Magical power filled the room as Marcus pushed and pulled, coaxing the strands ever so carefully into position. It wasn't his greatest work, in fact this was a break between projects, but it was important. A proper body double, especially one that could talk, understand context and report back to him, would be invaluable.
No more useless royal balls and pointless political functions. No more inane conversation with nobles who never surpassed basic math. He could dedicate his time to transmutation, alchemy and summoning. Mapping out the ever-changing Hells and charting the path of celestial bodies.
There could be people on those planets, and his father wanted him to make nice with women who thought agreeing with his every word counted as conversation?
No. Magic is what he was going to do, damn the expectations of his family. No amount of pressure was going to make him give up on his dreams. None. In fa-
The butt of a halberd banged against his door and Marcus had to scramble to save his creation. He couldn't, though neither did go critical and explode. Good. The last time that happened his father had gotten quite upset, though Marcus supposed the castle only had so many dungeons for him to use.
The last one was still filled with that self-propagating slime. He should probably take care of that one of these days, actually. The halberd banged against his door again, a sound he was growing increasingly familiar with.
None of the guards dared get close to his doors anymore. Not since one of them exploded. Which had been an accident, not that anyone seemed to care.
"His majesty the King summons you to the throne room, my Prince." The guard called. Not someone's voice he recognized, though how he was supposed to memorize them while they wore visored helmets he didn't know. "He was adamant you were to come at once, my Prince."
Marcus sighed, scattering the remaining magic. Delays after delays. He moved towards the door, throwing it open and glaring at the six guards. He blinked. Six? His father must be serious.
"Yes, yes. Let's go then."
The guards fell in around him as he walked, a pointless gesture while his magical shield was active, but whatever. Marcus started redesigning the matrix for his body double in the meanwhile. It was definitely too unstable if such a slight disruption destabilized it.
He kept going even as they entered the throne room, the vast chamber filled with nobles and court-sycophants. His father was seated at the far end, the throne towering over everyone else. Helios wasn't next to him, which was odd, but not that odd.
His father started droning on about how he'd come of age, a speech Marcus had heard before and thus mostly turned out, when then the whole court fell silent. Marcus focused, playing back the conversation in his head and hoping he'd misheard.
"Did you not hear me, son?" The King asked, leaning forward on his throne. His tone was hard, harder than usual, and Marcus fought not to straighten. "The deal is done. You are to marry Princess Elenoir Marsennius, who will arrive with her fleet within the fortnight."
Marriage? Marcus' thoughts ground to a halt, honestly not sure what to say to that. Ambushed, his opinion ignored, put on the spot before the entire court? His father knew what he thought about the subject, that he wanted to travel and master magic, so what the hell was the thinking?
He spoke before he could stop himself, knowing it was a mistake the moment he did. "Are you insane?"
If the court was quiet before, now the silence was deafening. Marcus flinched. He should not have said that. Not in front of the whole court. The question was an honest one, but still. His father was old, his father was losing his grip on the kingdom, but the man was not weak. Not yet. The King spoke again before Marcus could attempt to limit the damage.
"You will marry her." The King repeated, tone carved from stone. "She is a decorated warrior and brings many souls with her. We have the land, she has an army. Skills and abilities not often seen on this continent, even, which we will need if the Empire continues its habit of exp-"
Marcus didn't really listen to the rest of it, though he heard it all. She spoke a different language, was twenty two, a veteran of war… All things that made her sound utterly incomparable. But the word kept echoing through his head. Marriage. The implications of it. Of all the time he would be away from his work, forced to appease greedy nobles, fickle peasants, raising chi-
No. This was not happening. Marcus would admit to some panic as he turned, striding out without so much as glancing at the audience. The guards at the door hesitated but did nothing, which was just as well. He was in no mood to be gentle, and his magic always got a little volatile when he was emotionally unbalanced.
It was only halfway back to his room that it sunk in properly. When the panic was replaced by dread, both at his inevitable punishment for speaking to the King like that and then just straight up leaving.
"Married?" Marcus whispered to himself, furious. He'd known it was coming, that sooner or later a political union would take place, but now? "No. Absolutely, positively, no."
Two guards, more of his fathers guards, looked at him warily as he passed by. Good. Marcus didn't spare them a glance, keeping his back straight and eyes forward. Royal etiquette lessons paled in comparison to the joy of magic, but they had their uses.
Of course, magic helped. If either guard had pushed the issue, had tried to stop him from leaving, he could have flung both along the corridor without a second's pause.
Swords stood no chance against magic.
"Married." Marcus hissed, slamming the door shut behind him. His Magic flared, the cool energy twisting through his body and soothing frayed nerves. Somewhat. "Like some foreign princess with half an army can stabilize this disaster of a kingdom. No, enough is enough."
He was angry enough he realised he'd never even asked where she was from. Not that it mattered. Magic was all he cared about. He'd told his father that before, but it seemed no one really understood. Few cared enough to try. Magic was what he wanted, and what passed for an education here mostly consisted of travelling 'experts'.
The Empire had an Academy. A proper place of learning and education. Of progress. His father would send envoys to get him back, no doubt, but his failed experiment had some use. Even an incomplete body-double would buy him time.
Marcus pulled an old earthen golem from his closet, eyes glancing at the spatial seals. They'd need repairs soon enough, which was a horrendously time consuming process, but it wasn't his problem anymore.
The castle would survive its collapse. His room wouldn't, but whatever. Nothing that couldn't be replaced, and no one came in here to clean. Not since he'd raised a blood-ward to ensure his privacy.
A fist banged on the door, the noise loud and grating. Marcus shot it an annoyed glare, waving a hand as two suitcases filled themselves with clothes and baubles. The brief use of short-ranged telekinesis made him smile, and then the door rattled as someone knocked again.
There was only one person who would be that persistent after his outburst. Helios. The man simply had to have a bloodline of some sort, being that energetic at sixty. Marcus flicked his hand, the door opening as the Duke stumbled inside.
"Ah, my Prince. I heard you had an argument with the King, and- Are you packing?"
"No." Marcus lied, another flick of his fingers shutting the case. Telekinetic bonds struggled to hold them closed as yet more clicked the locks shut. "Why are you here, Helios?"
The Duke dusted off his cloak, striding inside properly. The man was one of very few who didn't view his chamber with suspicion and fear, a fact Marcus honestly appreciated, but not right now. "The King has ordered his guards to ensure you do not leave the residential wing, my Prince."
"And if I feel like going for a stroll?"
Helios sighed. "The guards are not pleased with your continued disregard for their position, my Prince. They cannot disobey the King, they cannot stop you without risking your life, and-"
"They cannot stop me at all." Marcus snapped, layering the last illusion. A near perfect copy of himself appeared, though it would neither feel right nor be able to speak. Not without revealing it to be a golem. Good enough for a few days. "Are you going to try and stop me, Helios?"
Something dark flashed over the man's face. A shift in posture, perhaps, or the way light caught a dagger sitting on the Duke's hip. Then it passed, and that tired smile was back on the man's face. "I know better, my Prince. Which is why I have convinced the King to allow you into the royal vaults."
"Bribery?" Marcus scoffed, intrigued despite himself. The lock on that place was sufficiently enhanced to bar entry even to him. "He thinks a petty trinket is going to smooth over the fact he traded me away to some foreign woman who's language I don't even speak?"
Helios shrugged. "It is bribery. And the Queen-to-be is coming here, since her kingdom was destroyed by a plague of magically adapting zom-"
"I don't care." Marcus interrupted, mentally ordering his duplicate to pick up the suitcases. Their level of intelligence was good enough to follow basic orders. "The vault is unlocked?"
"It's keyed to your bloodline, my Prince. All you need to do is smear some essence on it."
Marcus blinked, feeling stupid. He hated feeling stupid. "That's the single worst security measure I have ever heard of. What if someone steals my blood?"
"I'm not a trained mage." The Duke shrugged. "Your Father seems to think it will work."
That didn't clear much up, really. The King hadn't been magically inclined before he'd lost most of his mind. Not aside from dreamwalking.
"Fine." Marcus grunted, stalking towards the door. "But this doesn't mean I'm marrying her."
The Duke bowed his head, Marcus scoffing at the gesture, and he stalked off. He'd go to the vault, take what artifacts were worth taking, then sell them in the Empire to fund his research. All the nobles went crazy over their precious magical toys, but most weren't worth the sweat spent on them.
Why use a tool when magic was right there? When it could summon demons, conjure fireballs and bend the concept of space to one's mind? The knowledge alone one could learn from the older infernals was ridiculous.
That reminded him. Vess. Marcus shrugged after a moment.
The succubus could banish herself in a few weeks time. Not worth making the detour.
He left Helios behind and moved down, taking twisting tower-stairs and tight corridors. A thousand hours he'd spent exploring the castle, first for fun and then to avoid people. He knew more about it than any of the guards, more than his father and Helios combined, and it was almost nostalgic.
The vault, perhaps paradoxically, was connected to those back routes. Not into the place itself, but they could get one close. Closer than seemed wise.
It was also a place forgotten by time. Old, barely glowing gems lit up the cracked stone, the entrance itself nothing but once-pristine wood. And yet, for all its age, the magical energy here was stronger than anywhere else in the kingdom.
The door shouldn't survive an axe, let alone a fireball, but Marcus knew nothing he possessed would get him through it. There was no lock to pick even if he had that skill, no element the wood would yield to and even time seemed hesitant to rust the hinges.
This was old magic, some brilliant mage achieving a feat none would replicate for centuries after their death. Age did not make magic stronger, and in truth most modern spells were superior to their predecessors, but there were exceptions. Exceptions like this door.
Marcus took the knife from his hip, one of the few habits his martial instructors had managed to beat into him; Never be unarmed. Marcus hesitated a moment before slicing his forearm, coating the blade in a thin layer of blood.
Inelegant, brutish things, weapons. Magic was far superior.
He pressed his arm to the wood and watched it be absorbed, a soft hum of power filling the air. Marcus breathed it in, tapping his foot as the vault door slowly opened. His imagination ran wild, even though he knew better than to expect anything worthwhile, and yet more stones lit up the interior.
It was as worn-down as the outside, which meant the door itself held the bulk of the enhancements. Marcus ran his hand along the wall as he stepped inside, considering. The runes spread through the whole chamber, but the wood was the focus. The main seal.
Sloppy. Powerful, but sloppy. His eyes adjusted to the dark, what little natural light spilled into the hallway not making it past the door, and he blinked.
Disappointment. That was the main feeling the contents of the Royal Vault invoked.
For starters, half of it was weaponry.
Slapping enchantments on a weapon does not make it an equal to magic, let alone allow one to kill a mage. Marcus moved past them, grumbling at all the wasted potential.
After that was armor, including two full sets of plate, and he was forced to admit those were a better investment. Slightly. Still nothing compared to a mage, but he supposed Kings and nobles felt better wearing it.
Amulets. Now that was a proper use of enchanting. Of course, the moment he touched one, more disappointment arrived. It was probably a potent artifact, once upon a time, but even with the slowed decay inside the chamber there was barely any magic left.
Arrow deflection was a good choice, but this would barely protect against four of them simultaneously, let alone a dozen. A proper magic dome was far superior.
Next he found rings, only one of which he took, and then a number of books. There, his disappointment vanished. Some of it was mundane, like tomes with endless pages and quills that never ran out of ink, but even that was useful.
Paper, as his father had forced him to learn, was expensive to make. Marcus grimaced, suppressing the uncomfortable memory.
Sitting there, mashing pulp as unwashed peasants surrounded him. It wasn't their fault they were born as they were, birth simply did not work like that, but to never wash? And his arms. Gods, he could still feel them cramping.
There was a witch's grimoire, which he was pretty sure was bound in Human leather and something that he was definitely taking with him, and a small booklet from someone who's name had been burned from the cover. Marcus hesitated, all but feeling the utter darkness in it.
Perhaps not that one.
And then, finally, Marcus turned towards the cube. Stone, though not a kind he recognized nor could be found anywhere in his kingdom, and covered with runes. And glyphs, and several more methods of imbuing enchantments.
No, not covered with them. Carved that way. Marcus bent down, one finger touching the stone as the wooden gate opened again.
He looked, finding both his father and Helios there. Marcus frowned, taking in their expressions. Helios seemed worried ,which was strange, and his father looked guilty? Why would the man look guilty?
He was about to speak before his surroundings disappeared in a flash. Marcus blinked, blatantly raising a full-body shield. His magic did nothing.
Marcus cursed, whipping around wildly to look at the void. Tried again to reach his magic, feeling a block there to keep it from him. That was when panic set in properly, but before that could spiral into hysteria a man appeared.
No, not a man. An illusion. Mid thirties, robed and wielding an old staff. A staff crowned with a large piece of quarts, which Marcus knew to be more for show than actual use.
Mages needed no instruments to cast magic. Could make use of them, yes, but they never needed them.
"So you wish to become my apprentice." The illusion spoke. Marcus blinked, leaning left. Its eyes kept looking where he'd arrived, which meant the thing was barely intelligent. Great. "It is a great honor to have come this far, and Archmage Balthazar commends you on your dedication."
Archmage Balthazar? An actual Archmage, or one of those travellers claiming the title without knowing what it meant? Considering the block on his magic, which Marcus hadn't even known was possible, he was leaning towards the former.
Shit.
"The School of Life will test your mettle." The illusion continued, uncaring for Marcus' rising panic. "It will measure the skills that Archamge Balthazar determines you require improvement in. Please stand still."
Marcus froze as magic pressed down around him, up and through his body before reaching his head. His own magic stirred as the fear became nearly all consuming, and yet the block held. As far back as he could remember magic had always done something when he'd demanded it.
"Mental inspection completed." The illusion- No. Balthazar. That was the Archmage himself, wasn't it? Talking in the third person, which was only slightly less weird with it being just an image of himself. "You are deemed unworthy to become an apprentice of the Archmage Balthazar. Please exit the School of Life."
What? Marcus skipped past the unworthy part, though that did sting. He'd never been good with weapons, never excelled at royal etiquette or geography or maths, but this was magic. The one thing that came to him as naturally as breathing.
"Please exit the School of Life."
"How?" Marcus snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I'll go if you tell me how to."
"Please exit the School of Life. If you do not leave, you will be forcibly extracted."
Forcibly implying a less than gentle approach, but Marcus didn't care so long as it got him out. So he waited, bracing himself for returning to that damned vault. To try and explain what the hell had happened to his father.
Twenty seconds passed. Then forty, then a few minutes, and a while after he'd lost track of time Marcus let the tension go.
The illusion just stood there, staring at the spot he'd arrived at, and Marcus hesitantly reached out a hand. It passed straight through, which was expected, and the magical feedback felt fine. Yet his own magic refused to obey, no matter how much he pulled and tugged.
More time passed. Marcus sat, trying to find a way past the block on his magic, then he became hungry. Then thirsty, then bored, then angry before finally simmering down and growing tired.
Sleep, surprisingly, came quickly. There wasn't a floor, necessarily, and void-stuff was far from comfortable, but he'd slept on tables before. Well, he'd fallen asleep while observing some experiment or reading a book.
"-s such, emergency ejection is not possible." The illusion spoke. Marcus blinked, cursing as he sprung to his feet. The thing kept talking, uncaring that he'd missed gods-know how much. "The School of Life will continue the initiation. Please state your name."
"M- Marcus?"
"Acknowledged: Marcus. You are not on the list of registered apprentices who have applied to serve Archmage Balthazar. Please exit the School of Life."
Marcus recognized that, maybe, he lost his temper after that. Just a little bit. There was a lot of shouting, which the illusion was thoroughly unphased by, and he was pretty sure he tried to strangle the projection at one point.
He calmed eventually, realised that he didn't know nearly enough curses to properly express himself, and sat back down. If this was going to take another day to resolve, he might as well try to get his magic back. Again.
He'd barely gotten started when the illusion started up again. "The School of Life is experiencing multiple malfunctions. Please inform Archmage Balthazar's personal secretary. The School of Life is a class nine magical artifact. All sapient beings within four miles should evacuate. Please state your name."
Marcus sighed, wondering what the hell a class nine magical artifact was. From what he knew those things weren't classed at all. "Marcus."
"Acknowledged: Marcus. You are not on the list of registered apprentices who have applied to serve Archmage Balthazar. Please exit the School of Life. You are deemed unworthy to become an apprentice of the Archmage Balthazar. Please exit the School of Life. Your following qualifications have been reported. Magical potential: High. Martial competence. Low. Overall competence: Low. Ability to follow orders: Low. Level of education: Acceptable. Level of determination: Acceptable. Chance of success before mental instability becomes unacceptable: Acceptable. Please continue through the portal to begin your journey through the School of Life. Archmage Balthazar will only accept the finest apprentices, and the School of Life will ensure you are prepared to reach your full potential."
He stared as the portal faded into sight, a rough stone arch with nothingness on the other side, and looked back at the illusion. Had it sounded more alive when it had spoken about potential? Marcus wasn't sure. "Are you going to answer my questions now?"
It didn't reply. Of course it didn't. Marcus hesitated, looking between the arch and the illusion, and then the edge of the void started closing in.
He hurried towards the portal for lack of a better option. The illusion stayed right where it was even when the ring grew too small, floating, and Marcus found the space far smaller than he'd assumed. Stupid of him not to check.
Another moment of hesitation, the edge came another few feet closer, and then he stepped through. Marcus blinked, lying on the floor and feeling oddly weighed down. His fingers felt stiff, Marcus making a fist and finding that he was wearing gauntlets. Armor. Half-plate from the weight of it.
A soldier glared down at him, unfamiliar markings on his chest, and kicked his leg. Hard. "Get up, private Lannoy. I don't give two shits about what old, storied house you came from. No fresh recruit is going to sleep on the gods-damned job, not on my watch."
Marcus flinched at the hit, looked around wildly and found a military camp spreading around him. Tents and soldiers and horses, sprawling around him in a giant mess of cloth and noise. The man kicked him again, Marcus reflexively pulling on his magic to defend himself, and found it was still blocked.
That's when the panic really set in, the soldier kicked him again, and Marcus saw an eight foot Orc march past them both.
An extinct, eight foot tall Orc.
What the fuck is going on?!
Afterword
And so it begins. I'm sure Marcus will do fine. Not like I'm one of those authors that wants to make their characters earn their power through suffering, or anything…
Anyway, it is here. A mostly original (if anything can ever be called truly original) soft fantasy story. If you're here from Value Loyalty Above All Else, welcome! If you're not, don't worry about it and be welcome all the same.
I hope you enjoy the ride!
Discord (The first four chapters are on it, I guess?) [Check author profile or pinned comment on the chapter.]