“So, you travel through the aetherium when you teleport,” Tric comments to Cwuml, as though he uses a different path. “Has one of your order ever been lost in the aetherium, unable to complete their teleportation? Perhaps they simply went missing and were never heard from again? Or they reappeared years later not having aged a day and refusing to discuss what had happened?”
“Oh, I just assumed the aetherium would forcibly eject out anything that didn’t belong,” Heppa says. She looks eagerly to Cwuml for an answer.
“I don’t know of anyone who started a teleportation and did not complete it. Except… maybe…” The mage considers for a moment. “There are some legends that Delfador visited the afterlife through some means. Now, I don’t personally believe that, but if one were to do that, it would have to be through the aetherium.”
Tric nods to himself. He has heard the name Delfador before. It seems to serve the same function among human mages that Kalenz does among elves. I can probably attribute any power to Delfador, he thinks. “Yes, yes, Delfador. It’s been too long since I’ve spoken to him,” Tric says, continuing to play up his supposed ancientness.
Cwuml raises an eyebrow. She supposes it is technically possible that an elf alive today once met Delfador, but it seems highly unlikely. “This all aside, I will allow that there are plenty of other things that could break a mage’s mind beyond just teleporting through the aetherium,” she tells Tric. “On the list of things that could drive a mage mad, teleportation is not high. Extreme isolation…”
“Torture,” Heppa suggests, thinking of Mal M’brin. “Emotional trauma.”
Food deprivation? Sleep deprivation? Corrupted bloodline? Tric’s thoughts are of Kachen, but the only thing he says aloud is, “Necromancy?”
“Well, and the corruption from the aetherium leaking out, too,” Heppa adds. “Or is it more a matter of doing it without remorse? The intoxication of power, doing whatever you wish regardless of the consequences?”
“One does not need to dabble in necromancy to go a little batty,” Cwuml says to Tric. She does not answer Heppa’s questions, interpreting them as rhetorical rather than earnest.
“Or to cause corruption!” Heppa points out. “You yourself mentioned not wanting to leak the aetherium.”
“Now, something I never did quite understand about your human order of mages is how does one join it?” Tric asks, again pretending that he is far more educated on the topic of human magic than he really is. “I understand it’s a somewhat guarded group.” Tric knows nothing about this order, other than that Cwuml has said she is in one, but he has certainly gathered that she is neither a red mage nor a white one.
“Wait, how many orders of human mages are there?” Heppa asks, with no thought at all of concealing her ignorance. There is knowledge to be gained here! Tomas told her that white and red mages were the only ones that mattered. She has since met shadow mages. What else could there be?
“Uh, sorry, on an elvish timescale, they change around so much,” Tric cuts in, not wanting his act ruined. “We can’t keep it straight.”
“Oh, I certainly do not blame an elf for not being aware of silver mages like myself. The white mages and red mages are the noisier of my cousins.” When pressed further by Heppa, Cwuml clarifies that she does not count necromancers or shadow mages as proper orders, or even as distinct from each other.
“So how does one of your folk come to choose the path of the silver mage?” Tric asks, choosing his words carefully so that she does not think he is personally interested in joining.
“Unlike for white mages and red mages, there is no funnel from the doors of Alduin to my order,” Cwuml tells him. That’s a plus! Tric reflects. “Silver mages are misunderstood by some of the run of the mill.” Also good! “We look for other like-minded mages. When we meet a kindred spirit, that can develop into a mentorship, rather than an apprenticeship. In that way, it is quite different from fresh Alduin graduates looking into what red or white mages do. Silver mages aren’t invited to that table.”
“Were you educated at Alduin?” Tric asks.
“Oh yes, certainly,” she replies.
“What is the charter of your order?” Heppa asks. Before the question is all the way out, Cwuml is laughing at the very thought of her order having a charter. “Is it just teleportation? Or do you have other specialties? Other bents?”
“There isn’t a drive to specialize in any way. No, not even among the other orders. Red mages don’t all throw fireballs around; that’s just the flashiest thing mages do, and that name has stuck. Just like with the so-called ‘white’ mages. Flashes of light happen when they do their overly-dramatic magic, thus the name. Now, it is certainly true that white mages tend to embrace the healing arts, but the only reason red mages are associated with fire magic is because the most prominent ones are those staffing armies. Of course they’re throwing fireballs all the time! But there are plenty of red mages who just sit in their towers studying books and magic artifacts.”
Right, like Lady Sabine, Heppa reflects. This is all quite fascinating to hear. She had never made a connection between red mages and fire. In fact, she had wondered why they were called that!
“It’s true that teleportation is a niche magic of silver mages. But that’s because most of the other mages don’t understand that there’s a safe way to do what we do. We silver mages have a better grip on the aetherium and what one can demand of it.” Cwuml shrugs as she adds, “And that makes some other mages uncomfortable. Lots of people—I assume you experience this among elves as well—fear what they do not understand.”
Tric nods in reflection. Mate pokes at him and gets a peanut for his efforts. Tric chews one thoughtfully himself. “Oh, would you like one?” he asks, holding the bag out to Cwuml. Mate squawks in alarm, and Tric urges the bird to share with her. In this way, he introduces the two so that the magpie will be able to find the silver mage again in the future. There may someday come a time when it would be useful to reach her, perhaps when all the current troubles are behind them and Kachen is ready to try something new.
For now, though, there is the matter of getting saurians onto the message rotation. Heppa has a map, Tric has knowledge of a safe place, and Cwuml has magic that can work with both those things. This is an application of scrying, and to perform it, the silver mage uses one of the barrels of ale from the Horse Clan stores. The liquid shimmers and then an image of the swamp appears, an aerial view seldom seen by bipeds such as elves and humans (though quite common to Mate).
“Hmm….” Cwuml murmurs as she examines the magical imprint of the area. A silver mage staff—a broken one—has been used successfully in the hut that Tric has directed her to. But these two elves do not have staffs… so who does? A young human apprentice, perhaps? The question she asks, though, is, “What updates do you want taken to the saurians now that I’m adding them to my cycle?”
“In particular, to be wary of the ghasts’ deadly poison,” Tric says. “If Hezzis’s ambushers swarm them, that would be very helpful. Though she should keep her soothsayer nearby, as Bzzazz’s healing magic will prove handy. And tell her not to eat that meat!” He does not want the rotting flesh getting the saurians sick.
“Is there anything you can give me to signify to these saurians that I am an ally?” Cwuml asks.
Tric hands over one of his Estbryn scouting ribbons. “Hezzis should be familiar with this,” he tells Cwuml. At this point, Terwaen runs up to join them with a sheaf of updates for the silver mage to carry onwards with her. She slips that into one of the voluminous pockets of her outer robes. There are far more than Tric realized, hidden as they are among the many folds. When Tric retells the story later, though, these will be openings to the aetherium itself, enabling Cwuml to transport whatever is called for with no need of a saddlebag or backpack.
Cwuml takes a step towards the tent where she first appeared but then pauses. She turns back, locking eyes with Tric. “When you feel you have taught your apprentice as much as he can learn of your magic, send him my way,” she says.
Tric’s heart pounds in his chest; he’s given away far more than he thought. But he keeps a calm exterior. “I will do that,” he says with a gracious nod.
Cwuml steps through the flaps of the tent, and a moment later, a blaze of light shines out the opening.
Terwaen turns to her brother, a quizzical look on her face. “You have an apprentice?” Heppa also looks at Tric curiously.
“Oh, uh, it’s just magic stuff, don’t worry about it… That, um, scholar mage… He’s not really an apprentice, he’s just fallen on hard times. I’m trying to get him back on his feet,” Tric replies, brushing off the question. He really hates lying to his sister, but the urge to protect Kachen is stronger.