A scholar who reveres wizards and a street rat who despises them both find themselves apprenticed to a mage with a dark storied past and discover he is not what either of them expected. They may end up learning more from each other than they do from...
Tenet did his best to ignore the chatter on the other end of the room as he studied the history tome in his hands.
The voices continued from the other side of the room. "No one in their right mind would actually want to be a wizard."
Tenet made a point of turning his chair to put his back to the conversation.
"Except Tenet over there. The only aspirant in the kingdom who actually hopes to be trained by an insane old mage."
"And a traitor." Another added.
"That too," the first one said. "I wonder if Tenet even knows half of what they say about his hero."
"It's not like he has a chance, anyway. None of us do. Everyone knows Madrigal the Mad doesn't accept apprentices. He turns everyone away."
"That's what I'm counting on. I wouldn't train with that old monster for all the gold in Kemura. But being turned away from him is enough to get me into the Ordo, where I can do some real good."
"And be paid for the effort," another added.
"Too much trouble personally. Why go all that way to make money? I'd just as soon not stay here. There's a lot of barons and merchants who would love to marry their daughters to a crown aspirant."
At this, there were several cries of assent.
Tenet could take no more. He closed his book noisily, set it aside and stood with his back to the crowd of young men on the other side of the room, speaking between deep breaths. "None of you deserve to be crown aspirants. The entire purpose of these tests is to find worthy candidates to train under a wizard. None of you even understand that."
"Oh we understand, Tenet. We understand reality. Something you might try living in if you didn't have your head full of nonsense about being a wizard. What good has a wizard ever done for you?"
Tenet took a deep breath and didn't take the bait. The others weren't entirely wrong, anyway. No wizard had done anyone in Lytgard any good in nearly a century. But Tenet had read the histories. He knew what the wizards of old had been like. "Things will change when I am a wizard."
"So confident that you are to be selected then, young Tenet? I wasn't aware the trials had already ended." The voice speaking was not one of the other aspirants but that of one of the temple scribes who administered the trials. Tenet froze at the unexpected rebuke. "In fact, I would very much like to speak to you about your last test. Come along. As for the rest of you, cease your blabbering and return to your studies if you wish to be of any value to anyone, wizard or otherwise."
Tenet grabbed his book off the chair and followed the scribe out of the room, with a half dozen stares following him.
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Tenet followed the scribe upward into the Tower of Light, remaining a respectful number of paces behind. The acolytes rarely permitted those not of the order this high. Tenet's first impression was one of awe. Hurried scribes were consulting map and charts, gazing into telescopes, and scribbling hasty observations. Scented incense and the droning chants of the lightsingers filled the room. The scribe led Tenet past much of the commotion to a balcony overlooking the city.
Standing beside the scribe, Tenet placed his hands on the rail to steady himself in awe at the view. The towers and walls of Highhold stretched out before him, commanding a majestic view of the valleys and mountain passes beyond the city.
Tenet waited for the scribe to speak first, as was customary. After several long moments, the scribe did so. "Beautiful. Graced by Lux, our city truly shines in the light of her stars." He paused a moment. "But I didn't bring you up here for a religious lesson. I've been going over the examinations, Tenet, and I find myself surprised by you."
The scribe reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of parchment, reading from it. "An ancient riddle from the extinct Ceryan empire. 'Tongues of smoke, always feeding, never fed.' Every other aspirant gave the answer 'fire' and yet you wrote 'the grave'. How do you explain this?"
Tenet took a deep breath. "It's the right answer, sir."
The scribe arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Indeed? Does a grave produce smoke, Tenet?"
"No sir. Our translations of ancient Ceryan derive from the Ilyrian Empire, but Ilyrians were superstitious about death and altered the translation. Properly translated, it should have been grave dust, not smoke."
The scribe took this in for a moment and then smiled. "Well done, Tenet. You have passed the examination."
Tenet quickly processed this, feeling a lump in his throat. "Does this mean I am selected to be Seeker?"
Another voice, more aged, sounded behind. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." Tenet turned with a start as the scribe gave a respectful bow to the bow to Elder Lightspeaker.
"Scribe," the aged elder returned a cordial nod. "You may go." The elder turned his attention to Tenet as the scribe hastily removed himself from the balcony. "You wish to be a wizard, boy?"
"Very much so, Elder. I have dreamed of it my whole life."
The elder measured his words. "The stars know nothing of dreams or fancies. They know only their dance across the heavens, predestined for a millennia of millennia. Anyone who can understand their past may gleam some of their future."
Tenet nodded, aware of the core principle of the Temple of Light.
"And by knowing their future, we may deduce more of our own." The Elder looked down over the balcony at the city beyond. "Our land has known peace for too long. The stars whisper a return to war. A return to fighting. We must ready ourselves." He turned slowly to Tenet and considered the young man across a beak-like nose. "But you. You aim to be a wizard. Would you then forsake your loyalty to your homeland, Tenet? Are your aspirations greater than this land that sired you?"
Tenet shook his head. "No, Elder. I love Lytgard. As a wizard, I would seek to serve all the people of all kingdoms fairly."
The Elder shook his head. "There is no fair in war, Tenet. And war is coming. And the stars say that without a wizard on our side, our people will suffer. Would your 'fairness' let you watch your people suffer, Tenet?"
"No, Elder. It would not."
"Then you would remain loyal to Lytgard even if you become a wizard?"
"Of course, Elder."
"Then you have completed the final examination. I name you Seeker of Llyr. May the wizard take as much note of your exceptional skills as we have, young Tenet."
