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Priest-wizard Beren had not expected to be summoned to a private meeting with the High Priest of the Sun. He was not the most junior of the imperial priest wizards, but he had also risen about as high as he expected he ever would, and that didn’t include spontaneous summons from a high priest. So it was with some trepidation that he entered the high priest Araniver’s office, where she was already in animated discussions with Tacen, the Lord Priest of Rituals. They both cut off as he knocked on the door and entered with a polite bow to each of them.
“Ah, Beren,” Araniver greeted him politely. “There are some questions about the purification rituals of the new Emperor. I wanted your opinion on them.”
“Of course, high priest. Were there issues with the Marwn?” Beren was far too experienced to show his confusion or concern, but there certainly had been some…oddities about the man.
“Yes. The Marwn. Who is clearly an experienced wild mage.” The subtle emphasis Tacen put on “experienced” left no doubt as to what he was concerned about. He carried himself with the confident assurance that he knew what was best in all situations, and Beren was fascinated to see that he didn’t drop that even in the presence of one of the high priests.
“Indeed. Beren, you led the team who brought him back, what do you think?” Araniver was a perfect noblewoman, cool and unemotional, utterly unflappable, and her attention was as intense as the sun she represented.
Beren wanted to grimace. He had wondered if this would come up. “He is unquestionably a powerful wild mage, high priest. The Marwn bindings seem to have allowed him to develop that magic without the usual effects.” He hesitated for a moment, but if they already suspected, then there was no reason not to confirm it. “And he wasn’t wearing anything that would have been provided to him in the tower when we met him there. I find it unlikely that he was in that tower for all these years. He certainly was less happy to see us than I’d expect of someone with no human contact for over a decade.”
“But he didn’t give you any trouble?” Araniver asked mildly.
“No…” Beren hedged. “But the initial stabilization anchors had already transitioned to him, and they were still settling. When we collected him, he was hardly capable of doing more than following directions.” That was a generous way of describing the flattened, exhausted man that he had met at the base of that far off tower. The wild magic had sparked around him, trying to fight off the bindings even as they settled into the Marwn’s essence. He had feared, at first, that he was witnessing the first stages of wild magic burnout, but closer examination revealed that the anchors were instead anchoring in his magic, using it to fuel the bindings even as they pulled the magic from his control.
“And Tacen, you’ve been responsible for the initial purification rituals. I assume you would have said something sooner if he was being uncooperative?”
“Yes, high priest,” Tacen said cautiously. “But if he is Angursell, is it wise to invest him as the heart of the Pax? He’s already proven that he won’t fulfill his duties willingly. He broke his bonds and abandoned his responsibilities to go traipse around the empire stirring up trouble. He certainly knew the importance of his role, and failed to do it regardless. How could we possibly trust him with the power of the Emperor and the trust of the Empire?”
“I understand your concerns,” Araniver said. “But much about this situation is unique. As Beren said, he was able to develop a gift for wild magic because of the Marwn bindings. But he was still bound to the empire. It’s true that he left his tower,” an elegant gesture dismissed that as irrelevant, “but he did not lose his role. He was at the tower when the need arose, and the anchor bindings are settling in with only minor complications.” Tacen looked like he wanted to protest the description of the effects as “minor complications”, but held his tongue. “The fact is, we have his name and the blood that pledged him to the empire. He cannot break those bindings, and he cannot abandon the role of emperor. He is the best possible candidate to anchor the Pax Astandalas, by both blood and magical preparation. He will serve his purpose.”
“But he’s a rebel ,” protested Tacen.
“What of it?” Araniver’s tone was uncompromising. “He would hardly be the first emperor to have a rebellious youth. And the house of Damara has always tended to idealists. Once he is crowned, his history is irrelevant. He will be the Emperor. He will fulfill his role, or he will be managed. He is hardly likely to do more damage than Shallyr would have.”
“Should we at least proactively manage him?” Tacen suggested. “It would be easiest to add those bindings during the transition, before the Marwn bindings have been entirely lifted.”
Only a lifetime of practice kept Beren from showing his horror. He grasped for a way to express both the bone-deep sense of blasphemy he felt at the idea, and the sympathy for the man who had done everything expected of him, though he was clearly suffering. “He’s still the Emperor ,” he managed.
“He’s still a wanted criminal,” Tacen retorted.
Araniver held up his hand to stop the two of them. “Beren is right. We are priests of the empire, it is the Emperor who is our god and leader, and we cannot forget that.” She looked sternly at Tacen, “We can’t ever be seen to forget that.”
Tacen did not look remotely chastised, but did, at least, respectfully lower his eyes and shift his hands to indicate apology.
Araniver continued, “We will bind him to the Pax Astandalas, and I expect that the weight of the empire alone will be sufficient to hold him.” She smiled grimly, more a grimace than an expression of pleasure. “He has been a powerful wild mage. If he has enough presence of mind to be able to manage more than his own basic needs once the binding are complete, it will be a minor miracle.
“Nonetheless. Beren, you are experienced in handling wild magic. I want you to review the necessary rituals and propose any modifications necessary to ensure that the rituals will not unduly harm him. We cannot afford to lose another member of the imperial family so soon. Tacen, I trust your ability to manage the purification rituals, but do not hesitate to ask myself or Beren if you have any concerns or alterations that you need to make.”
“High priest,” Tacen said, polite, but apparently undeterred, “What if the rebels come for him?”
She shrugged. “We will be prepared for them, of course. But without their wild mage, I expect their exploits are at an end. The group was always too diverse to have any other clear thread binding them.”
Beren wondered at her confidence. No doubt she had further intelligence on the group than was available to him, he though. Perhaps she wasn’t even surprised to discover that the new Emperor was an infamous wild mage.
She surveyed the two of them, and nodded at whatever she saw there. “Naturally, this discussion does not leave this room. The emperor will serve, as he must, but there is no reason to give doubt room to grow in the public. Beren, your discretion in this matter already is noted and appreciated.”
He flushed as he bowed acknowledgement. The high priest was gracious in interpreting it that way, and they both knew it.
She gestured dismissal, and they both bowed. Tacen departed, but Beren hesitated in his bow before he left. When he rose, Araniver was studying him.
“You think us heartless,” she observed.
Beren was, in fact, appalled. With that much wild magic, binding the anchors of the Pax into the Marwn was an act of breathtaking cruelty, as he knew better than most. He could not, of course, say as much. “High priest…” he began his denial.
Araniver cut him off with a wave. “You know full well that wild magic is incompatible with a civilized society. It is why wild mages cannot survive under the Pax. He has been remarkably fortunate to have escaped the usual price, and we have all been witness to the consequences of allowing a wild mage to run free in the empire. The empire will be safer without that chaos.” She considered him for a moment before continuing. “He will lose his magic, certainly, but he will survive the process, which is more than most wild mages can say. I trust your knowledge to ensure that he does so with the least possible amount of damage. And once he no longer hears the destabilizing call of the Wild, I have no doubt that the responsibilities of his upbringing will re-assert themselves and remind him of the necessity of civilization.”
“Of course, high priest,” he said, as neutrally as he could manage. “I understand.”
“Given your history, your sympathy for wild mages is unfortunate, but understandable.” Araniver observed. She did not say it was a liability, but Beren heard it nonetheless. “And you have a wealth of expertise in the subject that has become extremely relevant. Once the emperor is crowned, we will need someone close to him who can keep an eye on the bindings to ensure they are settling correctly.” She raised an elegant eyebrow at Beren. “If everything goes well, you would be an excellent candidate.”
Beren had worked hard to be in a position where he could ever be in a room alone with one of the high priests. He had always known he could only rise so high, that he would never be welcome in the council of priests that advised the emperor. This, he knew, was the opportunity to change that. It was cruel. But Araniver was correct that it was also necessary. He could, at least, try to minimize how bad it would be.
He bowed again. “I understand, high priest, you are most gracious. Thank you for your consideration.”
Araniver inclined her head, and once again gestured dismissal.
This time, Beren went.