The Pain of Magic

(Preview Chapter) Before the Court

Raishe, the court wizard , still wore the orange robe of an apprentice to the priests, priests of a civilization that he'd seen die. The robe had been given to him as a boy. That fallen kingdom, now ruins in the western desert, was where he learned magic. But the priests he had studied under had paid a terrible price for their ambitious misuse of it. He ate, slept, and worked in one simple room. His bed, desk, and chair were not ornamented by elaborate carvings, as you might expect from one living in a king's castle. In fact, his furniture wouldn't look out of place on a farm.

He concentrated on his work, a book of the history of former kings of Roullay, the city he lived in now, that the city's current king had commissioned. It suited him that the task did not require magic, but still let him draw the salary of a court wizard. If he allowed himself to be perfectly honest, he'd become terrified to use magic. He hadn't used it in six months. It was June. In December of last year, he'd used his magic to repel northern raiders from landing and pillaging. Using he'd destroyed many ships. He didn't really think anyone should be trusted to wield such power. He hoped privately that magic would die with him.

The page boy knocked softly on Raishe's door.

"Come in."

The boy slowly opened the door a little and stuck his head into the wizard's room.

"A, a summons, uh, from the king, My Lord Wizard."

Raishe turned around to look at the boy. He was nervous to the point of shaking. Blonde hair swept in front of his face, covering one eye. He was tall and thin, with pale skin, nearly white eyelashes, and freckles all over. He would be pretty, but his shyness and lack of confidence made him seem pathetic. Raishe had known him for three years now, and knew he was afraid of him. But he was used to everyone being afraid of him. Which was perhaps why he had become afraid of himself.

"Come on, Jean, what does the king want this time?"

Jean unrolled his scroll with a shaking hand. His blue eyes looked to be on the verge of tears. It made Raishe feel a mixture of pity and contempt for him.

"The king... uh, wishes you, to uh... uh..."

A long pause. Raishe was used to this, but today it seemed especially irritating. He wasn't sure why. The boy's face turned red, but he managed to concentrate finally after a while, enough to read from his scroll.

"Ahem. The king asks for you to attend a presentation concerning the future use of your Lordship's magical arts, in the grand ballroom."

The grand ballroom was an all-purpose room; court, ballroom, and throne room, but it was most commonly referred to just as the ballroom. It consisted of a large expanse of floor before the throne's stage, where nobles came for both joyful dance parties and solemn political affairs. It was referred to as the ballroom only though. Most people preferred to think of it as a place of pleasure, of feasts and dancing, not a place of the drudgery and pain of politics, stuffy official ceremonies, and trials. The nobles obsessed over their pleasures and were easily bored. It often seemed like King Brometh's job, and consequently Raishe's in his service, was to entertain the prominent nobles. To keep them happy.

However much kings talked about their power as if they did everything alone, Brometh needed their help. Brometh was not favorable to the concept of marriage and had no children. He was forty-eight, which was not terribly old, but old enough for talk to buzz. There were a few nobles who thought they might become king after Brometh died. Two or three major contenders Raishe was aware of. Possibly more, since he paid little attention to rumors among the nobility. He worried that if Brometh did die, there would be blood. And Raishe would have to choose a side, which he desperately did not want to have to do.