across the bustling streets and pushed through the din of the markets, following the zigzagging routes he had learned over his many years in the city. He half-expected that the city would have become as quiet as the palace, perhaps beset by fear of the impending invasion, but it seemed not. It still thrummed with life and was as vibrant as ever. The only notable absence was that of all the dark-skinned desert traders, but it seemed others had quickly taken advantage of the situation and set up their own stalls in place.
Magical lanterns were set about the School of Magic, hanging from the doorways and along the curving stone paths, creating little pools of clarity in the dim. As Samuel neared, each one was supposed to grow brighter and then fade away again after he had passed, but the lanterns sat idly. The spells tied to each could not detect him. At times, his innate lack of presence could be as much of a curse as a boon and so he trod the paths in darkness.
He came to Master Glim’s little cottage and rapped on the door.
‘Come in, Samuel,’ the voice of Master Glim beckoned from inside.
‘Remarkable! How did you know it was me?’ Samuel asked, stepping into the room. His old teacher was studying at his desk, as expected, with his eyeglasses dipping from the end of his nose.
‘Rather, I can presume it’s you, young Lord Samuel, when knocks sound on my door and no one seems to be there to make them. It’s not such a great leap of reason, is it?’
Samuel shut the door and came to sit opposite the aging teacher. ‘It’s good to see you, Master Glim.’
‘I can return the sentiment.’ He set his notes down and pushed his emptied dinner plate to one side. He seemed frailer than Samuel remembered and a sliver of shadow lingered in his features, where the light should have prevailed. ‘When Anthem returned and brought news of what had happened, I certainly feared the worst. However, I could not believe that you would be killed so easily. Surely, it would take more than an army to defeat you, Samuel. You are the Saviour of Cintar, after all.’
Samuel screwed up his face in feigned distaste while Master Glim chuckled softly to himself.
‘It seems we find ourselves deeper and deeper in hot water, Samuel,’ the teacher mused. ‘While we thought we were striding into a new A ge of R eason, it seems we have only stumbled into a renewed time of anarchy. If the Empire crumbles, the people of Amandia will suffer even more than they did under the Emperor’s totalitarian rule and, with the way things are going, the Order just does not seem strong enough to prevent it.’
‘So it seems. But I never thought you were fond of the Empire, Master Glim.’
‘Of course not. You know I have never cared for the Empire, but it had just reached the stage where it could start to become something unifying and benevolent—’ then he threw up his hands, ‘and now all this.’
‘ H ow go things in the School?’
‘Bah! We may as well give up now. I have a handful of students and barely the teachers to teach them. This war has taken its toll on us all. It will take us years to recover—decades.’
‘I’m sure we can get through this difficult time eventually. One day, I’m sure the Order will become the bastion of reason that we have long sought. It may just take longer than expected. We have been through much worse in recent times.’
‘I wish I could share your enthusiasm, Samuel, but I have started to feel a weariness in my bones. I am really quite tired and find myself just wishing to shut the gates of the school and keep the woes of the world outside, if only I could. Actually, while I think of it, Master Pot came seeking my advice today on a similar theme. It seems you two are at odds at the moment.’
‘It’s true.’
‘And you can’t see your way to giving him some respite? This has been a difficult time for him, also.’
‘Not as
Magical lanterns were set about the School of Magic, hanging from the doorways and along the curving stone paths, creating little pools of clarity in the dim. As Samuel neared, each one was supposed to grow brighter and then fade away again after he had passed, but the lanterns sat idly. The spells tied to each could not detect him. At times, his innate lack of presence could be as much of a curse as a boon and so he trod the paths in darkness.
He came to Master Glim’s little cottage and rapped on the door.
‘Come in, Samuel,’ the voice of Master Glim beckoned from inside.
‘Remarkable! How did you know it was me?’ Samuel asked, stepping into the room. His old teacher was studying at his desk, as expected, with his eyeglasses dipping from the end of his nose.
‘Rather, I can presume it’s you, young Lord Samuel, when knocks sound on my door and no one seems to be there to make them. It’s not such a great leap of reason, is it?’
Samuel shut the door and came to sit opposite the aging teacher. ‘It’s good to see you, Master Glim.’
‘I can return the sentiment.’ He set his notes down and pushed his emptied dinner plate to one side. He seemed frailer than Samuel remembered and a sliver of shadow lingered in his features, where the light should have prevailed. ‘When Anthem returned and brought news of what had happened, I certainly feared the worst. However, I could not believe that you would be killed so easily. Surely, it would take more than an army to defeat you, Samuel. You are the Saviour of Cintar, after all.’
Samuel screwed up his face in feigned distaste while Master Glim chuckled softly to himself.
‘It seems we find ourselves deeper and deeper in hot water, Samuel,’ the teacher mused. ‘While we thought we were striding into a new A ge of R eason, it seems we have only stumbled into a renewed time of anarchy. If the Empire crumbles, the people of Amandia will suffer even more than they did under the Emperor’s totalitarian rule and, with the way things are going, the Order just does not seem strong enough to prevent it.’
‘So it seems. But I never thought you were fond of the Empire, Master Glim.’
‘Of course not. You know I have never cared for the Empire, but it had just reached the stage where it could start to become something unifying and benevolent—’ then he threw up his hands, ‘and now all this.’
‘ H ow go things in the School?’
‘Bah! We may as well give up now. I have a handful of students and barely the teachers to teach them. This war has taken its toll on us all. It will take us years to recover—decades.’
‘I’m sure we can get through this difficult time eventually. One day, I’m sure the Order will become the bastion of reason that we have long sought. It may just take longer than expected. We have been through much worse in recent times.’
‘I wish I could share your enthusiasm, Samuel, but I have started to feel a weariness in my bones. I am really quite tired and find myself just wishing to shut the gates of the school and keep the woes of the world outside, if only I could. Actually, while I think of it, Master Pot came seeking my advice today on a similar theme. It seems you two are at odds at the moment.’
‘It’s true.’
‘And you can’t see your way to giving him some respite? This has been a difficult time for him, also.’
‘Not as
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