The Magister's Mark

There is a certain saying that all mages who take the Magician’s Exam are given. It is a maxim of religious doctrine often used as a warning:

“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

Upon taking the first stages of the exam, many will foolishly misread this maxim.

The exam was crafted for a special purpose: to test those whose magical abilities come from exposure to magic, rather than being born with the gift. For these mages, whose true proficiency was always in question, a series of trials would be placed before them, in order that the true depth of their knowledge regarding the nature of magic, in all its forms, might be tested.

However, in recent times, these trials were given only after an extensive series of written tests had weeded out those who lacked the academic foundation of magic, seen by many as a prerequisite for facing the trials. As a result, going into the later stages of the exam, the applicants who’d passed the written phase had every right to feel just a touch of hubris. They would soon learn the true weight of their mistake.

The Monastery of the Prophet Naamah sat on a mountain riddled with caves and grottoes. The verdant vines and wild weeds that dressed the crags on its western side were a fitting audience for the sun’s evening show of bright vermilion. Within the monastery’s walls, this final show illuminated the refectory, and the ruby spotlights entering from its windows were a fitting compliment to the gentle candle light. The occupants, 250 in number, skittered around the room like ants, carrying the sumptuous foods left for them to their tables on plates piled high. Wines, clotted creams, sweet cakes, buttered rolls, spiced meats, and thick vegetable stews were all on offer, and the applicants were free to take as much as they pleased.

Kole was one of these applicants. Surrounded by mounds of rich foods and heavy eaters, he was one of only a handful who did not partake in the outpouring of gluttony. A cup of water and a small bowl of stew was all he could dare to eat. While the others at his table nearly choked from gorging themselves, Kole’s discomfort sank to his stomach like heavy stones in a pond; he needed five cups of water to wash down only half of his stew.

Placed at the center of every round-table was a pot of burning incense. The smoke from these was a heavy, lingering mist, drifting sinuously between the heads of the applicants. The sugary sweet scent of the smoke complimented the food so well that many applicants paid it no mind, if they noticed at all. But Kole could not ignore this strange table dressing. Smoke, he thought, did not behave in this way. He was not alone.

“The food is fine, I promise.”

Lucius was a companion Kole had made on the journey to take the exam. His hazel eyes and auburn hair made a striking combination, and since Kole himself rarely caught the same amorous attention, their affect left a twinge of both envy and embarrassment in him. But Lucius’ reassurance about the food was unwarranted.

“I know, but,” Kole rubbed his gurgling belly, “I just can’t eat much of this food. Even the stew is suffocating.”

“I feel you,” said Lucius, pulling up a chair between Kole and another applicant to his right, who did not seem to care for anything but the pile of food on his plate.

“I think a few others feel the same way,” Lucius said, pointing to a few select tables scattered across the room. “Look.”

Like glints of jewels scattered in the face of a stone, there were applicants who were not partaking in the feast. Some rested their heads, where they could find space, others leaned back in their chairs, and more than a few sat on the floor, unable bear even the sight of food in front of them. Kole couldn’t resist the question.

“You think this is part of the exam?” he asked.

“I think so,” spoke a voice approaching from is left.

She was another companion Kole had met on way to the exam, named Umbra. He was certain he’d have failed the written exam if not for her patient teaching on the way to take it. She was taller than both Kole and Lucius, but incredibly bashful, and always pressing back her reddish brown hair.

“I think so too,” replied Lucius, while Umbra found a chair to sit on. “Especially because, well…”

Lucius pointed to the table right behind them. There was only one person sitting, but in front him was no less than six plates stacked high with food. The man’s tunic was covered in pits of pastry and stains of wine and stew. He grabbed five morels at a time, shoved them all in his mouth, and drowned it down with a bottle of wine. There was not single moment where his face was not stuffed.

“Lord of All,” swore Umbra under her breath.

“Yeah, see this?” said Lucius, snapping his fingers in the face of the man eating next to him. There was zero reaction from him. “These guys have nothing but food on their minds. Zoned out completely.”

“So...” Kole pushed his leftover stew and water away from him, “What do we do now?”

“Well we can’t eat,” said Umbra, trying to shift her sightline away from the lone eater behind them.

“Yeah, my brother took this exam. He said this was where the fun begins,” said Lucius, leaning into more relaxed position. “I guess we’ll just have to wait.”

They did not have to wait long. The sound of furious eating and mounds of food made it impossible to know when, but at some point a diminutive robed mage appeared at the head of the refectory. Kole was the first the notice the strange bag held by the figure, with a long pipe leading to their mouth. Placed under their arm, the bag appeared to be breathing along with the mage. But the three companions had little time to wonder what this figure wanted.

“Follow me…”

The voice came out of nowhere. It was a wheezing voice, but like a whisper in the ear.

“If you hear me, come to me, and follow me…”

The figure shuffled to the great wooden door that led from the refectory to the cloistered yard outside.

“Follow me…”

The door opened, and the incense smoke flowed out like a river, carrying the wheezing voice with it. The voice rushed past Kole’s ears along with the smoke.

“If you hear me, follow me…”

The figure walked out into the cloister, while the eaters were none the wiser to any of it. The few who had not eaten seemed to be the only ones who’d heard the voice, and they, along with Kole and his companions, rose to meet the figure outside.

The night was the deep purple prelude to night. The lanterns scattered around the yard grew brighter with each passing moment of dusk. The figure, who was a female mage of small stature, motioned for the remaining applicants to come closer. The door to the refectory was closed. There would be no more joining them. 57 applicants remained.

The woman spoke only after squeezing her bag to fill her chest with air, and she never removed the pipe from her mouth, even when speaking. Without the smoke to carry it, her wheezing voice was barely above a whisper. The applicants huddled around her to listen.

“The next part of your exam,” she said, before filling her chest with air and continuing, “Begins over there.”

She pointed behind her to the mouth of a large cave at the back of the cloister.

“Follow,” she said, and into the cave they went.