Page 86 of Sword & Shadow
“But they’re still Mages?” he asked.
“They aren’t called that, but all in all, yes. Their magic flows from a connection to the resources. It’s just not as strong of a connection.”
Deckard didn’t know what to make of that information. He had little intention of leaving Allund unless Evylin asked it of him, which he didn’t foresee. But knowing that magic could change in such a way that it could get weaker made him wonder if it wouldn’t be better to leave after all.
“As we’re sure you’re not a Warrior,” Ilain continued, oblivious to his internal debate, “you must be a Mage. And if you’d like definitive proof, you needn’t worry. You’ll have it tonight.”
Deckard’s heart stuttered in his chest. “I will?”
Ilain nodded. “The first step in your training is to determine your classification: Elemental or Existential. If the first, you’ll train more closely with me. If the second,” she gave him an apologetic grin, “it’ll be with Auden.”
He raised his brow. “And Auden is less preferred because . . . ?”
“Because he’s tedious,” she said with playful seriousness. “I love my brother, but he’s a magister for a reason. And that reason is that he’d rather spend his life studying musty oldtomes and talking about theories rather than actuallyliving. Being his student would mean listening to him lecture for hours on the entire history of Mages and the finer points of hand gestures, as well as whether they’re helpful or not. And Heavens help you if you’re a Night Mage. He’d treat you like a bloody child the entire time.”
Thinking of Prince Blount, Deckard shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to be a Night Mage,” he said.
Ilain snorted. “You wouldn’t exactly have a choice. Your primary resource is your primary resource, and that’s that. All the others will be harder for you to access—especiallyfor a Mage as inexperienced as yourself, so don’t bother trying to bypass it, whatever it is.”
“But Night magic is bad,” Deckard argued. “We wouldn’t want me to use it.”
“First of all,” Ilain said emphatically, “no magic isbad. Magic is like that sword on your belt: a tool.Youchoose how you use it. And second, this is a highly theoretical conversation. Even if you are an Existential Mage, there’s a chance you could connect to Day or Time more. But Elemental Mages are more common anyway. It’s far more likely you’re a... Oh, I don’t know. A Terrae Mage. That’d be helpful. I have a horrendous connection with Terrae. Granted, it’s better than most due to my unmitigated power, but it’s abysmal compared to the rest of my connections.”
“So,” Deckard concluded, “the odds of my being an Elemental Mage are higher.”
“And more preferable,” she said. “Both for you and for the Alliance.”
“Why?”
“We already have two male Existential Mages lined up to Bond,” she explained, then pulled a face. “That’sifAuden canconvince Breata to work with him. We’d like to have at least one Bonded Elemental male as well.”
“I’ve told you—”
Ilain waved off his comment. “I know, I know. Regardless,” she gave him a weighty look, “being an Existential is more dangerous, to you and to others. It’s more challenging to learn, and the resources are less predictable. Elements are straightforward. Existents are chaotic, at best.”
She gave a decisive nod. “No, it’d be best for us all if you prove to be an Elemental Mage, and I could teach you.”
Deciding she was right, Deckard allowed the conversation to lapse into silence. His mind was too full, his heart too unsettled. He didn’t want to consider his classification as a Mage. It felt like a distraction from the more important problem in his life: helping Evylin heal.
When it became clear to Ilain that Deckard was through with the conversation, she excused herself to rejoin her brother.
For the rest of the journey, Deckard rode in silence. The sun drifted lazily behind the clouds once more, casting them into the shadows of the trees. No one bothered to approach him again, either because they read his agitation or were uninterested in pursuing a conversation. He was grateful. It gave him time to consider how to sneak away again to talk to Hewitt. He needed the ghost’s advice more now than ever.
But finding an excuse was harder than Deckard expected.
He couldn’t keep walking out into the forest alone. After breaking their agreement to pair up for safety once, he risked giving others permission to do the same should he repeat his offense. His only ally was Evylin, and now he’d lost her. He didn’t trust any of the others not to ask him questions if he were to recruit their help. All this left him grasping at straws for a reason to be alone long enough to receive the advice he desperately needed.
At a loss, Deckard resigned himself to another night without Hewitt’s aid. And as the Calders broached the topic of Deckard’s classification during dinner, it seemed Allore’s will was set against him that night.
“Howdoyou find out what kind of Mage someone is?” Rafferty asked. “Is it some special rite? Or do the Relics tell you?”
“The Relics have been hidden away for centuries,” Ethenn noted. “There would have to be another way.”
“The Relics are of no use in this situation,” Auden confirmed. “Holding the Water Relic, evenIcould access its power. But there is a basic technique used to determine what classification a child is once their magic reveals itself.”
“And that is . . . ?” Rafferty prodded.
“It’s a rudimentary form of tapping into the individual’s connection to the resources,” Auden said. “If an individual is an Elemental, they’ll be more drawn toallof the elements, and so forth with an Existential and the existents. To determine the individual’s classification, you only need to test their affinity via the push and pull of the two classes simultaneously.”
