A Practical Guide to Sorcery

Sebastien

Month 9, Day 3, Friday 1:40 p.m.

Sebastien and her friends arrived at their reserved seats in the temporary amphitheatre, a grand structure of white stone drawn up from the ground for the huge crowds that came to watch the Defense exhibitions. The air buzzed with excitement as spectators filed in, their chatter filling the space. Massive mirrors, sympathetically connected to those within the test area, dominated the center of the amphitheatre. For the moment, they merely reflected the eager faces of the crowd.

Alec and Rhett peppered Damien and Sebastien with questions about Professor Lacer’s upcoming exhibition. “Come on, you must know something!” Alec pleaded. “He’s your mentor!”

“I’m as much in the dark as you are,” Sebastien admitted. Trying to be patient when everyone around her was so excited made it even harder.

Damien kept adjusting his collar and sleeve cuffs, fidgeting restlessly. “He hasn’t dropped even the slightest hint. I think he enjoys the suspense.”

“Maybe he’s come up with something that will gain him Archmage status, and he wants to sway public opinion before going before the council of Grandmasters,” Ana said.

“What did Archmage Zard do to receive the title?” Sebastien asked. “I know you have to contribute something significant to a particular field of magic to be considered a Grandmaster, but what about after that?”

Before anyone could answer, Damien suddenly perked up. He stood, waving enthusiastically at a figure making its way through the crowd. “Titus! Over here!”

Titus Westbay, Damien’s older brother, approached their group with measured steps. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, and somehow, it made him look younger—more like Damien. His eyes flickered briefly to Sebastien, and his expression grew somehow uncomfortable before smoothing out again, though Sebastien couldn’t guess why. Maybe he still didn’t trust her around Damien. Titus greeted everyone politely and acquiesced to sitting with them.

Professor Lacer walked through one of the amphitheatre’s side doors, making his usual dramatic entrance with his long jacket flapping behind him. He ignored the scattered cheering that broke out and strode toward Sebastien’s group. “I trust you are all prepared for an...educational experience.”

Titus grinned. “Is that what they call showing off, nowadays?”

Professor Lacer sniffed condescendingly. “Perhaps not when you do it.”

The crowd’s chatter died away, replaced by a wave of silence that spread from the entrance. People began to turn, many bowing deeply as a procession made its way into the arena. A man with long, intricately braided grey hair and wearing a suit that looked like it cost an entire year of University tuition entered. He was wearing a thirteen-pointed crown.

Sebastien’s breath caught in her throat. That man was the High Crown.

A younger man walked at his side, and a retinue of Pendragon Corps guards flanked and followed behind them, their eyes sweeping for danger. The High Crown’s presence seemed to electrify the air. Perhaps to the others, it was with awe, but Sebastien could only tense for danger. “Why is he here?” she asked in a dry, brittle voice.

“Because I invited him,” Professor Lacer said. He was smiling, but the expression did not reach his eyes. With a casual wave of his hand, he began to manipulate the stone of the white cliffs. A section of the amphitheatre stands—the best seats, only a little behind and to the left of Sebastien’s group—rose and assumed the shape of an ostentatious throne. Then, they transformed into pure crystal, catching the light of the sun so that it almost seemed to glow. It was close enough that they would be able to hear the High Crown speak.

The High Crown smiled and nodded benevolently to Professor Lacer, and after a pause for him and the young man at his side—a whisper from Ana confirming him to be the High Crown’s heir—to wave at the crowd and accept some cheers, the older man took the throne.

Sebastien subtly shifted her position, angling herself so that she could keep them in her peripheral vision. She didn’t feel comfortable turning her back on them.

On the stage, a woman with a booming voice spoke. “Welcome to the most anticipated exhibition from the University of Lenore this year! Tickets have been sold out, and you may need to squeeze in a little with your neighbors. Don’t be shy, people, we’re all here for the same reason. Everyone needs to be seated securely before the exhibition can begin.

“Thaddeus Lacer is the youngest Master of free-casting in a century, and also a Grandmaster of sorcery. He fought with honor and brought glory to our nation during the Haze War, and was widely recognized as a war hero after previously confidential records were released to the public. He is not only a champion duelist, but also the patent holder of several spells. This man fought and killed a dragon!” she roared, pointing at Professor Lacer, who was still standing beside Sebastien’s group.

The crowd cheered and stomped until the stone shook.

Sebastien noted that the announcer didn’t mention that Professor Lacer was a member of the Red Guard, even though it was widely speculated and also true. Technically, it was supposed to be a secret.

“Grandmaster Thaddeus Lacer is immensely powerful,” the woman said, calming somewhat. “That is why I must sincerely caution you. Powerful magic can be uncomfortable to experience, both physically and mentally. Those who are pregnant, ill, or easily disturbed in body or mind should avoiding this particular exhibition. You still have five minutes to leave for your own safety. There will be no rescue during the course of the exhibition, no chance to change your mind and leave.”

Beside Sebastien, Damien shifted uncomfortably and pressed his palms flat to the leg of his pants. He noticed her attention and gave a small, awkward smile. “It’s fine. It’s just…a lot of these people probably don’t understand what it will really be like. I hope the organizers have some way to manage anyone who panics.”

As the woman returned to calling out more of Professor Lacer’s various feats, Titus elbowed his younger brother teasingly. “These warnings are only making me more eager,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us, Thaddeus.”

“My magic will tell the audience more about me than that woman ever could,” Professor Lacer said. With that, he moved to a corner of the stage and took a seat, and the announcer urged everyone to calm down and remain quiet.

People with boxes strapped to their bodies rushed through the audience, handing out handfuls of darkened glasses. Sebastien hurried to put hers on.

Professor Lacer closed his eyes, his body relaxing into a meditative pose. The crowd watched in hushed anticipation as the minutes ticked by. Whatever this spell was, it must be complex and powerful to need such concentration. Likely, he was carefully constructing the spell in his mind’s eye, clarifying his intent and ensuring the forcefulness and soundness of his Will.

The tension in the amphitheater grew palpable as Professor Lacer remained motionless. Some audience members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while others leaned forward, their gazes fixed on the still figure of the professor.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Professor Lacer’s eyes snapped open. He rose to his feet with fluid grace and strode to the center of the stage. For a moment, his gaze locked with that of the High Crown.

The silence that fell over the crowd was absolute. Even the rustling of clothes and the whisper of breath seemed to have been stolen away. Sebastien’s heart was sincerely pounding in anticipation.

In one smooth motion, Professor Lacer raised both arms towards the sky. In his right hand, he held an enormous, bright blue beast core that seemed to pulse with barely contained power. His left hand grasped his Conduit. Both were secured to his palms by wire bindings so that he could not accidentally drop them.

An invisible pressure seemed to build against her skin. It grew steadily, pressing against her entire body, until she felt as if she were being pinned to her seat by some unseen force.

The silence deepened. Even the sounds that she had not realized still filled the air dampened. The sounds of the rest of the exhibitions, the wind, the city beneath and even the breath in her own lungs fell away. It was a quiet so profound that she felt as if the world itself had frozen around her. It reminded her uncomfortably of the sensory deprivation spell the Pendragon Corps had put her under. If not for her ability to breathe, and blink, and her subtle grasp on her own shadow, she might have panicked.

Then, something came to fill the void that had been left behind. It was two-fold. A deep, resonant thump that she felt more in her bones than heard with her ears on one end, contrasted by a single high-pitched note, just on the edge of her hearing range. She had to concentrate to make sure she wasn’t imagining it, her mind creating something to escape the discomfort. The combination of the two sounds created a disorienting effect, making her feel slightly off balance even as she sat perfectly still.

Then, almost imperceptibly at first, the world around them began to darken.

The air thickened, making it difficult to breathe, and the light continued to dim. Fighting against the ephemeral restraints, she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, subtly using her shadow-familiar to shade her pupils beneath her palm. The darkened glasses would probably help, but she felt more comfortably relying on her own power when her eyesight was at stake.

The sun was experiencing an eclipse, but not in any way Sebastien had ever seen before. Instead of the moon slowly sliding across its face from one side to the other, darkness was growing from a single point at the center of the sun’s disk. The blackness spread outward like a pupil in the center of a glowing iris, consuming the sun’s radiance with an eerie, unnatural progression.

Sebastien shuddered at the sudden feeling of being watched. As the darkness expanded, the pressure and sound grew more intense. The deep, resonant thump that had been vibrating through her bones increased in volume and frequency, while the high-pitched note at the edge of her hearing became more piercing. Sebastien’s chest felt tight, as if an invisible hand were squeezing her lungs.

She watched in awe as the blackness finally engulfed the entire sun, plunging the amphitheater into an otherworldly twilight. The crowd’s murmurs of unease were barely audible over the oppressive soundscape of Professor Lacer’s spell.

‘Is he using the sunlight as an additional source of power for his spell, or does the blackness serve some other purpose?’ she wondered. She had no time to ponder these questions further, as a sudden change swept through the arena.

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There was a distinct ‘pop,’ like the sound of a soap bubble bursting, but magnified a thousandfold. In its wake, a wave of energy washed over Sebastien. The fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up, as if a static charge had passed through her body. Within moments, the sensation intensified. The longer hairs on her head rose, defying gravity. Her clothes, too, started to float and billow as if she were suspended in water.

Her stomach flooded with icy cold and the muscles lining her spine twitched and fizzed with phantom impulses. She had lost sensation from the mid-thigh down, but had a disturbing feeling that she could not only feel the organs within her chest and abdomen, but feel the brain within her skull, quivering within its protective layer of cerebrospinal fluid.

Sebastien squeezed shut her eyes and clenched the edge of the stone seat beneath her, trying to force her racing heart and the instinctive panic that unsettled her thoughts to calm. She didn’t want to miss even a second of this, no matter how her body cried out in primordial fear that something was very, very wrong.

She opened her eyes and looked at Professor Lacer, and then to the artificial eclipse above once more.

Without warning, something else washed over her. This was different, more profound. It felt as if reality itself was shifting around her. Sebastien blinked, disoriented, and found herself in an almost-familiar, yet utterly alien landscape.

She was hanging in a realm of pure, intense light. The air shimmered with energy, and though she could not control her field of view—and in fact seemed to have no body at all—she could see three suns hanging in the sky, their combined brilliance nearly blinding. In the far distance stood a forest of trees whose leaves appeared to absorb light, creating dark silhouettes against the luminous backdrop.

With a jolt of realization, Sebastien understood where she was. This was the Plane of Radiance. If those trees were transported to the mundane realm, they would likely appear to be glowing, and soon after would starve to death from the lack of sufficient light. Her eyes watered slightly, but didn’t burn the way they would have if she were truly there. No, this was some kind of illusion.

As the strange vision of the Plane of Radiance enveloped her senses, Sebastien found that with intense focus, she could glimpse the amphitheater around her, but her body remained frustratingly immobile. The spell’s effects were overwhelming, controlling her perceptions and leaving her feeling as though she were flying through an otherworldly landscape.

Vibrant, reflective gases drifted by in mesmerizing clouds, their colors shifting and swirling in patterns that defied description. In the distance, enormous winged creatures soared majestically. Below, lakes of quicksilver and hills of fiery diamond passed.

Like the rest of the audience, Sebastien was initially captivated by the extraordinary spectacle. However, her attention was suddenly drawn to movement on the stage. Professor Lacer walked toward, and then past her, with an uncharacteristic stiffness. Sebastien strained to follow his progress, her head barely able to shift a few centimeters against the oppressive magical pressure.

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Professor Lacer approached the High Crown’s crystalline throne. The grey-haired man’s body language betrayed agitation as he addressed the professor. “What is the meaning of this, Grandmaster Lacer?” he demanded, his voice tight with tension.

Professor Lacer’s response was casual, almost mocking. “Leandro,” he said, using the High Crown’s first name with deliberate familiarity, “I invited you here because I wanted an opportunity to speak to you in a way that even your dull, arrogant mind could comprehend.”

The High Crown’s posture stiffened. “Is this some sort of threat, Lacer? You’re overstepping your bounds.”

Professor Lacer laughed, the sound devoid of humor. “A threat? Oh, Leandro. You fail to grasp the situation entirely.”

“My guards will kill you if you even make a move to harm me, famous hero or not.”

Lacer gestured broadly, encompassing the immobilized crowd and the helpless guards. “Look around you. Your protectors are useless. They have no idea you are in danger.”

Sebastien realized it was true. One part of her senses was still encompassed by the Plane of Radiance, but other than her, Professor Lacer, and the High Crown himself, no one else seemed to be aware of what was going on in the real world at all. Even the High Crown’s heir, sitting on the stands to his left, was staring wide-eyed at nothing, still and oblivious.

The High Crown’s voice took on a calculating edge. “I see. You’re working for one of my rivals, aren’t you? Name your price, Lacer. Whatever they’re offering, I can double it.”

“You still don’t understand,” Professor Lacer said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “I’m not interested in your power at all. I don’t care about these petty power struggles, your idiotic management, or your insecurity.” He leaned in closer, his words precise and cutting. “What upsets me, Leandro, is your utter failure to appreciate my value or my nature. You understand me so little that you actually dared to go after my apprentice.”

Professor Lacer rotated the wire mesh fixtures on his hands, moving the beast core and Conduit to the backs of his hands rather than his palms. Thus free to act without dropping his spell, he reached out, grasping Leandro’s face with frightening strength. The tendons in his arms stood out as he squeezed the High Crown’s jaw muscles, forcing the man’s mouth open.

Sebastien did her best to keep from reacting physically, watching out of the corner of her eye as she screamed internally. ‘What is happening!?’

“Let me make this perfectly clear,” Lacer said, his tone hard as stone and filled with loathing. “I would not have allowed such a thing, even if you were to get down on your knees and grovel before me.”

With a swift motion, Professor Lacer reached into his pocket, withdrawing something she couldn’t quite see. With deliberate slowness, he shoved the object into the High Crown’s gaping mouth.

Whatever magical pressure was keeping the audience in their seats still worked on the man, and though he twitched and strained until the tendons in his neck stood out and the blood vessels in his eyes burst from the pressure, he could not resist. He was hyperventilating at first, and then began to choke.

As the High Crown’s face grew puce and swollen with lack of air, like a bag of blood on the verge of bursting, he suddenly swallowed in a huge, tearing gulp.

‘Or,’ Sebastien realized with a quivering chill, ‘whatever that was crawled down his throat.’

Professor Lacer released the High Crown. His grip left visible marks on the man’s jaw.

The High Crown gasped for air, his eyes wide with panic and confusion.

Lacer’s voice was eerily calm as he explained, “You have just swallowed a curse, Leandro. It is based on a magical beast from the East, the gu. Should you ever act against me or my apprentice again, it will activate. And when it does, hundreds of thousands of extremely poisonous bugs will be released into your body. They will breed and fight inside you, their poison artificially prolonging your life far beyond what any human body should endure. You will experience every moment as they eat each other, liquify your insides, and finally, the winning gu will grow to the size of my fist.”

The High Crown’s face had drained of color and was now an ashen, corpse-like grey as he stared up at Sebastien’s mentor.

Professor Lacer continued. “The gu will liquify your insides and drink until your corpse shrivels, then tear its way out of your skin, ready to repeat this process from scratch.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a glowing potion. “This will heal your throat. Drink.”

The High Crown shook his head frantically, his wide eyes darting around wildly for help that wouldn’t come. He opened his mouth and strained to scream, but all that came out was a tattered, hoarse rasp.

Professor Lacer forced the healing potion down his throat, too.

The other man’s color improved, and now able to scream, he did so loudly, shrilly, shouting for help and spouting off codes that were meant to alert his guards to danger.

Nothing happened, and no one responded.

“Feel free to seek out curse breakers,” Thaddeus added, almost as an afterthought. “They will find nothing.”

“I’ll go to the Red Guard. They’ll—”

“By all means, do so,” Thaddeus interrupted, his tone growing darker once more as he smiled savagely. “They have already punished me all they are willing to, and I have done much worse than this.”

He leaned in closer to the High Crown and poked him in the belly. “And remember, the gu is already within you. Do you think you have time to remove it before the curse recognizes your intentions?”

As Professor Lacer turned and walked stiffly back down to the stage, Sebastien struggled to keep her breathing even. Her forehead, palms, and back were beaded with cold sweat. When he looked at her, she was already staring blankly ahead, like the rest of the audience. It seemed dangerous to meet his gaze now, to admit that she had seen.

Perhaps he had meant her to. ‘But perhaps,’ she thought, ‘I was partially shielded from the effects of his spell by my shadow. I recently read that some mind-controlling effects, like light, enter through the eyes, and I had protected mine before I looked up at the sun.’

The mesmerizing vision of the Plane of Radiance shifted, and Sebastien found her viewpoint descending toward a city of shining whites and rainbows below. They fell into an area on the outskirts that seemed to be a mix of temple, gardens, and open-architecture palace.

Intricate spires of crystal and light reached toward the three suns, their surfaces refracting and scattering luminescence in dazzling patterns. The gardens were a riot of color, filled with plants that seemed to be made of living gemstones and metals. Instead of swaying in the wind, they pulsed in color with its movement. Reflective pools and fountains spraying mist cast prismatic rainbows across the impossibly smooth walkways.

Despite the alien beauty surrounding her, Sebastien struggled to focus on the details.

There were some gasps and sounds of awe from the audience as the vision came to rest before a humanoid—an angel. It was tall and thin, and stood next to a column holding a spear. Like the Radiant Maiden was said to, it had wings, which trailed all the way to the ground behind it, but did not move in the wind as a bird’s feathers might. “Go no further, strange creature,” it warned, its voice carrying an undercurrent of power that tickled Sebastien’s ears. “This is not a place that one can enter and exit freely.”

“I am a human sorcerer from the mundane plane,” Professor Lacer said, “and this form you see is merely a spell I am using to contact you.”

Small sounds from the audience let Sebastien know that everyone else could hear this, at least.

“Are you one of the Radiant Maiden’s host?” he asked.

The angel’s demeanor shifted, becoming more guarded. “I am,” it confirmed.

Lacer nodded, his posture relaxed despite the gravity of the moment. “I offer to trade three lengths of enenra cloth for three of your feathers.”

The angel considered the offer for a moment, its radiance pulsing subtly. “This is a fair trade,” it declared. “Is that…all you have come for? You will depart afterward?”

“Immediately,” Professor Lacer agreed. He drew forth some dark, tattered cloth wrapped around a board from one of his larger pockets, and threw it into the sky. It disappeared into the blackness covering the sun.

The angel had the cloth in its hands, suddenly. It looked extremely out of place there, both dark and threadbare, but it seemed pleased with it. It plucked three of its feathers.

Sebastien looked up. Three feathers were falling from the sky.

Thaddeus bowed, and then, with a sudden rush of sensation, the vision of the Plane of Radiance dissolved.

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, their cheers echoing off of and rumbling through the stone.

The High Crown rose abruptly from his crystalline throne, his face ashen and his movements unsteady. He stumbled down the steps, one hand pressed to his stomach as if to quell a rising nausea. He was not alone in seeming overwhelmed, and several healers began to make their way in through the side entrances. A few moved toward the High Crown, but he waved them off violently.

Damien leaned towards Sebastien, his voice low and tinged with surprise. “I suppose even someone like him can be susceptible to the effects of such intense magic.”

Professor Lacer’s voice rang out across the amphitheater, drawing all eyes back to him. “What you have just witnessed is a breakthrough in planar magic,” he announced, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I have developed a new method of accessing the Elemental Planes without physically entering them. This innovation will allow for greater freedom of exploration and, potentially, open new avenues for trade with these realms.”

As the High Crown neared the exit, still looking decidedly unwell, Thaddeus’s gaze flickered between the retreating noble and Sebastien. His lips twitched in that subtle, familiar expression of amusement that Sebastien had come to recognize. The professor’s voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd once more.

“Before we conclude, I have one more announcement that may interest you all,” he declared. “In approximately one hour, right here in this arena, we will witness a duel. The High Crown’s heir has challenged my apprentice to magical combat.”

A collective gasp rose from the spectators, followed by excited chatter. The High Crown, who had almost reached the exit, froze. He turned slowly around. His face, already pale, seemed to lose what little color remained. “No!” he cried out, his voice a strangled refusal that teetered on the edge of a shout.

Thaddeus continued, seemingly unfazed by the monarch’s outburst. “I understand the High Crown’s reluctance. After all, there is an inherent imbalance in pitting someone who has achieved their Master’s certificate against a second-term University student. I know the High Crown to be an honorable man who would not authorize such injustice. However, we have agreed upon a suitable handicap for Mr. Pendragon, to make things more balanced.” A sly smile played at the corners of Professor Lacer’s mouth. “And I believe my apprentice might just surprise us all.”

The younger Pendragon looked in confusion between the High Crown and Professor Lacer, and then turned to pick Sebastien out of the crowd.

Damien turned to Sebastien. “Why didn’t you say anything about this?”

Sebastien’s lips felt numb. “I just found out about it,” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

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