a silent conversation passing between the two older magicians that Tommy couldn’t hope to decipher. “There hasn’t been a mage of chaos in years.”
“Really?” Tommy asked, his eyebrows furrowing, interrupting. No one had told him that, but now that he thought about it, there were no teachers with his alignment in Aedon. Even the rectoress had seemed at a loss for what to do with him. If what Techno was saying was true, then Tommy really was in over his head here.
Techno ignored his question, speaking to Wilbur instead, “So, you want to introduce him to Philza, then? Is that what you’re getting at?”
No, no, no.
This was all wrong. Tommy couldn’t be introduced to a king. He didn’t know half of what he was capable of, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to control it. There were still so many skills that he had to learn before being initiated into a royal court. He wasn’t ready. And the idea of being in front of a king, studied and judged, was something that he wouldn’t be able to handle.
“No, I can’t,” he said abruptly, cutting off whatever Wilbur was about to say. “I can’t meet the king.”
Wilbur could probably hear the panic in his voice, was sure that it was emanating from him in waves, as palpable as the breeze was. “He hasn’t learned how to control his magic yet,” Wilbur explained for him, and Tommy was thankful that he’d added on the yet. The younger had been under the impression for a long time that he would never really get a full grasp on his powers. Hearing a high-ranking mage say that had settled some kind of fire that Tommy hadn’t realized was raging.
Confused and resigned, Techno asked, “They haven’t taught you anything, have they?”
“I know the benefits and disadvantages of Nightshade,” Tommy replied lamely, remembering the lecture that he was forced to attend that morning.
Scoffing, Techno pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself. “Useless, I swear.” He sighed and looked up. “I remember learning about all that stuff, too. To this day, I still have no use for it. Leave that to the alchemists, I say. Chaos magic that can’t be controlled, though… That can’t be easy.”
“Easy?” Tommy bit out, huffing a bit, his brain throwing out everything about titles and superiors and respect, wanting to finally let everything out in one go. Everything that he’d been holding onto up to this moment spewed from his mouth in a geyser of regret. “How do you think it feels being the only one in a school for mages that can’t do any magic? All of my friends can do these amazing things, and every time that I even attempt to do anything, I embarrass myself. Don’t talk to me of easy.”
The two other magicians stared at him after his outburst was over, blinking in stunned silence before Techno smiled softly. “Why don’t I teach you something then.”
“What?” Shocked Tommy’s mouth clamped shut. “Really?”
“Why not?” Techno started, shrugging off his gold linen cape and passing it off to Wilbur. “I should be inside helping with the selection process, but it’s all drab in there. This seems like a much more beneficial and rather interesting option, and Philza might thank me for it later. Who knows?”
Tommy’s heart picked up in his chest. This wasn’t some instructor that had to follow the rules by the book, no. This was a royal mage with power and wealth and everything he could ever want at his disposal. He’d succeeded in the life that Tommy was trying so hard to obtain, and now he wanted to teach the younger mage.
“The first thing you learn about magic in Aedon is…?” Techno paused, looking to Tommy to supply the answer.
“‘There is a balance in all things,’” Tommy recited dutifully, remembering the way that it had been hammered into his head.
Nodding, Techno continued, straightening his back. “That’s right. The same is true with chaos as it is with something like fire or music or blood. There is always an opposite, a force working against you. What they’ll never tell you at Aedon is that you have to work with your enemy, bend and break with it.”
Tommy’s gaze had drifted back to the ground where he had unleashed all of his pent-up anger and dismay, let his magic burn and scorch the land on which he stood. “I’m not sure I’m understanding.”
“What’s the opposite of chaos, Tommy?” Wilbur prompted, his eyes alight as he looked between the two.
“Solace,” Tommy answered, blinking, and the only thing that he received in return was a small nod in confirmation.
“Find that calm part of your mind and channel your chaos through it,” Techno explained. “Work with both, and you’ll find that duality is much better than sole chaos.”
As Tommy pondered on what Techno was saying to him, he had to wonder: Was it really that easy? All this time, he’d been focusing on the bright wave of energy he was keeping hidden behind his ribs. Was the only way to access that power through being calm. Aedon had made him the opposite, paranoid that any day they would decide to do away with him, alert to all of the eyes watching him. His teachers and the other students gazed at him with enough pity to make him angry, temperamental.
“Is that it?” Tommy asked, hoping they would have something else to provide, but Techno’s shoulders raised and dropped in a shrug.
Grabbing his cloak from Wilbur, Techno threw it on the ground, making Tommy wince. The stains would be hard to get out, but the stains were the least of the cloak's worries when Techno waved a hand over the fabric and it ignited into flames. “Why don’t you try it? Put the fire out. Use the extinguishing incantation. You know it, don’t you?”
“Techno…” Tommy trailed off, a surge of doubts invading his mind without his permission. It really did sound simple when they said it, but being faced with a burning cloak with Feather Crests royal symbol on it was most intimidating.
“It’s Abathé,” Wilbur supplied, mistaking Tommy’s hesitance for inadequacy.
The only thing he could do was try. He’d been trying and failing for so long that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it, but what was it to fail again after so many times. Maybe the mages would finally see how incapable he was and move on to the students who definitely deserved their time.
He closed his eyes, trying to find the courage to ignore the heat behind his ribs and focus on the peaceful hum that his mind has very rarely known. He thought about when he first came to Aedon, the hope and the excitement of finally being taught what it was that he could do. He thought of the roaring fireplace at the front of the library, the hot meals they would serve in the mess hall during dinner. He thought of his friends that had always encouraged him, told him he was more than what he considered himself.
With a deep breath, Tommy opened his eyes, clinging on to the peace that those images brought him, and muttered the incantation under his breath.
“Abathé.”
Instead of the roaring rush of adrenaline that came with unleashing the power that he held inside of him, it felt more like a streamline of warmth emitting from the palms of his hands, the tips of his fingers. Swirling through the air as the wind picked up, he felt the magic caress the flames gently and then smother it down until it was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash and smoke.
“Yes! I fucking did it!” Tommy’s joyous outburst startled the other two, but he didn’t care. A laugh was tumbling out of his mouth in disbelief. He’d done it! He’d never been able to call upon his energy like that, for it to listen when he told it to do something.
Despite being startled, Techno and Wilbur both smiled, pleased with what they’d seen him do. Tommy was sure that it wasn’t as impressive as the battle magic that he’d heard tales and songs about, but it was more than he’d ever done before, and he was happy with that. He deserved to be here the same as the rest of them.
Techno turned to Wilbur, an impressed hum vibrating in his throat. “Let’s take him to Philza.”
───※ · ♛ · ※───
Tommy stood in front of the King of Feather Crest with a lip worried between his teeth and his fingers fidgeting in front of him. The rectoress was standing beside him, her lips pursed as the King gazed upon them.
If Tommy had thought that Wilbur was dressed to impress, then King Philza was dressed to rule. The king wore furs of animals that Tommy had never heard of, wore a crown of gold that sat atop his head in a shroud of power. Gold-plated armor decorated his chest, his kingdom’s crest engraved into the front of it.
The mages that Tommy had met early were saying something into the king’s ear, and even then, he could see King Philza was staring right at him, studying him in the way that Tommy feared he would. He wasn’t scared, anymore, though. He wasn’t perfect, had just started his journey on being able to harness and control his chaos, but he felt more confident than he ever had before.
He could do this.
Abruptly Philza raised his hand, waving Techno and Wilbur away from him as he stood from his chair. “I’ve been informed this young mage here is a conduit of chaos, correct?
“Yes, Majesty,” Tommy answered for himself, bowing his head out of respect. He knew that Wilbur had told him not to use titles, but things were a bit different when he was standing face to face with royalty.
Despite the presence that King Philza carried with him, there were laugh lines on his face, a twinkle in his eyes that reminded Tommy of his father of all people. Kind and generous, the King wasn’t someone that Tommy feared. Rather someone to fight for, and if he was lucky enough, if he said the right thing, then maybe he would be allowed to go back with him despite the lack of training and skill. “A Duality youth… That’s quite rare.”
The rectoress spoke up from beside Tommy. “Yes, Your Highness, but I implore you to reconsider some of the other students. This one is a novice at best. Barely trained—”
Philza held up a hand, cutting off the leader of the Aedon Keep. “His training will resume with us. Thank you, Puffy.” His tone left no room for argument, and Tommy could see the rectoress nod and avert her eyes.
That was it. There was no more to it than that. He might not be the most powerful mage at Aedon, but he was good enough to catch the eyes of two royal mages. And maybe they saw something in him that he couldn’t see himself. Maybe they knew something that he didn’t, but he was leaving Aedon tonight, that much he was sure of.
He was worthy, and he was going to spend the rest of his life proving that to the people who’d given him a chance.