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Clovicus let out a deep breath.
“He’s a good boy. He’s smart, and clever, and kind. With a little patience, and a lot of training and guidance, he’s going to be a fantastic enchanter someday.”
Repeating the phrase like a mantra, Clovicus inhaled another breath. Steeling himself, he put on his stern teacher face and stepped out his front door.
His apprentice—Enchanter-in-training Evariste, or “Lord Evariste of the Fire Gates,” as his schoolmates insisted on calling him—was laying on his back on the grassy lawn in front of Clovicus’s estate. He was throwing a ball up and down in the air.
The fool boy was going to pop himself in the face at this rate.
“ Evariste,” Clovicus said with a sigh, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
Sure enough, at the sound of his name, Evariste’s attention diverted to his master, and the ball smacked the young boy square on the cheek.
“Master Clovicus!” Evariste grinned cheekily, completely ignoring that he’d just walloped himself in the face as he scrambled to sit upright and crossed his legs. Today the young mage was wearing an expansive black cloak with a silver embellished shirt and steel gray trousers. A purple salamander skittered across the boy’s shoulders before leaping into the nearby pond Clovicus had built for Evariste’s persistent band of visiting creatures.
Still grinning, the boy didn’t look the least bit chagrined for being caught out unprepared on the lawn.
“Are you ready to depart for your training?” Clovicus asked sourly, still waiting on the day when his pupil would cobble together more than two brain cells. Somehow, the child managed to be an absolute prodigy and an absolute idiot at the same time.
That’s youth for you, I suppose.
Evariste only continued grinning up at him, completely oblivious to Clovicus’s surly inner monologue. “Absolutely!” he chirped happily. “Can we get started?”
“In a minute,” Clovicus cautioned, looking over the young boy. “And where is your explorer’s pack, Evariste?”
Evariste’s shoulders slumped as he deflated with a heavy sigh. “Do I really need it? We’re only going to be gone for an hour—”
“What have I said about leaving without your explorer’s pack?” Clovicus cut him off sharply. The young boy glowered at the grass in front of him.
“Your powers are phenomenal, Evariste, but you’re still new at using them.” Clovicus stated, exasperated. “What if—”
“What if I wind up in an odd realm and there is dark magic on the other side, or magic doesn’t work the same, or I trip on my face and knock myself out,” Evariste parroted along with Clovicus in the universal tone common to all teenagers who resented hearing the same instructions over and over again.
Clovicus gave Evariste his best frown and crossed his arms. “Yes. What if those things happen? Do you want to be stuck in another realm, unable to support yourself for days on end, evading creatures with nothing but the clothes on your back as you struggle to survive?”
“Yes,” Evariste said stubbornly, his mischievous eyes shining like the idea was nothing more than some grand adventure.
“Go.” Clovicus pointed a stern finger back at the house.
Evariste, huffing an exaggerated, aggravated sigh, stood himself up and tromped toward the front door. It swung shut behind him louder than necessary and Clovicus struggled to remember he was here to train , not maim , the child.
And he was a child. Evariste was an incredible magic user—a prodigy really—and Clovicus knew he was going to do great and wonderful things someday… if the boy could learn some good, common sense before then.
Clovicus thought back to Evariste’s graduation from Luxi Domus, the Veneno Conclave’s magical training academy. He’d been an exceptionally bright student and had easily swept through his classes. He’d been a top student and was shaping up to be a respectably handsome lad. With his acumen and cheerful demeanor, the entire Continent was practically in love with him. Although he couldn’t deny that Evariste had every right to be proud of his talents, it also served to make him a very mischievous, arrogant, and undaunted young boy. He was just as likely to succeed at a fire spell as to set himself on fire when he wasn’t focusing, and Clovicus had wrangled him away from the other fool instructors at the school to make sure he got some proper training.
He needed it. Evariste’s portal gates travelled not just the Continent, but also realms. Part of his schooling had to include testing the limits of his portal magic powers, both for Continental transport and interdimensional transport. Someone had to make sure the zealous lad didn’t accidentally leave an arm behind somewhere, or jump into a dimension from which he could never return. There were real risks in helping Evariste master his magic, risks which when he pointed them out, were why so many of the other volunteer instructors had ceded their interest in Evariste as a student to him.
Clovicus looked at his own pack of materials while he waited for Evariste to return. A handful of potions to heal a variety of ailments; gems with stored magic power in case the boy needed a boost in a more difficult realm, and a litany of other basic survival items. His fingers ran absently over a bookmark he carried as well, a reminder of his library chair and his books and his workshop. It was engraved with a picture of his home on one side and a picture of their chairs by the fireplace on the other.
The bang of the door opening wide caught his ear and he turned to observe his wayward student. Evariste, looking sullen as he carried the brown pack across his shoulder, stomped his way back to Clovicus.
He’s almost certainly mad that it doesn’t match his outfit, Clovicus surmised. He’d have to buy the boy another one. Better to get him a few he was interested in using than worry about him running off through a gate without one on his own sometime.
If only he spent half as much time preparing for these excursions as he does coin on his wardrobe. Though I suppose that’s my fault, allowing him to spend his allowance so frivolously. But then, it is his money, earned off his commissions.
Clovicus fought to keep the strain of warring principles from showing on his face. Children should come with a manual. Magical, brilliant, and brilliantly stubborn ones even more so.
Turning his thoughts back to the task at hand, he fixed Evar with his best teacher stare. “Do you have your talisman?” he asked, watching as the boy scratched the back of his head.
“Yes,” Evariste said, but Clovicus wasn’t fooled. Evariste’s jaw always dipped a little lower and he spoke a little slower when the boy lied. It was a subtle tell—one that had taken Clovicus the better part of a year to really nail down—but it was accurate.
“Do you want to be someone else’s apprentice, boy?” Clovicus asked him, eyes narrowed. Evariste rolled his eyes and bent over, plucking a flower from the ground. Holding it up for Clovicus’s inspection, he picked up his chin stubbornly.
“There. I have one now. You’re happy, right? Can we go now? Please?” Evariste asked, practically bouncing on his feet.
“No,” Clovicus said flatly. “Go back. Get a good one.”
“But the flower came from home!” Evariste insisted, whining.
“What are you going to do if your flower shrivels up when you go through your gate, Evariste?” Clovicus asked, pinching his nose again. “What does your talisman do, Evar?”
Evar sighed as he flicked the flower aside. “It helps me to focus when I need to return…”
“Exactly,” Clovicus concurred. “Once you’ve mastered your magic more you likely won’t need one, but for now—”
“I know, I know,” Evar interrupted, dragging his feet as he stalked back toward the house again. A minute later he returned. Lifting his sullen hand, he held up a bookmark, conveniently matching Clovicus’s own. He’d had them made as a matching set when he’d taken on Evariste as an apprentice.
“Very good.” Clovicus said, and Evar stepped up beside his mentor.
Clovicus elected to ignore the boy’s sullen mood as he scowled at the earth and gripped the straps of his explorer pack. Clearing his throat, he attempted to brighten his tone to project a sense of calm. “Now, make one of your dimensional gates. Is there a particular dimension you want to visit today?”
This was always the most frantic part of the expedition for Clovicus. Since he never knew where Evariste would portal them to, and since Evar only had so much control over his portal environments, he had to be ready for everything. One time they’d materialized over the sheer edge of a cliff, and that had been an adventure and a half, one the quickly aging enchanter hoped never to repeat.
“Somewhere new!” Evariste said excitedly. His hands were already glowing as an archway with rocks and fire began assembling in front of them.
Clovicus waited patiently as Evar’s portal slowly materialized before them. New gates always took more time so it would be a few minutes.
At least Evariste was a bit more careful about stepping through the portals now. How he’d survived his early years, Clovicus had no idea. The stars must have a plan for him.
Or, so he thought. Almost as soon as the archway was built, Evariste eagerly stepped forward. Clovicus darted a hand forward to haul the wayward rascal back by the neck of his ostentatious cloak.
“Do I need to get the tether, Evariste?” Clovicus asked frostily as his charge stilled, then shivered. Clovicus had literally roped them together for their first few interrealm travels. Evariste had hated it, but but it had come in handy when they’d portaled into the center of a deep water world and he’d had to pull Evariste out of the current and back through the portal to home.
“No, Master Clovicus,” Evariste said.
“Are you sure?” Clovicus prodded as the pair stood side by side in front of the gate. Clovicus, adjusted his hold on his satchel. “Because I have no problem wrapping the tether around your insolent little neck and hauling you in front of your bourgeoning fanbase back at Luxi Domus if—”
The dismayed look on Evariste’s face made the older enchanter cough to conceal his chuckle. Ruffling Evar’s hair, he let up from his teasing.
When Evariste looked suitably prepared, Clovicus nodded. “And step,” he instructed, and the two magic users simultaneously stepped into the shimmering portal.
…only to find an enormous troll on the other side. The exceedingly large creature sniffed the air heavily before turning in their direction. From where they stood, Clovicus could see the troll hovering over its most recent kill…before it decided to hover over them, dwarfing them with its massive size.
Evar looked simultaneously thrilled and terrified. Clovicus sighed as he threw up a shield before them, the heavy arm of the surprised creature thudding into it ominously.
Evariste, snapping into action and eager to practice his other magics, was already calling a number of vines and plants to bind the creature’s legs.
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Clovicus muttered, but even he couldn’t completely conceal a smile as soon-to-be Enchanter Evariste went head to head with a powerful adversary in a foreign realm.
He really will be unstoppable some day.
His good mood soured when Evar, in his hubris, attempted to hitch a ride on the troll’s massive club to get closer. The boy yelped when his feet lifted off the ground and the troll waved him about in the air. Eventually, he lost his grip on the wooden club and fell to the ground, yipping like one of his creatures even as he softened his landing with a quick cushion of wind.
“Stop trying to shake its hand and be careful, boy!” Clovicus shouted from his own location, zapping the troll with another spell to give his charge time to recover. “You may be a passable spell caster but you’re still breakable. Ratchet down your arrogance, you little whelp!”
“Yes, Master Clovicus!” came Evariste’s strong but still too-cheerful reply.
He’s having fun with this, Clovicus realized with another deep sigh.
“He’s a good boy,” Clovicus repeated through his teeth, yet again convincing himself of his oft repeated mantra. “He’s smart, and clever, and kind. With patience and training and a whole mountain’s worth of chores I am going to assign him to make up for this nonsense, he’s going to be a fantastic enchanter someday.”
Then Clovicus sat back and sighed, content to watch as his apprentice magicked circles around the troll, until it was immobilized into harmless sleep.
*-*-*-*
Seven hours later—and significantly later than either of them had planned—Clovicus had never been so happy to stumble out of Evar’s return portal in front of their house.
After defeating the troll they had wandered through the forest, examining a variety of unique fungi and foliage. Evar had insisted on touching a pink spotted mushroom, which had turned out to be a very bad idea, to no one’s surprise but the boy’s own. He’d launched into a sneezing fit, then giggled uncontrollably until one of the health recovery potions fully kicked in.
Then they’d encountered some form of odd rabbit-like creature, with wings and antlers. Evar had insisted the beast was intelligent and declared they would become friends, running along after it. Clovicus had disagreed but dutifully followed. After getting them well and thoroughly lost, the strange animal really did seem to become taken with Evariste. Eventually it flew onto his shoulder and directed them to a small spring.
Though there had been danger there as well. Evar had nearly lost his toes to what looked like a massive angry turtle, and after they both slipped into a cleverly hidden mud hole while following some sort of wispy pixie, Clovicus had insisted they use a stick to test the ground.
So, hours later, muddy, mentally and physically exhausted, and half wondering if one of the odd sprites they’d encountered had deliberately bitten a hole through his trousers, Clovicus was ecstatic to return home.
“Clovicus? Is that you?”
The enchanter could have groaned hearing the voice. A visitor. Why is there a visitor? I don’t even like people enough to have visitors. In fact, I don’t like people at all. What is this nonsense?
However, he reigned in his displeasure enough to identify the speaker. It was Enchanter Alden, a decent fellow who had a good head on his shoulders and mostly left Clovicus alone, which was about the highest compliment Clovicus could give him.
Resigning himself to be at least moderately personable, Clovicus drew himself to standing. “Enchanter Alden, it is rare to see you visiting my home.”
“Indeed,” the amenable man agreed. “However, I’ve just taken on my own apprentice, and as we were travelling nearby in the area, thought it would be good to introduce him to you. Apprentice Irving, meet Enchanter Clovicus, one of the finest minds of our generation. Clovicus, this is Irving, who is just starting his apprenticeship but will make a fine Enchanter some day.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master Clovicus,” the young man said, inclining his head respectfully to the senior mage.
“Apprentice Irving,” Clovicus began, but was quickly interrupted.
“Another apprentice? Really?” Evariste beamed brilliantly, cutting into the conversation.
Clovicus’s patience withered. “And that would be my apprentice, who is, I am afraid to say, the reason we are completely disheveled and covered in mud.”
“You are Enchanter-in-Training Evariste?” Irving blinked. “You look…younger than I thought you were. Though, of course, I had heard that you were quite young. And skilled!” the young apprentice rushed to add, trying not to cause offense.
“I’m surprised you didn’t have any classes together,” Clovicus stated, gesturing toward the house, welcoming the visitors into their home.
“We were in separate years. I crossed paths with him a handful of times on campus but it seems like that was ages ago.” The young apprentice looked hesitantly between the two dirt-crusted mages. “Master Alden, should I be preparing for something similar when we conduct earth magic training?”
Enchanter Alden laughed as Clovicus shifted his stare at the oblivious Evariste, who was still grinning as they walked, maneuvering himself closer to the visiting apprentice.
“No,” Clovicus explained. “This is because—”
“We went on a proper adventure!” Evariste preened, nose in the air, clearly proud of himself.
“We landed in a foreign realm and like an addled crow chasing shiny objects, you followed a firefly with legs into a mudhole.”
“What he means to say is I opened a portal into another realm and after conducting appropriate ecological and zoological studies, we have returned much enlightened, if a bit disheveled,” Evariste said without the least bit of concern for the vein bulging in Clovicus’s forehead.
“Call it what you will, Evariste, but you smell like the bad end of a donkey,” Clovicus amended.
“A magical, other-realm donkey!” Evar crowed, gloating.
“That’s it. You’re washing up outside.”
“It shall be done,” Evar agreed, still grinning.
“And we’re throwing out that cloak.”
Now Evar gasped, looking truly affronted. “Master Clovicus! This is my finest woolen cloak!”
“It is your finest woolen mudpie now, and considering you are not a goat, or any form of animal that eats mud or cloaks, it is useless to you,” Clovicus insisted.
“Well what luck that we have Luxi Domus’s very finest apprentice mage, Sir Irving, here with us!” Evar dipped behind the older mage, but younger student, as if he would shield him from Clovicus’s wrath. “Irving, help me spell this to get the mud off,” the persuasive boy demanded, waving the apprentice to follow him at great speed behind the house.
“And the smell, Evar!” Clovicus called after him. “Don’t either of you enter my house with a speck of mud on you or the smallest wisp of whatever foul stench we picked up in that bog!”
“Got it!” Evar’s voice echoed back as the pair rounded behind the house toward the stables.
Enchanter Alden managed to hold in his laughter until the boys rounded the bend. Bending at the knee, laughing until he cried, the visiting enchanter had to wipe literal tears from his face as Clovicus stood and glowered.
Finally, Clovicus cut into the man’s extreme humor at his expense. “Are you quite finished?” he asked sourly.
“I’m sorry, my friend. It’s just…mentoring has never looked so good on you,” Alden said, gesturing at Clovicus’s mud spattered clothes before breaking into another round of laughter.
Clovicus sighed and, waving his hand with a spell, lifted the dirt, grime, and yes, scent, from his clothes.
That finished, the pair of enchanters resumed their walk inside, ignoring the excited sounds, yelps, and splashes coming from behind the house as the two apprentices engaged in whatever nonsense was going on.
“So how is it, supervising the Continent’s boy genius?” Alden asked as they entered the warm interior of Clovicus’s home. A snap of the finger and the room bloomed to life, with a sturdy fire and a swiftly brewing tea kettle.
“Exhausting, but worthwhile, though I’ll deny I ever said that.”
Alden chuckled again. “Entertaining too, it sounds like.”
The pair paused as they heard another yelp from outside. “Sorry!” Irving shouted.
“No, no. It’s fine!” Evar called back. “I can fix it. Though perhaps try not to fling boiling water. You’re infusing the gesture too much. Here, do it like this…”
Shaking their heads, the two masters settled down in Clovicus’s overstuffed chair to catch up, the sounds of their students periodically echoing in from outside.
Eventually the apprentices returned, significantly more soaked than before, but well and truly clean.
Pleased, Evar hung up his freshly cleaned cloak to dry by the fire, asking the visiting apprentice about his studies. The boy easily got the other man talking and laughing, and the time passed quickly before both the visiting apprentice and master were saying their goodbyes.
Even Evar looked wiped by the time they were finally able to go to bed.
“Goodnight, Master Clovicus,” Evar yawned, offering his nightly gratitude for Clovicus’s instruction. “Thank you for your teaching today.”
Clovicus grunted—his usual response to the unnecessary thanks—and pulled out a book for some light reading. With his energetic pupil, who knew when he would get another spare moment?
Though in the quiet of his thoughts, Clovicus could admit that as frustrating as Evar could be, he was terribly proud of him. Evariste was a cheeky boy to be sure, but he had confidence that someday, the boy would be all right.
Clovicus turned the page and watched as, from the depths of his trousers, one of the winged pixies that lead them to that accursed bog appeared and floated across the length of the living room.
His eyes widened as he watched it attempt to open a nearby encyclopedia. How long has that been in there?
Then, his eyes narrowed. I take it back. He’s a menace. And he still has all those chores to do!