Chapter 21: Arcana |
“In an empire as vast as Drakthiss, it is impossible to entirely police magic. There are hedge wizards, secret societies, and foreign mages intruding on us constantly. It is the responsibility of the Inquisitors to manage the threat they pose and keep it from ever becoming something that threatens us.”
High Magus Luther
The blackness gave way to soft orange light and a large open domed atrium. It seemed as if he was standing in a grand ballroom. On the domed ceiling he could see massive murals of powerful figures that appeared familiar to him. Men and women all posed dramatically surrounded by tremendous beasts and fantastic swirls of magic.
Before he could fully take stock of where he was he heard gasps and exclamations. He looked around for their source, finding himself looking downward at a number of very short people, perhaps half his size. As he looked down he realized he didn’t have a body. At least, not his usual one. He was formless, shapeless, with only a vague impression of arms and legs made from black swirling energy confined in a border of bright blue.
He didn’t react to those below him, instead observing coolly and thinking through what he was seeing. He was mana. His physical body wasn’t there with him. The statue had sent his mind and mana somewhere. He looked at the people around him, noticing that all were wearing finery, their faces hidden behind masks as if they were at a masquerade. He could also see them glowing, just as magic objects had been in his vision since he’d gained mana. That meant that, like him, they weren’t actually there, but were a projection of mana.
That meant that he could affect his own form. He began to picture the shape he wanted to be, focusing on it much like he focused when practicing his mental barriers. He felt the mana-form he was begin to shrink down, gaining definition and color as it did so. He was about to let out a long breath, but remembered he didn’t need to breathe. He opened his eyes, finding his vision narrowed by a mask. He didn’t remember making it. He placed a hand on it, feeling its edges and finding a pair of long antlers sprouting from the front of it, the mask itself the shape of a deer’s skull.
He looked around, seeing the disturbed crowd much more closely than he’d been able to a moment ago. They were masked and dressed like nobles. Some wearing the tight fitting suits and silhouettes of the modern era and others in more ornate and lavish finery of the previous age. There were a myriad of different masks, from rabbits, to mocking laughter, to weeping gods, but he noticed four common symbols spread amongst them, usually in the center of each of the mask’s foreheads. They were swords, pentacles, wands, and cups. He looked back up at the domed ceiling, the familiar looking murals now making much more sense. They were images of the major arcana, from a deck of cards.
The group around him was eyeing him warily. Not knowing what to say, he fell back on etiquette, bowing deeply with one hand tucked at his stomach and the other held outward.
“Apologies. I didn’t mean to startle anyone.”
She reached the bottom of the steps and walked up to him, the other attendants bowing their heads respectfully as she walked by them.
“Empress,” he said, bowing again and holding a hand out to her.
She raised an eyebrow and smiled holding out her own hand which he kissed respectfully.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“A surprise guest, and a quick one at that,” she said in a fine high voice that carried easily around the room.
It hadn’t been too difficult to guess at her assumed identity based on the theme, though perhaps she was referring to his forming of his current ‘body’. He felt very light and comfortable in it. His actual body had been filled with discomforts and pains recently, so this was a welcome break. In fact, the mana body he was made up of seemed completely stable. He had no way of being certain why, but he assumed it was because it was separated from his physical form, which had been struggling to adapt to it.
“Your name?” she asked.
He smiled gently, trying to match her attitude, and tapped his mask. “I believe, wherever it is I am, anonymity is preferred.”
Her smile widened slightly. “Good. You’re not a fool.”
“Give me time, my lady, I’m sure I’ll prove that I am.”
She chuckled. “I’m afraid that slot’s filled already.” She looked around at the onlookers. “Return to what you were doing. I will handle this.”
They all bowed respectfully, and began having hushed conversations, gathering in small groups. Many were still watching, but they were doing so subtly.
The Empress returned her attention to him. “You will come with me.”
He nodded, thinking he’d just be following her to another room, but she snapped her fingers and suddenly he found himself sitting at a fine circular table. There were dark purple curtains in a circle all around him and when he attempted to adjust how he was sitting he realized that he couldn’t move. He chose not to struggle, instead focusing on observing his surroundings.
The Empress was directly across from him, and after a few moments two more figures appeared to either side of her. One was a being with the face of a skeleton, a dark brown cloak wrapped around them. The other was two people, their bodies wrapped in an embrace and moving as if making love, but their eyes and expressions shifting as one. Death, and The Lovers, he guessed.
“A new member?” asked Death in a feminine voice. She turned to The Empress, “Why summon us? Judgement normally handles these himself.”
“Because there’s something special about this one,” said The Lovers as they eyed him up and down with hungry eyes.
“Observant as always,” replied the Empress. “He sent quite a lot of mana along with his projection. Enough to be able to harm some of the Lesser Arcana.”
“Who would attack us?” asked Death in a bored tone. “No other society knows of us, the Union has never touched us. Our members are bound to secrecy or else well… I happen.”
“He’s a bit familiar isn’t he. The taste of his mana… like someone mixed the Magician and the Hermit into a cocktail,” said the Lovers.
“I haven’t seen the Hermit in years,” said Death, looking at Solomon more closely through the black voids where eyes should be. “There is a bit of a similarity though. I don’t think he’s anything like The Magician though.”
Solomon stayed silent, absorbing the information they were so casually letting out. Based on how freely they were speaking they were certain of their power. He had the distinct impression that they could kill him easily if they wished.
The Empress turned her attention to him.
“Why did you seek the Arcana?”
He didn’t seek it exactly. He’d been forcibly dragged across his bedroom and wound up within it. He had been seeking knowledge when he’d done that though.
“To learn,” he responded simply.
The Empress smiled widely at that, perhaps more widely than should’ve been possible.
“A good answer. The trade of secrets, materials, and power is the purpose of the Arcana. However, before one can be allowed access, one must prove they can be useful.”
“A test?” asked Solomon, keeping his tone even.
“Exactly. You must provide us with a piece of knowledge. Something forbidden and unknown. Or an object of great power.”
“How will I know what is unknown to you?”
“It doesn’t need to be perfect,” offered The Lovers. “The greater the contribution though, the greater the chance that you’re let in.”
“And if I fail, is she the consequence?” he asked, tilting his head toward Death. He could swear her featureless skull somehow smiled in response.
“Correct.”
“Is there a time limit?” he asked.
“Our next meeting will be in only one week due to the odd phase of the moon. You will be expected… as long as the others concur you’re worthy of the trial.” She glanced to her left and right.
The Lovers nodded emphatically, and Death gave a solemn nod.
“I look forward to seeing what you produce,” said the Empress, her final word sending him back into darkness.
…
Solomon awoke on his bedroom floor. He pushed himself up to his feet, feeling unsteady. The sensation of his headache, tumultuous mana, and sore limbs all hit him as he stood, but he ignored it, pushing his way to his desk. He lit a candle with his lighter and unlocked one of the drawers, pulling out one of his uncle’s ciphered journals as well as a page of attempts he’d made to break the cipher. He sat down and wrote down HERMIT at the top of the page.
