Chapter 4 - A Testing Time
“The Empire’s Adepts and Mages produce a myriad of wondrous substances to better the lives of its subjects. From simple things like strength or healing, to more complex and esoteric benefits, the skill of the Empire’s magic users brings happiness, prosperity and safety to all.”
Two Thousand Years of Empire by Jahangir Amini
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With a sigh Ester cast her eye over the strongroom that had been commandeered to hold the various drugs discovered on the Driftwood Wanderer. They’d been left on a wooden table for her, a stack of ornately carved wooden containers full of Throne knew what. They seemed far too finely made to simply be smuggling boxes for some degenerate noble, but what did she know about such things? She tamped down on the irritation that flared up at the thought.
She hadn’t been allowed to have a look at Caille’s work before coming here, although it had been worded more politely. Another bloody test she supposed, it was more than frustrating. Well she’d show them. She hadn’t exactly had the best start to her time in Vass Karan, but analysing some potions or powders? She could do that with her eyes shut.
Right, on to the first one. Ester took a calming breath and surveyed the table. Paper, ink pot and pen were all in their proper place, she had space to work. Time to begin.
First she took a sheet of paper. She lacked a proper analytics set-up here. Of course she did, but that didn’t matter. Something in metal would have been nice, but flexibility was half the difference between a proper Mage and an Adept.
She laid the paper out on the table and with a quick dip into the inkpot she started to write. One by one, she scratched the runes out in a neat circle around the paper, each representing a single Word. Dechlaid… Indaitlu... Fa’gränn... Ten in total.
She gave the ink a few moments to dry and then focused on the runes. With a slight effort of will she pulled the magic from within her, quickly feeding tiny amounts into each rune, careful not to overwhelm them. As she did so they flared with green light, one by one, burning the ink into the paper.
The Schema came together perfectly, just as she’d expected it to. She couldn’t help the moment of pride she felt. She’d have to repeat it again each time though. Paper was hardly a resilient material and she didn’t want to start carving up the table without permission. Not that it would last much longer anyway.
With her Schema ready, Ester focused her attention on the boxes, giving them a quick once over. The fact that Caille had been able to go through them without any apparent ill effects suggested that there was nothing dangerous. She shook her head. She wasn’t foolish enough to bet her life on that. Especially not after the series of unpleasant surprises she’d had since leaving Trevayn.
As expected, there was no sign of any magic on them, just the faint feel of their contents hovering at the edge of perception. Safety precautions satisfied, Ester opened the first box, careful not to touch its contents. Inside she found a glittering, grey powder, which sparkled even in the dim light of the lamp she’d brought with her. She could make her own, better light of course, but holding it in existence would be distracting.
First she turned her gaze on the powder, focusing her eyes beyond mere reality. The world faded away around her and she could see the strands of magic twisting in it, almost taste them. This would do something with emotions, she could tell that straight away. Obviously that wasn’t enough though, she’d been asked to investigate these drugs properly, not just give them a quick look.
Ester took a wooden spatula and carefully dipped it into the powder before bringing it to her face, ensuring that she didn’t touch the substance. After a moment she nodded. The colour and size of the grains were suggestive too and the unnatural iridescence leant into silver. It was good quality, but she’d seen better. The powder had a certain amount of leakage and she suspected that it would give anyone who took it a nasty headache the next day. Sloppy manufacturing perhaps? Despite her distaste for the substance she still pulled a face at the poor workmanship.
With her initial observations complete, Ester sprinkled a small measure of the powder onto the sheet of paper. Perhaps Shariarti’s Breakdown would be best for this? It would work well with the Schema she’d laid out.
Ester muttered the words under her breath and light flashed over the paper. The runes flared, briefly bathing the room in eerie green light, before vanishing into thin, greasy smoke, but she kept her attention on the powder, feeling the faint drain on her magic.
The glittering dust shifted and then flattened out into a circle in the untouched centre of the paper. Colours drifted up from it, runes circling around them. Without relaxing her focus, Ester dipped her pen in the ink and started to write.
Some of it was difficult to interpret, but she could recognise enough. Guess at the rest. Quite a few ingredients, midnight honey, dragonfruit elixir, bone from a sparrow, the list went on and she noted them all down.
Each strand of colour and its accompanying runes gave Ester a bit more information. Combined with her own education it was trivial. She even thought, with just a hint of smugness, that she could make a fairly good guess at the exact Schema that had been applied to the ingredients. If she was reading the signs right anyway. Or perhaps it had been a spell rather than a Schema? How much of this stuff would they have wanted to make? Would they have had the money to put the Schema on gold or even silver? She supposed in the end it didn’t really matter exactly how they’d made it, the results were the same.
Regardless, it was quite easy to work out what the powder was meant to do. Eating it in any quantity would likely make someone feel nauseous, but inhaling it would cause huge waves of euphoria. A little sniff of it would leave someone feeling as good as they ever had for perhaps fifteen minutes.
She couldn’t help but imagine a party full of opulently dressed, overfed nobles, all lying there in blissful ecstasy. Occasionally moving to sniff a little more powder before retreating to their daybeds. Perhaps it was relatively harmless like Commander Savate had said, but it still distasteful.
Still, Ester looked at the spirals of colour and runes, there might be something more to it. She narrowed her eyes. There was definitely something more subtle in there. Impulse control maybe?
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It took Ester some hours to finish up with the last of the drugs. She straightened up, feeling a nervous energy flowing through her. She’d expected to be exhausted after so long concentrating, but actually it had been invigorating. Perhaps it was just that she’d been able to spend time doing something that was both interesting and safe.
After gathering up her burnt sheets of paper she glanced over her notes one last time, enjoying the satisfied feeling of a job well done. Neat handwriting set out the purpose of each drug and exactly what it would do to its user, including any side effects. Under each of those she’d written out the ingredients, where they could be found and a recommendation for its disposal. Some might actually be useful, for example euphoria could make for a decent anaesthetic. Others she thought should just be burnt.
She’d been tempted to also list the sources for her conclusions. In fact she’d gone as far as dipping her pen in the inkpot, but at the last moment she’d decided not to. She doubted Commander Savate would be interested in knowing which books she’d read or which Schema and spell combination she’d used.
Still… Ester gathered up the notes with more than a hint of pride, he really wouldn’t be able to complain about what she had produced. Other than the sources, she was quite sure it would have earnt her a nod of approval from even the strictest Professor in the Academy.
Now she just needed to find the old Adept, Caille, and pass her report on to him.
As she headed out she couldn’t help but think back to what she’d found. Whoever it was that had been planning to buy these drugs truly was degenerate though. The more innocent drugs had been decadent enough, but the subtle effects she’d spotted in some of them made her shudder to think of the kind of parties they might be used at. Or were they just intended to be used as poisons? Perhaps she could ask the Commander.
Then there’d been the one she couldn’t quite work out, a scowl flashed across her face at the thought. Not what it did, that was no problem, but the why of it. Most of the drugs fitted with what she imagined would be some kind of degenerate pleasure party, not that she had much to go on there of course. However, the odd one out had had the effect of making blood flow better and increasing stamina. She’d been quite pleased to be able to work that one out, it hadn’t been easy. It seemed like something that would be more useful for running a race than partying though.
Ester shrugged, it hardly mattered.
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The next day Ester found herself out in Vass Karan’s cold drizzle once again, although at least during the day rather than at night. The Commander had been insistent that she keep on doing training patrols and so she’d spent another tedious day following inordinately deferential Watchmen around. Still, at least no one had attacked them this time.
She’d been meaning to go to the tailor that the Commander had recommended straight after completing her analysis of the drugs, but that had ended up taking longer than she’d expected. So that meant waiting for the next day. She knew that if she wanted a half decent chance of actually having a dress ready before the Velia Soirée she needed to go to there as soon as she possibly could.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
That was why, rather than follow the Watchmen all the way back to the Watch headquarters, she’d asked them to go by Cutlis’ establishment and drop her off there.
As the two men hurried away after polite bows, probably glad to be away from her, Ester forced her face into smoothness and clamped down hard on her irritation.
She already knew this was going to be painful. She was dressed horrendously and probably looked like a bedraggled dog in the rain. Still. Mages could wear whatever they wanted.
Ester took a calming breath and reached out to the hammer on the ornately carved, black, wooden door. The Commander had spoken. Nothing could possibly go wrong, she thought wryly.
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Stenia had been having a most trying day. Master Cutlis had been in something of a foul mood. A liaison gone wrong the night before or something similar, all very typical of him, and she had already had to deal with a highly impolite customer this afternoon. The upjumped merchant’s wife had simply not understood the way things were done among people of class.
So, when she heard the banging on the door she was less than delighted. Nevertheless, an establishment like Master Cutlis’ had standards to uphold and so she composed herself, schooling her face into a polite smile, before preparing to welcome another honoured customer.
When she opened the door she had to restrain herself from an undignified display of surprise. Of all the things she had been expecting, it was not a damp looking girl wearing men’s clothing. Men’s clothing of a very poor quality too. The girl could have been pretty if she had not looked like something the cat drag… It did not matter.
“The servant’s entrance is at the back… good woman.” Stenia made to close the door, pausing only at the girl’s desperate shout.
“Wait! Please, I can explain. I need to speak to Master Cutlis about an urgent commission!” Ridiculous. Stenia doubted the girl had more than a few pennies to her name. Just speaking to her was an embarrassment. Master Cutlis had a man for that sort of thing. She was about to close the door when a horrible thought occurred to her. The girl was not one of Master Cutlis’ liaisons was she? Stenia had thought he had better taste than that.
“Master Cutlis is a busy man. Please leave.” Whatever the girl’s relationship with her employer, Stenia certainly had no intention of continuing the conversation. With a decisive movement she swung the door shut.
“No you do not…” The girl jammed her foot into the gap between the door and frame just as it closed. Outrageous! Stenia could see the uncouth trollop wince from the pain. Most deserved too, behaving like that! No wonder she thought it was acceptable to run around in men’s clothing where everyone could see. “Tell him,” the girl gasped, “tell Master Cutlis that Ester Mazar, Chartered Mage, wishes to see him.”
What had been tedious was now becoming offensive. This was simply intolerable, did the girl think that Stenia was a complete fool? Certainly the girl was foolish to make a claim like that. “Remove your foot immediately girl or I shall be calling for the guards!”
The girl did not withdraw her foot and Stenia was about to raise her voice to call for help, when the door shoved back into her with inexorable force. The girl had not moved, but something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
An eldritch green glow sprung up, wavering around the girl in sickly swirls that made her nauseous just looking at them. The very fabric of the world seemed to bend, the walls distorting around them. Stenia’s stomach churned as direction seemed to reverse, twist and pull at her.
She could not stifle the small shriek of fear, nor prevent the instinctive step back that she took. The girl followed, suddenly filling the airy lobby. She loomed impossibly into the distance and yet was far too close to Stenia. Rippling distortions ran over her skin in maddening patterns, twisting her into perverse facsimiles of her form before snapping back to a vague approximation of humanity.
The girl, the monstrosity, spoke. Every word echoed through Stenia’s skull, hammering at its sides, trying to burst forth. “I really am sorry to have to do this, I know I am not dressed the way you would expect, but I really am a Chartered Mage and somewhat pressed for time. If it is at all possible I very much would like to see Master Cutlis.” Mid-sentence normality reasserted itself. Echoing words carrying meanings she could never understand were suddenly replaced by an apologetic girl’s voice as the world snapped back into place. Instead of… whatever that had been, there was just a slip of a girl tapping her foot in irritation as she stood there in cheap, over-sized men’s clothes, damp hair clinging to her scalp.
For the first time in many years it took Stenia a moment to gather herself. Nevertheless, she prided herself on the service that Master Cutlis’ establishment provided and there was only one possible response to the girl’s display. She dropped into a low curtsy.
“My apologies Lady Mazar, please come in, I had not realised with the way you were… Not that I should presume to tell you what to… You must understand we are not used to the patronage of someone such as your…” She took a deep a breath and rose from her curtsy, fleeing to the familiar territory of politeness. “Please, make yourself comfortable, refreshments will be brought and I shall inform Master Cutlis of your presence at once.”
As the Mage settled indelicately onto a chair with a faint look of relief Stenia hurried off, her mind whirling. She was going to have to have the cushions cleaned of course, but such was life. Mages could be eccentric, everyone knew that. If the Mage wanted to dress like a manual labourer then that was certainly her prerogative. Perhaps this would be good for Master Cutlis’ business. A Mage was certainly a step above the lower nobility and wealthy merchants that made up his normal clientele. Well as long as she did not want him to make some perverse imitation of an army uniform or something equally ridiculous anyway.
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As the obnoxious woman bustled away in a flurry of affronted terror Ester let out the breath she’d been holding and forced her hands to unclench. She shouldn’t have lost her temper like that. She was forced to admit that the woman had had a point in disbelieving her. It wasn’t her fault! But it was true that she wasn’t dressed like a respectable man, let alone a respectable woman. Still, she was more than fed up with people seeming to only have two ways of speaking to her. Contempt, mild or otherwise, or exaggerated deference.
Irritation warred with sadness inside her. She missed talking to people like a normal person. At least at the academy she’d had a few friends. And most people talked to Apprentice Ester Mazar, not to a terrifying Chartered Mage or a girl who didn’t know her place.
A maid hurried out with a plate of biscuits and laid them on the small table beside Ester’s chair.
“Thank y…” Before she could finish the maid had already fled.
As she munched on an admittedly very tasty biscuit, Ester found herself missing the Academy even more. Not for the first time since she’d come to Vass Karan either. They’d been hard years there, but at least she’d felt like she had a place. It was probably her own stupid fault she’d been sent here. She shouldn’t have gone on about wanting to go on adventures. If she’d behaved like a proper lady, focused on the things she was meant to, maybe she could have stayed there. She’d have enjoyed teaching first years. Probably. Maybe.
Not that she’d have been allowed near them if anyone in the Academy had seen the display she’d just put on. She winced at the thought. That would have had her caned and then set to punishment duties for a month for such sloppy casting. She had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder for an angry Professor. Or even just anyone who knew anything about magic. If another Chartered Mage had seen that, she’d never hear the end of it. Still, she allowed herself a small smile, she’d been right about what would happen if she did it deliberately.
Ester’s musings were interrupted by the door swinging open. A large man, as wide as he was tall, with greying hair slicked back to his scalp, bustled in. His face was red with worry, ruddy cheeks glistening with sweat and as soon as he saw her he swept into an elaborate bow.
“Lady Mazar, you do me great honour with your visit, my sincerest apologies that I was not here to greet you on your arrival, what can I…” His rich, deep voice faded as he really looked at Ester. His eyes flicked over her and then went back to her feet, moving up more slowly. “By the Throne, this will not do. No, no no. This will not do at all. Stand up, let me take a proper look at you. Mmmm. Yes. I see why you came to me. Stenia, clear my diary. Lady Mazar come with me, we must get to work immediately. Your chaperone? No foolish of me, of course you do not need one. Come, come!”
He was moving, leading the way even as he spoke and with slightly shocked amusement Ester found herself trailing behind before she’d even thought about it. There was certainly no exaggerated deference there. Not once he’d seen what she was wearing. It was kind of refreshing.
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“So, what did you think of her report?” Velthur Savate sat back in his chair and started to flick through the sheaf of papers Caille had handed him.
“It was… thorough.” The older man looked down, clearly a little uncomfortable. Savate didn’t reply, instead letting the silence stretch until Caille continued talking, just to fill it. “She has included a breakdown of every substance in great depth and,” he grimaced, “identified several things that I did not.”
“And you trust her judgment on that?” Caille might only be an Adept, but he’d spent decades serving House Rutane. In the absence of anyone else, Savate at least knew he was reliable.
“She is a Chartered Mage.” There was a hint of censure in Caille’s voice. That was as far as he’d ever go to challenge anyone. Likely a consequence of being a glorified servant for so long. Well, that was no use to Savate.
“Titles aren’t everything, indulge me.” He kept flicking through the papers. Oh, that was indeed interesting. One of the pleasure enhancers had a bit more to it. Lowering of inhibitions, willingness to follow orders… He resisted the urge to show his disgust on his face. Caille had missed that one.
Caille sighed. “I cannot find any fault in her analysis. I have no idea of her general spellcasting ability, but with no proper equipment she obtained far more detail out of the substances than I could have with a year of trying and a solid gold analysis Schema.”
“I see, so she is competent?” Caille nodded. “Thank you for your help. I’ll arrange for payment in the usual way, do enjoy your evening.”
As Caille got up and bowed Savate turned his attention back to the report and kept reading. He flicked to the next page. An energy potion, but again with a nasty little something laced in it to increase the user’s suggestibility. With Caille gone he could allow his lips to turn down in small show of displeasure. Subtle little barbs in some of these drugs, he could entirely imagine how they’d be used. Pushing people into acts they’d never agree to if they were in their right mind, but just subtle enough that they might not even realise what had happened afterwards.
Or perhaps it was all innocent, just meant to add to the party. That’s what the owners would no doubt claim, if he could find them.
Either way, Caille had missed those little add ons. Not totally surprising, he supposed. He trusted Caille, but an Adept was an Adept and a competent Mage was an entirely different kettle of fish.
He turned to the next page. Like the others it was covered in carefully organised, neat handwriting. This really was excessive. He didn’t need to have a full breakdown of ingredients and their likely provenance. Still, excessive as young Ester’s report might be, it was also something of a relief.
She might be so fresh out of the Academy that he half expected her to call him Professor, but at least it seemed they hadn’t foisted off an incompetent on him.
He’d certainly been worried. When he’d realised they’d dumped a new graduate on him, and a girl no less, he’d assumed she had enemies and would be marginally competent at best. Her performance with the smugglers hadn’t helped with that. But then that didn’t quite fit with what Caille said. Or the fact that she’d achieved her Charter in only seven years.
Even with the way that every time she opened her mouth she practically shouted ‘commoner trying to compensate’, she should have been snapped up for a position in Trevayn. Perhaps his contacts in the capital had come through for him after all.
He shrugged and turned to the next page, a mystery to solve another day. What was important was that it looked like he would in fact be able to use her. Eventually anyway, it would no doubt take some time to shape her into what he needed. He really would need to make sure to teach her about the importance of brevity too.