Immovable Mage

– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 209, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 86 –

“Potatoes?” Bjorln offered the bowl to Samuel.

“Thanks.” Samuel took the bowl and filled his own plate before handing it to Brynn.

“So?” Brynn looked at the three teenagers on the other side of the table. “How was training today?”

Before Terry or the twins could respond, Bjorln already replied. “Whiny, but they’ll get used to it.”

“My sympathies to you three.” Samuel sent them a pitying glance. When he noticed the raised eyebrow on Brynn’s face, he elaborated. “I still remember Olgorn after his exercise sessions.” He shook his head with a wistful smile. “Never heard so much cursing in my life.” He moved his gaze to Isille. “I also remember that you used to call him a lazy bum and me a slacker.”

Instructor Samuel a ‘slacker’? Terry got the unpleasant premonition that their training sessions would get a lot worse.

Samuel turned to Bjorln. “Your future sweetheart was quite concerned that we could have a bad influence on your training, Whaka Bjorln. I always wondered where she got that idea.” His lips twisted into a teasing grin. “What do you think?”

Bjorln coughed and started staring pointedly at the food on his plate. Even though he didn't see it, he could still feel Isille’s gaze burning a hole into his temple.

“How many of your excuses involving those two were actually true?” questioned Isille with slightly narrowed eyes.

Bjorln raised his eyebrows and started biting on his lips.

“A rough estimation is fine, my life,” pressed Isille amusedly. “Half? Quarter?”

Bjorln sighed in resignation. “Quarter for Samuel, half for Olgorn. But look, I grew up fine, didn’t I?” He batted his eyelashes at Isille.

“Despite your best efforts, surprisingly yes.” Isille leaned closer and rubbed the tip of her nose against Bjorln’s.

“Uncle Samuel, which spell are you going to test with Terry today?” asked Lori. Even though the girl was still practicing the Liquify Earth spell with Brynn, she liked to observe Terry’s relentless pursuit of a spell to cast.

Terry looked up from his plate with piqued curiosity as well.

“We have decided to test a broader range and spot-check the non-core systems,” explained Samuel. “After Terry improves more in his mana control, we may even try some intermediate-level spells. Today we will try Light Healing from the upper system.”

“I really hope that one works out,” remarked Jorgen.

“Even if Terry learns the spell, we still expect you to learn one variant of the three foundational healing spells yourself,” stressed Samuel sternly. He knew exactly what was going on in the dwarven boy’s head.

Jorgen made a face, gave a few exaggerated sniffles, and then sighed in resignation.

“Any questions regarding the training?” asked Isille.

“Yes.” replied Jorg instantly. “When can we meet Aunt Sigille?”

“As always, that would be tricky.” Isille answered with an often repeated reply. “She is working in the Tiv Empire. Dimensional gates are not an option.”

“Why not?” inquired Terry. He was getting used to asking questions about things the others had apparently learned long ago. He became increasingly aware that his sheltered upbringing had been unusual, to say the least.

“Because the two empires hate each other,” explained Samuel. “Or at least the governments do.”

“Are we at war?” asked Terry.

“No, Arcana isn’t at war with anyone,” replied Samuel. “The Tiv Empire has a long-standing truce with the Lich Kingdoms, and it is only at war with the Thanatos Empire.”

“Even so, the Tiv Empire hates Arcana most of all,” interjected Brynn with a scowl.

“That sounds weird,” blurted Terry.

“Don’t they teach that stuff at the Academy?” interjected Bjorln in exasperation. “Raising the future leaders in government and all that?”

“Not really,” replied Samuel. “If I had to hazard a guess, then it’s that they do not consider diplomacy all that important. They are raising the future leaders of the Arcana Empire. We are isolating ourselves underneath the barrier and there is not a single country that wants to become enemies with Arcana. Not even Thanatos dares to poke the sleeping dragon.” He shrugged. “The Lich Kingdoms might still harbor some ideas, but they have not forgotten the harsh lessons from their last attempt just yet.”

“Then what was that about the Tiv Empire?” asked Terry.

“They do not want to be enemies either. They…” Samuel moved a hand to scratch his chin. Sometimes his burn scars got itchy. “It is more that they resent us for not wanting to get involved with them.”

“Or for refusing to provide much needed assistance,” added Bjorln with a frown.

“More like they demand support while spitting in the face of their benefactor,” added Brynn with a frown towards Bjorln.

Samuel smiled wryly and sighed. “Both empires share a lot of history. In fact, originally, both were part of the same ancient empire. Even to this day, they share the same national motto: Magic Obliges.” He shook his head. “Their interpretations of that motto, however, are diametrically opposed.

“In Arcana, it is understood in the way that the most capable mages carry the burden to rule for the benefit of the people. In Tiv, by contrast, it is understood in the way that magic ability carries the burden to serve for the benefit of the people.” Samuel returned his attention to his plate. “Important difference.”

Terry frowned. “‘Serve’ like in the Veilbinder’s time?”

Samuel hurriedly swallowed the food in his mouth and replied: “No—”

“Same principle, though,” interrupted Brynn. “If you want to learn or make a living with magic, you have to follow the government’s orders. If your preferences do not align with their quotas, then tough luck.”

“Nevertheless, even though people are not entirely free to choose their work as mages, they still get to experience more of a normal life than in the Veilbinder’s time.” Samuel pointed out. “They do not lock up folks in towers for displaying signs of magic.”

“Except for the cultists!” piped up Jorg. “The cultists still lock people up!” His excited gaze became uncertain. “Right?”

“And who told you about cultists?” demanded Isille with narrowed eyes.

“Uhh…” Jorg blinked twice, then turned to Lori. “Who?”

“Uhh…” Lori blinked twice, then turned to Terry. “Who?”

“…uhh, what?” Terry was at a loss.

“Not what. Who?” Lori blinked twice before turning to Jorg again. “What?”

“Not what,” repeated Jorg. “Who?”

“Nevermind,” grumbled Isille. She already knew the twins’ strategies for evading questions and judged it better to give up early, lest she would only earn herself a headache. She instead looked at Terry and pleaded: “Please avoid having them rub off on you too much, dear. Three of that might be more than I can stomach.”

Lori and Jorg made noiseless gasps and tried their best to look offended. Afterwards, they sneakily glanced at Terry and winked.

“There are still cultists?” asked Terry with sincere astonishment.

“Not so much in Arcana,” replied Samuel.

“At least they usually stay in hiding here,” added Bjorln.

“Outside the barrier, it can be very different,” elaborated Samuel. “The Thanatos Empire is perpetually at war and always trying to expand its borders. They do not take kindly to cultists. I guess it is similar for the Lich Kingdoms. Their rulers do not tolerate any competition as targets of worship.” He shrugged. “In the Tiv Empire and in the Free Factions Union, things are much more chaotic.”

“So they do not allow dimensional travel from Tiv to Arcana?” Jorg returned to the key question. He really wanted to meet his famous aunt.

“Yes and no,” replied Isille. “They do allow you to cross through dimensional gates.” She clicked her tongue. “In theory, that is.”

“Arcana is always happy to accept refugee mages from Tiv,” said Brynn, and winked at the twins.

“Just like Tiv is always happy to accept people as well,” added Bjorln with a sigh.

“I am sure they would be, but that is mostly a hypothetical scenario, isn’t it?” challenged Brynn. “Normal people aren’t exactly lining up to leave the barrier.”

“Anyway,” interjected Samuel. “It is possible to travel from Arcana to Tiv, but the other direction is much more troublesome.”

“I’ll say,” exclaimed Brynn. “If you are capable of magic and you want to cross over, they will first give you the ‘tour’ and try their best pitch in order to enthrall you to whatever cause is their favorite at the time. If that does not dissuade you, they will ask how much you can pay for the crossing. Afterwards, they double the amount and demand that you pay that.”

Brynn’s expression turned darker and darker. “If it turns out that you can still afford that price, they will pocket that money. Afterwards, they’ll posit that you can obviously pay even more. They will double the amount once more and you will remain short of one half. They repeat that procedure as often as necessary to prevent you from crossing. Of course, any deposit you have already made will never be returned.”

Brynn was mangling the piece of roasted chicken breast on her plate with her knife. It looked more like torture than any reasonable attempt at cutting. “The only people that can avoid that nonsense are those involved with Tiv’s government, the noble families, or their relatives and close friends.” The longer she talked about the topic, the angrier she looked.

“Would be interesting if they were to try that routine on a magic sovereign from Arcana,” quipped Samuel in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah no,” scoffed Brynn. “They would not dare. With members of the Council, maybe, but not with the sovereigns. Not that the sovereigns travel much. Even if they do, they probably don’t need to rely on foreign dimensional gates.”

“Of course,” said Brynn wearily. “You can also try your luck with one of the back alley dimensional mages or the dark market dimensional portals. However, I would very much advise against that. With unanchored dimensional travel, you cannot see where you go before it happens. You might end up in the Wastes or in the middle of the Lich Kingdoms.”

“Or one half of you in each place,” interjected Bjorln drily. “Lots of trust needed to rely on a dimensional mage for unanchored travel.”

“Or desperation,” stressed Brynn. Afterwards, she looked at the teenagers with a serious expression. “Never antagonize a dimensional mage, you hear me? If you are ever forced to rely on them, then don’t haggle. Just don’t.”

“Bottom line.” Isille took over the conversation. “You won’t be able to cross directly from Tiv to Arcana. Tiv reaches from west of the barrier to the southwest. All of the north is Wastes. Therefore, the only way is to travel southeast through one of the other empires. Sigille used to visit by going through the Union, but since Thanatos is expanding its borders towards the direction of the barrier, this route is becoming more and more difficult.”

“Why is Aunt Sigille even in Tiv?” asked Lori. “It sounds horrible.”

Isille reminisced and could not help but smile. “Sigille would answer because that is where the fight is. The real fight is outside the barrier. Her husband was a protector for an important mage academy in the Union. After he had died, she went to the Tiv Empire and brought a child she took in.”

“She has kids?” asked Terry. He hadn’t heard about the twins having any cousins.

“Sigille and her husband had a daughter, Emaldine.” Isille grimaced slightly. “She is a bit of a problem child. The boy from the Union is accepted family. He seems to be best people, but…” She shook her head. “Well, suffice it to say the kid has issues of his own.”

“No kidding,” exclaimed Bjorln. “Being possessed by elementals is something of an issue. Seriously, it’s a miracle the kid hasn’t turned into a demon by now.”

“According to Sigille, it is under control,” said Isille. “Matteo has become her accepted family and my sister thinks of him as a son. For three seasons of the cycle, he joins Sigille on missions.”

Bjorln shrugged. “Anyway, even the Divine Hammer will have to retire eventually. Your aunt already did missions for the Guardians when all of us were still learning to count our toes.”

“No bets on that.” Isille seemed skeptical. “I have a hard time imagining my elder sister taking long, peaceful walks through the woods.” She furrowed her brow. “Maybe if the woods were mana corrupted? I can see her smashing in the occasional head of a terror grizzly with her walking stick.”

***

The season of the Setting Moon was coming to an end. One morning, Terry heard a knock at his door. Behind the door, he discovered Brynn and Samuel waiting for him.

Brynn had two letters in her hand. “You have mail.”

“Isn’t that what the letterbox is for?” retorted Terry with a detached look in his eyes.

“Fancy that!” Brynn winked at the boy. “Your former mentor asked us the same question, can you believe it?” Her joking expression melted to one of more severity. “We think some letters are different. May we come in?”

Oh, right. That letter.

It was cruel that the world marched forward no matter how strongly you avoided thinking about it.

“Please.” Terry stood aside and motioned them in.

“Take your time to read them,” said Samuel. “I would start with the one bearing the Academy’s insignia.”

No surprise there. Terry sighed and smiled bitterly. “Apparently, I am a failure at spellwork and I am getting expelled. Who would have thought, right?”

“No matter what the letter says, you are not a failure,” refuted Brynn sternly.

“It is the Academy that has failed you,” stressed Samuel. “Not the other way around. Never forget that. If the Academy had not failed you because of your aspect impairment, then it would have failed you because of your natural talent in mana foundation.”

Terry found it hard to agree with the sentiment, but still. He had never known Instructor Samuel to sugarcoat or to twist his words out of consideration for the feelings of others. His words meant something. If the Instructor said it, then the Instructor truly believed it. That made one of them, at least.

“So what is the bad news?” asked Terry in a weak attempt at humor. He reached out his hand for the second letter.

Brynn leaned slightly forward and smiled. “It’s just news.” She handed him the letter.

Antelias… Rescindment of name… Irrevocable disavowment of relations… What?

“I don’t get it,” muttered Terry. “What do they want from me? What is this supposed to even mean?”

“Meh. Don’t worry,” replied Brynn casually. “First of all, it means that you will not go back to the Greenhouse.”

Wait… Terry suddenly realized that the Academy was more than his place of study. It was also his residence for living.

“Second of all, it means that you do not have to go by that stuffy Antelias family name,” continued Brynn.

“Nor are you allowed to use it ever again at the threat of punishment,” warned Samuel.

“However…” Brynn lifted a finger. “In exchange, you have no obligation to associate with the Antelias family either. No need to go live with strangers just because they happen to carry the same name.” She waved for Terry to join them for a walk. “Come on, we have an appointment to keep.”

***

In the northern quarters of Arcana City, Terry heard the familiar rumbling and tumbling noises before the door was flying open.

“Terry!” “Come, come!”

Jorg and Lori seemed as energetic as ever.

“Pa made pancakes!”

“Morning Auntie, morning Unca.” “Oh right, morning!”

“Ma has to go to the training grounds later today,” said Jorg. “We will get a break for mana soccer.” He clenched a fist and declared challengingly: “Today, I will not lose!”

“Give us a second, you two, will you?” asked Brynn. She, Samuel, and Terry stepped inside.

Samuel made eye contact with Isille. “Whaka Isille, the letters came today.”

“What about the house letter?” inquired Isille with narrowed eyes.

“As expected,” said Samuel. “Rescindment and disavowment.”

“These waste-damned svipa,” Isille’s face instantly flushed with suppressed fury while her eyes grew distant and cold. “Unforgivable.” She looked like she was ready to poke some additional holes into the sender’s body.

Bjorln cleared his throat to catch Isille’s attention. His eyes pointed towards the twins. There was a slight moment of embarrassment on Isille’s face before she looked at the twins sternly.

“You have heard nothing,” stressed Isille. “Nor will I ever hear you repeat what you have not heard. Clear?”

“Yes, Ma.” The dwarven twins knew the correct answer to stay out of trouble. “Clear.”

Unexpectedly for Terry, Isille also looked expectantly at him and she emphasized: “Same for you. Clear?”

“Yes?” Terry knew better than to ask for clarification at this time.

Bjorln was still busy in the kitchen. He looked warmly at his wife and told her: “Go ahead.”

Isille smiled and then turned back to Terry. “They rescinded your last name?”

“Yeah, but…” Terry frowned and muttered confusedly. “I am not sure what that means.”

“It means that you deserve better than these pest beetles,” declared Isille. “Terry, I hereby invite you into our accepted family.” Her intimidating scowl had already melted away to be replaced by a welcoming smile. “You are best people in my book and we would be honored for you to become part of our whanau. As a member of the older generation, I can extend this invitation to you. Once you have seen your eighteenth cycle, you can make your own judgement. I would hope that you, Florine, and Jorgen can become whaka for each other, but that is up to you to decide.”

Terry was stunned and did not know what to say. The twins, on the other hand…

“Yeah! I always wanted a little brother!” “Huh? Yeah! Me too!”

Lori and Jorg moved their gazes from Terry and turned to each other.

“HEY!” “Wait a minute!”

“That,” interrupted Isille sternly. “...is not a commitment to be taken lightly. By none of you. There is a reason that you are supposed to be of age before you can accept your own family. Accepting someone as a whaka is a promise that you will always have their back in times of danger. No matter if you have to brave the hellish Wastes or worse. No matter what. As long as they remain your whaka, you will be there when they are faced with danger and require your aid. You three are still too young to grasp the true weight of such a vow.”

“Consider carefully,” sounded the cheery voice from Bjorln. He had just left the kitchen. “Take your time. Especially you, Terry. Our two chipmunks have quite the knack for getting themselves into trouble. If they keep up that habit, then you would be in for it, too.”

The twins wanted to say something in response, but then reconsidered and remained quiet.

“In any case,” continued Isille. “You can stay here as a welcome guest and friend, Terry. We’ll always have a room ready for you.”

“Come on, let us eat,” suggested Bjorln cheerfully.

“See?” Brynn nudged Terry with her elbow. “Better than living with strangers, right?”

Terry did not manage to find any words yet, but he could still smile and nod.

Lori and Jorg went to Terry’s side.

“So?” “The little lord sovereign had a secret last name, did he?”

Both of them pulled down their chins while keeping their mouths closed. They nodded slowly and then spoke with intentionally nasal voices.

“Why dear me, my good sir.” “We have not been properly introduced.”

Lori performed a mock bow. Jorg did a curtsy and lifted an imaginary skirt. Afterwards, they stood up straight and grinned.

“So what was it?” questioned Jorg. “Was it Lord Farts-A-Lot?”

“I thought that was supposed to become your last name?” remarked Lori.

“Yes, indeed, and I demand exclusive usage rights. That is why I cannot tolerate any imitators.” Jorg shook his head before giving a heavy sigh. “Even if it’s you, Terry. If you infringe upon my destined name, then there is no choice. We will have to set a duel at noon on the day of the second moon.”

Lori clicked her tongue. “Choice of weapons?”

“Traditional, of course,” replied Jorg gravely.

Lori turned to Terry. “That means mudballs.”

***

Samuel was assisting Terry with packing up his stuff in the Academy. Moving was a lot easier if you had access to a properly sized dimensional bag with weight elimination.

“So, uhm…” Terry was fidgeting with his hands.

“Yes?” Samuel looked expectantly at the boy.

“I know I have not heard it, but…” Terry creased his brows. “What exactly is a svipa?”

Samuel exhaled some air from his nose. “Essentially someone that abandons family. Are you already familiar with the term nama?”

“Yeah, I think so,” replied Terry. “‘Thank you’ or ‘sorry’, right?”

“Mostly, yes.” Samuel nodded. “It emphasizes the acknowledgement of a debt.” He pointed at Terry with two fingers. “You must never spit after using that term.”

“Spit?” Terry scrunched up his face. “Why would I spit?”

“Does not matter, just don’t,” stressed Samuel. “Spitting on the ground after using nama changes the meaning from acknowledging a debt to holding a grudge. Essentially, it breaks off all ties with the family. Svipa literally means spit bucket – either someone that spits or that causes their whaka to spit. It is about the worst insult a traditionalist dwarf can throw at you.” He nodded towards the remaining things to pack. “Now, let's hurry it up a bit.”

After everything had been packed, the two left. In the halls, Terry saw Instructor Pelliana showing around an awed student whom he had never seen before: a girl with curly blond hair.

“The kid had the best entrance examination results this cycle,” remarked Samuel with a hint of sadness. “Not as much of an outlier as yours, but enough to have her spoiled at the Academy.” He sighed. “I hope she’ll do alright.”

***