The Night of the Purge (gen-fant, WIP?)

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Well, about a month or two ago, I got a visit from a long-lost friend; my muse.

Back in the late nineties, I got a wild hair to write narrative fiction; started as BattleTech fanfic, and drifted into other stuff; if Terry Pratchett is to be belived, there was a long (but now over) shower of Inspiration Particles bombarding my area.

Real life caused this to dwindle out after a couple of years, and I've had little to show for it apart from being a bit of a grammar nazi.

But as I said, something just twigged in me, and I had this scene play itself out in my head, and once again, I felt compelled to transcribe it into text.

Yes, it's just a vignette, really - I don't know if I'll ever do anything more with it, but...who knows?

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"The mob is starting to move out from the Guildhall, Master."

Carlosh looked up from his work, and sighed. "Ah, well - three it will have to be, then," he admitted, and cast aside his quill. Standing up, he announced "Come, girl, we must make preparations to welcome them."

The apprentice waited for him in the doorway of his study. He bustled around the room, picking up things, and moving other things to replace their absence. He took a stack of blank parchment out of a cabinet and placed it on his writing desk, then took down one of the lanterns, blew out the wick and looked at the young woman waiting for him. "You have the flask?"

She nodded and held it out. He took the container of light oil, removed the cork and set it unsteadily on several pieces of the parchment, then reached out and knocked it over. "There - I will have been transcribing 'heretical magicks' when one of my reading lamps went out." He walked up to the doorway and looked his apprentice bemusedly. "Since my evil soul denies God's Science, my eyesight has gotten dim as His punishment, and while refilling it, their arrival startled me."

"But, Master Carlosh...all this, all the lore and knowledge..." she gestured forlornly at the book-lined walls of the Magicker's study.

"...is already transcribed in these indices here," he finished, holding up several slim books. "As I've said, Petalia, your job will be to make sure they survive this Purge, and take them to the coast, and to the Holy Scientists in Rolsport."

She clung to her tutor. "But the Church is behind the Purge! They are destroying all the old magicks heretical to the New Science!"

Carlosh patted her head. "Not all of them; I haven't explained this since it is quite complex, but the Church of the New Science is quite large, and because it is so influential, different branches of it in different areas find they have to adapt their dogma and doctrine to...well, blend in with the local customs, so to speak."

"So, this Purge isn't being carried out in every land?"

"Well, it's supposed to, but this is the seat of the First Laboratory - source of the Purge - and the High Council lives here and has to deal with the secular ruler-"

"And King Gregor is the one that wants the Purge, right?" Carlosh nodded. "But why? What would he gain by getting rid of the old Guild of Magick?"

The sorcerer bade his apprentice sit on a stack of books by the door. "We really don't have time for all this, but I'll try to be brief - Gregor had an old grudge with his cousin Archmage Karel; some petty thing when they were boys. And in addition to currying favour with the New Science by removing another institution and giving them a greater influence over the people, he was able to settle that score when the Magickers were 'tried for their heresy'."

"But..."

Carlosh didn't need magick to know what Petalia's next question was, and pre-empted her. "Because some people are NOT kind and selfless, generous and helpful. Some people care more for their own needs and wants than anything else. Some people are controlled by their pride, and must prove themselves to be powerful, or undisputed and as such will strike others down. Others merely take a survival instinct too far and let greed make them gather up so much that they harm others. And you will encounter these sorts and worse when you leave; the thing to remember is that NOT EVERYONE is like this. Yes, some on the High Council desire to destroy the guild in their lust for control and power, and some even for simple spite, but not even the entire High Council thinks like this.

"But those few sensible people cannot openly speak out against the Purge - a kind of fever has swept up throughout the kingdom; common people want to strike down something - maybe in retaliation to ANY of the large or small injustices that have gone on in their lives - and a majority of the High Council backs their actions, so all the minority can do is agree, lest they be declared heretics themselves."

"Surely not even the Scientists-"

"You forget Astronomer Fellowson; the mob pulled him down and beat him to death in the street when he tried to stop the execution of Magickers this morning. And I've lived through a few pogroms and revolts, little one - it's dangerous even for the leaders. Everyone has to go along with the flow of the crowd. Even YOU, when you go out there."

"But come with me - the knowledge you hold; it's more than we could ever put down on paper!"

Carlosh hugged her and shook his head. "It's okay, Pet. I've lived quite a full life. And if anyone is going to burn down my study, it damn well better be me," he joked.

He stepped back and made his apprentice stand. "More importantly, I know that you and the lore you carry will survive. Back to my point, in the lands farther away from the High Council, calmer heads are holding sway. The Scientists in other regions are living up to their core dogma and LEARNING - accepting the knowledge the old Guild has. They are essentially absorbing the Guild offices and members - technically 'destroying the heresy' by making it cease to exist, but in reality, letting their libraries grow with 'donations' of magick tomes and accepting 'apprenticeships' of Magickers and the like. And they will accept you, too."

"And you - you can come with-"

Carlosh stopped the plea with a gentle finger on her lips. "No. I'm sorry...but there's something I must do to help you escape the mob and the Purge, and it will all but wring the life from me. I didn't want to tell you this, but I'll be casting a glamour over not just the people outside, but over everyone for miles and miles around - no one will ever remember Petalia, Mage's Apprentice and thus Heretic. In everyone's minds, you will become Petalia Guardsdaughter, an orphan taken in by the Town Watch instead of the Guild of Magick. You normally bed down in the Guardhouse kitchen-"

"No....no, you can't! It'd kill you!" Petalia grasped at her master. "You've always warned me to limit myself - pouring too much magick through oneself would burn the caster up! I can't let you-"

"We don't have any choice! The indices must get to the Church Council on the coast, and I am too old to travel, as well as far too well known to let a glamour cover me up, but it will work for you.

"And worry not - I've done bigger spells and hurt more than what I will tonight. I will survive this just fine - it's not the entire world I'm casting a glamour on, just this town and its local countryside. I doubt anyone more than a day's walk has ever heard of 'Apprentice Petalia' so I don't have to trick THEM."

"But...but - I can't leave you."

"It will be all right; my cousin Alfrid on the Council in Rolsport will be expecting you - she will take you in, and you will continue your studies with the Scientists and Magickers there."

"No...I..." Petalia seemed at a loss for words. Then she reached up and kissed him.

This wasn't the kind, respectful peck of a student to a teacher, or an apprentice to her master and guardian. Carlosh knew - she loved him.

When it ended, it was the Magicker who was nonplussed. "Um. Well, that..."

"I'm sorry - I know it's wrong, but I don't feel I could live without you."

"Don't feel bad, dear." He hugged the young woman to him. "I fear I've neglected some aspects of your apprenticeship. But it's not like I've had any experience raising young folk. I kind of expected - before the Purge began - that you might start taking an interest in the boys in the marketplace in a year or two."

"I didn't mean to...it just-"

Carlosh kissed her back. More than his words that followed, this assured her that it was all right. "Don't fret - you did nothing wrong. Sometimes a relationship between apprentice and master can get complicated because of love, but there's no rule or Scientific Law forbidding it. If things were different, I'd be happy to explore this with you, but..."

Petalia sagged in resignation. "I know - it cannot be. I...I just needed you to know."

"Thank you - it...it is nice to know how you feel." He broke their embrace to grab the new volumes. "But come, we have to get the rest of your cover sorted out: as I said, you're essentially a squire of the Guard - in time you'll become one of them, but there's a letter on the way that requests 'some fresh blood' for the Rolsport's Guard. Alfrid has already sent it, pretending to be the Captain there. Part of my glamour will make Captain Krohn conclude it's best to send you over any of the other squires - they have kin in town."

They left the study and began their preparations for the coming storm. "I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to wearing leathers - no more loose, soft robes for you, m'dear..."

 

I like this and wish you would continue with it.

 

I second that. Please continue.

 

Excellent story. Do update if you have the time!

 

Well. Looks like I'll have to tease my muse into seeing more of what happens to 'Pet'.

I'm gonna have to exorcise these Morrowind scenes that keep popping into my head, but I should be able to get something going...in time.

Be patient, folks - I'm as eager as you are to discover more; now you've given me the ammunition to take back to my subconscious and say "See? It's not just me; now come up with something for us!"