The Maiden of Moonfane Forge

-20 years prior-

“The private audience chamber is this way, Mage Marigold. I know it’s a bit of a climb; Black Crux Manor was not built for comfort, originally. However, once you have concluded your arrangement with Lord Marcus, I will show you to what will be your chambers, and I assure you they are some of the best and most comfortable in the castle.”

The steward led the ascent up the steep, winding stairway. Marigold followed a few steps behind him. When she had arrived earlier at the portcullis of Black Crux Manor, the stiff-walking and primly-dressed old man had been there to greet her. He had led her between the guards at the first gate, then up a sloping bridge across a jagged and stony dry moat to a second portcullis and gatehouse. The wind had whipped Marigold’s skirts about and swept through her long black hair as the guards at the second gate had perfunctorily questioned the steward before letting them through. The black-stoned castle itself loomed stark above her as she followed the man through its doors and into its interior. They had passed through the entrance chamber, then skirted the main hall and followed a side hallway to the winding stairs. Being it the early afternoon, there were a number of people about. Marigold saw servants rushing to and from their tasks, men-at-arms taking meals, townspeople who loitered around hoping to get an audience of their own with the lord of the manor. A thriving seat of power like this one was always busy, regardless of the hour.

“It did look a right fortress from the outside,” Marigold spoke. “But inside it has quite a different feel.”

In deep contrast to the dark, dour stone outside, the interior of the manor was warm and tastefully decorated. There were new rugs on all the floors, tapestries and wall-hangings insulating the plastered and painted walls, and all the wood and metal ornamentations were clean and polished. There were no missing candles in any of the candelabra, and the aromatic herbs left out in bowls on corner stands were fresh that day. It was clear great pains had been taken to make the manor a proper home, despite its intimidating exterior.

“Indeed,” the steward answered, turning to favor her with a smile over his shoulder. “Yes, the castle is one of the oldest still in use in the kingdom, and, you are correct, it was originally a dedicated fortress. It’s long ceased to be used as a martial stronghold, however. My lord’s forebears won a flourishing peace in this region many, many years ago, and Lord Marcus has maintained it for the benefit of his people and our king. As you can see, he keeps a good house.”

“No one in the dungeons, then?” asked Marigold, as they arrived at the top of the stairs and passed down another hallway.

The steward paused and turned back to her, brows raised and a look of alarm on his face, at which Marigold chuckled. “Ah, I see that you joke,” he said. “Lady Gilliana will enjoy that, I believe. No, nobody in the dungeons. In fact, they were walled over in my grandfather’s time. He turned and resumed his stroll down the hallway, arriving at an unassuming door. “Here we are. Go right in.” He knocked once and then pushed the door open while stepping aside for Marigold.

After a slight hesitation at the lack of ceremony she’d been expecting, Marigold strode confidently past him and into the small chamber. The door clicked shut behind her, followed by the sound of the steward’s footsteps receding as he returned to his duties elsewhere. The man at the desk in the middle of the room looked up and gave a subdued smile.

“You are Mage Marigold,” he said, a statement rather than a question. Marigold answered as if it were one anyway.

“That’s right. That’s me,” she said and returned a polite smile. “And you are Lord Marcus. I understand there is a young woman in your keep who has shown an incredible inclination for magic, and that you want me to teach her. Not in my own home, but here. That’s unusual. But your summons was a very persuasive one; the offer of payment you made for me to do this ...”

Lord Marcus stood up from his desk. The man was tall, though plain-looking, with a regal nose and thinning, short black hair that he wore in an outdated style. His manner of dress, likewise, was outdated, but the expensive materials made his high standing clear. Going by his appearance, Marigold judged his age as perhaps a handful of years younger than her own forty-seven. The thin smile remained on the lord’s face as he nodded his head once in affirmation.

“Enough to make your relocating from Hold Moonfane worth it to you.”

“More than enough,” said Marigold, cutting him off before he could say more. She looked around the little audience chamber. Everything in the room was of the highest quality, neat and ordered, yet austere. There was nothing garish. She was surprised at the restraint shown. “It’s not many people who have this kind of wealth and aren’t falling all over themselves to show it off in every way,” she commented offhandedly.

“It’s even less who would speak to a lord in such a casual manner.”

Marigold drew herself up. She was not tall, but she never let that stand in the way of anything. She smiled. “You’ve never met a master mage, I see.”

Lord Marcus pinned her with a stoic expression. Then, he smiled wryly and nodded, as if to himself. “You’ll do perfectly.” He moved out from behind his desk and went to gaze out the room’s one small window, which looked down upon a little courtyard below. “The young woman I want you to teach is my wife, Lady Gilliana. We were married only this past year. She is from common stock—we married for love, not by some arrangement of convenience between nobles—and due to that, she is unused to life in a keep like this. She ... has little to occupy her time.”

Marigold crossed her arms. “I do hope you didn’t coax me all the way here because a rich woman is bored. I’m not a juggler. There are any number of Journeyer Mages you might hire if she’d like to learn some simple magic.”

Lord Marcus turned back to the room. “Would they be able to handle her?” The question put Marigold off guard, and before she could choose a response, Lord Marcus went on. “It was a Journeyer Mage passing through my hold who pointed out my wife’s strong predilection for magic in the first place, and pressed upon me how only a master mage would do for teaching her. As I’m to understand it, you mages can feel magic in each other, can you not?”

Marigold chewed her lip, before nodding and admitting quietly, “Yes. I could feel her before I even caught sight of your castle. She’s like a little blazing bonfire out in that courtyard right now, isn’t she?”

“To me, in one way; to you, in another.” For the first time, Lord Marcus’s smile appeared genuine. These noblemen loved their negotiations and diplomatic waltzes, Marigold comprehended. He had done his due diligence and already knew how intrigued she would be by the power she felt, even before she’d stepped out of the carriage sent to fetch her here from the inn. The extravagant pay was only a formality. “She needs to be taught—should be taught,” he went amended. “If it also occupies her and ... entertains her, so she is happier, all the better.”

“That ain’t the only factor that goes into this sort of thing,” Marigold said, trying to wrest control of the situation back from the nobleman. “It depends on her wanting to learn, and being able to learn the kind of magic I can teach. If I work with her and find her not an apt student ...”

“Then keep the advanced coin you were already given and return home with my blessing,” said Lord Marcus easily. He nodded at the window, his voice softer now. “Go and speak to her for yourself. You shall see she is eager to learn a skill. Once you’ve been introduced, return to me here and we can finalize the contract. Your things should already be in your chambers by now.” The man stepped back around his desk and took his seat once more, and Marigold was grudgingly impressed at how adroitly he pivoted the conversation from being a deal discussed to a deal struck. He peered up at her only long enough to add, “I thank you, Mage Marigold. It is a prestigious thing for you to take up residence as Mage-Matron of Black Crux.”

With that, he called for his steward, who appeared as if by magic of his own behind Marigold to conduct her from the room.

The girl stood in the center of the little courtyard, dressed all in cream skirts and bodice, in stark contrast to the black stonework surrounding her, and the black tresses that fell nearly to the small of her back. When Marigold stepped into the courtyard, the girl turned and her dark eyes appraised both she and the steward who’d led her there. The expression on the girl’s well-sculpted face was one that sought to project both maturity and authority, but did not quite pull it off.

“Lady Gilliana,” said the steward, presenting the young woman to her teacher. “My lady, this is—”

“Mage Marigold,” Gilliana said in a silken voice. The young woman tipped her chin up at the little window above. “He thinks I cannot overhear him up there.” Then she smiled in a way that suggested she’d had little to smile about all day except for this small tidbit of a secret shared. Returning her attention to the steward, she said, “Thank you. You may go.”

Marigold could tell the old steward had wanted to say more, or perhaps had meant to stay and ensure the meeting went successfully. Instead, with a tight-lipped smile toward Marigold, he turned and took his leave.

“So ... you are a master mage?” Lady Gilliana spoke with curiosity when the man was gone. She looked upon Marigold as if she were some new type of bird presented to her for her amusement. Marigold wondered if she were. “Is that what I’ve been feeling all morning? Like a ... a growing presence ... somewhere.”

“You could sense me from that far away?” Marigold asked, surprised despite herself. “This morning, I’d not yet left the inn at the edge of town.”

“I felt something,” the young lady hedged. “Like, when a Journeyer plies their trade somewhere in town and there is a little tingling in the air.”

“Interesting,” said Marigold. She studied this girl more closely. She was older than most boys or girls typically would be when they began a mage apprenticeship, yet still so young—no more than half the age of her new husband, Marigold gauged. Young enough still to adapt to a new skill, so long as she had the disposition for the study. She certainly had a well of magical potential to draw upon, from what Marigold could sense.

“I want to learn something real, something useful,” said Lady Gilliana, as if picking up the threads of a previous conversation Marigold had not been present for. “I could do something that would impress my husband, and all the tiresome people who parade through our hall to speak to him everyday while ignoring me like I’m some bit of the scenery. I may not have grown up noble, so I am well behind in a proper education, but I still have ideas of my own, things I could contribute to this hold and my people.” As the young woman spoke, her eyes lit up with a faraway look that seemed to gaze beyond the stalwart walls of the old fortress that enclosed her.

“But my husband never likes my ideas.” She related this last piece of information with eyes downcast, yet her voice still level, as though she simply stated a fact. When she looked back up at Marigold again, her expression had become quizzical. “What is it that you do, I should ask. I have read about master mages, ones who caused the ground to liquify beneath attacking armies, or made invaders believe they had been struck blind, so they could not fight ...”

Marigold allowed herself a subdued smile. It was always thus with young people who wished to learn magic. They spoke with excitement only about the kinds of terrifying spells that steered historical events, won battles, or toppled monarchs from their thrones. They never spoke with that same excitement about the subtler kinds of magic that were useful in day-to-day applications. More often than not, when they heard those such spells described, they reacted with disinterest and disappointment. Those were the young people who would be turned away by any wise mage, potential or no. It took more than potential to learn to cast magic. One had to see more than glory in it, and be willing to work hard to attain it.

“Why don’t I show you?” Marigold offered. “Then you can decide for yourself whether what I teach is something you want to learn.”

Marigold turned to the open gate by which she had entered the little courtyard. Aware that the young noblewoman watched her with avidity, she relaxed her body and then, with practiced ease, swept her arm upward, her hand motioning across the open space of the doorway. A gate-shaped rectangle of shimmering gold appeared there. Like stained glass, it shone in the afternoon light. The Barrier cast, she let her arm fall and turned back to the young woman to witness her reaction. What she saw in her face was not disappointment, but curiosity.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Wait a moment,” replied Marigold.

Together they stood and watched the Barrier shimmer and sparkle, then gradually the golden hue faded and disappeared. In moments, there appeared to be nothing there. Now, the young lady’s expression became one of confusion, the knit of her brows bringing lines to her otherwise smooth complexion.

“I felt that,” she said tentatively. “When you made that magic, I could feel you do it. I still feel it. But, forgive me, I don’t understand what it is that you did.”

“Well, you will come to,” said Marigold. “Now, follow me. The demonstration isn’t quite done yet.” With that, Marigold clasped her hands behind her back and strode through the open gate. She didn’t have to look back to see that Lady Gilliana followed. Just as expected, she heard the young noblewoman come into contact with the Barrier and utter a cry of surprise. Eyes full of merriment, Marigold turned back around and looked through the gate’s threshold at Gilliana. “That is what I did.” She said, and allowed herself a good-natured chuckle. “Go on, try to get through.”

Eyes now wide with wonder, the young woman explored this invisible ‘gate’ with her hands. She braced them before herself on what appeared to be only air, yet when she leaned forward with all her weight and pushed upon it, it withstood her.

“I cannot,” she breathed. “It is completely solid. Yet, you walked right through it.”

Marigold smiled. She saw none of the dispassion many prospective mages displayed upon being shown Barrier-Casting. To the contrary, she could read on the young noblewoman’s face first contemplation, then an intense alacrity. Marigold decided she could teach this one.

“I, my lady, am a Barrier-Caster. Are you familiar?”

Lady Gilliana shook her head, causing her long raven tresses to sweep her shoulders. “Not until this day. But I wish to learn this magic with all my heart!”

Marigold’s face creased lightly in a smile and she dipped her chin. “Then it will be my privilege to teach it to you. Now ...” she swept her hand across the threshold and effortlessly dispelled the Barrier. “Come on, girl. You can walk through now. Come help me unpack my books and we shall begin planning out your studies.”

“Don’t bother with that,” said Lady Gilliana. “I’ll have a servant see to the unpacking of your things. That is what they are here for.” She stepped through the now unobstructed doorway and, with the kind of smile at home on the face of any young woman showing off for a new friend, summoned a maidservant and set her to the task.

Tight-lipped, Marigold watched the servant race ahead of them. “Very well,” she said. “Then, I suppose we can begin whenever you like. Henceforth, apprentice, you may refer to me as your Mage-Matron.”