A warm evening breeze sighed through the courtyard, bringing with it the smell of warm, delicious sweets baking in the ovens. Sophie tried not to wipe her palms on her skirt as she knelt on the soft, woven rug her father had laid out for her. She was nervous and found it hard to sit still as the man in black robes settled across from her on a rug of his own. Although she was only seven, she could tell just by looking that his robes were finely made, even if she didn’t know what they were made of. The dress she wore was of the same material. She was only allowed to wear it when special guests were visiting.
Sophie knew that the man was here because of her, because she’d done something very strange a few weeks ago. She’d been playing with her younger brother on a day like this one, a hot, humid day in the late spring. She and Aluemos were playing in the fountain near the garden to try and fend off the heat. Papa let her splash around in the fountains as long as they didn’t have any visitors. Otherwise, she had to act like a lady.
She had waded into the water, soaking the bottom of her dress, and climbed up the pair of marble fish that were the centerpiece of the fountain. Water flowed out of the open mouths of the twin fish and glittered in the sunshine as it fell into the pool. Sophie reached out her hand in an attempt to catch the sunlight. She knew it was impossible, but she loved the way the water sparkled through her fingers like liquid gold. With her short arms, she couldn’t quite reach the cool water and stretched her hand out as far as it would go. She bit her tongue and scrunched up her face as she reached for the sparkling liquid. If only it would come to me!
As soon as she’d thought the words, the water had slowed its descent and started drifting toward her, floating in little rivulets in midair.
Sophie had shrieked in delight. “Ali! Look!” The boy looked up from his splashing and laughed, pointing at the floating water. When she raised her hand, the water had followed her movements, swaying this way and that. Her brother clapped, and they giggled as the water fell into the pool and began to flow from the fish’s mouth once again.
Grandfather had been walking in the garden, as he often did in the afternoons, and had seen what she’d done.
Now, the man in black robes was here to talk to her. Sophie didn’t quite know what to make of him. She’d heard her parents arguing about it the night before. Hiding by the door, she hadn’t been able to make out what they were saying, but Mama had been crying.
“Comfortable?” the man in black robes asked. He’d introduced himself before dinner. What had his name been? Iseul, she thought. What a weird name. He’d asked her questions as they ate. How old was she? What did she like? Did she know anyone who could use magic? Did she know what a wizard was?
What a stupid question. Of course she knew about the wizards of Zo’rahn.
The wizards were the ones who ruled in Zo’rahn, the country where she lived. Everyone who could use magic was what Papa called the nobility in Zo’rahn. She had learned from her tutor that the country was broken up into provinces, each ruled by a Vizier, with smaller areas managed by a Vasalii. Her family lived on Vasalii Erol’s lands. Well, Papa said the grounds were technically theirs, but that her grandfather paid a levy, whatever that was, to the Vasalii. She had met a wizard only once before, a tall man who had come to buy something from her grandfather.
Papa explained to her once that he and Grandfather were merchants, people who bought things far away and brought them back to Zo’rahn to sell for a better price. That’s why their house was so big and how he could give Mama nice things. The wizards liked nice things, too, so they would come and buy things from them.
Iseul had also asked about her hair. Everyone always asked about her hair.
Remembering that the man expected a response, she ducked her eyes in embarrassment for her daydreaming and nodded.
Iseul chuckled. “Don’t be afraid, little one. This won’t take long.” He reached into his robes and pulled out a stick, a silver box, and a piece of parchment and set them between their mats. Iseul was a tall man, older and fatter than Papa, but not as old as her grandfather. He had the typical Zo’rahni coal-black hair and olive skin. He also had a neatly trimmed goatee and smiled at her whenever he caught her eye. He seemed like a nice man.
Sophie looked at the items, then up at him quizzically.
He smiled again and gestured at them. “Pick one. Then we can start.”
Looking at the three objects sitting between their mats, Sophie’s eye was drawn to the silver box. It was perfectly square, the lantern light gleaming off an intricately inlaid design on its surface. She stared at it for a moment, then tore her eyes away from it. It was beautiful compared to the other items, but Grandfather had said that Iseul was going to test her. Was this part of it? Did he expect her to choose the box first? Was it a trick?
She reached out, but at the last moment decided to pick up the stick instead of going for the box. It seemed like a less obvious choice, and she didn’t want to fail the test within the first few minutes. When she looked up at him, Iseul nodded at her and gestured for her to continue.
Settling back on her mat, Sophie brought the stick closer, examining its length. It was smooth and slender, sloping down to a point at one end. There were carvings in the dark wood, symbols she didn’t recognize. Running her thumb over the carvings, she asked, “What do these mean?”
“They are called runes,” Iseul began in a soft and patient tone, sounding much like her tutor when explaining how something worked. “And that is called a wand. Each rune carved on that wand represents a different type of energy. Energies weave together in different and complex ways to create the spells that wizards and other magic users cast, whether they are implementing runes such as these to guide them, or casting from their power within. By carving runes on an object such as this, a wizard can press some of their power into it to create a tool that can be used by anyone with the gift, assuming they can figure out how to use it.”
Sophie’s eyes were wide as she stared at Iseul. She had never heard magic explained in such a way. “What does it do?” she asked, voice quiet.
“That is for you to figure out,” he said with a sly grin. “I can’t just give you the answers.”
Right. This was a test. Sophie looked back down at the wand and frowned. She rolled it between her fingers, carefully studying each rune. One rune near the base of the wand looked familiar to her and she bent closer to examine it. It seemed a little like the symbol for fire that she’d been forced to memorize in lessons. An image of a dimly glowing flame appeared in her mind, flickering softly like that of a candle, or the lanterns placed around them.
The tip of the wand abruptly sparked, making Sophie jump. She yelped and dropped it, as if it were a snake about to strike, losing her balance and falling back onto her bottom.
She picked herself back up a moment later, her cheeks hot, and tucked a few loose strands of hair that escaped her bun back behind her ear. She eyed the wand suspiciously, but it had ceased whatever it had done and just lay where it had fallen on the ground, looking like a stick once again.
Iseul wasn’t smiling anymore. He looked… surprised. Was he upset with her? Was he going to tell her parents she failed the test?
“I-I’m sorry,” she said quickly, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t mean to break your stick.” She glanced back at the wand still lying there innocently.
He blinked at her words and shook his head slowly. “No, you didn’t break it.” He inhaled deeply, and then the smile was back, only now it seemed somehow different from before. “Why don’t we move on? Go ahead and pick another item.”
Sophie reached out and tentatively picked up the silver box, as though it, too, might bite her. If what she thought was a stick was dangerous, then the box must be even more so, even if it was pretty. Now that she could look more closely, she could see that it was inlaid with a delicate floral design curving around the edges, flowing and scrolling over the surface. She followed the pattern with her fingertips. It was so beautiful.
She didn’t see any seams, but tried to pry it open anyway. Her fingers slipped on the cold metal, but it wouldn’t budge. She shook it, but felt nothing within the box. Was it empty? She held it up to her ear and shook it again. It sounded empty.
“What is this one?” she asked.
“It’s a bit different from the last one,” he said smoothly, seeming to expect her questions. “The box will react to your focus and imagination. The very basis of magical practice is the ability to shape what you imagine into reality. If you believe the box should open, and focus that desire on it, it will open. It’s as simple as that. Now, close your eyes.”
“Why?” Somehow, she didn’t believe it was that easy.
His smile fractured by a degree, but he recovered it quickly. “Closing your eyes will help you concentrate, especially since you don’t know how to focus correctly yet,” he said patiently.
Sophie looked back at the box in her hands. She still couldn’t see any way to open it. She stared at the swirling designs and sighed, closing her eyes.
“Good. Focus on the weight of the box in your hands. Picture it in your mind.”
She did as he instructed and she saw the silver box in her mind, much as she had the flickering candle flame had when she’d studied the rune on the wand.
“Can you see it?”
She nodded.
“Now, I want you to focus on the box. Imagine the designs on it, every little detail. Fill in what you can’t picture.”
The image of the silver box in her head gained a little detail, becoming more vibrant as she imagined it. The floral pattern sharpened into focus as she concentrated, trying to remember every line and curve. Sophie imagined the silver twinkling as it had in the lantern light, and she gently ran her fingers over its surface. The replica in her mind’s eye moved and shifted along with the real one in her hands.
“Concentrate on the box,” came Iseul’s calm voice. “How would you open it?”
“I can’t open it,” she mumbled.
“Focus, Sophie. How would you open it, if you could? How do you think it should open?”
She thought of the inlaid floral design on the box. The object in her mind gained even more detail, mirroring what she remembered about the item she still held. She smiled. If she could imagine it opening any way she liked, why couldn’t it bloom like a real flower?
Sophie imagined the sides of the box peeling away layer after layer, shimmering as the metal moved and formed into the shape of petals, flowing away from the box’s center. In her mind, a small butterfly no bigger than her thumbnail rested in the middle of the metallic flower, pale luminescent wings twitching in the slight breeze.
“Is it open?” Iseul asked. His voice sounded far away, a muted quality to it, as if he were in a different room.
“Yes…” The butterfly flicked its wings when she spoke.
“Close it again. Focus on reversing the exact way you opened it.”
She did as he instructed. It took her some time to get the box closed in her mind again, trapping the butterfly inside.
Iseul had her repeat the process three times. Each time, the process was smoother. The box-flower would open slowly and close slowly, folding its petals back in on itself and enclosing the insect within.
“Once more,” he began again, “but this time, I want you to push the image away from you, down your arms, and into the box in your hands. Make it bend to your will.”
She wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about. How could she make the box do what she wanted? Still, she tried to do as Iseul said, focusing on making the object in her hands into what she saw in her head. She opened her eyes and stared at the box still resting in her palms and willed it to open, for it to unfold like the beautiful flower in her mind. It should open, she thought. It was a flower.
She almost jumped off the mat when the designs on the box suddenly started to shift and move. She fumbled the box, almost dropping it on the ground, but barely managed to keep a hold of it.
It started blooming exactly as she had visualized. The sides fell away, and the top of the object curved and writhed into the shape of a bud, even as silvery petals pulled away from the center. Sophie’s eyes widened as she watched the box transform into the silver flower she’d imagined. Even absent the butterfly, it was amazing to watch. Was this magic?
“Interesting,” Iseul murmured.
“How did it do that?” Sophie whispered, examining the silver flower closely.
“You did that. The box is just a tool. Using magic means shaping the world around you, bending it to your needs, and using your ability to create your own reality.” He waved his hand over the flower and it shuddered, the petals beginning to fold back in. Within seconds, it had returned to its original, cube-like state.
She looked up at him incredulously, her fingers tight around the box. “Does that mean I used magic?”
“In the most basic sense, yes. You exerted your will on the box, and it changed shape to your wishes. You made that flower bloom.” He chuckled to himself. “Most just imagine the lid opening.”
“Oh,” she said. Did she do it wrong? Was she failing the test? “Do I need to imagine it doing that then?”
Iseul shook his head. “No. What you did was just fine.” He looked down at the parchment. “There is one more item left. I don’t think it’s necessary, given what you’ve already done, but I would like to see what you can do.”
What she could do? She didn’t feel like she was doing anything. She was just imagining things. What she did feel was tired, like she had been outside playing for hours. Sophie stifled a yawn and looked down at the parchment. It looked like the same writing paper she had used dozens of times to practice her scripts. She picked it up and unfolded it. It was blank.
Sophie glanced up at Iseul, but he made no indication of noticing the issue. She turned the paper over and held it up to the lamplight, but still couldn’t see anything on it. It seemed like just a regular sheet of paper. But that didn’t make sense. It had to be special in some way, just like the other items were.
After the relative ease of using the previous items, she spent what felt like forever trying to get the paper to do something. She tried rubbing her hands over it, folding it in different ways, even closing her eyes and imagining it folding into different shapes. Nothing seemed to work. She asked Iseul what it did, but he was not forthcoming, merely smiling and telling her to keep trying. Perhaps it really was just a regular piece of paper. She flicked it away from her in frustration, and it drifted to the ground. Iseul still said nothing.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at the parchment sourly.
Iseul smiled apologetically. “Unfortunately, I’m not able to help you with this one. It is something you have to figure out on your own.”
“Does it even do anything?” she growled.
“Yes,” he admitted, “it does,” and said nothing further.
Sophie scowled down at the parchment. It had fallen not far from where she had dropped the wand. She was overcome with the irrational urge to set the paper on fire and snatched up the wand, thought of fire, and smacked the tip on the parchment.
The wand sparked as it had before, but instead of catching on fire, the paper began glowing softly. Writing appeared across the sheet. She couldn’t read very well yet, but still picked up the paper and held it up in awe, the wand cast aside and forgotten. The script was delicate and flowed from one line to the next, as if she was watching an invisible hand write it. The symbols were strange to her, but the words glided together seamlessly.
Eventually, the glow faded and went out as the writing reached the end of the page.
“What does it say?” she asked, her frustration with the paper forgotten.
“It’s the first page of the first chapter from Theorems on Ritual Magic.” He pulled the parchment out of her hand and looked it over, then glanced at her, his eyebrows raised. “You have successfully activated all three items. We’re finished here.”
She grinned and felt her chest swell. That must mean she passed the test. Papa was going to be so happy with her.
Iseul looked at her thoughtfully for a few moments. “Fetch your parents, child. I need to speak to them.”
Sophie nodded and stood. Her legs felt a little numb after kneeling for so long, and she stumbled before catching her balance. She turned from Iseul and sprinted across the courtyard, up the stairs, and to the front door, pulling it open. “Papa! Papa!” she called as she raced into the foyer. “I’m finished!”
A tall, lanky man with graying hair and an angular face stood by the stairs. He turned to frown at her as she ran inside. He’d been speaking quietly with another man, also tall, and with similar features, but with hair as dark as the night sky. Both men wore long-sleeved, belted shoen, a formal tunic, the older man’s with gold and red embroidery and the younger’s with blue and silver. The long garments went to their knees, and they both wore cream-colored trousers under the shoen, with sandals to match.
Sophie skidded to a halt in front of them and bowed, out of breath. “Grandfather. Father.”
Papa looked concerned but smiled when he saw her. Grandfather, however, wore the same expression he always did when he looked at her, like he’d eaten a sour grape.
“I’ve completed the test,” she said much more calmly. Grandfather hated when she spoke casually in front of him, and she didn’t want to get Papa into trouble. “Iseul wishes to speak with you, Father.” She looked up at him. “Where is Mother?”
He glanced at her grandfather briefly, and for a reason she couldn’t fathom, his expression deepened from concern to worry. “Your mother was not feeling well. She is resting.” Before Sophie could ask what was wrong, her father shook his head and said, “She’ll be fine.” He held out his hand to her and smiled again, but it seemed forced. “Was the test difficult?” he asked gently.
She skipped forward and took his outstretched hand, ignoring the look her grandfather was giving them. Her hand could only hold three of her father’s fingers. She shrugged, trying not to let her nervousness show under her grandfather’s critical gaze. “No, not really. But it was weird. The things he has are odd.”
He frowned slightly, and it was difficult to tell what he was thinking. Was he mad at her? “Come,” he began, leading Sophie back to the front door, her grandfather following close behind. “Let us see what the wizard wants.”
* * *
By the time he had finished administering the test, the sun had dipped below the horizon and a chill was settling into the late-summer air. Iseul scratched his goatee thoughtfully, still looking down at the three items laid out in front of him. The child had managed to activate all of them without too much prompting from him. While that wasn’t unheard of, it was exceptionally rare in one so young. Typically, a child’s magic did not manifest until their twelfth year, right at the start of adolescence. As far as he knew, a situation such as this had not happened with a child outside of the magical families for at least a century, maybe longer. She had the potential to be a powerful wizard one day, with the proper training.
Zo’rahn was divided into seven provinces, and the lands inside those borders into seven different territories. While Vasalii Erol ruled this territory, the lands inside the province were controlled by Vizier Lau’ren Tashiir. Seven Viziers made up the Ruling Council of Zo’rahn, and all of the regions within a province owed their allegiance to a Vizier. Iseul was part of Vizier Lau’ren’s household and, as such, was required to offer the girl’s adoption to the Vizier first.
Iseul hoped that the Vizier would overlook the child’s mixed blood and take her into his household. The mother was obviously a foreigner, probably from a country on the continent to the west, Morigael or Tanalin, judging by her accent. The girl had inherited her mother’s physical features, most notably the vibrant red hair and stormy gray eyes.
Yes… Iseul thought, I think I can convince the Vizier to take her.
Iseul picked up the testing items and put them into an inner pocket of his robes, then stood as the door to the main house opened. Sophie walked back outside, her tiny hand holding onto her father’s, the grandfather, Fahren, trailing behind them.
He’d almost waited until next season to come and investigate the claim filed by Fahren, the patriarch of the Karr merchant family. His records indicated that the Karr family had not produced a magically gifted child in the past, and he’d been busy with other testing requests this season. The detour had proven well worth the trip.
The two men approached him and bowed deeply, but the mother was nowhere to be seen. Just as well, he thought. She’d seemed hostile around him and must not have grasped who he was and the importance of his visit. He was surprised that someone of such low birth, never mind a foreigner, would have been allowed to marry into a prominent merchant family like the Karrs. By her mannerisms, she had not been of high station in her homeland, nor had the marriage added to the family’s reputation or wealth. Such an action by the son and heir must have been quite an insult to older members of the family.
“Alheim, Nadil,” he said, greeting the girl’s father by name. “The testing is complete, and I am pleased with the results. Your offspring will bring you great honor.”
Nadil bowed again, less deeply than before. “Thank you, Wizard.” He straightened and patted his daughter’s head affectionately. “My child bestows much joy on her mother and me. We are very proud that she can bring further honor to our family.”
“Do you understand what comes next?” Iseul asked.
The young merchant looked troubled but nodded. Every Zo’rahni child was tested at some point in their life. No doubt Nadil was remembering his own experience. “I know what would happen if she were older,” he said as he looked down at his daughter. “But she’s only seven. Surely, she’s still too young…” Nadil hugged his daughter a little closer to him as he spoke, and Iseul could hear the desperation in his voice.
Iseul pursed his lips. He had witnessed countless reactions over the years from parents of children who were chosen for the adoption process. Most were delighted when their child was chosen, but there had been trouble in the past as well.
The girl clung to her father’s hand and watched him with her large eyes. Iseul had a sinking feeling in his stomach that this was not going to be an easy acquisition.
“I need to send a few messages to the Vizier before the negotiations can begin. Would it be intrusive to ask for lodging for myself and my entourage until the proper arrangements are made?”
Nadil opened his mouth to answer, but Fahren spoke over him. “It would be our pleasure to see to your needs,” he said, bowing politely once more. “You and your retinue are welcome in our home as long as it pleases you.”
“Excellent. I will need some privacy to conduct my business then.”
After a few brief pleasantries, he left the company of his host, and a servant took him to a suite of rooms in the east hall with a common area, study, and sleeping quarters. The rooms were richly furnished with items that he recognized as Omeran in design with their almost-white-colored wood and silk tapestries of red and gold from Alkhazai. The dark-eyed woman bowed to him and left.
Iseul sighed and stretched. He was tired from the day’s travel, but there was still much work to do before he could rest for the night. He needed to send a message to the Vizier and inform him of his delayed return. It was possible that the negotiations could continue for up to four full days, at which point law dictated an agreement must be reached. Iseul fished a slender stone tablet with a wax face out of his robes and set it on the table in the study. Then he took off his robe of office and hung it on a hook. His formal duties were completed for the day, and though he still had work to do, his dark-green tunic and black breeches would suffice.
A light knock at the outer door echoed throughout the chamber.
“Enter,” he commanded, searching through the inner pockets of his robe, his back to the door.
The door opened and closed with a soft click. He looked over his shoulder at a young woman with dark hair cut at shoulder length, wearing violet-dyed robes. The young woman was Mari, his apprentice. She bowed to him. “Master,” she said politely. “I am assuming by our lodgings that the child shows talent.”
“That is an accurate assessment,” he said, turning back to the robes and finally finding what he was searching for, a slender stylus that was a companion to the tablet. Iseul motioned for her to follow him into the study. “The child successfully activated all of the test items.” Mari’s brows rose at that. “Contact the Vizier and inform him of the child’s potential and of her… unique heritage.” He set the stylus on the table next to the tablet.
If Mari had any thoughts about that last part of the message, she gave no sign. Mari dipped her head in a shallow, but respectful bow and sat at the small writing table. She dutifully began carving Iseul’s message into the wax. As Mari scribed the message, the letters began to sink into the wax and disappear.