II. Mage
A committee of mages studied Somner for several hours before they awarded Dane with his mage license. Immediately after this, they began debating Somner’s flaws and attributes with each other. Somner tried his best to ignore them. Rather than give them his attention, he listened intently as one of the mages, an older man with graying hair and a rough, unshaven face, said to Dane, “Keep in mind that yer grace period t’find employment or other lodging is only three months. Make sure—”
“I know,” Dane said, laughing. The two talked for a few moments longer under Somner’s watchful eyes, heads bent close together. Somner had not seen his mage interact with very many people yet, but the closeness between the two seemed to suggest a level of ease that Somner had never seen in Dane before now.
Without regard for Somner’s level of comfort, the committee crowded around him with curious, intent stares. One of them had the same voice as the man who had come to the door when Somner was first created—the Lord-Mage Stoneford—but the man was, for the most part, ignoring Somner and talking to one of his fellow committee members. Unhappily, Somner wished Dane would make the mages leave Somner alone, but he was conversing with the older mage and didn’t look at Somner even once.
“Amazing. Amazing,” one of the mages reiterated. “You look nothing like you did alive. You’re certain that you remember nothing?”
Somner shook his head silently. He felt trapped, caged in by their bodies. Stoneford snorted, looking away from the woman he was talking to. “Stop crowding the boy, Thrice.”
Thrice frowned, stepping back a few paces. “Ah, yes. Sorry,” he mumbled. “Still though. Amazing.”
“He’s calling you what? Somner?” Stoneford asked gruffly. He still looked directly, boldly, at Somner. Somner nodded. “Interesting. Valerian chose it? He probably meant for it to be short for Papaver Somniferum.”
Somner blinked several times. “The… opium poppy?” he said, confused.
“You remember?” Thrice’s body nearly thrumming with excitement. Somner shook his head, shrinking back from Thrice’s enthusiasm.
“No. I… read it in a book. Yesterday.”
“I suppose you don’t know,” Stoneford drawled lazily. “Valerian was obsessed with plant-based magic. He probably helped Jefferson with blending the natural and unnatural parts of the ritual so that you would have enough energy for sustained animation. The plants Valerian and Papaver Somniferum both have sedative properties that cause drowsiness. Though I have to ask, Dane,” he said, raising his voice. Dane looked up. “Is the smell a side-effect of the ritual?”
Dane looked confused before flushing bright red.
Somner had read about chameleons yesterday evening. They could change themselves to better blend in with their environment, becoming nearly invisible, and right now Somner dearly wanted to be a chameleon. He had shamed Dane and he hated that.
“No, that’s because I… well, I forgot to make certain he knew precisely what a bath was.” The committee laughed at that.
It wasn’t that Somner didn’t know what a bath was. He did. He did not, however, know exactly how to perform one, and he did not appreciate being made a laughingstock. His head snapped to the side, gaze turning away from his mage so as to look at Stoneford.
Lord Stoneford was a tall man, he noted, a few inches shorter than Somner. His long hair was dark brown, threaded through with a strand or two of silver, and fell into his eyes with the particular sort of carelessness that suggested it was intentional. His gray-hazel eyes made him seem aloof, and his expressions ranged from arrogant amusement to disdain. Somner did not like him at all.
Stoneford raised an eyebrow at him and said archly, “Dane, your construct is staring at me. Are you nearly finished?”
“Actually, yes,” Dane said. His voice was even, but Somner noticed that his hands were trembling. “Thank you for your time, my lords.” He bowed shortly. “Come, Somner.”
He swept past Somner and out through the large, wooden doors that marked the entry into the committee room. Somner fell into step behind him easily, one pace behind and to the left. Dane’s back was rigid and straight. Somner could see that his muscles were tense beneath his thin silk shirt before he shrugged on his wool mage coat. Somner shifted his gaze to the back of Dane’s head, restraining his longer stride to match Dane’s movements. The sunlight shining through the hall’s large windows fell across Dane’s blonde hair, over his pale, freckled skin, and gave his eyes a strange cast. Soon enough, they reached the end of the hall and entered the student quarter, quickly going through the nearest door on the right, Dane’s own.
Dane whirled around the moment they were through the doorway. “Why did you not tell me that you were unaware of what I meant when I told you to bathe?” he hissed.
Somner took one step back, then another, until he hit the closed door. Dane visibly wilted then, scrubbing a long-fingered hand over his face. “I apologize,” he said tightly. “That was uncalled for.”
“I…” Somner paused and took a breath. “I… know what it is to bathe, but I was not certain how one does it. I was…. I’m sorry, Dane.” Somner ducked his head, studying the pattern of fine dust over the boots Dane had forced him to wear for the committee meeting.
“I should have expected it, Somner. It’s hardly your fault,” Dane said tersely.
“Styles of bathing can differ, but generally, one submerges oneself in a tub of water and rubs soap, either directly or through use of a small cloth, over one’s body. In my bathing room, I have a few jars next to my bath. The blue one is a special sort of soap that you put in your hair. You wash out after it has been scrubbed in thoroughly. You may feel free to use for your own.” He turned and Somner heard him begin to walk toward the work room. He stopped just before he would have gone through the door, and Somner heard him say, “Please, Somner, bathe. I hadn’t noticed, but… you should probably bathe.” He took a few more steps and then there was a sound of the door quietly swing closed.Somner felt dizzy. He didn’t know where he was somehow, as if he had lost all sense of direction and memory of the past three days spent in this suite with Dane. Everything in the room leered and loomed at him, the cheery walls turned grim with disease and rot. The colors of the walls and floor slid and melted together as he walked past them into the bathing room, mixing into sick swirls of green and near-black. He closed the door firmly on the sight, and leaning against it, took a breath.
The bathing room seemed to be having the strange, melting problem, but Somner ignored it as he looked around. Small bottles and jars of varying colors ringed the large bathtub set into the floor. He crossed over to the tub and stared at it, wondering how to turn it on and make the water his mage had spoken of come forth. The basin was obviously meant to be filled with the water, so logically, the water must come from somewhere above. Somner tilted his head up to survey the ceiling, but there was nothing there that would suggest how to call water into the basin. He looked closer and saw that just above the tub was a golden tap, somewhat similar to the one in the sink of Dane’s work room.
“Ah,” he said to the room melting blue walls, humiliated at his lack of common sense. He reached over to the tap and turned the knobs until a water of appropriate warmth spilled out. After several minutes of watching it fall into the tub, however, he noticed that it wasn’t being collected within it due to the small hole at the bottom of the basin. Pained, he closed his eyes and filled the hole with a stopper. He was so stupid.
Not stupid, something in him insisted. Just inexperienced.
He still felt stupid.
If the goal was to become clean by submerging in water, he should disrobe so as to better reach his skin. He did so and sank into the tub, ignoring how painful the water was until he adjusted to the temperature.
He had to be smarter. Then no one would ever embarrass him and his mage needn’t be ashamed of him. And maybe, then, he could somehow manage to punish Lord Stoneford for his cruelty.
The water was pleasant now, but Somner stood up and walked out of the bathing room very quickly. He wanted a book to read while he was so comfortable. It was a bit cold walking around after he had acclimatized to the water, so Somner quickly picked up a book from where he had left it in one of Dane’s sitting room chairs and headed back into the bathing room. He hoped that his mage wouldn’t notice the water he had trailed everywhere. That seemed like the kind of thing that might bother Dane.
The water was cold by the time Somner recalled that the purpose of the tub was to become clean. He quickly finished the bathing ritual, wiped the water from his body with one of the large towels nearby, and left the bathing room again. Suspicious booms and crackles were coming from the work room, which suggested that Somner might not wish to enter until Dane was less distracted—he had interrupted Dane yesterday at hearing similar noises and Dane had been displeased.
There was so much that Somner had to know and it seemed like the amount of knowledge necessary would never diminish. Reading so much was causing one of the headaches that Dane had warned him about, however, which was a sign he should stop. He set the book down carefully on the table that was in front of the grouping of sitting room chairs and gingerly sat down in one.
He wanted, he realized, someone to talk to or someone to talk at him. Interaction solely with oneself was very boring, but his mage was busy. Dane was busy quite often, and even when Somner was in the room with him, Dane tended to avoid looking at him and sounded sorrowful when he actually spoke.
Somner decided that he did not like Valerian either if he had made Dane this sad to remember him.
Dane’s head appeared from the work room. “Somner, are you finished with your bath? Come in.”
Dane sounded frustrated at him again and Somner put his head down, getting to his feet and trudging into the work room. It was brightly lit from the midday sunshine coming in from the windows and the wooden floor was patterned with crisscrossing shadows from the large tables and the instruments on them. The bookshelves, plastered all along one wall and half of another, were Somner’s favorite part, but his mage’s feet and legs were blocking Somner’s view of them.
“Look at me,” Dane snapped. Hesitantly, Somner’s chin rose enough so that he could almost, but not quite, meet Dane’s eyes. “I’m hardly going to hurt you,” Dane said irritably. “And I do wish you would stop being so afraid of me.”
Somner stared at him. Dane’s dark green eyes were filled with sorrow, belying his angry tone.
“And stop staring at me as well,” Dane grumbled, though this sounded not half as serious as his previous words. He looked away from Somner, his long hair falling over his cheek.
Somner smiled. “I will try, Dane,” he said. “Do you require help with anything?”
Dane crossed quickly over to his work table and sat in a chair behind it, leaning his elbows against the tabletop and cradling his head in his hands. “I am attempting to find employment. I will need to leave the university soon, now that I have acquired my mage license.”
So it was Somner’s fault that Dane had to leave. He frowned and said quietly, “Sorry.”
Dane snorted. “A mage license is not something unpleasant. It is an honor to achieve, so do not apologize. The Prince-Lords of Linning, Nothfeld, and Draeg are all currently seeking new mages for their staff. The Prince-Lord of Linning is most impatient—he accepted just two days ago, but requires us to leave to see him tomorrow. We will be required to go and see which would best suit us, and if we would suit them.” He hesitated for a long moment, his gaze lifting to meet Somner’s. “You do wish to come with me, Somner, correct? My old teacher, Master Mage Downing, would not be displeased to take you in.”
Somner’s throat clenched. “No!” he exclaimed. A sudden rush of panic was making his body quake; he could barely see Dane even though he was looking straight at him. “I am your construct and you made me. Please, Dane, don’t send m—“
Dane’s hand was warm against Somner’s shoulder and he shook him lightly, just once. “Stop. I would be very pleased to have you with me, Somner, but I hardly wish to keep you against your will.”
Fear made Somner frown and glare into Dane’s face. “You can’t get rid of me,” he warned childishly. “You are responsible for me. Since you created me, I am yours.”
Dane’s face turned a deep pink. “I told you I would take care of you and I will not go back on my word,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. If asked to name the undertone to his voice then, Somner would be unable.
Somner looked at his mage’s chin rather than meet his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I won’t… I will try not to embarrass you anymore, I promise.”
“You have not embarrassed me. If anyone has embarrassed me lately, it would be Stoneford, for pointing out my own inability to care for you properly,” Dane said crisply. He stepped back. “Now, I need to go order provisions for the journey at the market. Would you like to come with me or stay here?”
Somner would not be left behind. “Go with you, please,” he said solemnly.
Dane smiled. “Good. I want to get you some clothing that did not… belong to the previous inhabitant of your body. And I have a feeling that you will appreciate the book vendors.”
The last sentence sounded like an apology and Somner was ridiculously grateful for it.
“Come,” Dane continued, already looking like he was thinking about something else. “The sooner we find the supplies, the sooner I can get from under the committee’s thumb.” He looked vaguely disgusted at that and headed toward the outer door.
Trailing after him, Somner felt a surge of delight. Somner had not bothered to put his boots back on after his bath, and if he was lucky, Dane wouldn’t realize it. Somner absolutely hated shoes.
