Winds of Vesperia - Promoted
Another short story, this one set very close to the end of last session, after the conjuration ritual at the rift but before the sighting of the Falan fleet. In which it is revealed that, as always, actions have consequences.
Promoted
The sounds of celebration filtered through the porthole of her small cabin. She could practically feel the manna welling from the rift, the life-giving source of power for their ships and their striders. The colony ships had already begun the long trip from De Aar to Phalaborwa, and the rest of the fleet would need to follow them soon enough. But now was a time for joy. At least, it was for most.
“Thirty minutes, Archmagus.”
“Thank you, Mika.”
The door closed softly behind the junior mage and the latch clicked shut. Amber smoothed the front of her dress uniform, though it was already perfectly flat due to the ministrations she’d given it over the last half-hour. “I’m not nervous,” she said to her reflection.
The woman on the other side of the glass stared back at her uncertainly.
“All right, I’m a little nervous,” she admitted.
The statistics were simple enough that even a first-year apprentice could be expected to memorize them: There were 350,000 members of the Human Expeditionary Fleet. Approximately one in twenty were selected to begin an apprenticeship within the Mage Corps. Of those, one in five would graduate to become full members of the Corps, with the rest being lost to attrition, mishap, and occasionally death. The Corps stood proudly at 3,500 members, or thereabouts. However, most of the officers would stall out somewhere in the middle ranks, realizing that the most complex spells were beyond even their prodigious reach. Only one in a hundred would achieve the rank of Archmage and be invited to join the 40-member Council of Archmages. And now Amber was one of them.
As a newly-promoted major, she was both the most junior and by far the youngest of the Council members. For a moment, she considered spells that would make her appear older and more established: a few wrinkles to her face and hands, perhaps. Some silver in her hair. A pair of decorative spectacles.
She dismissed the idea. If they were going to accept her, they would accept her as she was. She would show them that even in youth, there could be power and wisdom.
There was a knock on the door and Mika poked his head in once more, rousing her from her brooding thoughts. “Archmagus Stephan of Transmutation to see you, ma’am.”
Amber’s brow furrowed. “Yes, of course. Send him in.”
She rose as Mika stepped aside to allow the senior mage to enter. As the Archmagus of Transmutation, General Stephen held authority over every transmuter in the Mage Corps, even Amber. She gave him a sharp salute as he entered, and he returned it more formally than Amber would have expected. The door shut behind him.
“Major,” he said by way of greeting.
“Archmagus. I wasn’t expecting to see you until the Council meeting.”
The corners of the Archmagus’ eyes crinkled, though he kept the smile from his lips. “No, I imagine you weren’t. Is there somewhere we can speak?”
Amber took a moment to look around the small cabin that Captain Jass had assigned to her. It was barely the size of a lieutenant’s office back aboard the fleet, though the furnishings were somewhat more comfortable. She gestured apologetically. “We can speak here. Or if it would be more amenable, I could conjure…”
The Archmagus interrupted her with a gesture. “No need,” he said. “This won’t take long. No need to summon anything just for me.”
He took a seat on the guest chair next to Amber’s desk. Like her, he wore his dress uniform, the medals and insignia bars gleaming in the light that streamed from the window. Like her, he wore the yellow sash of the transmuter, though his was naturally more intricately embroidered and trimmed with gold and silver. He wore it casually, with the comfort of a man who had worn this uniform for decades. He must be nearing retirement, Amber thought as she took her own chair. He was nearly sixty. Surely he would step aside soon to pursue his own researches and allow another archmage to take his place.
With a few gestures and incantations, Archmagus Stephan cast an anti-scrying field and soundproofed the cabin. He studied the effect of his spells for a moment, then nodded and looked at Amber. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Fine. Pleased.” Amber responded. The Archmagus regarded her silently. Amber sighed. “A little nervous,” she admitted.
“That’s one of the reasons I came to see you. I try to meet with all the new archmagi before their first Council session. I find it helps ease the transition, allows them to ask any questions of protocol or etiquette before reaching the chambers. Puts their minds at ease. It happens infrequently enough that I can usually manage to meet them all. Though in your case, I must admit I made something of a special effort.”
“Is that because of my age, or the fact that I’ve been away, or because I seem to have already made a few powerful rivals even before officially accepting the title?”
The Archmagus smiled. “All of those, and a few more that you likely don’t know about yet.” He leaned forward slightly. “I wanted to reassure you that we had very little difficulty in getting approval for your promotion. We’ve all seen the reports, both yours and the other officers’, and it was abundantly clear to us all that your presence was pivotal to the success of the away mission. Your quick thinking and facility with the arcane arts were at times vital. Despite the fact that you will be the youngest member to serve on the Council in seventy years, there was near-unanimous agreement to induct you.”
Amber waited. Such a speech could only be leading up to a counterpoint.
The Archmagus leaned back in his chair. “That said, near-unanimous is not completely unanimous,” he said with a touch of bitterness. “Ivan was most displeased that his ritual didn’t work.”
To hear the Archmagus of Necromancy talked about in such familiar terms made Amber start, and her eyes darted about to make sure the wards were still well in place.
She opened her mouth to respond, but Archmagus Stephen waved off her words. “We don’t need to talk about that now,” he said. “Whatever happened, happened. And when the rest of the Council and the Admiralty got wind of the potential consequences of what could have happened if his ritual had been successful… Well, let’s just say that he’s not in a position to do any agitating to try again.”
Amber nodded, relieved. The notebooks she had used to prepare the ritual were safely stored, somewhere that even other archmages would have difficulty accessing it. She had been acutely aware of how close she had come to demotion, expulsion, or even death at the hands of the Archmagus of Necromacy. With a little luck, neither he nor anyone else would ever ask for those notebooks again.
Archmagus Stephen stared out the window a moment before resuming the conversation. “I should inform you, in case you didn’t know, that even archmages are subject to occasional divinations and detections. No one is above the law in this - a rogue archmage would pose a remarkable threat to the fleet. If anything, the spells that are used on us are more powerful than the ones we use on the apprentices and the junior officers, commensurate with our increased power and authority.”
He paused a moment to allow Amber to absorb the deeper meaning of his statement. He did not have to pause long. If anyone chose to look, they would immediately realize what she had done. If they saw in her thoughts that she had disobeyed orders and deliberately sabotaged a key ritual, Archmagus Ivan would not need her notebooks to do whatever he wished to her. Her face blanched.
Archmagus Stephan continued conversationally. “I don’t blame you for being less than enthusiastic. It’s unpleasant, and I can’t say that any of us particularly like it. But it’s necessary, so we do it for the good of the fleet.” He waved his hand, as though ‘the good of the fleet’ were a mythical creature that he had heard about often but never seen. “Now, your detailed reports and the memory crystals you sent when you first discovered the rift near the chaos godling will probably be enough to keep your name off the rotation for at least a little while. No one doubts your sincerity in performing your mission.”
He paused and considered this. “There will of course be other missions. I believe Admiral Vash wishes to extend Specialist Tam’s mandate to find us allies among the elves, and no doubt there will be multiple expeditions to attempt to find the uncharted islands we’ve been told exist… somewhere. You’ve proven a capable battlefield mage, Amber, and certainly any team would be lucky to have you. I’m sure I could convince the Council to spare you for a year or two to conduct your particularly important work. And in the meantime, things around here might settle down a bit. Certain mishaps might get forgotten in the face of new priorities.”
He couldn’t have been more clear if he had actually told her outright to spend some time away from the fleet and the necromancers. Amber cleared her throat. “I’ll certainly consider my options.”
The Archmagus nodded, satisfied that he’d delivered his message. “Good,” he said. “In the end, though, I mostly came to congratulate you. No matter what anyone says, your promotion wasn’t a political move or a quid pro quod or based on anything other than merit. You deserve your seat, and I’m happy to have you with me.”
Amber allowed herself to feel the flush of accomplishment. “Thank you, sir.”
The Archmagus smiled with his eyes. “Amber, you’re an Archmage of the Council. When we’re in private, you can call me Stephen.”
“Of course.”
“Well,” said the Archmagus, rising from his chair, “I suppose I’ll let you get back to your preparations. I wouldn’t want to keep you too long.” He spared a glance to the hourglass on Amber’s desk. “I’ll see you in nine and a half minutes.”
Amber stood and saluted. “General.”
The Archmagus returned her salute. “Major.”
With a nod, he turned toward the door, which opened at his approach and closed after he passed through.
Amber turned back to the mirror and smoothed her uniform. From outside the window, the sounds of celebration still echoed. And in nine and a quarter minutes, she would take her place among the high officers whose mandate was to plan the next step for humanity.
Promoted
The sounds of celebration filtered through the porthole of her small cabin. She could practically feel the manna welling from the rift, the life-giving source of power for their ships and their striders. The colony ships had already begun the long trip from De Aar to Phalaborwa, and the rest of the fleet would need to follow them soon enough. But now was a time for joy. At least, it was for most.
“Thirty minutes, Archmagus.”
“Thank you, Mika.”
The door closed softly behind the junior mage and the latch clicked shut. Amber smoothed the front of her dress uniform, though it was already perfectly flat due to the ministrations she’d given it over the last half-hour. “I’m not nervous,” she said to her reflection.
The woman on the other side of the glass stared back at her uncertainly.
“All right, I’m a little nervous,” she admitted.
The statistics were simple enough that even a first-year apprentice could be expected to memorize them: There were 350,000 members of the Human Expeditionary Fleet. Approximately one in twenty were selected to begin an apprenticeship within the Mage Corps. Of those, one in five would graduate to become full members of the Corps, with the rest being lost to attrition, mishap, and occasionally death. The Corps stood proudly at 3,500 members, or thereabouts. However, most of the officers would stall out somewhere in the middle ranks, realizing that the most complex spells were beyond even their prodigious reach. Only one in a hundred would achieve the rank of Archmage and be invited to join the 40-member Council of Archmages. And now Amber was one of them.
As a newly-promoted major, she was both the most junior and by far the youngest of the Council members. For a moment, she considered spells that would make her appear older and more established: a few wrinkles to her face and hands, perhaps. Some silver in her hair. A pair of decorative spectacles.
She dismissed the idea. If they were going to accept her, they would accept her as she was. She would show them that even in youth, there could be power and wisdom.
There was a knock on the door and Mika poked his head in once more, rousing her from her brooding thoughts. “Archmagus Stephan of Transmutation to see you, ma’am.”
Amber’s brow furrowed. “Yes, of course. Send him in.”
She rose as Mika stepped aside to allow the senior mage to enter. As the Archmagus of Transmutation, General Stephen held authority over every transmuter in the Mage Corps, even Amber. She gave him a sharp salute as he entered, and he returned it more formally than Amber would have expected. The door shut behind him.
“Major,” he said by way of greeting.
“Archmagus. I wasn’t expecting to see you until the Council meeting.”
The corners of the Archmagus’ eyes crinkled, though he kept the smile from his lips. “No, I imagine you weren’t. Is there somewhere we can speak?”
Amber took a moment to look around the small cabin that Captain Jass had assigned to her. It was barely the size of a lieutenant’s office back aboard the fleet, though the furnishings were somewhat more comfortable. She gestured apologetically. “We can speak here. Or if it would be more amenable, I could conjure…”
The Archmagus interrupted her with a gesture. “No need,” he said. “This won’t take long. No need to summon anything just for me.”
He took a seat on the guest chair next to Amber’s desk. Like her, he wore his dress uniform, the medals and insignia bars gleaming in the light that streamed from the window. Like her, he wore the yellow sash of the transmuter, though his was naturally more intricately embroidered and trimmed with gold and silver. He wore it casually, with the comfort of a man who had worn this uniform for decades. He must be nearing retirement, Amber thought as she took her own chair. He was nearly sixty. Surely he would step aside soon to pursue his own researches and allow another archmage to take his place.
With a few gestures and incantations, Archmagus Stephan cast an anti-scrying field and soundproofed the cabin. He studied the effect of his spells for a moment, then nodded and looked at Amber. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Fine. Pleased.” Amber responded. The Archmagus regarded her silently. Amber sighed. “A little nervous,” she admitted.
“That’s one of the reasons I came to see you. I try to meet with all the new archmagi before their first Council session. I find it helps ease the transition, allows them to ask any questions of protocol or etiquette before reaching the chambers. Puts their minds at ease. It happens infrequently enough that I can usually manage to meet them all. Though in your case, I must admit I made something of a special effort.”
“Is that because of my age, or the fact that I’ve been away, or because I seem to have already made a few powerful rivals even before officially accepting the title?”
The Archmagus smiled. “All of those, and a few more that you likely don’t know about yet.” He leaned forward slightly. “I wanted to reassure you that we had very little difficulty in getting approval for your promotion. We’ve all seen the reports, both yours and the other officers’, and it was abundantly clear to us all that your presence was pivotal to the success of the away mission. Your quick thinking and facility with the arcane arts were at times vital. Despite the fact that you will be the youngest member to serve on the Council in seventy years, there was near-unanimous agreement to induct you.”
Amber waited. Such a speech could only be leading up to a counterpoint.
The Archmagus leaned back in his chair. “That said, near-unanimous is not completely unanimous,” he said with a touch of bitterness. “Ivan was most displeased that his ritual didn’t work.”
To hear the Archmagus of Necromancy talked about in such familiar terms made Amber start, and her eyes darted about to make sure the wards were still well in place.
She opened her mouth to respond, but Archmagus Stephen waved off her words. “We don’t need to talk about that now,” he said. “Whatever happened, happened. And when the rest of the Council and the Admiralty got wind of the potential consequences of what could have happened if his ritual had been successful… Well, let’s just say that he’s not in a position to do any agitating to try again.”
Amber nodded, relieved. The notebooks she had used to prepare the ritual were safely stored, somewhere that even other archmages would have difficulty accessing it. She had been acutely aware of how close she had come to demotion, expulsion, or even death at the hands of the Archmagus of Necromacy. With a little luck, neither he nor anyone else would ever ask for those notebooks again.
Archmagus Stephen stared out the window a moment before resuming the conversation. “I should inform you, in case you didn’t know, that even archmages are subject to occasional divinations and detections. No one is above the law in this - a rogue archmage would pose a remarkable threat to the fleet. If anything, the spells that are used on us are more powerful than the ones we use on the apprentices and the junior officers, commensurate with our increased power and authority.”
He paused a moment to allow Amber to absorb the deeper meaning of his statement. He did not have to pause long. If anyone chose to look, they would immediately realize what she had done. If they saw in her thoughts that she had disobeyed orders and deliberately sabotaged a key ritual, Archmagus Ivan would not need her notebooks to do whatever he wished to her. Her face blanched.
Archmagus Stephan continued conversationally. “I don’t blame you for being less than enthusiastic. It’s unpleasant, and I can’t say that any of us particularly like it. But it’s necessary, so we do it for the good of the fleet.” He waved his hand, as though ‘the good of the fleet’ were a mythical creature that he had heard about often but never seen. “Now, your detailed reports and the memory crystals you sent when you first discovered the rift near the chaos godling will probably be enough to keep your name off the rotation for at least a little while. No one doubts your sincerity in performing your mission.”
He paused and considered this. “There will of course be other missions. I believe Admiral Vash wishes to extend Specialist Tam’s mandate to find us allies among the elves, and no doubt there will be multiple expeditions to attempt to find the uncharted islands we’ve been told exist… somewhere. You’ve proven a capable battlefield mage, Amber, and certainly any team would be lucky to have you. I’m sure I could convince the Council to spare you for a year or two to conduct your particularly important work. And in the meantime, things around here might settle down a bit. Certain mishaps might get forgotten in the face of new priorities.”
He couldn’t have been more clear if he had actually told her outright to spend some time away from the fleet and the necromancers. Amber cleared her throat. “I’ll certainly consider my options.”
The Archmagus nodded, satisfied that he’d delivered his message. “Good,” he said. “In the end, though, I mostly came to congratulate you. No matter what anyone says, your promotion wasn’t a political move or a quid pro quod or based on anything other than merit. You deserve your seat, and I’m happy to have you with me.”
Amber allowed herself to feel the flush of accomplishment. “Thank you, sir.”
The Archmagus smiled with his eyes. “Amber, you’re an Archmage of the Council. When we’re in private, you can call me Stephen.”
“Of course.”
“Well,” said the Archmagus, rising from his chair, “I suppose I’ll let you get back to your preparations. I wouldn’t want to keep you too long.” He spared a glance to the hourglass on Amber’s desk. “I’ll see you in nine and a half minutes.”
Amber stood and saluted. “General.”
The Archmagus returned her salute. “Major.”
With a nod, he turned toward the door, which opened at his approach and closed after he passed through.
Amber turned back to the mirror and smoothed her uniform. From outside the window, the sounds of celebration still echoed. And in nine and a quarter minutes, she would take her place among the high officers whose mandate was to plan the next step for humanity.