Ars Magica : A tale

Chapter I

As the first rays of the sun shone on the wall of the chamber, Aurel woke up, gently and peacefully. Just before his housekeeper, Miss Berth- knocked on the door and entered without waiting for any instructions. She opened the red curtains while blathering instructions that the young man barely listened to. She kept rambling as she untangled his hair, while house servants brought his clothes to wear for the day. One must be new as he didn't recall seeing her face before. He couldn't help but notice the look she gave him, a mix of disdain and jealousy, spiced with a sprinkle of fear. As they left his chamber, he suggested a bet with Miss Berth on how long she would stay before leaving.

"It shouldn't be of your concern, young magus." Firmly stated the old lady, before slightly smiling. "But the gardener placed three pennies that she would leave within the month, and the steward raised to four thinking she will stay until she becomes a mother."

"I'll take those odds, tell them I'll give them both five pennies if she stays until I leave this place."

Miss Berth smiled as she finished her task, then left without pronouncing anything else.

He briefly sat on his bed, looking through the window, the plains and mountains on the horizon never fail to calm his nerves and help to cleanse his mind after a long day of studying. He sees the small nameless village he comes from, where he was taken from his mother to live here, in this grand and magnificent castle. He can't put a face on her voice, it's been a decade since he saw her.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and mumbles a few words in Latin, gently moving his hands. Today is the day he's telling her, the day he confesses his feelings, how much he finds her beautiful, how much he loves her. When he opens his eyes, he holds a rose. It looks dry, and in an instant, it disappears into the air. He's sweating, his breath a bit short, his heart pounding through his clothes. It stops when a dog barges into the room, putting its head on his lap, waiting to be petted. Harold, the old hound with jade eyes has always been there in the morning without fail, except when his master or Aurel is absent.

A firm knock on the open door announced Julius ex Mercere, Aurel's pater. The old man wore his usual long black dress covering all of his skin except his face. His eyes were similar to the ones of the blinds, white and empty. He approached while muttering incantations and softly tapped Aurel's forehead. He then turned back to leave the room.

- You are early, Inquired the boy standing up to follow, "Our lessons are supposed to start not until after breakfast."

- We do not practice today, as a matter of fact, we will not practice until Spring.

- But Summer just started, why do you teach me only four months a year?

- I am legally obliged to teach you the Arts one season per year. If it were up to me, you would be in a room with only books. The rest of the year, you are free to study on your own, roam through the country, and give children to girls around the world to ensure the prosperity of our bloodlines.

- You are trying to change the subject! And you know I do not want to have children with anybody, I am way too young and I cannot do that outside of marriage, the Lord would not approve!

- When I was your age, I already had four kids. The deacon Donatus should not have taught you such things, his contract stipulates he may only teach Latin. It only applies to the mundane and mediocre magi. Our kind is not allowed such weakness of heart.

- It does not change the fact you do not teach me enough, and you are the only parens I know who does the bare minimum to raise his filius. Look at Geoffroi, his pater spends all of his time with him and he even trains him to hunt magical beasts!

- They are from de Flambeau, they were born and destined to be idiots.

- What about Attia? She spends most of her time in the laboratory with her mater, assisting her with her research.

- The ones from Bonisagus are too focused on their renown inside their own house, they forget the sense of responsibility. And I do not think you want to spend the year cleaning vials and writing laboratory notes for an entire day, you were bored to tears last year when we confectioned the longevity potion for Gerald.

- It seems to work, Attia knows the theory of magic better than I do and the spells of Geoffroi are by far greater than mine. I am way behind them in every domain.

- Are we going to have this conversation every year?

- Yes, you keep bragging about our superior lineage but I feel like a master of none.

- You have way more talent than most magi you will meet but do not fear. Tonight I will bring you lectures to match Geoffroi's flames.

- Where are you going? I do not recall you mentioning anything about acquiring a book.

- I received a letter from two good friends in Normandy asking me to overlook a conflict. They promised me a good reward and I know one of them happens to have one of the greatest libraries of the tribunal.

- Is the civil war there over? Is it not too dangerous to go there without any hoplites? And why are they asking for your help instead of a quaesitor?

- It is far from being over, and they are not fond of the idea of bringing the eye of justice in this affair. Everyone has something to hide.

On these words, the magus muttered some incantations, gestured with his hands, and disappeared in a flash of light. Leaving the young man and the dog in the middle of the corridor. The dog could talk, but wished not, as he didn't know what to say to ease the visible frustration of the young man.