The Prophesy: Book 2 - The Right Hand of Destiny

 

Prime's bells had barely gone silent when Nestor, accompanied by princes Harp, Paschal, Sitar, and Enron walked in the Grand Hall, where students and staff assembled to walk in procession into the Refectory for breakfast. Also present in the Hall were the Grand Masters of the Order of the Light, in a very specific order, depending on their importance to the order, and additional members of the Order, that had been coming and going to bid the work of their respective leadership.

The appearance of the princes with Great Grand Master Nestor did not at first elicit comments, as they were virtual unknowns to the people present. Most ignored them, thinking they were new students, but the noise gradually increased as they kept walking to the forefront of the procession rather than stay back with the novices, whom, by custom, were the last to enter the Refectory.

The increasing volume did not go unnoticed by the teachers or the members of the Order. At first, they had no idea of the cause for the disturbance, given the size of the Grand Hall and the number of people, numbering several thousands, which milled around near their assigned place in the forming procession. Try as they might, they could not see the diminutive figures of the princes, hidden as they were by the taller students. All they could see was a wave preceding Nestor by a couple of feet, no more. They grew nervous, some of the most anxious going so far as pulling their wand in a defensive gesture.

Finally, Nestor and the princes reached the first group of teachers, that worked with the non-magical children or the potential children that had not yet come into their magic, according to the yearly tests. These teachers comprised about half of the teaching body, and represented all non-magical professions, from woodsmen to astronomers, from scribes to mathematics. Of course, there were also military trainers; the college was an autonomous, self-sustaining entity that benefited, by King's Patent, of extraterritoriality; it therefore had to have its own defence forces, and internal police.

Nestor walked through the group, holding Harp's hand on his right, and Enron's on his left, as Paschal and Sitar walked in front of the trio. The teachers opened their ranks in front of Nestor's retinue with deference, wondering who these children might be. They too began talking loudly behind them as the group progressed further forward, adding to the noise level. Questions fused, speculations ran wild, and propositions for the most obscure explanations were exposed and immediately countered.

The next group of teachers, albeit smaller than the non-magical instructors, was still considerable, since it targeted apprentice sorcerers and sorceresses. These were by far the most numerous of the magically inclined students, since, after apprenticeship, the students were encouraged to go out in the world and find themselves small learning groups under a master, and to spend ten to twenty years exploring both the world and their magic. Their passage through this Companionship generally was difficult, and many lost their lives trying things that were above their capacity. Companions quickly learned which Master was worthy of trust and who was not. And good Masters even more quickly found their Companion load was considerable, easily numbering in the hundreds. Of one thousand Companions, only a score ever graduated to Master level. Some of these Masters were invited to teach at the College, for teaching was on invitation only.

The group, led by Nestor, passed through the Masters rapidly to reach the next group of teachers, those that had reached Mastery of the second tiers; these were teachers Mages that reached sufficient competence to teach to Masters and help them progress in their field of choice. By now, their numbers could have fitted easily around a large room's periphery. Nestor did not stop there, but continued to progress and pass through the Masters of third tiers, to finally reach the Grand Masters; their numbers barely reached the lower fifties. The stunned faces, as the princes kept up with Nestor, were to behold. Nestor pointedly ignored all disapproving smirks: after all he was the Dean of the College, and would not put up with any disrespect. His frowns discouraged any open confrontation.

The next group was composed of the Order of the Light leadership, mostly Grand Masters, but, interspersed within the group were Masters and an occasional Companion or Acolyte, that were there as low level assistants and bell boys. The two later groups would serve their respective master or grand master during the upcoming meal. The leadership of the Order of the light, composed of nine Grand Masters and two masters completing their passage to grand mastery, looked upon Nestor questioningly, wondering if the old man had not lost his mind by bringing four children with him.

Nestor waved his hand dismissively and walked through, not bothering to look at any of the Order's leadership. Once ahead of everyone, he stopped, and, in accordance to precedence, pushed Harp, Sitar and Paschal ahead, while retaining gently Enron between him and the three Wolf princes. This would make the hierarchy clear to everyone: he was below Enron, himself a vassal of the three Wolf Princes.

The shock was total; silence gradually descended on the crowd, as each member of the procession rapidly took his or her position and stayed immobile. Silent with surprise, everyone eyed each other and speculated on the meaning of what those ahead had let filter out from the first ranks.

Suddenly, Harp hit the ground hard with Bata three times, and the three princes, followed by Prince Enron of the Elvin Throne started to walk toward the majestic doors of the Refectory, which opened on their own, as they would, had Nestor been in the lead. Everyone of the Order of the Light had been watching Nestor, and gasped as no one, absolutely no one, had seen Nestor do a move or even move his lip to say the Invocation. Who had done the Call, they wondered? Only a single Mage had seen Harp's move and he dismissed it as only theatrics.

***

As the procession advanced in the Refectory, few noticed the change on the platform at the far end. Those that did were already too dazed by the previous events to correlate them with what was visible at the far end of the giant room.

Reaching the first level, reserved for the non-magical teachers, Harp, Paschal, and Sitar climbed up the steps and continued toward the second level. They, followed by Enron and Nestor, climbed on the second tribune, reserved for Magical teachers of the Apprentices and continued toward the third. As each layer was reached, another group of teacher detached itself from the procession, until finally, Nestor reached the level usually reserved for the Dean of the School of Magic.

There, things had radically changed. Whereas, before, the platform had been small and narrow, with barely enough space for Nestor's table and chair, and accessible only from the right side, it had been brought to a substantial size by magic, giving the impression the Dean's table was lost in the space offered.

Immediately above Nestor's seat was another level could be seen, with a huge chair shaped like a tree, more a throne than anything else, and a table of fitting proportion; but what shook everyone, teacher and student alike, was the presence of a humongous tribune with three thrones placed at a hemispheric table, presenting the head of three wolves looking with ruby eyes at the direct centre of the passageway the procession had used to reach the layered platforms. The tile, located halfway between the end of the tables occupied by the students and the first tribune of teachers, shone red for an unknown reason. Nonetheless, the presence of the marker, for thus everyone understood its purpose, sent shivers down their neck. The silence was deafening as everyone saw first, one child sit in the tree-like chair, no, throne; and then the three other children sit in the wolf-like thrones. By mutual consent, it had been decided that, even if Harp was by far the youngest, the central, therefore most prominent, place was his by right of Magic.

As each of the child sat, an ever more thunderous bell could be heard, until, finally, Harp sat down and the entire building shook from the resonance of the last bell. Each child then placed on the table one a walking stick and the two others a sword of man-sized proportion. Silence descended on the assembly.

***

"Great Grand Master Nestor, please introduced us," piped Harp in a resounding, if still childish voice that was heard clearly right to the now slowly closing doors of the Refectory.

Nestor stood up, and looked at the closing doors, waiting for them to finally immobilise themselves and the locks to set in. Taking a deep breath, he began his introduction.

"Ladies and Gentlemen Grand Masters and Masters of the Order of the Light; Grand Masters, Masters, Acolytes, and Companion Mages of the College of Magic; Apprentices and students of the College of Magic, today is a day to mark both with a white stone and a black one, because today I have a series of news to give to all. Please bear with us and listen carefully before asking any question or interrupting me."

Nestor, his mouth dry from stress, took a sip of water before resuming his speech.

"First, let me introduce my esteemed visitors. Please keep silent until I have finished," Nestor began, looking at everyone in the room, or so everyone thought. "Immediately above me is Prince Regent Enron of the Throne of Nature, a kingdom some of you know about since you have come to us from that Kingdom; the throne on which Prince Enron sits should speak for itself, since it replicates the throne found in the Great Hall of the Palace Under the Tree, an oak."

Taking a deep breath, Nestor resumed the introduction.

Above him, indicating a relationship of liege to vassal, are three important figures. On the left is Prince Sitar of the Wolf Throne; on the right is Prince Paschal of the Wolf Throne, and, according to them, given the place and circumstances, the most important figure of all, Prince Harp of the Wolf Throne, Mage Merlin of Atlantis, Founder of the Order of the Light!"

The stunned silence that followed the introduction was brief, very brief. Pandemonium broke loose as everyone, from Grand Master to lowly servant began to talk at the same time. After fifteen minutes of unabated noise, Harp's stomach grumbled and he decided to put an end to the situation. He stood up, took Bata in his hand and pointed it at the focal point where the wolf eyes of the Thrones seemed to be looking. Immediately the rubies began to glow ever more intensely and, after a minute, three coherent light beams shone on the tile. A minute later the stone seemed to melt under intense heat and form a pool of lava four square feet, encased by the adjoining tiles. As everyone gradually noticed the diminutive figure standing and pointing at the lava tile with that strange stick, silence once again descended on the assembly. Once order was restored, Harp spoke up, in a gentle, almost casual tone.

"Great Grand Master Nestor has been modest in the introduction of my brothers. May I continue to instruct you into who we are? To my left, my blood brother Prince Sitar of the Wolf Throne, Montue, God of War of Atlantis, Master of Arms and Commander of the Legions of Atlantis! To my right, my brother by adoption, Prince Paschal of the Wolf Throne, Imhophet, Great Grand Architect of Atlantis! And below me, our vassal, Prince Regent Enron of the Throne of Nature and Elves, Hator, Pilot, Grand Flyer of Atlantis!"

The noise this statement caused was a lot more hush-hush than when Nestor had made his announcement earlier. Everyone was mindful of the still liquid tile in their midst, even more so the teachers who had an impeccable view into the lava pit they figured was bottomless. Harp resumed talking as gently as before, everyone sure he was talking right beside where they sat.

"Please, the introductions are not finished; we have a lot to cover before we serve the food today. Be quiet!"

The tone, albeit gentle, was imperative and none dared defy it. Silence once again descended in the vast room, as Nestor stood again.

"Thank you, Harp, for you remarkable patience."

"It's only a façade, Nestor," replied Harp with a feral grin.

"Nonetheless, you have shown restraint. As Prince Harp was saying we have other things to consider. Second point, today. You already saw Prince Harp use what, for many, is a simple walking stick; May I call your attention to the wolf head, and the pattern? This is Bata, Mage Merlin's Magic Stick; Few can handle that wand, for such it is, and stay alive; Prince Harp, and before that, his dad, his Highness, King Harold, of the Wolf Throne, and, for a long time, very long time, the previous incarnation of Merlin, of which Harp is now the repository. None, and I repeat, none, of you may touch it; it killed my son's magic when he tried to take it for his own goals." The last words passed with difficulty through Nestor's throat, as he felt humiliated by his son's actions.

Harp gently materialised a glass of spiced wine, which Nestor took in a single gulp before beginning to cough and turn red in the face.

"Oh, sorry Nestor. I think I overdid on horseradish!"

Poor Nestor quickly took a drink of his water and resumed his second point.

"Just you wait, young man, you can't teach new faces to an old monkey!"

Harp's impertinent "I just did!" brought laughter from the college students and a few fugitive smiles in the otherwise sombre faces of the staff.

"Anyway, to get back on track, accompanying Prince Sitar is Excalibur! Yes, the magic sword is back amongst us for good or bad; and within reach of Prince Paschal is Mitsuko, the sword of Light, which we had not heard before because it was forged in a far-away country now reduced to rubble."

Nestor looked up at Harp, for further guidance on what to do from there. Harp stood up and signalled to Nestor that he could sit down.

"Now that everyone and everything has been introduced, I will deal with point three before feeding everyone. Nestor has asked us for help in eradicating traitors to the Cause of Light, and we will do so immediately! Let me warn you! We have had to clean up traitors in every level of society, from blue blood to serfs! In all instances, the result has been the same: death in one form or other; Nestor's son paid his debt by the death of Magic; others were either more lucky or less so, depending on each individual's viewpoint: they died physically by beheading, gutting, or quartering! Let me make this abundantly clear: we have no qualms at killing, gutting or otherwise dispose of traitors, be they nobles, mages, or grunts!"

Harp took a sip of water and turning to Sitar, called on to him.

"Prince Paschal will call the vow of truth, the swearing of fealty upon all members of this assembly!"

***

Paschal stood up and took Mitsuko out of its scabbard. Holding it straight up so everyone could see the imposing blade, he began his speech.

"This sword can tell when someone tells the truth or says something false it knows is false; but it has another capacity we have put to use repeatedly. It can detect, in a crowd of people, who has foresworn a vow, or who is swearing falsely. It has been the demise of quite a few blue-blooded jerks and ass-wipes!"

The language used by Paschal took many by surprise, and, surprisingly, added more weight to his statement.

"We cannot possibly spend the day taking vows from individual persons. We will organize each by task, and only one will be called to swear for his colleagues, who will do so at the same time. Is the procedure clear for everyone?"

Silence followed the question, until one of the youngest students stood up and, his voice amplified by magic from Harp asked the crucial question:

"I have an issue here. To whom should we swear allegiance?"

"A very pertinent question, young one. You will go far in life. You will swear allegiance to the Wolf Throne, to the Light, and to Magic itself. All of you have already sworn obedience to the College, and Nestor, as Dean of this College, will swear in its name to the Wolf Throne, to the Light, and to Magic, thus binding all twice. Now, be very careful: this is a blood vow! On this vow will reside your life! Vow falsely, or forfeit it, and you will die, not of our own hands but out of the hands of Magic itself."

"You say we die. How so?"

"Another good question. A vow to Magic will let Magic rip your magical core out of you. You will have no magical capacities whatsoever after that, but that will only be the beginning of your ordeal. No, you will not die, but you will wish you were! When we ripped Mage Marlin of his magic, and banned the evil that had taken him over, Meagan felt the recoil and spend days recovering; but Marlin himself returned to childhood, with no possibility of ever growing into an adult! Marlin felt excruciating pain, and only because his dad, Nestor, was present, did we diminish his pain to a bearable level. Had we not done so, he would have gone made from it and probably tried to kill himself the moment we released him. Does this clarify the outcome?"

"Would Magic numb the pain?"

"No, in fact, feeling betrayed, it would exacerbate it. Magic does not have feelings for feeble mortals, nor morals. It is neither good nor bad. It shows no restraint."

"Thank you."

Another student immediately stood up, and receiving acknowledgement from Paschal asked his question.

"What about those of us that have no magic?"

"The answer to this is simple, Miss. You all have magic, to differing degrees. Even inanimate matter has magic, it is an inherent part of the universe as a whole; simply, there are parts that have less, others more; Mages have simply mastered the art of calling upon their core to control the available energy of Magic around them," Harp replied instead of Paschal. "Whatever happens to you will depend not on your ability, nor the strength of your core, but on other factors upon which none of you have control. The oath will bind you, whatever your condition is; mages will no more be able to escape it than a non-magical being. You are part of the Universe, part of this planet, made of its components; by swearing, you are binding Gaia to you, binding the Universe to you. Wherever you are, you will be bounded. Any more question?"

As none were forthcoming, Paschal resumed control of the assembly.

"My pleasure. Let us get back to the vow. We will start with the College's support staff. Harp, have you done the lockdown?"

"Yes, Paschal. The moment we began moving toward the assembly room leading to the Refectory, everyone received an imperative order to get there. The impulse was so strong no one could evade it. I have installed a ward, which, short of blocking molecules of air, blocks everything else, including magic, from either entering or leaving. Once the Refectory doors closed, I installed another ward enclosing this entire room."

"Thank you, Harp." At this moment a roll call of every type of profession within the college materialised on the desk, right within reach of Paschal, which resumed his explanations.

"Within this scroll is a list of each profession and their recognized leader. I will call each in turn to represent those under their command. As each profession is called, stand up! Do not believe you can escape the vow in any way. It is Magic itself that wrote this scroll, not Nestor or any member of this College. If one of you cannot stand up for a reason or another, I will see his name and position appear beside the scroll's running list. First, janitors!"

***

The swearing-in went swiftly through the first few groups, with only an occasional comatose person getting his magic removed and expelled Manu militari from the college by immediate teleportation to Frisco, the capital of Americus. The apparition of dazed adults babbling like babies and suckling their thumb unnerved the populace, who wondered what psychiatric ward had left its doors opened.

The first major incident was with border guards. Their leader turned out to be an infiltrator from King Edward's minister of defence, a certain Shane, of dubious reputation. It became apparent after interrogation that about half of the city-state's border guards were under some form or other of control by parties external to the college; of the rest, some had obtained their position by blackmail, or by downright paying for them. When the entire cleanup was done, only one out of ten passed muster, the rest got dismissed after getting their brain picked for information and their magic removed. A total of six hundred and thirty border guards got dispatched in that sweep; of those, forty were found to be black mages and died in terrible suffering due to the loss of their magic. Those were kept in stasis for a while, before they were to be disposed of. On the other hand, Shane's handymen were dumped in his villa near the Royal Palace, properly gutted, and bowels, still smoking, tied around their neck. The savagery of Sitar as he dispatched the offending parties made quite a few observers sick in their stomach, since he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Harp did not leave all the fun to Sitar; he personally tore to bits the black mages, only keeping their head intact so their brethren could identify them when he would send their body in cardboard boxes.

The next big deception came with the student body. A third of them had no intention of holding true to their vow and promptly deceased.

"I am sad to see how many of our youngsters have no integrity. Given how most of these students have been brought to us by so-called diviners, whose performance at recognizing a true mage can, at best, be compared to the probability of a pair of twelve-faced dice producing twelve pairs of six in a row, I am not at all surprised by the result. At least, I will not have to write to parents informing them of the demise of their child," said Nestor sombrely.

"Evilness can be found at all ages, in all levels of society, Nestor. Do not feel personally responsible for this situation. They made their own bed."

"Thank you, Harp. However, I wish there had been other ways to dispose of these miscreants."

"I wish too, but they had begun their formation to become mages; it was a double whammy for them; they broke their oath twice to Magic: their first oath as apprentices, and today," explained Harp.

The next batch to be put to the test was the group composed of the non-magical teachers. Some had already been earmarked for shoddy dealings, including traffic of influence to promote or otherwise include in the college staff incompetent members of their family or known infiltrators. The number of teachers that ended expelled for outright breach of contract or other misdemeanour was restricted to about twenty; a few refused to take the oath and asked for their contract to be terminated immediately, which was granted. They too were expelled to Frisco. Only one died, a black mage that had tried to hide his true nature by asking for termination. He got his wish: he was terminated.

The next group, composed of the teachers of magic, produced the most dramatic event so far that day. Three teachers tried to attack Harp at the same time, assuming they could beat Harp, thus proving he was not Merlin.

As they launched their attack on Harp, his instincts kicked in and he shielded not only himself but also his three brothers and Nestor. The resounding crack of the magic spell colliding with his shield was deafening. Harp rose up from his seat, and, looking at the three offenders, decided to give a demonstration. He rose above his table to the cathedral-like ceiling of the Refectory, and faced the teaching body.

"How many of you are dark mages? I, Merlin, call upon your magic to fight me in a battle to the death!"

None stood up, which pissed Harp royally.

"Cowards! Black mages you are, because in the dark you act, whilst people have trust in you, and you conspire their demise in their backs! I call on Magic! Bring forth to me those who have foresworn or would foreswear their oath to the Light! Bring to me those who would serve their own interest more than the interest of the community! Bring to me the power-greedy, those who see in Magic a way to serve themselves rather than others!"

The number of people that got pulled out of the rank of teachers was surprising and revealed a lack of ethics of magic that left Nestor and the princes open-mouthed. Fully a third of the college staff got lifted to the ceiling to face Harp! But what most shocked Nestor was the number of leaders of the Order of the Light that got sucked up by Magic upon Harp's demand. Of the leadership, only two remained seated! And these two found their retinue substantially reduced, if not outright decimated! It seemed that the higher the climb, the less ethical a person was likely to be!

***

Once the hum of those below died down, Harp bellowed:

"Let those below move to the edges of the room. Stand, for there will be no chair to sit on, no table to lean on! Now! This goes for everyone, including the residual staff, and you my brothers. We will reconstruct after the fight!"

"Fine, Harp! Do you need Excalibur or Mitsuko?" offered Paschal, as he and Sitar stood up, immediately followed by Enron and Nestor. Some, mostly amongst the teachers, did not follow the instructions fast enough and found themselves falling on their bums as the chair they were comfortably sitting in vanished from under them.

A couple of complaints could be heard from the slow pokes, to which Harp answered, in a harsh voice, "What part of 'stand up' did you not understand?"

As the last of the students and teachers hurried to the walls limping along, a shimmering wall of energy rose from the floor to the ceiling, effectively encasing the spectators in a protective cocoon. The cocoon also extended to the entire floor, the walls, and the ceiling, thus effectively protecting the building from stray magic bolts.

Harp looked with contempt at his opponents, numbering near the hundred, and told them:

"Prepare for battle; I will bring you to the floor; any and all moves are allowed; any and all spells and curses are allowed. To help you, I will stand in your midst. Watch my shield. When it disappears the battle begins!" With that, Harp gently dropped them to the floor from the two hundred foot ceiling.

"Disperse yourselves. If you stay grouped, I will have a field day! Not that I will not have one anyway."

The mages saw the sagacity of this recommendation and moved to occupy the most area below Harp, leaving a circle in the middle of the room free for him to occupy. Harp gladly obliged and descended slowly in the centre of the free space.

"Are you fools ready?"

Silence responded.

"Ah, I see, a tiger ate your tongue." Bellowing, Harp repeated his question, which made the Mages jump in shock.

Finally, a meagre response began to be heard from different quarters.

"Cry-babies! You really are pathetic! Let's get this show on the road!"

With that, the battle began as Harp dropped his shield.

***

The first attack came from behind, as Harp had expected. As the bolt of deadly magic erupted, he did a back flip, letting the curse pass under him to hit another mage, who, taken by surprise, crumpled on the floor, bursting into sickly green flames.

Harp exploded in laughter! "See, I have you fooled! Now you have to beware of each other! Any curse can hit one of your own allies! Friendly fire is the most pleasant type when you are outnumbered!"

Harp's enemies took the lesson seriously, very seriously. By some sort of tacit accord they divided themselves in two more compact groups and readied themselves for a concerted assault. They fired simultaneously, only to see Harp rocket to the roof as their curses rebounded on the protective wards, which turned a deep black for an instant. Curses rebounded around until they found a target, as Harp danced in the air, moving out of the way of stray curses that had managed to rebound on the ground. Some Mages got hit by more than one curse, their body getting tossed, burned to crisp, dismembered, and otherwise transformed into cold cuts. By the end of round two, only a dozen mages stood in the midst of the carnage! Harp, meanwhile was at the zenith of the cupola, laughing hysterically.

"Well, what a cleanup this room will need! I never thought mages could be such hogs!"

The mages looked around, appalled by the devastation in their numbers. Finally, they regrouped and began to combine a powerful curse. Suddenly, a black form took shape on the floor and launched itself at Harp, which met it head on. For the first time since the battle had begun, Harp used offensive magic!

As Bata touched the beast's left flank, the skin burned and bust open, letting out the most outrageous smell of burning flesh and decomposing faecal matter. The beast hollered in pain and tried to turn fast enough to bite the offending insect that had dared inflict that atrocious pain, a pain it had never felt since it had left the egg and eaten its siblings in the fight for survival.

Harp, being much smaller, could outmanoeuvre the clumsy animal, and certainly outwit it. After taking a dive below the furious animal, Harp targeted the animal's tail, cutting four feet off the tip and depriving it of one of its offensive weapons, an enormous ball of armoured cartilage spiked with poisonous tips. The consequences for the now infuriated animal were multiple: it lost its ability to turn rapidly around in mid-air, since the mass acted as rudder; it lost a powerful weapon; it began losing a lot of blood, spraying it all around the fighting arena; and finally, it crashed to the ground, crushing half of the remaining Mages in the process, while Harp returned to his previous position near the ceiling.

The animal tried to take to the air repeatedly, trying to reach its foe, but each jump proved more difficult as it lost more and more of its vital fluids to the enormous wound. The beast slid on the floor, made slippery by the protective ward, the guts of the deceased mages of the previous battle, and its own blood. An unfortunate Mage got trapped between the protective ward and the sliding flank of the animal, getting converted into a bloody pancake under the horrified eyes of the spectators that could see the whole process from the other side of the transparent ward.

Another mage found himself at eye level with the furious animal. It turned its head quickly swallowed him live, before chewing on him in morbid satisfaction. Only one mage remained on the floor, while Harp hovered above, out of reach. The fool, rather than stay hidden behind a pile of slimy carcasses, tried to kill the animal with a killing curse. Unfortunately, he had not aimed well, and his curse rebounded on a wall, before hitting the animal squarely in the left eye. The beast used its last energy to find the source of the attack and deliberately let its massive body fall on the mage, crushing him on the floor in the process. The animal's breathing slowed, blood exited through its nose, eyes, and mouth, and a greenish froth appeared at the lips as the lungs filled with blood and regurgitated stomachal contents. Finally, a long expiration was heard, and the animal's thorax stopped moving, as urine and faeces vacated the body. Death had claimed it.

***

Harp banished all traces of the battle from the room before lowering the wards. No trace of what had occurred just minutes before subsisted, as tables, chairs, tribunes and thrones reappeared silently.

"Move to your respective places, ladies and gentlemen!" ordered Harp, as he took his own seat at the topmost table.

"We have other announcements to make, but these will have to wait for after breakfast, if you do not mind, Nestor?" suggested Harp.

"Certainly, after the expenditure of energy I have seen, I can easily understand your need for food! I just hope our larders are sufficient to feed your ravenous appetite!"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. We supply the sustenance." With that, the tables filled with a wide variety of plates, some of which had not been seen in thousands of years, while others reflected the diverse origins of the students and staff of the College. Silverware, china and crystals also appeared in front of each seat. "Dig in, we have a long day ahead of us!"

As the food was devoured, at first tentatively, but with increasing gusto, each guest found out within reach the food he or she appreciated the most. Nestor and the princes entertained a peaceful and convivial chat, to the surprise of those who could hear them over the din of the chewing mandibles coming from around them.

Nestor explained to the prince the organisation of students within the room according to year of admission.

"Why are they not by promotion?" asked Enron.

"We do not wish to humiliate those who progress more slowly, Prince. Furthermore, by staying with friends, it promotes mutual help and progress."

"In the end, the lone student who has been here twenty years and has not graduated is humiliated as effectively as if he had been labelled."

"Enron, whatever method is taken, at some point, a failing student will stick out like the nose in the face," Sitar replied.

"I figure there are cliques, like in any organization, even within the teaching staff," added Harp. "After all, people tend to regroup by community of interest, by need. Some are born leaders, while others will always follow; it is in the nature of herds!"

Paschal looked at Harp thoughtfully, and, weighting his words carefully, began: "Leadership is not the same as ruling; leadership is showing by example, by doing rather than setting rules. Rulers govern by force, by using the sheep in predatory clothing. A ruler gives orders and expects the others to follow them while he sits; a leader does what must, in the forefront, and hopes the others will do what he does. If we form rulers here, we have a recipe for failure, because Magic and rulers do not mix; rulers believe they have the solution to everything; leaders know their limits and are willing to listen to others, and to try things by themselves. Rulers never commit mistakes; it is their servants that commit them, even if they followed the rules by the letter; a leader admits misjudgements and will do his best to correct them, and learn from his errors."

"All this is true, Paschal, but I worry about the loners, the disillusioned, the leftovers. They can become erratic, evil, sore, and, ultimately, constitute a danger for society. If a non-magical being is already a pain in the butt, a magical sore thumb can be a living catastrophe, a volcano awaiting patiently for the weak point before bursting forth with devastating consequences."

"What would you have the College do about those loners, Harp?" Nestor asked, curious as to the underlying analysis, but even more by any potential solution the prince might offer.

"First, identify who they are; second, study why they are loners; third, remedy to the cause."

"Identifying should not be too difficult; but the why may not be of our competence."

"Nestor, you are the leader of this College. The College is a microcosm of Society at large, with all its good and bad sides condensed within. Maybe it is time you had staff dedicated to Student Affairs, such as sociologists dedicated to studying the interaction between students in order to find out what causes some students to become isolated, or the underpinnings of the formation of cliques, the process whereby someone becomes accepted or rejected within these cliques. You would also need psychologists, whose role is to understand what drives individual behaviour. Why are some aggressive while others are peaceful? Why are some leaders and others followers? Why are some competitive and others cooperative? You might even need to diagnose and find cures for mental illnesses, Nestor. The Ancients called them psychiatrists. Just make sure they are not more nuts than the people they pretend to cure! One thing must not be forgotten: originality and standing out is no justification for discrimination. We must praise diversity and inventiveness; conformity, albeit it gives a sense of security, is also a recipe for mediocrity and stagnation. Colleges should be the hub of progress and innovation, not the centre for stagnation and conformism. Also, the best results do not always come from recipes found in dusty tomes! Lead into new domains, not only in magic. Encourage exchanges between layers of society rather than reinforce its stratification. What I see below is a crystallisation, within a room, of the very structure of our society, and it saddens me; many of the most innovative ideas produced by the Ancients were the result of people coming from different layers of society and rubbing against each other. The need of some led to the creation of new tools, new concepts, and new ways of thinking. Yet, what brought down the Ancients was stratification; the rich were growing indecently richer, whilst the poor grew poorer; the powerful grew more powerful and used it to advance their agenda rather than serve the people; revolts and civil strife was widespread because richness was not evenly spread and those without felt no hope of ever gaining any. We dumped everything during the Cataclysm, and have fallen back on a feudal stratification that led to the Dark Ages. Not only have we fallen back technologically and socially, we are on the verge of repeating the same mistakes the Ancients did by rebuilding on the same grounds they did. The Cataclysm disposed of the Ancients; are we willing to follow the same road?"

Nestor listened at the indictment of College life as usual pronounced by a passionate six-year old, as teachers and students alike stopped eating to hear the damning words. The discussions between students and teachers took a totally different road after Harp resumed eating quietly. No longer was it focussed on the battle and what each had seen or felt. Debate as to how to reform the College began in earnest, and proposals flew from one table to the other. Harp looked down, smiling. He had attained at least part of his objective: the rigid stratification was breaking up, and people of different social venues were finally talking to each other and, more importantly, listening to each other.

***

As breakfast drew to an end, Nestor stood up and called everyone to attention. Silence slowly descended on the expectant assembly.

"As Prince Harp has told you, other announcements are forthcoming. I had called on the Princes to help me clear the College of traitors to the Cause of the Light; it far outstripped my wildest expectations!"

An uneasy rumble of laughter could be heard from the survivors of Harp's prowesses. As it calmed down, Nestor resumed.

"The next announcement will probably take most of you by surprise; I was going to say shock you out of your pants, but given what we have seen so far this morning, most of you probably need to buy new ones. I also invited the princes because something is happening that I was unable to understand; I was worried, no, I am worried about the safety of this College and its members. After verification, the Princes concurred and explained what they had detected. In accordance to my suggestion, the college will be moved out of its current location. I have yet to discuss the ins and outs of the move with the Princes. However we feel it is critical we move within the shortest amount of time. Are there any comments or questions?"

A student stood up and, recognised by Harp, asked:

"What can you tell us about the reason?"

Harp stood up and answered for Nestor.

"Given all of you are now bound, I will answer that question openly. As my brothers and I studied the area, it became apparent that magic got twisted and bottled up. What few know is that magic is a force field and that unhindered flow guarantees its stability. By creating knots in the field, those that did this caused pressure points; in turn, these pressure points have begun eating at the Earth's crystalline structure by creating stresses. It would not have been too bad had it not been for two damning factors; first, the area on which the College, and indeed, the Dungeons of the Dark Mages is built, is fractured; these fractures result from the bending of the Earth's crust and continental shelf on which we sit, by virtue of the movement of the oceanic plate found near here. But more damning is the presence of a high concentration of Magic collecting mineral, orichalque, just below this mountain. It is pushing upward in an effort to escape; but the additional stress caused by the twisting of the flow lines is adding to the impetus."

Another student stood up, wanting further explanations.

"I do not understand; are you telling us the dark mages have their Keep nearby?"

"Exactly. You share the same mountain, and, indeed, the same pool of magic."

Yet another student stood up, and wondered about the fractures.

"The Ancients called it plate tectonics. We float on a sea of liquid rock; the sea bottom as well as the continental shelves move all the time and collide. How do you think mountains are born? What drives volcanoes, and earthquakes? It is all plate tectonics. This College is built on an ancient volcano, whose magmatic chamber collected orichalque as it cooled down in times long past. Now we have a gang of fools that are playing with fire; the chamber is deep, too close to the underlying mantle for comfort, and yet also too close to the surface to safely be held back in check by this rock cap."

"What are you saying?" asked a teacher, shuddering at what he thought the prince meant.

"Simple, sir; an irruption is imminent! And it will rival in power the worse mankind has seen, if we do not find a way to displace the magical core of this mountain. Even then, the eruption will occur, and nothing, absolutely nothing can stop it. All we can do is move the College out of the way."

"What will happen to the Magic stored below us?"

"We will move it into a containment chamber below the new location of the College. I have been giving thought to the issue, and we have already moved a lot of stuff within the area I will target for the College's new temporary setting."

"Where is that?" asked Nestor.

"Lava Flows. The rocks' nature matches the one observed here, minus a lot less fracturing, probably because it is old, and is a continental shield. I suspect the sudden suppression of the core will trigger some sparks, as it will no longer be there to sustain the mountain or counter the magmatic pressure from below. As to how far the damage will extend, what do I care about that. The Black Mages' Keep will probably fall back down on us in ashes no bigger than sand. But this is only minor compared to the damage the sudden release of the field will cause. For all intents and purposes, the western coast of this continent will shift by a vast amount, creating a cascade of earthquakes the likes of which no one has seen in the history of mankind. Nothing will survive. And it is not my doing, but the doing of these idiots! It will be like cutting a steel wire under tension. It will snap violently, destroying everything it encounters."

"Was it long in building up?" asked a shocked teacher.

"The core? Yes."

"No, I meant the nodal stresses you referred to earlier."

"Let's see. When I defeated Meagan, these nodes were not present. That is somewhere around a month or two ago, so the build-up is quite rapid. However brash Meagan was, she would never have condoned this because she knew of the dire consequences. Only a power-hungry ignorant fool would have done this. I use power nodes to blow up dams, but never, ever, to this extent or so close or directly adjacent to a magic core! It is suicidal!"

Another student stood up, distressed.

"Prince Harp, I am an orphan, and I value the College as a family. However, I see no contingency plans to evacuate the population of Americus! I can not condone the fact that all these innocents will be left to die!"

"This preoccupation is all in your honour, young man. What would you have us do? We have a few days at most to evacuate. And where to? We may be able to move the College to Lava Flows, because its mages can learn from us the art of creating food. But for normal, non-magical beings, the lava from which the place derives its name is barren."

"Could we at least give them a warning of some sort?"

"Maybe, but human nature, faced with that kind of news, has some set behavioural patterns: most will ignore it, thinking that it will go away by itself; another group will panic and act erratically; another group will see in the chaos an occasion to get richer, even if is for a single hour. Few. Very few will try to get out of the way, move or otherwise take concrete and potentially life-saving action. And the powers in place will do all they can to undermine the information, minimising its validity. For them, any disruption is an unacceptable weakening of their power, a show of its limits."

"Could we at least offer to the children an escape, please? Take them with us? At least the orphans! They have lost everything, do they not deserve a chance?"

Harp, Sitar and Paschal looked at each other, and as a few tears dropped, they hug their heads down, telepathically exchanging. Finally, Harp stood up, eyes reddened by tears.

"My brothers and I have decided to honour your request. While Paschal studies the structure of the College campus, Sitar, Enron, and I will bring to the Campus as many children as we can collect, from orphanages, schools and kindergartens. We will also distribute pamphlets telling of the impending disaster; in the hope parents will bring their progeny to these collecting centres so we can maximize the pickup. This, young man, assumes a number of things: that the government in place does not try to interfere; that parents attach more importance to their children than to themselves; that the same parents believe the warning. Do you understand me? Do not expect everyone to be saved. It is an impossible feat given the timetable."

"Yes sir."

"Nestor, where are the population centres?"

"Most viable localities are along the sea shore. Inland, it is way too radioactive. Even along the seashore, there are vast areas we have to go around, mostly where the Ancients had their cities and military bases. The inland valleys got hit severely because they constituted production centres for high technology equipment and 'think tanks'. If some legendary names were recovered, like Frisco , or Lozenge , it does not mean these places survived, or are in the same place. Americus is made up of a string of dilapidated urban centres along the coast. The only link is an Ancient road, itself severely cut to pieces by Glows and Forbidden Forests. Repeated earthquakes have destroyed what was left on the infrastructure, and the mismanagement of the limited resources has not helped the reconstruction of the area; feudalism has led to incessant bickering and wars. It is only recently, under the iron grip of Edward XXIV that the unity has been reached, but at an excruciating price. The blood bath has been horrible."

"This is sobering, Nestor. How many people are we talking about?"

"At most, a million people, spread from Cali to Col , although there are indications that the population of Col, Oreg , and Washton have been moving ever further south, pushed out of their turf by the encroaching ice caps, that reduces the land available to an ever narrower strip, between the advancing ice and the sea. The weather has also cut growing season to a point where agriculture is no longer sustainable. The sea level has dropped, but not by a significant amount, and the uncovered land in barren, improper for agriculture due to its salt contents. The nature of the land in Baja , extremely hilly and dry, has not been able to support more than a meagre influx of immigrants, and, even if it is a protectorate of Americus, it is regularly subject to rebellions and revolts, which Edward has not been able to repress effectively. The rebels raid his troops and then run to hide in the mountains. The moment he sends troops in the mountains, none come back to tell their tale. To complicate matters, the orcs are hard at work at harassing both the rebels and the military outposts, feeding on everything they capture."

"What about crocodile priests?" enquired Sitar.

"Oh, they have a nice life. They are found along the entire coast, and seem to find a rich feeding ground in the sea. We have seen colonies on protected islands where the orcs cannot reach them. Orcs are the worst mariners I have ever seen. They manage to capsize a flat boat on an oily sea. It seems Edward protects the crocodiles. Rumour has it he feeds his political opponents to them. It is not the same with the mariners of Edward's fleet. These are fine men, and have managed to chart their way around the globe. There is a rumour of an ambassador from a place two oceans over."

A student stood up and interrupted Nestor.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Great Grand Master, but I may have information for you on that last topic."

Harp looked at the young man, and nodded.

"My dad is a mariner in Edward's fleet. He has travelled around the globe, he told me before the diviner picked me up and brought here. He says the crocodile priests are rarely seen in the open ocean, but hug the shores. It seems the issue is a giant predatory shark that assaults anything on the sea, even ships. It is the main reason long-faring ships have steel-plated hulls; it is not uncommon to find, embedded in the hulls during careening, long shark teeth. They are too big to venture near the shores and easily find themselves left high and dry by retreating tides. They then die by asphyxiation, and get devoured by the crocodiles, who seem to congregate near the retreating sea the moment one of these sharks is cornered. Oh, the shark sometimes isn't totally dead and takes a few out, but overall, the beast is lost."

The student took a breath and resumed his explanations. "According to dad, the continent across the ocean is called Eurasia and is much vaster than this one; although he has only travelled its shores and a few inland rivers that were passable, it has a much greater population than this one. Most of its shores are Glows, but even then, it still offers a number of sheltered areas that were spared by the Cataclysm."

"Do you think you could guide us to your dad?" asked Paschal.

"Yes, but why?"

"He may have a portulan⁴⁴ ("Portulan: A portulan is a marine map that indicates the different ports, sheltered bays and other important navigational aids."), and it might be useful later."

"Oh, I understand. Maybe he does, after all he was working to get his certification as navigator when I was kidnapped by these child molesters that try to pass as diviners."

"Get ready. If you need clothes or anything, ask us. I will simply create them on the spot. Enron, Sitar, with me. Paschal, Nestor, I want a complete map and layout of the college grounds when I come back. Paschal, when you are done, establish a list of priorities. We may be even shorter on time than we think so we will take out the irreplaceable, and focus on evacuating as many children as we can in the imparted time. Staff members! Ready your different domains for evacuation! All you need is to make sure nothing is left which you would miss later. That includes collecting your animals into their respective barns, plants must be earmarked by priority, and your properties tidied and locked down ready for translocation. Remember, the more we wait to remove the orichalque, the higher the stress on the magical field, the more violent the release. We must hurry."

"And when I think dad says I'm bossy!" said Enron, mezza voce.

"I heard that, Enron!" exclaimed Harp. "Pay back is a bitch!"

"Sire! What about those of us that have family outside of campus?"

"See that with Paschal; he will bring them in across the ward. Get moving!"

With that, the great doors of the Refectory unlocked and opened. The students left first for their respective dorms, too stunned by the events of the day to talk much. Soon followed the different support staffs, then the teachers and the leftover members of the Order of the Light leadership. Last to leave were Nestor and the princes.

***

As the group left the Refectory, the last student that had talked during the meeting met them.

"I am ready to guide you, Prince Harp," he said, doing a curtsy.

"You were quick! I like that. No formalities between us, we do not have time for that."

"I ran out to my dorm and quickly packed my stuff. I have few objects of value except my wand. I will leave everything behind, and organize them when we come back."

"Good." Harp turned to the other princes and signalled his readiness to begin the jumps. He took Bata out, while Enron set an arrow in his bow and Sitar took Excalibur out of its scabbard. The young mage shakily took his wand with his right hand, to a disapproving glare from Harp.

«The poor boy holds his wand like it was going to bite him. It is not a snake!» he told the others. «Any tighter, and it will be inside his hand!»

"Ok, young man, where to?"

"Well, we lived near the sea, so, first, let's get close to it; we are inland, but the shimmer you see on the far horizon is the sea. We may be about five miles from it."

"OK. Grab to me. We will teleport point to point, so it may take more than one jump. Sitar, you go first. I will follow with our guide. Enron, you come last and will ensure our rear."

It took six jumps to reach a clear view of the sea, which revealed a rocky beach and crocodiles sunning themselves on low islands.

"Where to now?"

"I wish I knew, this shoreline is unknown to me. If I had a better view!"

"Better view coming up. Hang to me tight, we're going up!"

"Up?" asked the mage in training, holding to Harp with a death grip.

"Up!" With that, Harp brought them a mile high and quickly stabilized himself.

"Is there any feature you recognize?"

"There is that big bay that glows. We are way north of there. Dad told us this was where the first Frisco had stood, before the Cataclysm."

"OK, north we go."

The group jumped around the different obstacles weary of the royal troops, the crocodiles, the occasional concentration of orcs, and most, of the Glows, whose pernicious presence could not be discerned easily.