Chosen (Majaos Book 1) Read online

  Chosen

  (Majaos Trilogy Book 1) Majaos is a world of magic. Magic is Life. It flows all around, infusing almost every living thing. Not that everyone is a professional mage. The people of Majaos– the elves and dwarves, hobbits and gnomes, orcs and humans– are diverse in their aptitude for magic as for anything else.

  On the continent of Mythallen, Techmagic devices bring light and warmth, comfort and security to homes and businesses everywhere. But now the world is threatened by powerful new magic. Old magic. Magic that should be impossible.

  An Ancient threat has returned. Hiding in plain sight for years, she has learned everything she needs while the world has forgotten its history. At last she has made her move and war has begun. Eilidh is a bright, resourceful student of magic who believes in solving problems with her intelligence and just wants a quiet life. She hates Prophecy and has no real power of her own, yet she is Chosen to save the world. How can she possibly succeed?

  Maybe she can begin by saving a single life.

  Prologue The streets of Merlyon, the capital city of Mythallen, named after the Great Merlyn of legend, were arranged in a wheel-type pattern, the main streets forming concentric circles and eight straight radial lines like spokes. The first of these circles served as a boundary between Central Merlyon and the eight outer districts. Each of these districts was dedicated to one of the Nine Secrets of Magic. The Elemental Secrets - Earth, Fire, Air and Water - sat on the cardinal compass points, while the Ethereal Secrets - Shadow, Time, Spirit and Techmagic - occupied the ordinal points in between. Central Merlyon was mainly dedicated to the Ninth Secret, the Secret of Life, representing the way this Secret sat at the heart of all other magic.

  A young woman, dressed in pristine white robes with red hood and cuffs, walked along one of the streets of Central Merlyon, reflecting on the day’s events. Today had been Graduation Day, and so the city was filled with more than the usual activity. It was evening– the time when daytime businesses closed and night-time businesses opened. A time of change. A time of ordered chaos. The young woman stopped at her favourite market stall to buy a warm blueberry pie and as she waited in line, she glanced once more at her Graduation Scroll. It had taken them two goes, but they had finally got her name right. “It’s pronounced Ay-Lee, like Hayley without the `H`,” she had told them, “but it’s spelt E.I.L.I.D.H.” Her mother’s name had been similarly unusual, she knew. She liked her name, even though it was sometimes a pain to explain to others. It was different, unique, individual.

  She paid for her pie and thanked the stall holder, and after savouring her first bite, she continued walking alone. She was always alone. Eilidh had never known family, and she couldn’t honestly claim to have any friends to speak of. She knew she wasn't pretty or funny or any of the other things that made a person popular, and even before `the Incident` as she liked to call it, Eilidh had never quite `got` the social thing. She simply wasn't the social type, preferring a good book to idle gossip. As for small talk, the entire point of non-relevant conversation escaped her. When Eilidh had something interesting to say, she would say it, but it seemed to her that the only purpose served by small talk was to fill silence with noise. Eilidh liked silence. She liked a peaceful, quiet life.

  Since early childhood, she had been cloistered at Merlyon's Church of Life, learning to use her Life Gift as one born to the Secret of Life - a Catalyst. A mage of sorts. A mage with no real power of her own, but with the ability by birth and by training to convert magic from its dangerous raw state into the safe, usable form known as Life. Without a Catalyst to Grant Life to them, the mages of the other eight Secrets were extremely limited.

  All Eilidh’s other classmates who had graduated today, were out together as a group. No doubt they were revelling in the wondrous adventures they would enjoy as personal Catalysts to upand-coming archmages. Every single one of them would be convinced that they were destined to be the magical support to the greatest wizards, warlocks and sorcerers of their generation. Idiots! What made them think they were so special? She had even heard one fellow student make the outlandish claim that he was sure to be the legendary Du y Kharia.

  The mythical Well of Life was said in religious terms, to be the gift of Natus, the God of Magic, to the people of this world called Majaos. In physical terms, it was the source of all magic. Prophecy held that someday a Catalyst adventurer would discover it, led there somehow by Natus himself. In the language known as Pre-Ancient Elven, that Catalyst was termed `Du y Kharia`, translated into modern language as the Chosen One.

  Eilidh rejected the whole notion of the Chosen One. It was fallacy born of the delusion of prophecy. In centuries past there had been mages who called themselves Prophets, but that was just a pretentious term for Temporal mages who extrapolated possible future events from known facts with the aid of magic. Truly being Chosen by Destiny would be a violation of free will and there was nothing more important than that.

  Still, let them have their dreams of adventure if they want them, Eilidh thought, as she made way for a noble elf lady who looked at her like she was something unpleasant she had almost stepped in. Just as long they leave me out of it.

  The elf’s reaction was nothing new to the young Catalyst. She got them all the time. It was, she supposed, the price of fame, if `fame` was the right word. It seemed not to matter how long ago the Incident occurred, it was still newsworthy and Eilidh’s graduation had been the perfect excuse to drag it all out again. All she had done was tell the truth – a truth people did not want to hear. From a certain point of view, the response had been proportional: an inconvenient truth revealed in exchange.

  She didn't care. She used to when she was younger, but no more. Not for a long time. She possessed the Life Gift and she knew the joy of working to maintain the delicate balance in magic. Eilidh had been delighted to be offered a research position at the church following her graduation. There, she could be left alone to study and learn about the detailed workings of magic with the minimum of contact with anybody else. In this way, she would further the cause of magical balance without the dramas of adventure.

  Adventure never did anybody any good, so far as Eilidh could tell. Adventure wasn't fun and romantic; it was being terrified, in pain and not knowing from one moment to the next whether one was going to live or die. As far as she was concerned, her peers were welcome to their dreams and their adventures. She was planning on a quiet drink and an early night before returning to the church in the morning for quiet reflection at the start of her quiet working life.

  Eilidh had barely finished her pie, when before she could act or even think, she was surrounded by a flurry of black robes. Then darkness claimed her...

  * * * * * ...When she regained consciousness, Eilidh lay on a sofa, in a dark, candle-lit chamber. The colour of the sofa was not exactly to her taste: a kind of green that made her feel somewhat queasy, especially when her head already felt as if her brain had imploded. This green sofa had a purple trim at the bottom, which clashed horribly with the green, red highlights, brown tassels and a single, bright orange cushion. When she tried to prop herself up by leaning against this cushion, she could have sworn the sofa let out a stifled cry, but she put this down to her aching head.

  At that moment, a door appeared in the wall in front of her and opened, apparently by itself. A figure entered, wearing predominantly black robes that identified the individual as an Enforcer. The red hood and cuffs declared that he, like Eilidh, was aligned with the Balance. The door closed silently behind the figure - again, apparently by itself - and promptly disappeared again. As a Catalyst, Eilidh could see and sense the flow of Life in the room change as a result of a spell. The walls now glowed but it wasn’t just illumination but a shield
spell.

  Clearly, this Enforcer wants privacy, the Catalyst deduced.

  In an effort to slow her beating heart, she began breathing deeply, focussing her attention on the seal of the Council of Magic and the declaration beneath: Majaos y Natus– Magic is Life. The flow of Life around the room changed again as a result of his use of magic, and the room lit up. There followed a deathly silence, during which she had the distinct impression he was studying her intently, although the Enforcer gave no visible sign of this. He just stood before her, motionless, his face completely shrouded in the darkness of his hood, hands clasped before him, as was proper for one of his order. The Enforcers were highly disciplined, trained to use silence to emphasise their complete control over themselves and everything around them. This, in combination with their black robes, helped to instil a sense of fear and respect in others. The archmage knew that he could learn in a few moments of silence, everything he needed to know about the young Catalyst sat before him, much more efficiently than hours, days of interrogation.

  Eilidh had been sitting in silence for what seemed like hours, but was in fact, no more than a handful of minutes, before she realised the great disrespect she was showing by remaining seated in the archmage's presence. When she made to rise, however, mumbling something incoherent by way of apology or excuse for her behaviour, a slight hand movement from the Enforcer caused her to sit again and keep her mouth shut.

  Suddenly, the Enforcer spoke to her, which was almost more nerve-wracking than the silence. “Welcome Eilidh,” he said. The use of her name made her choke, but she stifled it instantly, as the Enforcer's forefinger twitched slightly. “I am Gamaliel,” he continued, “Chief Archmage of the Red Alignment of Balance, and I have something very important to discuss with you.”

  At a gesture of his hand, Eilidh found herself seated on a business-like chair at an equally business-like desk. Gamaliel was sat opposite her, hands clasped before him once more. The sofa disappeared at a word, and when he spoke again, it was to her.

  “What I am about to tell you, you will recount to no-one.” The use of the word “will” and not “must” did not surprise her.

  “Of course, Master,” Eilidh replied, having found her voice again. “You will undoubtedly be aware of the...” Gamaliel hesitated “...problems which the cities of Mythallen are facing, with the sudden invasion of...” he hesitated again “...so-called monsters of chaos.”

  “Except Merlyon, Master,” Eilidh pointed out, enthusiastically, pleased to be talking about something she understood, and keen to show that she was far from ignorant in worldly magical matters, despite being little more than an apprentice. “Our capital's permanent magical shield protects us from invasion, even by things like that!” Eilidh said this with such a flourish of the hands that she nearly sent a bright orange paperweight - which she could have sworn hadn't been there a minute ago

  - flying across the room. Eilidh blushed, opened her mouth, and then shut it again, feeling very awkward once more. She wished she could learn to talk without moving her hands so much. This was not the first time it had got her into trouble.

  “Indeed, you are correct,” continued the Enforcer, as if nothing had happened. “At least, you would be, under normal circumstances. However, if circumstances were normal, you would not be here now.” Then, seeing Eilidh flush even further, he said, “Let us dispense with formalities.” With that, he pulled his hood from his head, so that his full features could be seen. The golden hair, the sharp, angular bone structure, and the pointed ears: it all marked him as an elf. But there was something else; something distinctly nonelven...and something in his aura of magic was off, too…

  “Yes,” said Gamaliel, “you are intelligent and perceptive, Eilidh. I am, indeed, more than a typical elven mage.” Eilidh was unsure whether he had read her mind or just her face. “I am a half- elven clericmage,” he informed her.

  There were no religious symbols embroidered on his robes, which was unusual. However, Eilidh knew that some Enforcer-clerics felt that such detail detracted from the effect of their plain black robes and made do with simply wearing their clerical symbol on a necklace chain.

  With a hand gesture, Gamaliel caused a wine bottle and two crystal glasses to appear and hover above the table. It was nothing special - just simple household magic. It barely counted as a real use of Life. “Please, you will join me with a drink.” It was a statement, not a question, and without waiting for a response, Gamaliel glanced at the wine bottle, which obediently poured some of its contents into each of the glasses. The bottle continued to hover in position, while the glasses floated over to the mouths of their recipients. After sharing the drink in silence, the bottle and glasses disappeared again, much to the apparent annoyance of the paperweight.

  Eilidh put that ridiculous observation down to drinking the wine too fast. She did feel better for it, though. “As you say,” Gamaliel continued, as if there had been no interruption, “Merlyon's shield protects our capital from harm of any sort, usually. How long that will remain true, however, I would not care to say. The magic is failing, Eilidh. But that is notwhat I brought you here to discuss.” Seeing the multitude of questions and emotions on her face, he held up a hand to silence any she may have spoken, and said, ominously, “Let me start at the beginning...”

  * * * * * “A little over two hundred years ago, before the end of the Tech Wars, a Favoured Servant of Mortress found a young human girl of about sixteen summers, who had wandered into one of Avidon City’s Dark Temples. Her parents were never traced, so the Cleric adopted her. The girl's name was Niltsiar. Niltsiar was a Dark-aligned mage, born with the Life Gift in the Secret of Spirit; in fact, one of the last generation of necromancers to be born."

  One of the final blows of the Tech Wars, Eilidh knew, saw every single necromancer – indeed everyone with an affinity for Spirit magic – mysteriously died. Since then, inexplicably, no more necromancers had been born.

  “After hurtling up the ranks of that obscure order, she disappeared, never to be seen again,” Gamaliel told her. “About five years later," he continued, "a young woman of about eighteen summers arrived in the city of Shakaran. No one knew where she came from, but there were no apparent suspicious circumstances, so at eighteen, if she wanted to keep her childhood a secret, it was entirely her own business and no investigation was ever conducted. This girl, curiously named Niltsiar, was a powerful White-aligned mage with the Life Gift in the Secret of Earth. She was very powerful, completing the conjuror and magician grades in a fraction of the normal time. She rose up the wizard ranks, with equal efficiency. Everyone assumed that she would take her place among the most prominent and successful mages of Mythallen. Before she could do so, however, the wizardess disappeared, and was never found.

  “Since then, four similar curious incidents have occurred and I now believe that they all are somehow connected. These Niltsiar women had, up to this point, appeared in each of Shakaran and Avidon once, Keothara, and Baltacha twice, but never in Merlyon. Each one possessed the Life Gift in one of six of the Nine Magical Secrets, omitting Techmagic, Life and Fire. There is nothing obviously connecting these girls, other than the name - after all, they have appeared over two centuries, with different Life Gifts and each of the three alignments has been observed. Indeed, most of the other mages of the Higher Council are not at all convinced that any connection exists. I say they are wrong. I think that it is precisely this ignorant disbelief that has allowed recent events to occur.”

  “Forgive me, Master,” Eilidh ventured, “but what connection could there possibly be? Sometimes a remarkable coincidence is just that: a remarkable coincidence. Perhaps the name Niltsiar is known to some people in legend. It could merely be a case of a mother naming her powerfully Life Gifted daughter after an obscure mystical figure. At the same time, it is not uncommon for such highly Life Gifted mages to disappear on some quest and get themselves killed, leaving an orphan child behind. The Church of Life here in Merlyon has a memorial to
Catalysts who were formerly trained there before being attached to such powerful mages - Catalysts who disappeared without trace. I would say, with the greatest of respect, that it is simply a hazard of adventure. It is a common mistake to see connections where none exist. A mistake that anyone can make - even great mages such as yourself.”

  “True,” Gamaliel allowed, “but it is also a common mistake to assume there is no connection simply because one does not know what it is.” “Then perhaps if you could tell me what has happened to make you believe in this connection, a fresh perspective might be useful. Sometimes one can be blinded by one's own superior knowledge.” Eilidh prayed that Gamaliel wouldn't think of that as arrogant presumption. That's how it sounded to her own ears, but she got the impression that Gamaliel appreciated straight talking.

  Certainly, he didn't seem to mind, the way he brought his story up to date. “A few years ago, a woman in her mid -twenties arrived in Merlyon, born with the Life Gift in the Secret of Fire. Yes, she had great power, but such a thing is not uncommon with Fire mages. Her name was Niltsiar, and she soon became a high-ranking White War Witch. It came as no surprise when she became leader, or `Guardienne` of the White Mages.”

  Eilidh was well aware of the official titles for the leaders of the three divisions of magic: Guardian/Guardienne of the White Mages of Light, Master/Mistress of the Black Mages of the Dark and simply Chief Archmage of the Red Mages of Balance. She knew the names of all the top ranking mages, even with the recent wholesale changes, but she never planned to be important enough to be worthy of their notice. Why Gamaliel should be interested in her now, she could not imagine, but she dared not be so rude as to ask for an explanation. She was his guest until he decided otherwise. That fact didn't thrill her or scare her; it was merely a fact.

  “Her In her advance,” he continued, “she overtook both Kylan, who had been expected to remain Guardian for a few years yet, and Merlana - a very distant, female descendant of the Great Merlyn who we all thought would naturally succeed him.”