While Charity is snuggled comfily in her bed, for
once anticipating happy dreams, let us pause for an educational dissertation. We’ll
title it “How does one become a wizard and what does a wizard do? Really?”
Contrary to myth and story, wizards do not sit in
their towers and watch the world, making judgments and hatching plots. They contribute
to the Families, just like the rest of us, by using their energy in the service
of the Nation.
Perhaps you remember the avalanche in 2507, where
two hundred cousins had to be evacuated, their lands cleared, and homes rebuilt
before they could return. Wizards, Templars,
and healers handled the brunt of that work. Assisting in disaster situations is
the price the Gifted pay for having
supernatural power.
All other services, however, are provided to the Nation
for the express purpose of balancing the needs of the tower. Oh yes, there are needs
in a tower. A wizard’s household goes through a lot of boiled linen in a halfmoon,
if you remember. And in order for cooks to cook and guards to guard, they need
food and shelter and security. And of course, there are the spell ingredients,
which don’t (usually) fall from thin air.
Thus, when Mathan
Sara needs help clearing the rocks from some land, she submits a request. Or,
more accurately, her secretary does. The power loves telekinesis, so those
rocks move almost too fast. But she still contacts us every year.
When the local Tavern wants to have flashing
lights at an event, they contact a wizard.
When LeSire
Fremont wants his son to stay indoors for a halfmoon, he asks a wizard.
If you ask the right wizard, you can get almost
anything.
Charity was not that wizard. From day one, there
were things she would not do. Even after she came to terms with her forced
career, these rules remained in place: Shadowed Rooster would not kidnap anyone
and would not rescue anyone kidnapped; those were political issues and Charity
did not do politics. Shadowed Rooster would help mend armor but would not
enchant it. Shadowed Rooster would only attempt to affect the weather if there
was danger of drought or drowning, and then, only with R’Majesty’s approval. And
there would be no killing, poisoning or maiming. Well, except for the one case
where someone wanted a temporary maiming for a costume party.
Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. If you had
the power, you would do all that and more. You would build mountains and blow
up bridges and smite your enemies, and all would tremble before you.
Except you would not, unless you were a
natural wizard.
A natural wizard is one who is born with new power
and can indeed do pretty much anything she wishes. A natural wizard is someone
who will be great, in which case the Nation is in big trouble because it needs such
a great wizard; or that wizard will be nasty, in which case ditto. A natural
wizard is very rare; and for this, we give thanks. I know you all have been
affected by the Nameless Son, either personally or through your elders, so you
know whereof I speak.
For the rest of the Family, becoming a wizard is
just like any career: apply for training, survive training, and become Entitled.
Entitlement requires an oath to use your skills only for the purpose for which those
skills were bestowed, and only in the service of the Family. Hence, no smiting.
Of course, you can’t train a wizard hopeful
without giving her some power. And, as we have seen, a wizard can turn you into
something unpleasant with the blink of an eye. (They’re not supposed to, but
they are human). So how does one keep the balance of power with a wizard trainee
who is still just a young thing likely to make mistakes or abuse her power?
The same way one keeps any trainee in place. Treat
them affectionately, only take half of what they say seriously, make sure you
always have something for them to do, and place limits upon them. For example,
a wizard trainee can only use power under the teaching wizard’s direct supervision
and only, unless some emergency threatens, in the workroom.
But most importantly, any trainee deemed unworthy
of the power will find herself stripped of it. Up until the very night a cousin
is entitled, the power could simply decide not to work and fade quietly away.
Yes, you heard correctly. The power decides.
This proof that the power had its own mind did not
make Charity any more comfortable in her position, nor any less resentful of
the burden of that power. Nor any less hopeful that the power would someday
find her unworthy. Which made finding the right trainee doubly important.
So, how does one find a trainee or two? Preferably
trainees who like power and appreciate it and want to use it. And trainees who don’t
mind answering to a fourteen-year-old girl who had no idea what she was doing. And
trainees who won’t make said fourteen-year-old girl feel more slow and stupid
than she felt already.
One asks her secretary, as Charity did the morning
after her naming. And just that easily, Acting
Savant Deibra produced a request for
young but exuberant, friendly, smart and, most of all, tough cousins who were
interested in learning magic. The advertisements were posted in the Inns and
Temples around the Nation, as well as read out on the daily news for one halfmoon.
Applicants responded by sending letters of interest to the Tower.
A ton of introductory letters. And despite the
fact that Shadowed Rooster had more magical requests than could be filled
daily, Sunny insisted Charity spend every afternoon on the applications. “Life,”
said Sunny, “is about more than just power.”
“Like cats,” said Deibra. “Or turtles.”
The letters were sifted through and sorted into
three groups – “Will work”, “No opinion”, and “Not while I live in this tower”.
Charity was picky and particular, and still the pile of possible candidates was
a hefty one. Sunny and Charity stared at each other in consternation, not quite
sure what to do next.
Deibra said, somewhat tartly, “Perhaps the Acting NeachDare d’Shadowed Rooster should ask her Familiar what to do? That is one of the Familiar’s jobs, after all - to offer sound advice.”
“If only it were less superior sounding advice. Understandable
advice. Perhaps compassionate advice,” Charity muttered. Nevertheless, she went
down to the statue garden and reanimated the cat with the big mouth.
The cat actually looked approving. “It’s about
time. If Destin had the foresight you have, we would not be in this tangle in
the first place. Not that he ever listened to me, any more than you do. I don’t
know why I bother.”
“Because that, according to Acting Savant Deibra, is
your job,” said Charity nastily.
“So,” Sunny added hastily, “we were hoping you
would impart your wisdom. What is the best way to test the applicants and
discover who will be a good trainee for Shadowed Rooster?”
The cat flicked his tail gracefully as
he listed the appropriate steps. “First, you contact the Palace at Tara and
reserve one of the Truth Chambers.” Flick. “Second, you send a reply to the
applicants you have not rejected, requesting them to meet at the Palace on a
specific day.” Flick. “Third, on that day, you request the Truth Chamber to
identify applicants who are serious about becoming wizards and who will serve
the Nation in the best and highest form. The ones who do not make the cut, you
dismiss.” Slash, flick. “Fourth, you give a little of the power to each of the remaining
applicants and let them play with it.” Flick. “Fifth, you interview each
remaining applicant, and retrieve the power to see how it melds with your
power.” Flick. “Sixth, you decide which applicants you like best. You can train
up to five cousins. But each tower may only have two additional wizards, so if
you choose more than two trainees, it’s customary to let the extras go after a
year.”
Charity, who was eyeing the tail with intent, went
white. “I don’t know if I can handle two trainees, much less five!”
The tail flicked dismissively. “The rest of your
household can handle them. You have only to teach. Moreover, be unapproachable,
distant, stern, and disapproving, so they will fear you. It’s the only way to
keep such young things under control. Of course, I can be of assistance in
lectures on power and the proper use of it.” The tail settled gracefully around
the stern, unapproachable cat.
Charity managed to thank him politely, but only
because Sunny stepped on her toes.
Two days after speaking to the Familiar, Shadowed Rooster held the
power auditions for the applicants who had made it into the “Will Work”
category. After the round in the Truth Chamber, there were still many good candidates, which made Charity feel better about
life in general (though not necessarily her life in general.) She peeked into
backgrounds (which Sunny assured her was legal) and eliminated more cousins
because of possible future obligations or the way they treated their siblings. That
still left twenty young cousins Charity would have enjoyed getting to know
better.
Twenty cousins to gift a little power and schedule
another meeting for the next day. Twenty cousins to retrieve power from while
Sunny made conversation and asked inane questions, like what kind of tree they
would be, if they could be a tree. (Which is more pertinent than you would
think, considering what a wizard can do.) Twenty little snippets of power to analyze;
twenty first impressions to remember; twenty names rolling around in her head.
Happily, it took Charity very little thought to
choose among the twenty, because the flavor of the power was most pleasant
after two applicants, Stan and Shaughan.
Stan neAnicheyStrahan a’Tara was the son of two Heralds; thus, he wasn’t promised to a
future, nor required to marry to maintain the family land. Growing up in the
palace made him very familiar with Tara and not over-awed by those born to
their titles. His essence had the flavor of studious hard work and a general
love of experimentation, which translated to Charity’s fourteen-year-old brain
as fun.
Shaughan neJensinyGrover d’Flaithbheartaigh a’Amaethon
had bright colors and nice smells and something warm and fuzzy, which Charity
later learned was a good heart. Shaughan was a third daughter and thus, also
free to follow her own destiny. Even if her sisters perished untimely, as Mathan Marla’s had, there were plenty of
women available to take possession of the land for which Gardner Jensin was responsible.
The chosen two were given a halfmoon to pack and
bid their families farewell. The remaining applicants were told thank you,
given a treat with a token from the tower, and sent on their way.
The halfmoon before the trainees arrived was a
long one for Charity. Her power was back to full force, as was her morning cry,
and she thought if she had to deal with it for much longer, she’d turn the
whole place into statues and run away. Happily, there was plenty to do. After All
Fools’, the request list was very long -- there is nothing like having your son
break into the guards’ barracks and pilfer breastplates to make you decide you
need a better door. And a security system. And a birch rod that would wield
itself.
As soon as they were settled, Charity put Shaughan
and Stan to work.
First, she gave them some power. Second, she taught them how
to cast the statue spell. And how to undo it. (It was only fair.) Third, the trainees
practiced the statue spell on the big-mouthed cat, because ever since Charity
had taken its advice, it had become snottier. She was happy to let Stan and
Shaughan change it back to solid stone.
As a direct result of that action, Deibra began
bringing animals to the dinner table. The owl was amusing, since all he did was
sit in the corner and turn his head upside down. The long-legged dog was
annoying because she would shy away every time someone clanked something. But
when the iguana crawled into her noodles, Charity decided she had had enough. “I
do not require another Familiar at
this time,” she said firmly to the little lizard. “And if another animal
appears at the dinner table without being broiled, baked, fried, stewed, or
covered in pastry, there will be a change in the menu.” Which took care of the
extra guests. At the dinner table anyway.
The trainees’ jobs mainly consisted of watching
and taking notes as Charity dealt with the daily requests. However, as soon as
Stan or Shaughan proved they understood something, Charity let them try it.
When they weren’t earning their keep, there was
the other assignment from the Danu --
figuring out how to seal up all the little cracks in Shadowed Rooster’s shield,
so even a small, non-offensive spell could not get through without permission. Here,
Charity’s lack of years and experience was actually a blessing; neither she nor
the trainees had any shyness about putting forth ideas for fear of feeling
silly. Imagining the many improbable ways the enemy could penetrate became a
game that evolved into magic duels, which were very good for working out aggression. And for finding new (usually accidental) ways to do things. Stan
and Shaughan and Charity became comfortable with each other; Charity occasionally
joked; and the shields around the tower became so solid, cousins had to push a
little to exit or enter the property.
Best of all, Charity’s morning cry became a little
less forceful. Sunny spent a moon being smug that having trainees helped Charity
so much.
Charity did not contradict her. Her power had
settled to a dull roar. She was really learning how it worked, how it felt, and
therefore how to control it, and that was the main goal, wasn’t it? She didn’t
feel as pressured. She didn’t feel like everyone -- including the many wizards who
had ruled Shadowed Rooster before her -- were watching every move and
criticizing most of them.
But she did feel a little guilty.
Sunnyjoked
about blessings, but Charity knew that, like miracles, some blessings had more
plebeian explanations. And when all else fails, a cousin must take care of
herself.
