Little Mercies
Laszlo smiled at Brandon.
“Please, sit,” he invited. “All of you,” he added, glancing at Plum, Willam, and Obella. “There shall be time for introductions after.”
Brandon pulled a chair out and sat at the ring-shaped table. Alonzo sat, alone, in the central gap in the table. The dark wood made him look miniscule compared to the handful of people seated around the outside of the table. Plum seated herself to Brandon’s left, and Willam at his right. Obella circled the table and wordlessly sat at Laszlo’s right. She unstrapped her largest blade, a sword that seemed longer than Brandon’s armspan, and placed it sheathed on the table. Minerva entered and quickly seated herself near the door, opposite Laszlo.
“Continue, if you would, Alonzo,” Laszlo commanded once everyone was seated. “I’d just asked of your intended mission.”
Alonzo continued staring at the ground in front of him. His head hung low, and he seemed too ashamed of himself to even lift his head.
“I was…” he began. His voice quavered, and he took a deep breath. “I was intended to infiltrate the Marquisate of House Citrine,” he said eventually. Brandon startled, but bit his tongue. “You sent me to gather information on Prince-Magician Caliburn, and if he would be sympathetic to the cause.” Brandon was puzzled: he’d met the Prince-Magician of House Citrine on a few occasions. He’d seemed the archetypal noble heir, all pomp and pride. Brandon would never have suspected he harbored such radical ideals.
“And what did you find?” Laszlo asked softly.
“He is,” Alonzo replied. “He harbors heavy disdain for the nobility and the magisterium.”
“So what became your problem, then?” Laszlo’s eyebrow raised.
Alonzo’s body shook. Brandon realized he was holding back tears.
“He discovered my lies,” Alonzo answered eventually. “He found out that I was a spy.” Alonzo’s body shook again.
“How?”
“I…” his shoulders shook again. “I told him. ‘Twas too early, and I should have known that, but I thought he would accept it. I was wrong.”
“And so you turned him in.”
“Yes,” Alonzo said, his voice thick with tears. “I told the Lord Marquis that he was a traitor. I did it just so I could escape.”
“Why?”
“I valued myself over the mission.”
“Hm,” was all Laszlo said in response.
There was silence in the room for a few moments. It was broken with an audible sob from Alonzo.
“I am sorry, Laszlo,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “I was a coward.”
“What happened to the Prince?” Laszlo asked, ignoring Alonzo’s words.
“His father imprisoned him,” Alonzo answered eventually. “Liberating him will be almost impossible now.”
Laszlo waved a hand. “‘Tis no matter. We shall work around that.” He steepled his fingers and leaned his head forward. “But what shall we do with you?”
“We cannot turn him loose,” Obella chimed in. “He knows too much.”
“Agreed,” said a voice from the other side of the table. The speaker was a man perhaps in his thirties. He was gruff and compact, and he reminded Brandon of the stocky guard dogs he’d seen at a vassal house during a court trip once. His eyes were a deep, ruddy brown, flecked with gold, and his dark hair was close-cropped and well-groomed above his olive-skinned face.
“He knows where this base is, as well as the broad strokes of our plans,” the man continued.
“I am aware, Theoderic,” Laszlo said, nodding. “Turning him loose would be disastrous. But what would you have me do with him?”
“Dispose of him,” Obella said grimly. “There is too much at stake.”
“You’d have me execute him?” Laszlo asked. There was no scorn or derision in his voice. He asked the question with the same intonation he would ask if someone wanted sugar in their tea.
“Yes,” Obella answered shortly. “‘Tis the safest option.”
“Do you agree, Theodoric?” Laszlo turned back towards the bulldog-shaped man.
Theodoric nodded. “‘It would be a brutal choice, but Obella is right, it would be the safest.”
Laszlo sighed. “‘Tis brutal indeed. But I suppose-”
“You cannot!” It took Brandon a moment to realize that he’d been the one to speak, and his face immediately began burning. “I- you cannot just kill him,” he finished lamely, glancing around the table for help. One man, dark-skinned and bald, looked at him curiously, but said nothing. The rest seemed determined to avoid his gaze. Brandon looked down to the table sheepishly.
Laszlo’s moustache twitched. “Is that so?” he asked. “Then what would you have us do?”
“I- well, um,” Brandon stammered. “I do not know. But killing him like that is no better than murder!”
“Perhaps you are right, Prince-Adept,” Laszlo said thoughtfully. “There is another way.”
Minerva piped up from near the door. Her tone reminded Brandon of one of his old tutors. “Laszlo-”
He raised a hand. “I know,” he said softly. “But if our friend Vermillion objects so strongly to killing…” he trailed off.
Alonzo sobbed again. “Please, Laszlo, I will tell no one about your plans, just let me leave.”
“I know you will not, my friend.” Laszlo sighed. “I am truly sorry.”
Laszlo drew his wand. “Are there any objections to subjecting Alonzo to the Rite of Erasure?” Brandon glanced to Plum and Willam in confusion, and was met with equally blank expressions. There was silence from the table, and Laszlo sighed again. “Very well.”
Laszlo began drawing a sigil in the air. The runes were the same green-adjacent blue that his spells had been before, and Brandon felt the familiar sensation of the room growing colder. Laszlo was using yellow mana to cast this blue spell—he was casting dusk magic.
Brandon thought he noticed the smallest hint of hesitation before Laszlo closed the circle, but the circle was still perfect when he did. There was a rush of mana from Laszlo, and Alonzo collapsed instantly. The room was still for a moment, but then Alonzo sat up. Brandon felt a chill run down his spine.
Alonzo’s face was completely blank. There was not a trace of emotion in the lines of his mouth or eyes, and his gaze was unfocused. Brandon had the sudden impression of a house with the lights on, but nobody inside.
“‘Tis done,” Laszlo said simply. Minerva stood and stepped into the center of the table next to Alonzo. She helped him stand and led him out of the room, speaking soft reassurances and platitudes in Alonzo’s ear. Several of the people around the table followed her out.
“What did you do to him?” Plum asked. It was the first time she’d spoken since the tunnel. Her brow was furrowed with concern, but Brandon detected a hint of fascination as well. A shiver ran down his spine involuntarily.
“I scoured his mind,” Laszlo answered. His voice was thick with sorrow. “The Rite of Erasure leaves a person… empty.”
Brandon felt his stomach fall through the floor. “You- I- what?”
“I know it seems cruel,” Laszlo responded. “But he is still alive. He will now get the chance to build a new life for himself, free from the Fifth Law.”
“It is little better than killing him,” Theoderic said from across the room. “But the cause will be safe.”
Laszlo nodded. “Minerva will take care of him until she is able to take him away and leave him to his own devices. But the old Alonzo may as well be dead.”
“How could you do that?” Brandon asked meekly. “As you said, ‘tis hardly better than murder.”
“I thought you understood what is at stake, Prince-Adept,” Laszlo said sharply. “The lives and freedoms of every single person in this realm hang in the balance.”
“Yes, but-”
“I will not take that level of unnecessary risk, Brandon,” Laszlo interrupted. “Neither should you. If I did, the Fifth Law would have been destroyed long ago.”
Brandon had no response to that.
“Lay off the lad, Laszlo,” Theoderic called out. “He has yet to understand the reality of our situation.”
Laszlo sighed. “You are right, Theo.” He turned back to Brandon. “I apologize, Prince-Adept. This was not how I wished for your introduction to our comrades to go. We have introductions to make, do we not?” Brandon blinked at the shift in tone.
“Friends and comrades,” Laszlo began. “I would like you to meet Brandon Vermillion, dyadic magician of dawn, and Plumeria Delora, dyadic magician of gloam.” He gestured to Brandon and Plum in turn. “I do not know your third friend, here, Prince-Adept, but I trust you would not bring danger to our doorstep.” Plum tensed to Brandon’s left.
Brandon shook his head and stood. “This is my cousin, Willam Carnation. I trust him with my life.” Willam stood and bowed with a flourish, but said nothing.
“More nobles, huh?” Theoderic scoffed. “I sure hope you know what you are doing, Laszlo.”
“Brandon and Plum are two of the most talented dyadic magicians I have ever met, Theo,” Laszlo answered with a smirk. “Friends, meet Theoderic of Gerud, dyadic magician of dawn, and our resident worrywart.”
“Pleasure,” Theoderic answered. “Just take care I have no reason to worry, and I am sure we will get along fine.”
“I promise he is kinder than he pretends,” Laszlo added, mock-whispering. There was a chorus of chuckles, and even Theoderic smirked.
“You have already met Obella and Minerva,” Laszlo continued. “Obella acts as our security force, and is one of the only non-magicians in the Fifth Law.”
“A blade does me just fine,” Obella responded. “See that you bring no harm to Laszlo or the organization, and you will not meet the end of mine.”
Laszlo grimaced. “My apologies for the cold welcome,” he said to Brandon. “My friends are simply wary.”
“Minerva handles our finances and medical needs,” Laszlo continued. “She is a rose magician by training, but has been studying the other schools as well.”
“She also brings in strays, apparently,” came a voice from across the table.
“That is enough, Liana,” Laszlo snapped. “Caution is one thing, but I’ll not have you speak ill of our new comrades.”
Liana scoffed and tossed her hair. She was a young, dark-skinned woman with curly, black hair piled elaborately on top of her head. Her delicate features failed to hide a keen look in her sharp, blue eyes.
“Liana Grace formerly studied at the Magisterium,” Laszlo explained. “Her insight into our foe’s mindset has been invaluable.” Brandon glanced at Willam at the mention of the Magisterium, and startled when he noticed his cousin had gone pale.
“And I am not the only former Magister-Adept in the room,” Liana added mockingly. “Hello, Willy,” she called, singsongy.
Willam’s pallor turned to flush, and he bowed his head. “Hello, Liana,” he responded meekly. Brandon made a mental note to ask him for more information later.
“I suppose that leaves me for last,” called the final person sitting at the table. “Adamas Onera, at your service.” He was the dark-skinned man from earlier, his head shaved bald. His clothes were plain and baggy, and his eyes were a vibrant purple. “I am glad to see that the youthful nobility of today are able to see through the lies this realm is built upon.”
“Adamas is my lieutenant,” Laszlo said. “He also happens to be the most potent gloam magician I have ever met.” His eyes turned to Plum. “Perhaps you can learn from him, Miss Plumeria.”
“Please,” Adamas responded with a chuckle. “If she is half the talent you say, I shall be learning from her within the fortnight.”
“If there is aught to be learned,” Plum began cautiously. “I shall be an eager student.”
“I suppose we shall see,” Laszlo replied, chuckling back.
Laszlo turned towards the other members of the Fifth Law. “Adamas, Theo, Obella, I must speak with you. Liana, show our new comrades around, if you please?”
Liana rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Very well,” she sighed. “Come along then.” She stood and made for the door.
Brandon stood to follow, Plum and Willam following suit.
“Oh, and Prince-Adept?” Laszlo called out, just as Brandon reached the threshold. “Come to my study after you have had a chance to rest. We have much to discuss.”
Brandon nodded, and followed Liana out into the hall. She tapped her foot impatiently a few feet down the hall.
“Hurry along, then,” she called. “Especially you, Willy.”
Willam was uncharacteristically quiet in the face of her goading, and the silence that fell over the group felt palpable enough to cut with one of Plum’s blood blades. Liana began walking down the hall in silence.
“So,” Brandon began after what felt like ages, trying and failing to break the tension. “You two were at the Magisterium together?”
“Indeed,” Liana commented without turning back. “I was a year above Willy.”
“And… you two have history?”
Liana laughed—actually laughed out loud. “Oh, you are funny, Vermillion,” she said in lieu of an answer. Brandon made another, stronger mental note to ask Willam about it later.
Eventually, they came to a broader, underground atrium. It was shaped roughly like a five-pointed star, akin to the one in the Fifth Law’s sigil, with a hallway leading from each point..
“This is what we call the hub,” Liana said, gesturing around the room. She hooked her thumb over her shoulder to point back at the hall they had just come through. “We just came from the meeting chamber and studies.” She pointed to each of the other four halls in turn, clockwise. Those are the storage, medical, residential, and leisure wings. Laszlo had rooms prepared for you. Come,” she finished, already walking towards the residential wing.
A few moments later, they were standing in a hallway with several doors. Most of the doors were labeled with names—Liana’s was three doors down—and the two in front of them were labeled as ‘Brandon’ and ‘Plumeria.’ Brandon recognized the writing as Laszlo’s spidery hand.
“We did not expect a third stray to show up,” Liana said. Brandon could almost hear the sneer in her voice. “I suppose you shall have to share,” she said with a sharp laugh.
“Plum and I can share,” Brandon said automatically, and then flushed deeply. “If ‘tis alright with you, I mean,” he stammered out, unable to meet Plum’s eyes.
Plum nodded tersely, but did not respond. She still seemed wound tighter than a spring.
Liana raised an eyebrow at Plum, then turned her eyes to Brandon. Her eyes slipped down his body and then back up to his face, and her eyebrow raised further. Then she shrugged.
“Very well,” she sighed. “I shall let Laszlo know to change the labels. “Latrines are down the hall, and you can get food and drink in the leisure wing. If you need anything else… actually no, I do not care.” She sniffed. “Goodbye.” Liana whirled and disappeared in the direction of the hub.
“She is… pleasant,” Brandon said once she was gone. Willam snorted, and even Plum’s lips quirked upwards in a smirk.
The three magicians went into the room labeled ‘Brandon.’ Willam turned on the oil lamp on the wall, and they regarded the room. It was surprisingly pleasant: the wood-paneled walls gave it a cozy impression, and the warm light from the oil lamp made it feel pleasant, if rather plain. There was a bed big enough for two, a dresser and bedside table, and a small writing desk, as well as a washing alcove tucked in the corner behind a small divider. All that being said, the room was half the size of Brandon’s chambers in the Keep, and he almost regretted offering to share with Plum. Once they were all in, Brandon slid the deadbolt on the door shut, locking it tightly.
Plum sat on the bed heavily and rubbed her hand over the fresh scars on her forearm. Willam pulled the chair away from the small desk and sat in it. He looked almost physically ill.
Adelaide sighed and threw herself onto the bed next to Plum. Plum began unlacing her boots and turned to lock eyes with Adelaide.
“I am exhausted, Addie,” she said.
“I am too, Plum,” she answered. “Rest for a while. I shall talk to Laszlo soon.” She turned to look at Willam, who looked as though he were trying not to vomit.
“Willy,” she said gently. “Do you want to tell us what is going on?”
Willam glanced at them quickly, and then made a sound halfway between a groan and a sigh.
“Liana and I-” he grunted. “We were close for a time. She sort of… took me under her wing when I first got to Adrail. She showed me around the city, and the Cathedral, and helped me get adjusted.”
“What happened?” Adelaide asked gently.
Willam’s face screwed itself into a grimace. “I… do not fully know,” he said after a moment. “We had a… rather heated discussion one day about some magical theory or another. This was plenty common, mind you, but the next day, she did not show up for our planned trip into the city. She pointedly ignored me for months, and then I stopped seeing her at all.” He hung his head. “And that was only the beginning.
“We had many mutual friends and classmates, of course. I know not what she told them, but I was ostracized. Before long, I was on my own for studying, and experimental work, and my social life vanished. Seldom did I hear a kind word from the Magister-Adepts who were once my friends.” He scoffed. “I thought she was my friend.”
Adelaide put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “And you have no idea why?”
Willam shook his head. “As I said, our debates on magical theory were common, and I thought one of the strongest aspects of our friendship. I know not if I wronged her in some way or aught else, but she made much of my time at Adrail hellish.” Willam glanced up at Adelaide. “That was… the real reason I returned to the Keep.” He shrugged. “I suppose seeing her out of the blue brought all of that pain to the surface.”
Adelaide squeezed his shoulder again. “We will not abandon you like that, Willy,” she said adamantly. “You are my cousin, and more than that, you are my friend. I meant it when I said that I trust you with my life.” She chuckled. “I suppose that, in a way, I already have.”
Willam sniffed gently. “Thank you… Adelaide? Is it alright to call you that when we are alone?”
Adelaide laughed, and pulled him in for a hug. “Yes, Willy,” she said, hugging her cousin. “‘Tis more than fine.”
After a moment, Willam pulled away from the hug. “Right,” he said. “Shall we find some food?”
“I need a nap,” Plum said, already laying on the bed with her eyes closed.
“And I shall go speak to Laszlo,” Adelaide said. “You should eat though.” She glanced at Plum. “And bring her back some food, if you would not mind?” she added quietly. “She probably will not eat otherwise.”
“I heard that,” Plum said. Adelaide giggled.
“I shall see you soon,” Adelaide said, making for the door.
“Be safe, love,” Plum called, as Brandon stepped out into the hall. He turned back towards the meeting wing to find Laszlo Tolemas.
Brandon found his way to Laszlo’s study with only a small amount of difficulty. He wandered aimlessly through the meeting wing for a brief period before stumbling on a room labeled with Laszlo’s name, and he hesitated a moment before rapping gently on the door.
“Come in,” came Laszlo’s voice from inside. Brandon gingerly turned the handle and stepped through the threshold.
Laszlo’s study was more spacious than Brandon would have expected in an environment like this one. Laszlo was seated at a large wooden desk strewn with dozens of papers and scrolls, and Folnir perched on an elaborate model tree in the back of the room. A pair of heavy, padded chairs sat opposite Laszlo’s desk, and the wood paneling of the walls was largely covered with tapestries.
The largest tapestry drew Brandon’s eye like a magnet. It was a familiar depiction of the first Crown Radiance, the Sovereign-Archmagister Edric Prismaris, triumphant over the formless mass of the Lightless. Radiance stood in front of the shining, three-pointed star that was the symbol of the Sovereign. What caught Brandon’s eye, though, was what he was doing. He was depicted as drawing a magical sigil without a wand—or indeed, any magical implement—to cast a spell that banished the Lightless. That was supposed to be impossible… except for when one was casting dyadic magic. The sigil was also multicolored: it transitioned smoothly from red to yellow to blue, passing through the secondary colors as it did. Emerging from each section of the sigil was a magical effect associated with each color of magic.
“Strange, is it not?” Laszlo mused, following Brandon’s gaze. “According to the histories of the Magisterium, Sovereign Edric was a yellow magician by birth, and after his crowning mastered red and blue magic as well. This tapestry is likely from within the first few years after his Arraignment, and it seems to show the casting of not just dyadic magic, but triadic magic. Not to mention that he seems to be using it to banish the Lightless. If ‘tis authentic, well…” he trailed off, and then turned his gaze back to Brandon.
“I am sorry for what you had to see earlier, Adelaide,” he said softly. Adelaide immediately felt a wave of tension evaporate from her shoulders at the sound of her true name.
“I would have preferred your introduction to the Fifth Law to have been rather more… auspicious.”
Adelaide hesitated “‘Tis understandable,” she said eventually. “I suppose ‘tis one of the largest difficulties in what we do, yes?”
Laszlo beamed at Adelaide. “Indeed,” he agreed. His face fell. “But that does not mean I relish the duty.”
“I am sure you felt it was necessary.”
Laszlo nodded sadly. “I did. I do.” He sighed. “Let us turn to other matters. Why did you come?” he asked simply.
Adelaide spent the next fifteen minutes or so explaining what had happened at Keep Vermillion since Laszlo had left. She left out her slip with her knife, and Plum’s escapade with Millie, and Laszlo’s expression grew more pained and sympathetic with every sentence.
“I am so sorry, Adelaide,” he said when she was finished. “And I am sorry that I did not call you Adelaide when you arrived-”
“No, no, ‘tis fine,” Adelaide said hurriedly. “I am… not quite ready yet.”
Laszlo raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Very well,” he replied. “I shall guard your secret from now until you are ready.”
“Thank you,” Adelaide replied softly, bowling her head. She swallowed hard past the lump of emotion in her throat.
“You should speak to Theoderic,” Laszlo said after a moment. “When you have the chance.”
“I recall you mentioning his name when we spoke in the Keep’s courtyard,” Adelaide replied.
“Indeed.” Laszlo’s moustache quirked as he smiled. “He is like you, you know. In the… opposite direction, so to speak.”
Adelaide felt a strange feeling open in her shoulders. It felt like the opposite of the way she often withdrew when she was afraid—it felt like the whole world had lifted a few inches off of her shoulders.
“You mean he-”
“Was not always he.” Laszlo smiled broadly at Adelaide. “You do not have to be alone anymore, Adelaide. We shall protect you.”
Adelaide felt a wave of emotion wash over her. A tension she hadn’t even known she was holding in her shoulders leaked out in seconds, and the relief brought tears to her eyes. Her first thought was of Plum—Plum, who had always been there for her, always protected her. Perhaps I can finally give her the chance to rest, Adelaide thought. Perhaps the Fifth Law can share her burden.
Her next thought was how she realized she’d never even truly known how alone she’d felt. As far as she’d known, she was the only person in the entire world like her. To find out that there was another—and so close!—filled her with such immense relief that she felt her knees grow weak. She collapsed into one of the chairs opposite Laszlo’s desk and let out a deep, shuddering breath.
Laszlo sat patiently, observing Adelaide keenly. She again had the strange feeling she felt the first time she had met Laszlo—almost like he was looking right through her.
“You should rest,” he said eventually. There was a look in his eyes that Adelaide couldn’t quite place. She was put in mind of the time in her youth when she’d watched one of the Keep cats hunt a mouse. It had not just hunted it, it had almost toyed with it, nearly letting it escape through a gap in the wall before pouncing. She shifted in her seat, unsettled, as Laszlo walked around the desk to observe her more closely.
“You should rest,” Laszlo said again. “I shall summon you and your friends on the morrow. I have a mission for you.” He smiled warmly, and Adelaide felt her concern wash away, replaced by excitement at the prospect of a mission for the Fifth Law.
“Really? What is it?” she asked excitedly.
Laszlo chuckled. “All in due time, my dear Adelaide. Now please, go rest.”
Adelaide stood, beaming. She nodded quickly, and left Laszlo’s chamber for her own, a new spring in her step, ready to face whatever challenge Laszlo might throw at her.
Perhaps one day soon, she thought, her heart racing with excitement. Adelaide shall call this home.
Cambria's Corner 
Leave a comment