Invitation to the Magic Tower (2)
Three days later, the date of the Magic Tower's invitation arrived.
Still feels like a dream.
Ellen stood before the gate leading into the Magic Tower.
This is only my second time here, isn't it?
The first visit had left him with nothing but bad memories. This was the very place where he had been held before his exile to Enis.
But this second visit will be a good one.
He fully intended to put every last scrap of his ability on display.
"Remi Veritas?"
Ellen turned toward the voice calling his name. A mage who had come out from the Tower stood waiting.
"That would be me."
"I am Deb, assigned to guide you today. The Tower Master is waiting, so you'd best keep up."
Deb strode past Ellen and headed into the Tower without a second glance—as if he barely registered him at all.
Honestly, Tower Master… Why invite some failure who couldn't even pass the Magic Tower exam?
As far as Deb was concerned, Ellen was nothing more than an incompetent mage who had washed out of the exam and somehow scraped together a bit of fame. He couldn't understand why the Tower was making such a fuss over someone like that. And being stuck as the man's guide was the part he hated most of all.
Lord Titermir will set him straight today.
Ellen had expected this kind of reception long before he arrived. Their arrogance was incurable. Wearing a faint smile, he stepped into the Magic Tower.
The moment he entered, the sight of the interior left him briefly stunned.
The scene he had only ever dreamed of now stretched out before his eyes.
As a prisoner, he had been hauled straight down to the dungeons beneath the Tower. In truth, this was the first time in his life he had ever seen the lobby.
Incredible.
The interior more than lived up to the Magic Tower's reputation as a sanctuary for mages.
Light magic illuminating the lobby felt almost expected. The temperature inside adjusted itself automatically. Interconnected stairways shifted their positions from moment to moment, and robed mages hurried this way and that along them. With the mage evaluation period approaching, every one of them wore the look of someone completely absorbed in their work.
Perhaps because it had been his long-held wish, genuine admiration slipped free of him—as if he had forgotten his real age entirely.
Of course. No mage who sees this place fails to be moved.
He himself, the first time he had come here, had been unable to tear his eyes from the lobby.
To a mage, the Magic Tower was a goal in itself. And this lobby was the very symbol of that Tower.
Deb squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, then whipped his head around to look at Ellen.
"Come up here."
He stepped onto a low circular platform at the center of the floor as he spoke. A levitation magic circle was inscribed across its surface.
Tak.
Wheeeeing.
The moment Ellen climbed aboard, the platform rose into the air.
It was reserved exclusively for ascending to the upper floors, where the high-ranking mages kept their laboratories. When a complete stranger rode it up, the mages below turned to stare in open curiosity.
"Who is that, going up to the upper floors?"
"I heard the Tower sent him an invitation. Seems it was true."
"Him?"
"You know—the war hero who forced Vermouth to his knees."
Whoosh.
The platform reached the highest floor and came to a silent stop. Two massive doors stood before them.
Deb went to the one on the left.
Knock, knock, knock.
"I have brought Remi Veritas."
"Enter."
Deb opened the door. Ellen's eyes swept the room in a single, sharp glance.
A council chamber? So this is the high mages' council hall I only ever read about in books.
A round table filled the space, and mages sat around it. One of them rose to greet him.
"So you are Remi? Welcome to the Magic Tower. I am Louise, Tower Master of the Prode Magic Tower."
"Remi Veritas. Thank you for the invitation."
"Not at all—we are the ones who should thank you for accepting it. Please, sit."
Louise gestured toward the single empty seat.
Looks like none of them are exactly thrilled to have me here.
The mages' gazes held no warmth. A few wore open contempt.
Fair enough. Some rootless nobody rolls in, and of course they're unhappy about it.
Those glaring with the most disdain were the ones who ranked near the bottom of the high-mage council. It grated on them that Ellen—who had never even passed the Tower's exam—had become famous. Given a mage's pride, it was hardly surprising.
"We've heard a great deal about you of late. There is more than a little we are curious about. That is why we sent the invitation—so we could speak face-to-face."
Louise smiled with the gentle air of a sage who had already seen through everything.
"If that was the intent, the way the invitation was delivered was less than pleasant."
He remembered the mage who had simply left the letter at his house. Politeness had been nowhere to be found, no matter how hard he looked.
"Ahem."
The mages coughed awkwardly at his words. Provocation had been the point from the start, so there was nothing to defend. If they had meant to sour his mood, they had succeeded.
"My apologies. The friend who delivered it may have been a touch… excessive. Curious and a bit of a troublemaker, but a good child at heart. I hope you will understand."
"It's fine."
Louise gave a good-natured laugh and produced a sheet of paper. Written on it were the results of their earlier investigation into Ellen.
"Today's gathering will take the form of free conversation. Anyone may ask questions, and anyone may answer—including you, Remi."
Rustle.
Around the table, the mages each drew out papers of their own. Thin, mocking smiles curved their lips.
They've come well prepared.
He saw through it at once. Louise's talk of free conversation was only for show. In reality, they meant to hammer him without rest.
"Remi Veritas, born of Berda. Currently a Royal Strategist. Is that correct?"
Louise opened. He asked after the simplest personal details—exactly the identity the Gronlead family had prepared for him: the records of Remi, a Magic Assistant who had died young.
"Yes, that's correct."
"Your marks at the Magic Academy were nothing impressive, either."
Another mage cut in, his voice edged.
"I was a commoner. Unlike the nobles who arrived having already taken elixirs and studied their family grimoires, I started from a different place entirely."
"There are commoners who pass the Magic Tower exam and receive treatment equal to nobility, are there not?"
True enough—some commoners did pass. But only the exceptionally gifted. Most never made it through. Nobles were different. High nobles, with the elixirs, rare medicines, and early education already behind them, cleared the exam with ease. Even lesser nobles rarely struggled; the proctors were often relatives or allies of their houses.
"You know perfectly well how rare that is."
The noble-born mages shifted, looking uncomfortable. Someone was about to voice an objection when another voice cut across the table.
"It says here that with your master's help, you reached the level of a 4th Circle user. Who is this master of yours, that he could push a mediocrity who never even entered the Tower past that wall?"
The mage who had been about to complain shut his mouth.
Ellen's eyes lit up.
Hameron?
Seeing in the flesh a man he had known only through books sent something boiling up in his chest.
Of course—he became a high mage younger than anyone else.
Ellen knew the man's entire life. He had read Hameron's autobiography until he was sick of it, and more than a few of the spells he used had come from the books the man had written.
He's going straight for the heart of it.
The others had asked nothing but useless, obstructive questions meant to keep him in check. Hameron, true to form, asked what actually mattered.
"I met him by chance and received a great deal of help. But he lives in seclusion. He does not wish to be named."
"Beyond magic, you also displayed outstanding skill in strategy and tactics. Did you learn that from your master as well?"
"Yes."
Hameron was recording every word, adding his own notes in the margins as he wrote.
"You defeated Dirk, a Sword Master of the Empire. Even if he was a lower-ranked Sword Master, a 4th Circle user should not have been able to beat him so easily."
He was right. A Sword Master was generally considered the equal of a 6th or 7th Circle mage. Even a lower-ranked Sword Master stood roughly on par with a 6th Circle user. That Ellen—known as a 4th Circle master—had defeated such a man was almost impossible to believe.
"Circle rank does not account for the whole of combat strength. In battle, every circumstance must be weighed. Our lines were recovering, while the enemy was already wavering. And more than anything, he underestimated me."
A look of satisfaction crossed Hameron's face.
This one is the real thing.
What Ellen had said was basic—utterly elementary. But among the mages Hameron had dealt with of late, how many actually held to those basics?
"I see the title of war hero is no empty boast. The Magic Tower holds your abilities in high regard."
The faces of the surrounding mages hardened further. With even Hameron offering praise, they could no longer sneer openly.
Then the Tower Master shot them a look.
"We would like to propose that you become a member of the Magic Tower."
Louise stressed each word as if finally arriving at the heart of the matter.
"However—we cannot simply discard the Tower's solemn traditions. Everyone here, and everyone in this Tower, arrived by passing through the proper procedures. You can be no exception."
The benevolence that had softened the Tower Master's face was gone without a trace. In its place, an unpleasant little smile had taken root.
"Remi, you will have to prove your skill before us all. To that end, we have prepared a sparring match against an opponent of comparable ability."
At last, the words they had been aiming for. Around the round table, the mages' mouths twisted into smirks.
"That won't be necessary. I have no particular desire for the Magic Tower's recognition."
"Cough!"
The Tower Master choked on the reply. It was a reaction he had not anticipated in the slightest.
"What did he just say?"
"He has no intention of joining the Tower?"
The other mages were equally stunned. To a mage, the Magic Tower was a place one would sell one's soul to enter. Every privilege a mage could claim flowed through it. Nobles lined up to shower them with bribes for the chance to send their children here; even high nobles did not dare treat them carelessly.
And this boy is saying he will not enter?
With that thought, the Tower Master finally caught his breath. Ellen still watched him with an expressionless face.
"Did I mishear you?"
Louise asked again.
"No. You heard correctly. I have no wish to enter this place, and no particular desire to be acknowledged by it."