The Mirror Mage | ONC2022

15. The Envoy

(Author's Note: this chapter is dedicated to my new ONC friend Cocosghost and their story The Asshole App, a hilarious version of the business tycoon romance, complete with feisty drag queen)

The white walls of Rider's Keep shimmered in the distance. At last. The envoy flicked the reins, encouraging the horse to pick up its pace. It had been a long three days, particularly as he had spent much of it worrying about why he had been chosen for the task in the first place. Solstice was approaching and he'd intended to spend those three days honing his craft. The Guild Master had chosen Athol for this mission to get him out of Vierrac, but he didn't know whether it was to undermine or protect him.

Last year he had attempted a challenge, knowing full well that he wasn't ready but wanting the practice. This year, he thought he might be in with a chance. Not that he particularly wanted to replace the Guild Master, rather he was determined that his rival wouldn't. Eldor might smile and nod as much as he liked but Athol wouldn't trust him to run the Guild as far as he could throw him.

Eldor had a calculating coldness beneath his surface warmth that Athol had seen exposed a few times. From something as simple as a brusque impatience with the younger mages, particularly the girls, to something as deliberate as sabotage.

Rhillion's social order was competitive, particularly at the top, something that Athol had struggled with at first because his own world had been so hierarchical, a rigid structure based on the class you were born in to. Then he had seen how this system created opportunities for the skilled and talented. He had embraced it with enthusiasm, until he had discovered that, like any political system, it could be manipulated by the unscrupulous. Now, he kept his head down and his defenses up.

The gates were open when he arrived and he drove straight into the courtyard. By the time he dismounted, a man and a boy, both wearing cloaks, had come to greet him. Not for the first time, he wondered why anyone would choose such restricting garments to wear on a horse farm.

He realised that the adult was the Rider himself. The Rider's lips smiled but his eyes were watchful.

"Welcome to Rider's Keep, envoy. How was thy journey? We have food and wine waiting, and the boy will look after thy horse."

"That would be most welcome." Athol stretched and rolled his shoulders. No point beating around the thicket, he might as well come right to the point. "So, I hear thou have a visitor from the Mirror Worlds?"

"We do indeed, a man called Ben Lucas. He waits inside."

"The Guild Master wishes to meet him." Athol phrased the order as tactfully as he could, though, considering he had brought a coach with him, the Guild Master's wishes must have been pretty obvious. "I hope that meets with thy approval?"

"But of course. In fact, he has already expressed a wish to go to Vierrac and seek training."

"He wants to come to Vierrac?" Athol was surprised.

"He does. He has broken three of our mirrors while attempting to use the ether, and he seeks to learn more than Uldon can teach him."

"He speaks our language then?"

"Yes, though his accent is strange."

"I look forward to meeting him."

"Well, come this way. He has been helping out in the stables, but I thought it best to meet in the salon, where we have food and wine laid out."

"I thank thee, my lord, that is most thoughtful."

He followed the Rider into the largest of the white buildings which enclosed the courtyard, stamping his feet to brush the worst of the dust off his trousers as he went.

Ben waited in the salon, eager for the arrival of the Guild Master's envoy. The tempting array of bread and cheese, this time accompanied by smoked meats and some fruit which looked like a cross between an apple and a pear, had his mouth watering. A jug of dark wine smelt just like the shiraz he drank at home. He hoped he would be invited to share in the refreshments.

After his altercation with the Rider, he had moved from the tiny room in the Mage's quarters to a space above the stables. He'd given the excuse of wanting to be near the horses but the real reason was that the enclosed space with no windows was giving him nightmares. In addition, having access to the evening breezes allowed him to wash out his clothes and dry them overnight. He wasn't part of Rider's Keep so he didn't want to confuse the issue by wearing their cloaks.

Eventually he heard footsteps approaching. Ben stood.

The Rider entered first, followed by a man wearing fawn breeches with a dark blue jacket over a white shirt. A leather satchel was slung over one shoulder. He stepped forward with his hand out. "I'm pleased to meet thee, Ben Lucas. I'm-"

"Lucian?"

The other man froze. "What did thou call me?"

"This is Mage Athol, the Guild Master's envoy!" The Rider explained hastily, looked from one man to the other.

Ben felt embarrassed. Of course, it couldn't be Lucian, he'd be at least two hundred years old by now. No, despite the short chestnut curls and blue eyes this man couldn't be the same Lucian he'd seen in a portrait back on Earth. A descendant perhaps?

"I'm sorry," Ben was quick to apologise. "You look just like someone else, from my world."

"Thou come from England?"

"Yes... yes, I do."

"Tell me, how goes everything there?" Athol asked, looking eager for news.

"Well, much as usual I expect. Government scandals, ever growing traffic and soaring prices."

The other man smiled. "Much the same then. But how do thou know me? I don't remember thy face at all."

"I don't think we've ever met, not personally, but you look just like a portrait of a man I saw in my friend's manor house."

"I remember that painting! This is astonishing! Thou have visited Wentworth Manor? Tell me, how fares my mother, my sister? Do they still search for me?" The man came a step closer in his eagerness for answers. "I don't suppose thou know the Metcalfs? Charles and his sister, Jenny?"

Ben was getting a very odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Wait a moment. Are you trying to tell me you are Lucian Wentworth? I thought your name was Athol."

"It is. Lucian Athol Douglas Wentworth. I took my middle name when I came here, it was a better fit."

Ben shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but that's not possible! Lucian Wentworth vanished over two hundred years ago!!"