Back of the Envelope

The Rest of the Story: The whole of Fire can be found on my Writings page in PDF format, while the portion of the story that's been published on this blog so far is on this page.

This chapter had a lot of interesting stuff, and I learned a lot about how the Domini operated. Most importantly, it moved the story forward in a lot of ways--more on that later. For now, here's Chapter 16 of Fire.

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Chapter 16
Verdict
"Yes."

While a ripple ran through the watching Domini, both Senators and observers, Randall just breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he had thought that Victor would not go through with it. Kulsin was smiling now, ready for the kill. "Tell me about it," he said as the murmuring died down.

That Victor did, reluctantly, the words being dragged out of him by Kulsin's probing questions. Victor avoided meeting Kulsin's or Aulus's eyes, mostly looking at the floor. The tale he told, of meeting with Aulus several times a month over the last two years before he came here, of learning the basics of Essence and Circuits, was believable and convincing. He kept his story simple, only filling in details as Kulsin prompted him. If Randall had not known about Aulus's message to his nephew, he would have believed the story.

Kulsin fought hard not to grin, but Randall could see the triumph in his eyes. "Tell me, Victor, did Aulus ever have any contac' with your sister?"

For the first time, Victor raised his head, eyes darting between Randall, Kulsin, and Aulus. Despite his obvious uncertainty, it took him only a moment to answer "No."

"Are you certain?" Kulsin pressed.

"I'm certain that I don't know anything about it." Victor looked at Aulus openly now, a real question in his gaze. Aulus gave no sign that Randall could see.

"Did she know about your meetin's with Aulus? Did you tell her about them, teach her anythin'?" Kulsin was shooting blind now. Randall relaxed a bit, but Victor seemed even more wary.

"No, nothing. I didn't tell anyone about my uncle. What does Lucia have to do with this?" He then belatedly added, "If I may ask."

"Lucia is dead."

"What? Dead? How--?" Victor's voice cracked, halting his sudden rush of words. His face had lost color and expression.

"Lucia was killed by magic, probably her own. A Dominus went to speak to her about Aulus. We don't know what happen' between them, but some spark of uncontrolled magic started an unnatural fire that killed both of them. No one else was harm'." Victor's mouth moved, but Randall could not hear any sound which he may have made. Kulsin didn't wait for him to speak anyway. "Whatever happen' is the fault of the one who taught her so poorly. If you know anythin', you should tell us now and brin' that man to justice."

Kulsin's bulging eyes were fixed on his witness's, who just stared straight through him. The Kairnin at least had the grace not to point at Aulus as he invited Victor to name Lucia's murderer. The young man was firmly caught in Kulsin's trap, and Randall expected him to break down and tell Kulsin what he wanted to hear. In the end, truth won out, an odd victory considering that Victor had been lying only a moment ago. "I don't know of anything between Aulus and Lucia," the Acolyte said slowly. "I'd tell you if I did." Randall believed that.

Kulsin kept his eyes focused on his prey's a moment longer, then turned to the presiding Dominus. "I have no more questions for him."

"Very well," Marton, who ran the Senate this year, replied without standing. "Does the Accused have any questions?"

Aulus stood. "I believe the boy has suffered enough. I won't add to his misery."

"The witness may go then," Marton said. "Randall, will you take the Acolyte Victor to his quarters?"

Randall rose and went to Victor. Taking hold of his arm, he steered Victor out of the chamber. As soon as they were past the door, the boy came to a stop. "Is it true?" Victor asked. "Is Lucia dead?"

Randall glanced around. With the trial in session, no people wandered the hall, but even an empty public hallway was too exposed. He placed a finger to his lips, then led Victor down a side corridor, then another, then a third that ended in a blank wall. No doors led off the narrow, dead-end passageway. Aulus wrapped a protective sphere around them both to keep their voices from traveling.

"What's going on?" Victor asked, angry and grieving.

"Kulsin thinks your sister is dead. Aulus believes otherwise."

"What do you think?"

"I think that it is very important for Kulsin to believe Lucia is dead. I think he would kill her if he found her alive."

"So she is alive," Victor said, wiping damp eyes with his red sleeve. He took a slow breath. "What happened? Is she all right? Where is she?"

Randall lay his hand on the boy's shoulder, "I never said she was alive, and I will truthfully deny using that particular phrase if you tell anyone that I have." His eyes flicked back down the hallway, "I suggest you don't do that. Kulsin didn't send that Dominus to just talk with your sister. And I cannot tell you any more than that without putting you at risk."

"I don't care about that," Victor snapped.

"I do," Randall said calmly enough, considering the strain he felt. If this boy didn't keep quiet, he could destroy not just himself and Aulus, but Randall as well. "Aulus thought enough of you to risk himself for your sake. I'm not going to let your recklessness throw that away. Is that perfectly understood?"

Victor ignored the question, instead looking in the direction of the Senate chamber. "I've doomed him, haven't I?"

"No, you haven't. It was his choice."

Victor shook his head. "No, it was mine. He asked me to do it, which may make his actions noble and honorable. That does nothing to justify mine."

Randall had nothing to say in response to that.

After escorting Victor to the large wooden gates that marked the border between the Inner and Outer cities, Randall made his way back to the Senate Amphitheater. He slipped in quietly through a side door so that he would not disturb the proceedings, but the care seemed unnecessary, as the entrance of a Novar army would not have drawn attention away from the drama taking place on the floor. Aulus and Kulsin were both standing, red-faced and engaged in a shouting match. At the moment, Kulsin was drowning out Aulus. "Your disregard for the laws of the Domini have hurt us in the eyes of the world, not helped. It is your fault that we are unwelcome in Quian, forbidden from even enterin' Manuel's capital."

"My fault?" Aulus's voice rose to an even greater volume. "Quian hates us because you murdered dozens of innocents."

"I destroyed a Necromantic cult. There were no innocents there, no matter how youn' they were. You're the one who brought outsiders into the Order's affairs. They should never have witness' what we did there."

Aulus trembled with anger. Randall, taking his seat near the front of the Senate, thought for a moment that the Novar would launch himself bodily at Kulsin. When he spoke, however, his voice had returned to its normal tone. "This isn't about me, Kulsin. You know that and I know that."

Randall should have recognized it as a bad sign when Kulsin just let him speak. "This is about the Order. You and I each hate what the other represents. You want the Domini to remain the same, unchanged after seven hundred years. I believe the time has come for us to change. Whatever laws I have broken, I've only harmed the Order if you see any evolution as harmful."

Aulus began to move now, pacing back and forth. Kulsin stepped out of his way. Looking around, Randall could see the nearby Senators following Aulus with their eyes, hanging on his words. "We have decided that the way we are is the only way we can be. The only way we can perform our function. Thus we will Expel any one of us who threatens to change that, by teaching our skills to someone else, by telling an outsider about our affairs, by loving a woman. These things don't harm our Order, they help it. They make us part of humanity again, allowing us to identify with those we're supposed to be helping, actually doing something for them rather than watching from the shadows. What have we done to help the human race recently? In what way have we improved the lot of a single person? We don't feed the starving, we don't heal the sick, we don't educate the ignorant. The Philosophers may look down on the rest of the world, but at least they're not afraid to go out into it. Thousands have benefited from their knowledge and skill, as expensive as it is. Name one human being who is better off because we exist. We are so intent on protecting them from mythical enemies that we can't be bothered to care about the people we're protecting."

"And what of these enemies, Domine? What can you tell us about them?" Kulsin spoke softly, but he nearly bounced on his toes in excitement. Be careful, Aulus, Randall thought, certain that Aulus must see the insane look in the Kairnin's wide eyes.

His thoughts went unheeded. Aulus had been planning this speech for a long time, and he gave no indication he even heard Kulsin, though his next words addressed the question. "And what enemies are we supposed to be defending humanity against? No inhuman army has moved against any human state in centuries. Orcs, Kawyr, the mythical Malwer, all seem content to stay where they are." Aulus came to a stop in his pacing, near where he had started. "Humanity doesn't fear any of them as much as they fear us."

Kulsin stepped forward then, his smile revealing his victory more loudly than his words. "Aulus wants us to forsake our mission, abandonin' our defense of humanity in order to befrien' them. There's a reason why nations have professional armies. Even the Novar citizen soldier is more ideal than reality. The men who guard the welfare of nations need to be harder, stronger, better train' than those they guard. They need a ruthlessness, a willingness to kill and to die that would be dangerous amon' the citizenry. We are the soldiers of humanity. Aulus wants us to become soft and weak so that the world will like us. They don' need to like us, and only selfishness would make us think that it's more importan' than protectin' them. The greates' love we can show for our people is to not seek their love at the expense of their welfare.

"Yes, yes, Aulus will argue that we are not helpin' their welfare. We watch and wait for a threat that will never come. The time for waitin' has passed. This mornin', I received the news that the Orcish horde has return'." This morning? Kulsin had to have known for days. Randall vividly remembered how Kulsin had put off the trial for nearly a month, suddenly agreeing to this date only five days ago. That's when he must have received the news, somehow keeping it secret until now. "The Dominus bearin' this news has jus' arrived."

Nathan, a long-time ally of Kulsin, entered from a side chamber. Aulus didn't wait for his report before he spoke sharply, "How long have you known about this, Kulsin? It's just a little too convenient that you share this news now." So Aulus saw through the Kairnin's deception as well.

"Do you think I would hide somethin' this important from the Senate? If you're goin' to sugges' that, at least make a clear accusation. As I said, Nathan just arrived this mornin', an' he came to me so I could presen' him to the Senate. I admit I intended to wait for the en' of this trial so we could focus our full attention on his news, but it seems that it is relevan' to the trial as well."

"If the Orcs have returned, then it is more important than this mockery of a trial. Let Nathan speak." Aulus resumed his seat. Marton gestured for Nathan to speak as soon as he had done so.

The newly arrived Dominus went to the center of the floor and faced the assembled crowd. He looked tired and dirty, although his travails had left no mark on his robe. He waited for Kulsin's nod before speaking. "Two months ago, Dominus Kulsin asked a number of us to accompany the Novar army headed to the Austral Pass. Their commander, Proconsul Aurelius, believed that the Kawyr were planning an offensive, and he intended to seal the Pass in order to prevent it. Our agents had heard of this, and Kulsin thought it best that we go along in case the threat turned out to be real. Once we arrived at the pass, a patrol went through to investigate further. One of our own, Danil, went with them.

"While they were away, a Kawyr raid attacked the Novar fort, a very specific raid which targeted our means of communication, both mundane pigeons and more magical means." Nathan drew a Speaking Glass from around his neck and showed it to the audience. Something had shattered the half-orb.

"We learned why when the remnant of our patrol returned. They had encountered Orcs on their patrol, thousands of them, accompanied by dozens of warlocks. Fully half their men had died in the flight, Danil among them. The Orcish horde was heading for the pass. They didn't know the exact number, but they had discovered a cache with enough supplies for twenty thousand. Sosto, who led our expedition, ordered me to report to the Senate as quickly as possible. I came by the nearest Doorway, in Martia, to arrive here today, twelve days after I left the Austral Pass."

The assembled Domini had remained quiet during Nathan's speech. Now loud voices stirred among them, demanding action, asking questions, creating utter confusion. Kulsin walked to the middle of the floor beside Nathan, raising his hand for silence, which he got. "Now, Aulus, do you see that there is indeed a threat against humanity that we alone can face?"

Aulus stood. "I see. I see that you have taken advantage of this disaster to get your way. You kept critical information from us so you could use it for political advantage." Shouts and jeers rose from the assembled Domini, aimed at Aulus. Even Senators were shouting at him, some of them among those whom Aulus had counted as allies.

"What would you have us do, then? Nothin'?"

"No, we should do what is right. Here and now, that means fighting this enemy. However, we must not use it as an excuse to undo whatever small progress our Order has made in the past few centuries." They were fine words, Randall thought, but hopeless. Randall knew it, Kulsin had known it from the beginning, and even Aulus must know it by now.

Kulsin turned to face Marton, a light in his bulging eyes. "This trial is no longer the most important issue facing the Senate. I move for an immediate vote on Aulus's guilt or innocence. The issue is not whether he broke our laws: he's admitted as much. He merely argues that his lawbreakin' is somehow justified because there is nothin' to defen' agains'." He didn't need to state his opinion of that argument.

Aulus looked to the dais. "Kulsin is right, there is nothing more to debate. He believes that defending humanity, whatever it takes, is more important than caring about it. I believe in helping people, and yes, that means defending them, but it also means sharing our knowledge and our skills. We cannot serve them by destroying what is human about ourselves."

Marton said, "The advocates have spoken. We will now take the vote."

Randall's initial assessment had been right: Kulsin had already won.



The vote had been close, but enough of Aulus's support had evaporated with the return of the Orcs that Kulsin got the two-thirds necessary for a guilty verdict. For Aulus's crimes, the only possible punishment was Expulsion from the Order. Two guards escorted the convicted Dominus from the chamber. A moment later a hush settled on the amphitheater as the significance of what had happened began to sink in. The Domini did not Expel their own every day, or even every year. No Senator had received that sentence for at least a century, and never one as admired and respected as Aulus. Kulsin did not allow the moment to last, moving to claim the floor immediately. "Fellow Domini, we all feel the tragedy involved in judgin' one of our own, but the business of our Order must go on. The Orcs will not give us a chance to grieve."

Randall didn't wait for Kulsin to whip the crowd into a frenzy. Even Domini could be manipulated by a man like him. Certain that no one would miss him, he slipped out through the same side door by which he had entered earlier.

Leaving the Amphitheater, he headed in the direction of the prison. The trial and the subsequent news had lured everyone but himself out of the streets. Despite the mild weather--the weather was always mild on the island--the warm sunlight on his black robes caused him to sweat. Or that may have come the shame and fearfulness he associated with his upcoming interview. He avoided thinking about that by focusing on navigating the streets. Usually the eclectic collection of buildings both amused and impressed him. The Amphitheater, where the Senate met, and the Basilica, where much of the daily work of the Domini took place, matched the Novar model, with graceful columns and domes. The Library was invisible, its five floors burrowed beneath the Basilica. The Dormitories, where most of the younger Domini lived, had the utilitarian, brick design of the monasteries inhabited by the Manuelite priests. More common than the public buildings were the private homes. The Domini who had built them came from all over the world, so the buildings looked like they had been lifted directly from the four corners of the earth and transplanted here. From quaint Manuelite cottages to Novar villas, from squat Kairnin houses to turnip-domed minarets from the Sovereign Cities, the Domini had brought to life dwellings both familiar and envied in their childhood. Since the land allotted for each building had decreased with time, the larger buildings were invariably older. Particularly disconcerting was the weather-worn, deliberately simple cottage which dwarfed the newly-erected miniature palace which stood next to it. Even in the midst of all this confusion, the Order's prison drew the eye.

The smallest building in the Inner City, it had a single story built of black granite blocks. The heavy wooden doors had a similar color, not painted but hewn from some rock-hard, dark wood which had lasted for centuries. The building had only four small cells, each with a high window too narrow for a man to fit through. The Domini had never intended that their prison hold anyone for more than a few days, since they did not use incarceration as a form of punishment. While indiscretions might earn a mere censure from the Senate, all true crimes merited Expulsion. That lacked even a hair's difference from a death sentence, since the Domini hunted down and killed Renegades. Even the condemned received a chance to contemplate their crimes, so the Order always waited three days before carrying out their sentence. After that time, all Domini had the duty to kill the Renegade on sight. If the Domini seized the Renegade before then, he would be imprisoned here. Holding a magic-wielding Renegade for even a few days required something extraordinary. Eight simple obsidian pillars, no more than narrow cylinders, surrounded the structure. No Essence entered the perfect octagon marked as much by the black flagstones which surrounded the prison and formed its floor as by the obelisks. Like the ocean encompassing an island, Essence lapped at the structure without entering.

Still wondering what he would say to Aulus, Randall stepped between the black monoliths. He hesitated as he noticed that the door stood open. He would prefer it if no one knew about his meeting with Aulus. If he could come back later, speak to him through the window of his cell... Then Randall made out the barely visible black-robed form lying on the black flagstones in the shadow of the doorway. He rushed to the side of the fallen Dominus and threw back the hood.

It wasn't Aulus. He did not know whether he felt relieved or dismayed to find Yestal, one of Aulus's guards, lying there. He had the beginnings of a black eye and a knot on his head, but he'd survive. Aulus must have fought his guards physically. Leaving Yestal, Randall circled around the prison to find Jerod lying on his face within the octagon, seemingly unharmed aside from some scrapes. Aulus had neutralized him with magic. Once outside the prison grounds, he would have used a Circuit against Jerod, who had not yet reached the perimeter. Few Domini had the power to drive Essence through the octagon, a feat akin to making a river flow uphill, but the new Renegade did. Randall shook his head at the stupidity of the guards. One of them should have remained outside the octagon while the other escorted the prisoner within. Even if that one couldn't manage the trick of sending a Circuit inside, he could have maintained some advantage. Didn't they know the proper procedure? Then again, Jerod may have stayed outside and only entered once Aulus escaped and headed for the other side. Entering the octagon rather than circling around on the outside was even worse foolishness.

Aulus himself had vanished. Randall hiked up his robes and sprinted in the direction of the runaway's destination, certain that Aulus would be heading for the Hub if he was thinking rationally.

Randall had not gone far before he spotted the Renegade hurrying along one of the main boulevards. The young Senator assumed that the Dominus he had found was Aulus, since the figure had his hood up, an uncommon practice in the Inner City. Randall might have called out to him if he had not seen another Dominus heading in their direction. Instead, he forced himself to slow to a fast walk so he would not draw attention to himself or the fugitive. The stranger passed Aulus without a second look. By the time Randall could no longer see him, another Dominus had appeared. This close to the Hub, people came and went all the time, no matter what happened in the Amphitheater. Randall recognized this second Dominus as Seth, a young man who had only recently donned the black robes. Fortunately, Seth was in too much of a hurry to accost his former instructor, and Randall hoped he would not remember the encounter, lest he mention it to the wrong person. The odd chase nearly drove Randall crazy. He did not dare run or call out to Aulus where others might see. For his part, Aulus didn't slow or look back. More than once, Randall doubted it was even Aulus that he followed, especially when he turned aside instead of entering the Hub.

The oddest building among odd buildings, the Domini had built the Hub out of dozens of small domes connected to a large, central one by hallways like spokes on a wheel. These spokes had different lengths and spacings, and the domes varied in size. Scattered inside these domes, hundreds of Doorways led to towers all around the world. The cavernous central dome was even bigger than it looked, as it extended a whole story beneath the ground, where it held Doorways big enough to transport goods rather than people between major cities. The Domini sometimes called this the Chamber of Winds, as locations around the world tried to equalize pressure and temperature within that one room. Only a powerful Circuit prevented full-blown tempests from erupting. A walkway which circled the dome at ground level gave access to the spokes which connected to the smaller domes. Each of these domes contained a particular domain, a set of Doorways which might be in the same region, or might all be national capitals, or might all trade similar commodities. When distance did not matter, the Order felt free to group its outposts by other criteria.

The Dominus whom Randall followed skirted around the edge of the Hub before walking into the space between two of the outer domes. As far as Randall knew, there was nothing but empty flagstones there. Hoping it was Aulus he followed, he hurried after the black-robed man. A grinding rumble met him as he passed between the two domes. Following the sound around the left side of a third, even smaller dome, he arrived just in time to see his quarry disappear into the ground. Randall paused to stare at the gaping rectangular hole, where stone stairs led downward beneath the pavement. This could not have been here all this time: even in such a secluded area, a large hole in the ground could not go unnoticed.

Randall summoned a small globe of light and went into the darkness. The narrow stairs descended thirty feet before reaching an equally narrow hallway. As he set foot on the grey stone, a sudden blast of freezing wind cut through him. He wrapped his robe tight against the cold and pressed forward. Aside from the seams of the stone blocks, nothing marked the walls of the corridor, no niches, no sconces, no doors or cross-corridors. Beneath the cold wind, it smelled of age and stale air which had only begun to stir. Randall felt certain this hallway had been here centuries before the Domini had built the Hub right on top of it. He had begun to feel the weight of the stone pressing down on him when he reached a large iron door, just recently forced open. The small stone chamber on the other side, a room which must sit directly beneath the center of the Hub, contained nothing except Aulus and the Doorway from which the wind came.

"Aulus!" Randall shouted through chattering teeth. The Renegade turned around to face his friend.

"I hope you haven't come to stop me," Aulus said, speaking loudly to be heard above the wind.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm fleeing, of course. It's either that or face my death with dignity."

"Why shouldn't you choose dignity?" Randall asked. "You did a noble thing back there. Are you going to throw it away by running?"

"Throw what away? I didn't achieve a thing. Kulsin got what he wanted and all that's left for me is to die in disgrace."

A new thought occurred to Randall. He licked his numb lips before voicing it. "You thought you could win, didn't you? I thought you were sacrificing yourself for your nephew, but that's not it at all. You believed that speech of yours would somehow win over the Senate and vindicate you."

"That was too much to hope for, wasn't it?" Aulus said with a rueful smile. "Still, it was all I had."

"Don't do this, Aulus. If you run, you'll be remembered as a Renegade. If you go back now, turn yourself in, your ideals might live on."

"But I won't. I'm not cut out to be a martyr, Randall. For a moment there, I thought I'd have to be, but then I remembered this." He pointed to the Doorway. It opened into a dark room, lit only by the two glowing spheres accompanying the Domini on this side. Randall could make out nothing but a stone floor.

"Where does it lead?"

"To the truth. Do you have any idea how long I searched for this? Until I found it three years ago, I didn't even know for certain that it existed."

"That doesn't tell me anything."

"No, I suppose it doesn't. You know the legends of the Malwer. We call them that instead of demons and think we know something, while we really know almost nothing. Search our libraries long enough and hard enough, however, and you'll find something more, the location of their prison and the Doorway that leads to it."

"You mean this particular Doorway leads to the prison?" More than cold caused Randall to shiver now. "Have you... been there?" He whispered the last two words.

Aulus spoke as if he had heard Randall's whisper above the windstorm. "Not yet. You see, it's is one way. A ward on this side prevents any living creature from coming to the island. You can communicate with someone on the other side, but this Doorway can only send people to the prison. It can't bring them back."

"Why would anyone design it that way?"

"The other end lies in a keep watching over the prison. In the old days, we manned that keep. Any Dominus who went made a lifetime commitment to guard the Malwer. If ever the need arose for reinforcements, the entire Order could travel there in a moment, but anyone who went knew he had no means of retreat back here. And if the Malwer ever captured the Keep, they could not use it to launch an attack on us."

"You intend to go there now. Why? How can this prison help you?"

"I want to see the prison, to discover whether there's any enemy left to fear, or if we've lived for centuries frightened by a myth. If I can return with news that the prison is empty and the enemy dead, maybe we can put aside that fear and change the way we live."

"How can you come back if the Doorway's one way?"

"The prison is somewhere in this world, and I have an idea where. It may take years to find my way back, but I know I can do it. When I return, then I will accept the Order's verdict. Only I'll be able tell them the full truth before they kill me." A fierce smile broke out on Aulus's face, making him seem young despite the grey hair.

Randall had to admire him. He knew Aulus had no intention of accepting the Order's conviction; he still intended to win. "I should try to stop you."

"Thankfully you won't," Aulus said. "Can you reseal the stairway? I knew someone was behind me, so I didn't get a chance on the way in. Just place this Component in the Circuit that controls it." He constructed a simple Component that Randall had no trouble memorizing.

"Good luck, Aulus."

"You too." Without another word, Aulus let his globe of light vanish and stepped through the doorway. A spiral stairway leading upward appeared out of the darkness when Aulus reignited his glowing sphere. When the Renegade had vanished up the stairway, Randall went about the business of eliminating the evidence. He burned the memory from the room, even though he doubted any Dominus would find much: neither he nor Aulus had done much here. Then he headed back to the corridor, closing the iron door behind him. Just before he reached the steps, he heard bells clanging in alarm, signaling the Order's discovery of Aulus's escape.

Once outside he completed the Circuit which closed the opening. The top steps rose, stone grating against stone until they were level with the pavement, just eight parallel flagstones. Randall could no longer see the Circuit. In order to open the staircase again he'd have to place the Component exactly, without reference to the Circuit he was completing. He had never heard of any means to hide a Circuit, and he wondered how, and why, the early Domini had done it. As an added precaution, Randall wiped clean the memories around here as well. Satisfied that no one in the Order would be able to discover where Aulus had gone, he emerged from the maze of the Hub's exterior. Outside, Domini hurried in all directions with their hoods carefully lowered to show faces. He ran into Yestal almost immediately.

"Are you all right?" Randall asked, seeing his ripening black eye.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. The Renegade slammed me into a wall, but I'll live. I'm luckier than Jerod."

"Jerod? What happened to him?"

"Didn't you hear? He's dead."

"Dead?" Randall stopped breathing for a moment. Jerod had been alive when he left him by the prison. He couldn't have misjudged that, could he?

"Yeah. We can't be certain what happened. I was out cold, and there's no Essence near the prison to leave memories, but they've examined the body. It looks like dark magic killed him." Yestal's voice lowered and became thick with his clipped Kairnin accent as he rushed ahead. "Aulus used Necromancy an' tore his soul clean from his body."

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This 5,494 word chapter is an excerpt from a 90,110 word novel.

There were lots of interesting things in this chapter. I had to play out the end of Aulus's trial, and then do something with him. In the course of that, I showed a little bit about how the Domini work, introduced the concept of Voids--places which are devoid of the Essence which the Domini use for magic--even though I wasn't using the term yet. I also talked a bit about the Hub, which was a natural outgrowth of the concept of Doorways. Of course most of them would lead back to the Order's city, and placing them all in one building makes travel easier and keeps them more manageable. I'm still a bit uncertain of Aulus's departure to the Malwer's prison. I think it makes sense, but there are some things I intend to do in the revision that will come when I combine Fire and its sequel.

The most interesting thing in this chapter is a casual mention of the Necromantic cult which Kulsin destroyed thirty years ago. I was casting about for some specific point of contention between the two, and the different ways they'd deal with a threat like the Necromancers struck me as a particularly good one. I think I'd already played a bit with the concept of a society counter to the Domini which studied Necromancy, and one of the more interesting aspects of it is that it would have difficulty recruiting boys with the ability, what with the Domini snapping them up and likely noticing if they started to disappear, but the Domini might not even notice if someone started training girls with the ability. That developed into the Necromancers, and when Aulus and Kulsin started to argue over an encounter with them, I knew I had to write about that incident. Which I did.

The Rest of the Story: The whole of Fire can be found on my Writings page in PDF format, while the portion of the story that's been published on this blog so far is on this page.

Here it is, the next chapter of Fire. Here I finally return to Victor's point of view. Remember him? He's my main character. Originally, this, or something like it, was going to be my second chapter (or maybe my third). Of course, this was before I knew all the details about the conflicts among the Domini, or started a war between the Novari and the Orcs, or discovered that Lucia was developing her abilities early. So I got a little sidetracked along the way!

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Chapter 15
Trials
Victor followed the Dominus. He did not ask where they were going, since an Initiate did not question a Dominus, but such prohibitions did not prevent him from wondering at the morning’s events. The Dominus had woken him up only a few minutes ago, well before his normal rising time, and simply gestured that he should follow. They traveled down a long hallway of gray marble walls and tiled floor, flanked by plain wooden doors on one side and tall, narrow windows of glass on the other. Though the sun had not yet risen, the sky had grown gray and Victor could see without the aid of the small globe of light which hovered near the Dominus’s head. The Initiate could have summoned a similar globe himself, but he could only practice magic with a Dominus’s permission, and his escort still had not said a single word this morning.

The black-robed figure that towered over him would have been imposing except for the ungainliness which the robes failed to hide. The hunched shoulders and plodding step did much to detract from the awe that Domini usually inspired. Most people would not have noticed, but Initiates spent considerable time with the Domini. Victor thought he recognized him as one of his instructors, but without ever seeing his face nor even hearing his voice yet today, he could not be certain. Any number of Domini could be tall and gangly.

The sun finally emerged, casting long shafts of light through the windows and causing Victor to blink in the illumination. A few figures began to appear in the hall, all students in robes of white, yellow, or blue, each color representing a different year. Victor had had lessons with all of them. At first his lessons had contained only white-robed students, then yellow began to predominate. Recently, as many of his classmates wore blue as yellow. He thought he knew the meaning behind this development. Having traversed the length of the hallway containing the sleeping cells, they left behind the sunlight and entered a maze of corridors which Victor had never explored before. He wondered briefly at his lack of curiosity, which he had never lacked for before coming here. Soon the only illumination came from the Dominus’s shining globe. They came to a stop before a door as plain as any of the others stretching down the corridor in either direction. The Dominus opened the door with magic, startling Victor, since he hadn’t realized that magic had sealed the door shut. He hadn’t seen it used for that before. With a gesture, the black-robed man indicated that Victor should enter. He did so with some trepidation at whatever secret required magic to guard it.

The room was even smaller than Victor’s sleeping cell, and completely void of any opening save the door by which they entered. Only the Dominus’s steadily glowing ball provided any light, a long streak from the door to the wall opposite. That door-shaped beam illuminated the only furniture, two plain wooden chairs facing each other across a plain wooden table. On the small, low-lying table stood a silver cup.

“Sit,” the Dominus said. Victor jumped on hearing the Dominus speak for the first time today. The Initiate did not hesitate to take a chair, and his guide sat down across from him, the glowing sphere taking up station above the table, where it brightened to provide as much light as a lamp tree.

“Drink,” the Dominus said.

Victor picked up the goblet before disobedience to the Dominus even occurred to him. In fact, from the time the Domini had brought him here, obedience to them had come so naturally that he had never questioned it. Now he hesitated. What did the cup hold? He stared at the clear liquid, then looked at the Dominus, who did not say anything but leaned forward in his seat, ready. For what?

Drink, came the urgent command. Though Victor didn’t know where it came from, it contained such force that he found himself tilting his head back to drain the cup before he could think about it anymore. The contents were tasteless and lukewarm. Just water, Victor thought, until the bitter aftertaste filled his mouth. Poison?

He waited almost patiently for some effect. The Dominus waited too, watching him without saying anything. After a few minutes, Victor began to think that it had not been poison after all.

“What did you give me?” he asked at last.

“Something to counteract the drug you’ve been ingesting for the past year, up until three days ago. It’s begun to clear your body, but this should wake you up now, ” the Dominus replied.

“Drug? What drug?”

“It’s called Redleaf. The Sovereign City of Maro makes a fortune harvesting it, unaware that we’re their largest customer.”

“What does it do?” Victor asked, his throat parched and his hands damp. An effect of the antidote?

“Redleaf has the powerful effect of making people more pliable. It doesn’t make them obedient, exactly, but it can make them... open to suggestion. When they are told something often enough they begin to believe it to be absolute truth. This is mostly true in general, but this particular drug enhances the effect. It also has the interesting effect of suppressing normal emotional responses. Or you could view this as an aspect of its primary effect: making someone susceptible to an outside influence requires muting his natural inclinations.” The Dominus paused, and his next words lacked the lecturing tone of a moment ago. “Do you understand what this means?”

“It means,” Victor said, “that you brought me here against my will and drugged me to keep me under control.” Anger had replaced fear, neither of which he had felt in the last year. They came like wind driving through fog, stronger for having been absent so long. Although he remembered the previous year, it felt like a dream, parts of it exaggerated while others had blurred. He could not recall the basics of his daily life, what he had eaten, where he had slept, who he had been. Bits and pieces came to mind, but no consistent whole. He could recall his lessons in uncanny detail, every word he had heard, every bit of magic he had imitated. It was as if he had gone to sleep the night of his coming of age and awoken here, this knowledge in his head and a year--was it a year?--gone from his life. The Order had taken him, filled his mind with this knowledge for their purposes without a care for what he or anyone else wanted. His family must think him lost, never to return. Could he return? A Circuit came to mind, a flow of magic which could burst the door apart. Another, which could kill, followed, a necessary condition for the first.

“Do you know why you are here, Victor?” the Dominus asked.

Victor paused, thoughts of returning home held in abeyance. He had to think before committing some insane act. Like murder. Trying to recall what the Dominus had asked, Victor answered, “I’m being trained.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know for sure. You’ve instructed me in magic. I’ve also learned about culture and history, the parts which only the Order knows. And I remember that you taught a class about dangerous creatures, ‘threats to humanity,’ you called them.”

“So I’ll ask you again: what are you being trained for?”

Victor knew the answer. He had already begun to suspect it, though he still hesitated to voice it. “You want me to... join the Order, to become a Dominus.”

“Exactly, Victor. You have the rare ability needed to become one of us. That is why we brought you here and trained you. It’s why we want you to remain.”

“You ‘want’ me to remain? Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice. Sometimes it’s not the choice you expect or particularly want, however.”

“What is my choice now?”

“You can decide to stay, to complete your training and become a Dominus. Or you can decide not to.”

Victor did not think he would be allowed to leave, whatever he chose. Most likely they would kill him if he refused to stay. He could try to escape, but what chance did he have? Even if he could get past this Dominus, more lived on the island. And “island” summed up everything he knew about where he was. He had no idea how to get off of it, or even which direction to go if he did. “Why should I stay?” he asked, thinking hard.

“Some stay out of duty. The Domini protect humanity from threats most people cannot even imagine. Some want knowledge. We know more about this world’s history and nature than anyone else, even the Philosophers. Others hunger for power. The Domini are feared and respected everywhere in the world. Most, however, become Domini for the magic. You have just begun to learn what you can do, just begun to see the world as only the magic can reveal it. Can you give that up now?”

He tried to imagine life without the magic and failed. Curiosity, ambition, and duty were all strong reasons, but they paled in comparison to the magic. Like a child learning to walk, the magic seemed strange and wonderful but natural and right as well. He could not go back to the mundane world where only his eyes saw and only his hands touched. “What price must I pay for the magic?” Victor asked, feeling his anger begin to drain. What price wouldn’t he pay for it?

Randall laughed, a chuckle that seemed more strained than cheery. “You’re bargaining like a Kairnin, Victor. Or a politician.” His mirth died out quickly. “A Dominus’s first loyalty is to the Order. We have the awesome responsibility to protect humanity from threats they do not even know exists. We cannot let other loyalties distract us from that responsibility. To become a Dominus you must give up all ties to your country and to your family.” The Dominus watched as Victor absorbed the severity of the price. “We likewise discourage friendships outside of the Order, and forbid Domini from marrying or fathering children, or even taking a lover. All these things divide loyalties and steal time. We are your only family and friends, now. If you decide to stay, that is.”

“That is a lot to give up,” Victor replied.

“Usually, Victor, an Initiate such as yourself would complete three years of training before this moment came. By that time, you’d have known for a year why we trained you. You’d have grown so used to the idea of becoming a Dominus that, even without the Redleaf, you would be eager to continue. You’ve lived here for less than a year, and you’ve had to figure out for yourself why we brought you here. I cannot expect you to make this decision easily, but you must make it now.”

Victor did not decide out of duty, or a hunger for knowledge, or a desire for power. Not even the pull of the magic decided him. He decided what he did because he knew that, whatever the Dominus might say, he had no choice. Those whom the Domini took never returned, so whatever alternative the Dominus seemed to be offering, it was not freedom. Victor wondered how many of the other students had stayed for the same reason; they could not have missed the obvious threat. “I’ll stay,” he said.

“Welcome, Acolyte Principius,” the Dominus said. He tossed his hood back, and for only the second time in his life, Victor saw what a Dominus looked like. It seemed impossible that the hood could have hidden such bright red hair. While long and somber, the man’s face wore a small, uncertain smile, which broadened when he reached out his hand and, after a moment of confusion, Victor took it. “My name is Randall,” the Dominus said.

Victor tried to grasp the significance of this Dominus dropping the mystery with which they usually shrouded themselves, giving his name and shaking hands as if with an equal. Victor’s own status had drastically changed, it seemed. “I’m an Acolyte? What is that?” he asked.

“Acolyte is the next stage in your training. You’ve committed to the Order now, so you will be trained in a different manner. You should learn much more rapidly from here on. Then again, you’ve learned very rapidly already, so maybe not.”

“You said that most Initiates have three years of training, while I’ve received only one. Why the difference?”

“As I said, you’ve learned very quickly. Your Philosopher tutor taught you many of the things in which we would have instructed you. Such an education leaves particular gaps, but we’ve filled most of them since you came. You’ve also learned magic more rapidly than any of our other pupils. To you, it seems to come... naturally.” The Dominus’s smile flickered and vanished. Victor tensed, realizing that something unusual was happening. Randall lowered his voice to continue, “Or as if you’ve been trained before.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Aulus tells me that he has not taught you, and I believe him. He’s not the only one who could train you, though.”

“Train me in what? What does Aulus have to do with this? Does he know something about the Domini?”

Randall shook his head. “No, not your brother. Your uncle. He’s a Dominus.”

Victor nodded. Of course. The uncle of whom he had often heard, whom the Domini had taken, would have ended up one of them.

“That’s beside the point. What I want to know is what you knew of the magic before you came here. Did anyone instruct you in it?”

“No. How could they? I thought only the Domini knew anything about magic.”

“That’s mostly true.” Randall frowned at him, but when Victor didn’t say anything else, he said, “All right, I believe you’re telling the truth. You’re standing on dangerous ground, however. This should explain it better.”

Randall reached into a hidden pocket and drew out a glass globe, which he handed to Victor. The flawless sphere just filled the palm of his hand. Its light-bending shape distorted everything seen through it, twisting them all around a central point.

“Do you know what that is, Victor?”

“It’s a piece of glass,” he replied. Although there was nothing extraordinary about the shape or material, someone had bound a Circuit to it. It’s complexity overshadowed any Circuit with which Victor had dealt thus far, but he suspected that the Domini used far more complex Circuits on a daily basis.

“It’s more than that. Can you activate the Circuit inside?”

Victor could see the gap in the Circuit and make out the required Component with ease. A simple bit of magic completed it, causing Essence to flow through the orb. It began to flicker with red, green, and blue light, beams of which shot out and coalesced into an image above the orb, the head and shoulders of a man on a level with Victor’s own head.

The man looked straight through him. He looked much like Victor’s father, sharing the same bold nose and dark eyes that marked the Principii. When he spoke, the voice sounded similar, though hoarse and too loud.

“Victor, do you know who I am?”

“You’re--”

“My name is Aulus Principius. I’m your uncle.” Victor realized that the image could not hear or see him, so he kept his mouth shut. “It was I who brought you to the Order; you may have seen my face that night. You and your sister are causing no end of trouble for the Domini.” His sister? What had Lucia done? “Fortunately for you, the blame for that trouble will fall on me, but it’s already affecting you both. You were raised to Acolyte early because of it. I’m told that you are ready, but the Order has its own motivations for raising you this early. An Initiate has certain protections, whereas an Acolyte must accept many of the risks and responsibilities of a Dominus. The Senate will soon summon you to testify as to whether I taught you what you know of the magic. You must lie and tell them that I did teach you.”

“Lie?” Victor asked. He looked to Randall, who was also watching the image. The Dominus’s eyes had gone very wide, and he seemed to be whispering to himself. Victor only caught the word “crazy.”

The image continued, “I know that it is not in your nature to lie, especially in a legal proceeding, but you must. I’m not sure you understand what they suspect of you, although I’m sure Randall has told you the same thing as he’s told me, that you’re too good with the magic, too able. If they think that your talent comes from my teaching, they’ll blame me, but if it seems to come from some other source, they’ll go after you. The Order can be remarkably close-minded about such things. They’ll see the threat, not the good, that comes from your ability, and there will be an Inquisition which can only end in your death. If they believe I’m responsible, they’ll try to hurt me, but I’ll survive.” Aulus gave a brief smile. “Kulsin has been trying to get rid of me for years. If he can convince the Order that I taught you before you came here, they’ll probably force me out of the Senate with a severe reprimand. That’s as far as it’ll go. I have enough friends left that they’ll never get the votes to Expel me.

“The important thing to remember about the lie is to keep it simple. Say that for two years before we took you, I visited your home several times a month, but not on any regular days. I taught you the basics of the magic. If asked specifics, just mention the things you’ve learned here already. Seeing Essence, building Circuits, applying them to move objects and the like.

“Which leaves just one more thing. From now on, you have to learn slower. You can escape suspicions once, but you might not be so lucky a second time. If you just slow down from here on out, it’ll look like you’ve reached the end of your premature teaching and it should allay their fears. Good luck.”

The image fell silent, then vanished a moment later. Victor sat there with the globe in his hand, then said, “Did you know what it contained?”

“Not until now,” Randall replied. “I knew Aulus intended to do something to protect you, but not this.”

“He said he could survive this. Can he?”

“Teaching someone who is not an Initiate yet is a serious offense.” Randall licked his lips. “But if anyone can survive it, Aulus can. He’s been parrying Kulsin’s accusations since he was an Acolyte.”

Victor could tell that Randall didn’t lie well. “Who’s Kulsin?”

“Kulsin is a Dominus, a member of our Senate who is about a decade older than your Uncle. The two of them have very different ideas about what our Order is and what it should be. Aulus believes that we should do away with many of our ancient practices, while Kulsin believes it’s important to hold onto our traditions.”

“So they’re political opponents?”

“Yes, and more. There’s some very personal animosity between them as well.”

Victor had grown up hearing about the politics of Novaro, no matter how much his mother tried to shield him from it. His father had never tried very hard. Though he had heard stories of vicious struggles, even assassinations, he had never been a pawn in anyone’s fight before, nor had anyone ever asked Victor to betray him. The young Acolyte stifled a yawn, too tired to reason clearly. The mental and emotional strain must have worn him out.

The Dominus realized his plight. “The counteragent you’ve been given stimulates your mind briefly, but when it’s done it leaves you exhausted. Now is no time for you to deal with a moral dilemma. I should show you to your new quarters.”

“New quarters?” Victor asked.

“Yes. Now that you’re an Acolyte, your life will change significantly. The Acolytes live on the other side of the Outer City, in an area where you haven’t been allowed to enter before. I’ll show you where you’ll be living now.”

The Dominus did not give Victor a chance to go back to his old cell and get his meager belongings. Instead, he led Victor further down the hallway by which they had entered, the glowing ball of light still following, until they came to a wooden door at the end. Magic sealed this door as well. The Dominus unlocked it to reveal a room even smaller than the one they had just left, inhabited solely by a marble door frame in the center, two columns resting on a marble block and supporting a lintel. Sitting in the middle of the room, it should not have led anywhere but to the other side of the room. Instead, sunlight poured through the doorway, flowing from a brightly lit room Victor could see on the other side of it.

Randall sealed the door behind them and then spoke, “Some Domini think this is showy, a needless waste of resources. Others consider this an important rite of passage. It’s called a Doorway. Go ahead and take a closer look, just don’t use any magic.”

All thought of his tiredness gone for the moment, Victor went closer to the Doorway and put his arm through it, which went in without any difficulty, no different than if he had put his arm through a normal doorway. He pulled his arm back out, still not noticing anything unusual. He circled around the Doorway to find blackness filling the frame on the other side. He reached out his hand to put it through the frame again, but it would not go. Victor did not feel anything when he touched the blackness, he simply could not push his hand any further. Thinking of this, he noticed that the pillars were cut in half so that they appeared flat from this side. The lintel and the marble base ended at the same plane. It did not seem as though the Doorway would be structurally stable without the other half. Puzzled, Victor circled around to the front side.

Randall smiled at him, clearly amused at his behavior. “We developed the ability to make Doorways over seven centuries ago. It was then and is still our greatest innovation, allowing us to consolidate our Order in one location and giving us instantaneous travel and communication to anywhere we can place a Doorway. Our income comes from letting our agents around the world use them to transport goods more quickly and reliably than other merchants can. Of course, if we’re not careful to avoid overdoing this, we might reveal our particular advantage.”

“How do they work?” Victor asked.

“The basic concept is simple. Build an ordinary door frame, then magically reinforce its nature as a doorway. That part requires a complex process that only a few Domini really understand, but if it’s done right, you can cut the frame in half and it remains a doorway. You can place the two halves on opposite ends of the world, and traveling between them would remain as simple as stepping through an ordinary door.”

“Are there a lot of them?”

“We have hundreds of Doorways. Each of those towers we build in every large city has one. Most of them terminate on this island, in a central location, so we can travel from city to city through a single hub.”

“So that’s what’s in those towers,” Victor said.

“They also have a few sleeping quarters and some supplies, but mainly they give us a place to put our Doorways.”

“Where does this one go?”

“Just to the other side of the island, to the Acolytes’ quarters. Go ahead and step through it. Don’t use any magic while you’re doing so, though. That can disrupt the Doorway and break the link.”

Victor hesitated, then squaring his shoulders, he closed his eyes and stepped through. He had to open his eyes to confirm he was on the other side. He had not felt anything. Randall followed him, and Victor noticed that the accompanying light had vanished. “This way,” he said.

They left the room with its tall windows and quickly found themselves once again in inhabited hallways. It’s tiled floors and marble walls looked no different from those in the Initiates’ area. The students wandering the halls here wore red and brown robes, but Victor found the noise stranger than the colors. While Initiates only spoke to one another when necessary, several of the groups of Acolytes whom he and his escort passed appeared to just be chatting. Unlike the Initiates, who would hurriedly avert their eyes upon spying a Dominus, these young men often gave Randall a friendly nod which he returned. None of them asked about the white-robed Victor, however. Apparently even Acolytes did not simply address a Dominus.

Randall led him to a wall with regularly spaced doors and windows, flanked by a colonnade which opened up onto a courtyard, where he introduced Victor to his new room. While not large, it seemed spacious compared to his former cell. It was even bigger than his room in Novaro. The low-lying, neatly made bed occupied one corner, a small writing table and its straight-back wooden chair beside it. A clay oil lamp stood atop the table, and shelves already holding several books were mounted on the wall above that. Lying against the opposite wall was a chest of some dark wood, sitting on bare tile rather than on the rug of Manuelite design in the center of the floor. Victor most welcomed the window facing towards the courtyard, since his previous room had had no opening except the door, which had opened onto a similarly windowless hallway.

“You’ll find red robes in the chest. Go ahead and put them on. You have the rest of the day off, but tomorrow morning you’ll be called to testify at your Uncle’s trial.” As if he had not just told Victor that he faced a life and death decision tomorrow, Randall left him alone. The new Acolyte did not immediately don his red robes. The grogginess has set in again, so he lay down on the bed to rest for a few moments, which was all the time needed for him to doze off.



Victor awoke in the mid-morning, still feeling groggy from the drug. The sunlight seeping through the closed shutters had not awoken him, but the increasingly hot and stuffy air of the room had. Groaning, Victor rolled out of the bed and went to open the shutters. A cool breeze filled the room immediately, refreshing both the atmosphere and the occupant. Victor discarded any thought of going back to bed. His room, along with ten others just like it, sat on one side of a colonnaded courtyard which reminded Victor of the peristylium in his home in Novaro. Grass and a few trees filled the sunlit space. Students dressed in red and brown robes sprawled on the ground underneath, some reading while others apparently slept. An animated discussion had broken out among a group of three students, two in red and one in brown. Their voices carried to Victor, though he couldn’t follow their highly technical conversation.

Seeing their colored robes reminded Victor of his own white one. He headed over to the chest and opened it to find new boots, undergarments, several red robes, and a small wooden case. Victor put on the boots and one of the robes, unsurprised that everything fit perfectly. He opened the case next. Inside lay on odd quill pen and several sheets of parchment, but no ink jar. The lack puzzled him until he took a closer look at the pen, discovering that it held a complex Circuit which kept a small reserve of ink and dispensed it in a controlled manner. Even more interesting, the other end could be brushed against any parchment and absorb the ink upon it, replenishing the pen’s supply and erasing the writing on the parchment. Victor brought the pen and parchment to his desk where he experimented with it and watched the Circuit at work.

Once he had learned all that he could from the pen, he took down one of the books from above his desk and opened it. Complex diagrams illustrating advanced Circuits greeted him at once. Although he had seen bits of this notation before, he had never seen anything this involved. He spent some time trying to puzzle through one of the diagrams, sorting out what the different parts did. This proved time consuming, since whenever he came across a symbol he didn’t recognize, he had to rifle through the book’s pages until he found it. Then he’d spend long minutes deciphering how that Component worked, and even longer minutes figuring out how it fit into the Circuit. The whole thing began to give him a headache. If his uncle said he was so gifted, why was he having such a difficult time making sense of this?

Still hunched up over his desk, he didn’t notice at first when the bell began to ring. It took the sound of many people moving and the following silence to get his attention. He went to the window just in time to see the last red robe vanishing down a corridor. Victor vaguely recalled that a similar bell had rung to call the Initiates to lunch. His hazy memories of last year had nearly made him forget this highly practical bit of information. With a growling stomach reminding him that he had not eaten breakfast today, Victor hurried out the door and after the departing Acolytes.

He caught up with them and took a position several paces behind the last person in the informal procession, who turned to look at him then quickly looked away. Victor almost asked him what was going on, but he had become so accustomed to the silence of the Initiates that speaking now seemed awkward. The other Acolytes had no such difficulty, and they sounded boisterous to Victor’s ear. He had forgotten what casual human socialization felt like. It should not have surprised him to experience anxiety rather than eagerness at his return to it. He had never been comfortable around strangers, and after being an Initiate for a year, nothing seemed stranger than these unaccountably loud Acolytes.

The bell had been a call to lunch after all, and Victor filed into a large dining hall with the others. Like the Initiates, the Acolytes came from all over the world, from every province of the Novar Empire, from Kairn, from the Sovereign Cities, and, most often, from Manuel. Those in red and brown robes freely mingled. While their ages varied, most seemed older than him, if not by much. Over fifty students gathered together here, less than half the number of the Initiates, and they didn’t come close to filling the room. The vaulted ceilings and tiled floors, lit by windows high in the walls, gave the massive room an uninviting feel. Victor joined the line leading up to a window connected to the kitchen. A slave there handed him his lunch, a tray containing a bowl of soup, some cheese and fresh bread, and a cup of wine. Aside from the wine instead of water, he thought the meal resembled what the Initiates ate. It was plain fare compared to what he had eaten in Novaro, but better than what most of Novar Plebeians ate. Victor watched the other Acolytes take accustomed places at the long tables. He had no place here, so he took a position near the end of a table, several seats down from the nearest person. No one seemed eager to talk to him, and he could not work up the courage to approach any of them. It didn’t take long to realize that they had no qualms in talking about him. Of course they had noticed a newcomer to their ranks. Those just a few seats from him tried to be subtle, but he noticed the glances cast in his direction which quickly turned aside when they saw him looking back, and the voices which dropped as the topic of conversation shifted. Those further away did not hide their curiosity as well, looking and pointing and talking, sometimes whispering, sometimes not. He only caught bits, “white robes”...“less than a year”...“Principius’s nephew”...“testify at the trial”...

Victor hunched over his meal, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. He had never liked the public attention he had received as an Imperial prince, and this was even worse. He hurried through his meal and waited for his fellow students to lose interest so he could leave unnoticed. They never did, so after a while he simply stood up, letting the tray lie where it was, and left.

Back in his room, Victor shut the door and windows, preferring a stuffy room over curious stares. He opened the book he had been studying before, but found himself unable to concentrate on it. Standing, he began to pace back and forth, a mere four steps in either direction due to his limited floor space. He had always hated being the center of attention. No, that was not entirely true. Like anyone else, he had enjoyed praise, had even gotten annoyed when his accomplishments went unnoticed. On the other hand, he had liked to slip into the background whenever he had wanted, to only receive attention when he had allowed it. He had not felt this way during the last dreamy year, but with the Redleaf gone, he found he had not changed much. The sort of attention he now received, unsought, even undeserved, disturbed him as much as it ever had. The averted eyes and whispering behind his back would drive him as paranoid as Aulus. His brother, not his uncle. He did not know how paranoid his uncle was.

Which brought him back to the more important question. The elder Aulus had asked him to lie, to perjure himself in a trial so he could protect his own skin by condemning his uncle. Aulus Principius might want to make the noble sacrifice, but that didn’t make Victor’s part in it any less ignoble. Victor had never thought of himself as the virtuous hero, but he had always believed himself a decent person. Lying to protect himself while sacrificing his kin went beyond immoral. It sounded like the improbable plot of some tragic play, where the audience eagerly awaited the anti-hero’s painful demise at the end. How could his uncle have put him in this dilemma? Victor shook his head angrily. Why did Victor think he had to help his uncle, anyway? He had never even met the man, whom the Domini had separated from his family almost forty years ago. Yet his political fights had thrust his nephew into this uncomfortable position among the Acolytes. If Aulus Principius had told his nephew to lie, why should Victor feel obligated to find a better way? He certainly didn’t owe his uncle anything. Then again... how certain was he that his uncle did want him to lie? The young Acolyte only had the floating image and Randall’s word as evidence. What made him think that Randall really was Aulus Principius’s friend, rather than an enemy out to destroy him with his nephew’s testimony?

Victor was still pacing when the bell rang for supper. Though his stomach rumbled and his legs ached, neither persuaded him to go and face the Acolytes’ scrutiny again. Instead, he continued to pace across the same patch of floor even as the light leaking through the shutters began to fade. By then he did not need the light to know the number of steps between the walls.



Victor fought back a yawn as he entered the indoor amphitheater early the next morning. The Senate almost never called Acolytes to testify before them. They had not even permitted an Acolyte to enter the Inner City in over decade, and then they had executed him rather than allowing him to leave--hardly a reassuring thought. Victor hoped no one here wanted him dead, but he didn’t feel hopeful. If my Uncle’s right, the only thing in my favor is that this Kulsin’s more interested in killing him than me, he thought grimly.

Randall conducted Victor to stand at the right of the raised podium which faced the Senate and its audience. A single Dominus, a gray-haired gentleman with a well-trimmed beard, sat in a chair on the dais behind the podium. About fifty men, whom Victor assumed to be Senators, sat in the four rows of curved stone benches arranged in a semicircle on the amphitheater floor. Randall took a seat on the front row near the center. Aulus Principius had a seat on the front left, between two Domini who must be his guards. On the front right sat an elderly, mostly bald Kairnin with bug-like eyes. Behind them sat the remaining Senators in uneven groupings of unknown political meaning, and behind them rose several tiers of seats, holding space for at least a thousand observers. Domini occupied every seat, their hoods tossed back so their diverse origins stood out. Sun-darkened Kairnins looked lighter next to the black skin of the Daurentian nomads from the Novar Empire’s northwest desert. The pale skin and fair hair of the grassland dwellers from the more eastern northern reaches of the Empire could not have looked more different. Victor wondered why people living in neighboring regions had such different looks. The southerners seemed roughly similar in comparison. Though the few who looked distinctly Novar had darker complexions, only a fellow Novar would have noticed them among the Manuelites or citizens of the Sovereign Cities. Despite the variety of faces, the black robes gave them a frightening uniformity of appearance. He could not help feeling self-conscious in his red robes, as obvious as a cardinal among crows.

A low murmur had moved through the spectators and the Senators themselves when he had entered, but the gray-haired Dominus on the dais brought silence simply by standing. “The Acolyte Victor Julius Principius has been called to testify by Dominus Kulsin of the Restal. Acolyte, you have been summoned to give your testimony before the Senate of the Domini. To speak falsehood here is to forfeit your life.” Aulus didn’t tell me that, Victor thought. From what his uncle had told him, telling the truth would kill him too. “Domine Kulsin, you may ask your questions.”

The presiding Dominus returned to his seat as the aging Kairnin Senator rose from his. He took several measured steps towards Victor, stopping only when he stood much too close, where he could look down on the Acolyte.

“Your name is Victor Principius?” he asked.

“Yes,” Victor answered, as clearly as the tightness in his throat allowed. The Dominus loomed over him at an angle that let him see the hairs in his nostrils. He turned his eyes towards the assembled audience, resisting the insane urge to giggle.

“You are the son of Marcus Julius Principius, the brother to the Novar Emperor an’ heir to the throne?”

“Yes,” Victor intoned, wondering whether the Emperor had really named his father as the official heir.

“Then the Dominus Aulus Julius Principius is your Uncle?”

“Yes,” Victor said. He recognized the repetitive questioning as a lulling tactic, and not an impressive one for such a supposedly deadly political opponent.

“Have you seen this Dominus before today?”

At least the questioning had turned serious. “Yes.”

Kulsin’s bulging eyes went very wide as they focused on Victor. “Tell us about the las’ time you saw him.”

“I saw him when I was... taken.” Victor had almost said “kidnapped.” “His obscuring illusion slipped and I saw his face.”

Kulsin grimaced, the unpleasant expression making his face even more gruesome. Victor knew better than to congratulate himself on his little dodge, which had done nothing to help matters. Kulsin leaned over him, so that his wide-open eyes came very close to Victor’s own eyes, which only force of will kept from blinking. “What about before then? Did you ever meet Aulus before that time?”

Lie.

“What did you say?”

“I said,” Kulsin replied, “did you ever meet Aulus before you were taken? Did he reveal himself to you? Tell you about the Domini or--” Kulsin pulled himself up short before he gave Victor’s testimony for him.

You must do what Aulus told you and lie!

“But who...?” Victor fell silent. Hearing voices had to be a bad sign.

“Aulus! We’re talkin’ about your uncle Aulus! Stop tryin’ to avoid the question!” Kulsin looked furious, his dark skin flushed and his bug eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. He did not raise his voice, though it became sharper. “Did you meet this Dominus before your comin’ of age?”

Victor no longer tried to meet Kulsin’s eyes, instead looking towards his uncle, who sat without moving except for what Victor thought was a slight nod. Lie, lie, lie! came the emphatic command inside his head.

Looking down at Kulsin’s tightly woven sandals, Victor spoke his uncle’s death sentence, “Yes.”

---

This has been a 6,953 word chapter of a 90,110 word novel.

This is a low point for Victor. Okay, so he's only had two chapters, but still! The main reason I put him through this is I wanted to give him an early experience of shame and failure. This will haunt him. Nor do I think it will be the only such failure that will. The other reason for this is that I wanted him to finish up his training early, with a two year break between the end of Fire and its sequel, rather than the four years it would normally take to finish Dominus training.