The Ring of Raphael #1
This is a little story about magic, love, and finding yourself that I've been working on for a while. Here is the first part; I hope you enjoy it!
The young sorceress paced nervously, looking across the yellow plains of Asphodel, made even more yellow by the sunset to the west. From the roof of the academy, she could see for miles. It was as if the entire world was looking back at her, an endless infinity of possibilities. What lay in waiting beyond the horizon? As exciting as the Academy was compared to her early life on her father’s farm, she had already begun to grow anxious, impatiently looking to the next adventure. It would be years, at least five more, until she completed her studies.
Rhea sighed. Five more years, she thought. That was a full third of her current age, a huge number, practically a death sentence to wait for. She ran her fingers through her curly, red hair. Will there even be any adventures waiting for me by the time I leave?
She fidgeted with the ring on her right hand. Her father had given it to her before she left as a token of good fortune. She wasn’t accustomed to wearing jewelry, and it still felt heavy and strange on her finger. It was as if the ring always wanted to be noticed, always wanted Rhea to look down and see it. Rhea herself couldn’t be any farther away from that notion. She preferred to stay hidden and unnoticed, which is probably why she took so well to skiamancy, the study of illusions, invisibility, and shadows.
Coming down from the north, Rhea saw a group of riders on horseback approaching on the field. They were tiny from her vantage point, but she could discern the color of their banners. Blue and yellow, the colors of Brennan, lord of the various mountain tribes. They rarely came down from the highlands.
“Are you okay, Rhea?”
She jumped and spun around. It was the voice of Theseus, her master and tutor. She was so absorbed in watching the riders that she hadn’t heard him join her on the roof.
“Yes, master,” Rhea said. “I was just…I was in contemplation.”
“You mean you were hiding on the roof,” Theseus said. He smiled knowingly before she could protest. “It’s fine. You should know by now that I’m not the kind of teacher who would presume to tell you the best way to spend your free time.”
Theseus was strict, but kind. He had taught at the Academy for longer than most of the masters, and with that came a more nuanced and openminded perspective about how magic should be communicated to young sorcerers and sorceresses. Rhea could never figure out exactly how old he was. He had a beard of gray, with no hair on his head, but his eyes were bright and he moved like a young man.
“I really was in contemplation,” Rhea said, frowning. She looked back down, but the riders were no longer visible. Presumably, they had entered the courtyard of the academy. “There were riders coming in from the north.”
“I saw,” Theseus said. “Very interesting, yes?”
“Yes…”
Rhea waited for him to elaborate, but quickly realized that his hesitation was an invitation for her to give him her own analysis of the situation. A lesson, as always.
“Yes, interesting,” she said. “The mountain tribes are united loosely. They all swear fealty to Lord Brennan, but in practice, they mostly live independently. The only times they really operate under a single banner is in times of great need. War, famine, plagues. That sort of thing.”
“And yet, now they send riders out from their territory under the banner of the lord who represents them all only in times of need,” Theseus said. He was allowing her to think out loud, while still leading her to the correct conclusion.
“Right,” Rhea said. “So obviously, whatever they carry are ill tidings. And they’ve come here, to the Academy. Presumably, they’d send emissaries to the other lords if they were preparing for war.”
The Academy was neutral territory. No lord’s banners flew here, only the sigils of the various gods worshipped throughout all lands. It was a reservoir of knowledge and study, a deep pool of lore from which all nations could drink.
“They seek counsel,” she said finally. “To solve an internal dispute, or ward off some natural disaster. A god is angry with them, perhaps. They want the kind of wisdom that the other lords can’t give.”
“Well done,” Theseus said, smiling proudly. “Your insight serves you well. The mountain tribes would never send messengers to the Academy unless they were desperate. They are stubborn and proud, and they prefer their own counsel above all others. Something grave is surely stirring in the north.”
“We should go see what they want,” Rhea said.
“When the time comes for you to participate in the dispensation of scholarly counsel, then you will be summoned to the audience chambers,” Theseus said. “But for now, that is not your place.”
“But how else am I to learn?” Rhea protested. “Please, master. Isn’t that the best chance to learn, by observing the masters?”
“I’m proud of the progress you’ve made,” Theseus said. “In the year that you’ve been here, you’ve proven yourself more than worthy of the faith I placed in you when I chose you as my student. But you are still young, and you still have your place, as we all do. Keep your mind focused on the tasks ahead of you. Continue in good faith, and you will see your diligence rewarded.”
“Yes, master,” Rhea said, sulking. She watched Theseus walk to the rooftop door that led back into the Academy’s main chambers. He would surely be joining the other masters in the audience chamber. Whenever visitors came seeking knowledge, they would be received there and petition the top scholars of the Academy for aid. That was the primary task of the masters, to solve disputes and offer counsel. One day, Rhea would sit among them, and she wouldn’t be stuck on top of the roof imagining what was happening below.
A thought crossed Rhea’s mind. She tried to push it away, but it stayed stubbornly. She was excellent in skiamancy, after all. It would be an easy trick to turn herself invisible and sneak down into the audience chamber. It was risky, of course, as any of the masters could easily be alerted to her aura's presence despite her invisibility...
Rhea looked west to the setting sun. She could do this. She wouldn't get close, just near enough to listen, somewhere at the back of the room. It was as good as any lesson, to observe the masters in their element, especially for something as significant as a group of emissaries from the mysterious mountain clans.
Her mind was made up. Rhea closed her eyes and concentrated, centering herself on her aura and the magical energy it produced, the source of her powers.
"Exafanizomai," she muttered softly, feeling the energy pour out of her. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at her hand and saw nothing. The spell had worked, and she quickly darted inside.