First Year (The Black Mage #1)

Cedric released his grip on Piers, and the commander turned to face the four of us that were already present. “Rest up children,” he said. “You might be here all night.”

In the shortest five minutes known to man, the remaining first-years made their appearance. Each one looked worse for wear than the last, and I was sorry to note Winifred among them.

Once the final student arrived, Piers turned to Master Cedric. “Is Ascillia ready?”

One of the assisting mages stepped forward, a short blonde woman with twinkling violet eyes. “I am.” In her hands she held a flask the size of her palm.

Ella gripped my arm. “Whatever happens, don’t let me be one of the four.”

“Alright, children, gather round,” Piers barked.

We came forward, and Master Cedric motioned for us to take a seat in the same circle we had assumed so many times before.

“Is anyone familiar with the basics of hallucinogens?”

Several of us looked around but no one dared to speak.

Ascillia laughed and held her bottle high: “Well, the ones that aren’t will certainly understand after they’ve had a taste of this.” She crossed the grass to the nearest first-year and produced a small tasting cup from her pocket. She poured a little of the solution into the glass and indicated for the girl to swallow. She continued to do the same until each one of us had ingested the vial-tasting draught.

“This potion is a powerful brew from some of our realm’s most vision-inducing plants—mandrake root and nightshade, to be exact. Distortive blends are what I was known for in my apprenticeship.” The woman beamed. “People say my castings enhance them in a way no other Alchemy mage can. You’ll begin to feel its effects after the first couple of minutes.”

Master Cedric took Ascillia’s place in the center of the circle as she stepped to the side. “We administer draughts like these to prisoners of war. They are more effective than traditional methods in questioning. Soldiers are trained to withstand many things, but not a mental assault…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We usually don’t use this type of thing on students as it can induce madness if left untreated for too lo—”

Sir Piers jumped in beside Master Cedric with a grin. “We usually don’t, but good old Barclae has given us the go-ahead since this year’s first-years are more resilient than our usual batch of half-wits.”

Master Cedric cleared his throat. “The dose we gave you should be enough to induce a nightmare state constructed entirely from your own projections. The hallucinations you experience will seem very, very real, and nothing, not even the knowledge that you are dreaming, will stop you from believing their effects. Ascillia has worked her castings so that each of you will have a part of your subconscious reminding you of this fact and asking you to surrender—”

“—And the moment you do, Cedric and I will administer the antidote,” Ascillia interrupted. “Anything you say in the casting is spoken aloud. It’s how we will be able hear your submission.” She smiled toothily. “The first four of you to forfeit will be cured and sent to pack their bags immediately. The rest of you…”

As Ascillia continued to talk I leaned in closer to listen, my head unusually heavy as I strained to catch her words. Her speech was choppy and quiet, a slow murmur punctuated by sharp consonants that hurt my ears.

Moments went by, and my eyes started to itch. Sharp, glistening blades of summer grass became a dull, almost hazy green. The beginning of Ascillia’s casting?

I glanced around the circle and saw similar effects occurring for others. Ella’s pupils were dilated, so much so that they almost encompassed her entire retina. She looked more bug-like than human, and I wondered if it were really her or a vision.

To her left, Alex sat staring intently at nothing, eyes just as wide, and a cold shiver crept down my spine. Everyone else seemed equally disturbed, vacant stares quickly filling the remainder of our circle.

Dark tendrils of smoke enveloped my vision. I was blind.

My hand began to twitch, uncontrollably, and I felt unnaturally slaked for thirst.

Where is everyone?

I was alone. No longer on the field, I now stood in a room I had never seen before. The room was cold as ice. On each side of me, no matter where I turned, were giant, windowless openings.

Just outside, a blood-orange sky was painted with magenta clouds, sitting bright against the harsh emptiness of my room.

A cruel gust of icy wind greeted my bare face.

Shivering, I raised my head to look about the room again. This time there was a long black bench at its center, with three strangers and Master Barclae seated upon it. The strangers wore heavy mage’s robes in the stark colors of Jerar’s three factions of magic.

I hastened to kneel, but my audience was too busy arguing to notice. I couldn’t make out a word.

I leaned in closer, but it was still impossible to hear.

“They are trying to decide if you are good enough.”

I spun around but couldn’t find the speaker.