The Nine Bishops

Ingra shook Mika out of a deep slumber, startling her awake.

“Sorry to wake you, my dear, but you slept all through the day, and it’s almost time that you and my husband went off. I’ll leave you to get ready,” Ingra said as she left the room.

Mika had slept for hours. She’d dreamed of her father, but so briefly it felt like ten minutes. Mika was certain of what she’d heard, though she could barely hear his voice. In this dream, he’d said four words instead of the regular three.

There was a pause after the first three words. Then he said one more: Frost. Mika didn’t know what it meant. What came to mind was what she had done at the circus, but that seemed a long shot. Regardless, she lingered on the meaning of this new word as she got out of bed to get ready.

Mika packed her few things and left her room, noticing as she went downstairs that Ingra was already engaged in conversation with a man, while Sarah swept the floor, as she’d been doing when Mika arrived.

As Mika reached the bottom of the stairs, Sarah looked up and met Mika’s eyes. She gave a tiny smile and quickly shot her head down and kept sweeping. Mika laughed only loud enough for herself to hear. She was happy that such a small act of kindness had won her a smile from the poor girl.

As she approached, Ingra introduced the man she’d been talking with as her husband. “This is Jeremiah; you’ll be traveling with him,” she said. The two looked a pair, as they were both round on all their edges. Jeremiah’s buttons on his tightly fitted undershirt looked like they were about to pop.

“Nice to you meet you, sir,” Mika responded, bowing her head as a sign of respect. Although Mika was frustrated by how fat the mage couple was, since they definitely did not spare a crumb for Sarah, she maintained her facade of a smile. Mika had learned many of the curious customs of mage interactions in the books she’d read. She’d need to master them if she was ever going to serve in a guild. Even as mages, they each had their own place in society. The head bow was just a practical application of what she had studied.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Jeremiah responded joyfully, obviously appreciating Mika’s gesture. He looked just like his wife, except that he was balding, with round, rosy cheeks and two chins. Together, they looked like they might have weighed more than three Filth.

Mika had her money ready. Though Ingra had made a deal for one and a half silver, Mika prepared two silver. She did this for two reasons, one being that she knew it was common practice to give a tip to innkeepers. The other reason was because Mika only had four silver and six hundred and forty-two bronze. She did not think it would be smart to pay Ingra with more than fifty bronze.

Normally a bank would cut coins in half or into quarters to alleviate the need for many small coins. Each half of a silver would be worth fifty bronze. Only banks were authorized to cut coins. All currency in the kingdom had magic on it that prevented illegal cuts. If a cut was made illegally, the coin would be vaporized by the spell. One purpose of the magic was to prevent counterfeit; the other was to prevent Filth from accumulating too much wealth.

If a Filth possessed a silver it would raise too many questions. So they typically held onto only bronze. That was why Mika carried so many bronze coins with her. Sam had never exchanged any of the bronze they earned into silver, to avoid suspicion. It was legal to save money, but saving too much would raise suspicion that a Filth was planning to abandon their mage without approval. Since it was difficult to manage so many coins, it was a disincentive for Filth to save.

Mika no longer feared those consequences. She was now passing as a mage, so she would have to exchange her coin for silver later. Since Mika did not have any cut silver, she thought it was best to just give Ingra two; it was worth the extra coin to keep from drawing attention. Mika handed the two silver to Ingra and thanked her for her hospitality.

Ingra grinned at the sight of the two silvers and hugged Mika, which was very awkward for her since she felt nothing personal towards the woman.

“Come back any time you’re around town. Now off you two,”

Ingra said merrily.

Mika followed Ingra’s husband out the door after the couple embraced and said their goodbyes. It was still early in the morning, and raining. Jeremiah had prepared a covered wagon for the trip and had it standing in front of the inn when Mika got outside. The trip of roughly one hundred miles would take less than one day with the wagon being pulled by two horses.

Centuries earlier, the trip would have taken almost a week by wagon. Well-honed horse breeding combined with magic-infused grain gave horses significantly more endurance on long trips. Travel times across Seemos had thus been lessened significantly. This phenomenon gave the illusion that the kingdom was much smaller than it was.

“You can stay out of the weather under the cover of the wagon,” Jeremiah said, explaining the trip all at once. “We are going to travel hard. If you need to stop, let me know, otherwise we are not going to stop, so we can be in Zanark before it gets dark. There is also food in the wagon, so help yourself if you’re hungry.”

Mika nodded and climbed into the wagon. There was a wide variety of things in the back of it, from pieces of furniture to bags of rice, but there was still plenty of room for her. It wasn’t long before she felt the wagon set off with a lurch, heading for Zanark.

Mika decided to pass her traveling time in her books. She had a hard time deciding which to start with, so she reached randomly into her bag and grabbed the first one she touched. Mika was pleasantly surprised with the tiny wooden one, named How to Use Magic.

Although the book was intended for toddlers, Mika needed to read it since she knew next to nothing about magic, let alone how to use it. She opened the first page and began her education in magic with baby steps. Each page had one sentence, and a small illustration of one of the elements.

“The two most important things you must remember about magic is strains and forms.”

“Each mage is born with one strain, and will ever only be able to use one strain.”

“However, the harder you work, the more forms you will be able to use!”

“There are four formulations: Projection, Manipulation, Incantation, and Transformation.”

“Projection is the power to create your strain.”

“Manipulation is the power to move your strain.”

“Incantation is the power to summon your strain.”

“Transformation is the power to become your strain.”

“Your strain comes from your mind! So the more you believe, the more you will be able to control it!”

“One day, if you keep training hard, you will be able to use all forms with your strain. And if you can do that, you might be the next Bishop!”

And just like that, the book was over. Mika had learned all the basics of magic yet understood nearly nothing about it. The concept of strains and forms was bizarre and hard to comprehend. Yet, Mika was an Arcane, someone who could control all strains of magic. She rummaged through the book’s pages a few more times, eventually accepting that it was not going to teach her anything of value. She stuffed the book back into her bag in frustration.

The next book Mika fished out of her rucksack was Who are the Nine Bishops? It was also a thin book intended for children. The book featured large text, drawings, and about two dozen pages.

The book was organized in such a way as to list the Bishops from the time they became Bishops, from oldest to youngest. It began with Bishop Tempest and carried on through Bishop Wild, Bishop Soot, Bishop Frost, Bishop Steel, Bishop Static, Bishop Mistress, Bishop Joker, and Bishop Flame.

Flipping through the book, Mika noticed that it was not intact. Though the publishing date was only a year ago, it was in horrible condition. Pages were missing, and most of the text was faded. Mika did not pay attention to what was missing initially, as she figured she would find out as she read.

She flipped eagerly to the beginning of the book and started with reading about the eldest member, Bishop Tempest. She knew nothing about the Bishops except for general things spoken by fellow Filth around the fire—stories and myths. So the text, which appeared to be primarily factual, interested her. The drawings, on the other hand, seemed fictional: exaggerated depictions of each Bishop, more artistic than realistic.

The biographies answered many questions she’d had about the bishops, including where each mage came from, when they were born, and what magic formulations and strain they could control.

Bishop Tempest was a master of Incantation and Manipulation. He had the power to control the weather of the entire kingdom. His name was Timothy Nellings, and he was born in the east. Tempest had served three kings and was over eighty years old, making him the longest-lived Bishop of all time. He had the reputation of being very quiet. Ironic, Mika thought, given his power to create vicious storms. But Bishop Tempest was the reason Seemos had such a kind climate. There were no floods or droughts, thanks to his incredible ability to stabilize even the worst conditions. He was a supportive mage who had a positive impact on the livelihood of both mages and Filth.

The drawing depicted him dressed in robes from shoulder to toe, with a long white beard and a big pointed hat, standing calmly with his arms open as a magnificent storm unfolded behind him, lightning striking in the background.

The next mage was Bishop Wild, a master of Incantation and Transformation. He had the power to control any animal and could transform himself into any animal. His name was Mason Tingridge. At sixty-two, he was the second oldest member and, despite his age, was renowned for his ability to turn into powerful beasts. His most terrifying beast was the Necromane. No one who has seen him in that form lived to tell about it, the text said. Then how do they know it even exists? Mika thought, laughing as she read. Bishop Wild followed the king’s bidding in the west, primarily, since he could tame the wildlife and blend into the environment. He acted primarily as a skirmishing mage.

The drawing depicted a balding man with a white goatee, sitting on a tree stump in the forest, with hundreds of different types of animals gathered around him, as if he was telling them a story. It was a tranquil scene.

After Bishop Wild, the mages were much younger. Bishop Soot was next in the book, forty-two and the only dark-skinned Bishop. He was a master of Projection, Manipulation, and Transformation.

His name was Darius Tenner. His magic strain was smoke; he could turn into smoke as well as control it. Bishop Soot was known as an assassin. Even though assassination contracts were illegal in Seemos, he was authorized to conduct contract killing on behalf of the king. He operated primarily in the shadows, and because he typically lurked in the background, most people had no idea what he looked like, the book said.

The drawing of Bishop Soot was so faded it was almost impossible to tell what was being depicted. The whole page appeared to have very dark shading with eyes piercing out, so Mika surmised it was showing Soot in the shadows.

As Mika read, she began to better understand strains and formulations. Strains were simply the type of magic a mage was born with. In the case of Bishop Soot, smoke was his strain. While his strain was obvious, the previous two mages were less so. Controlling the weather and being able to talk to animals and turn into them seemed contrary to Mika’s analysis.

The next few pages were also faded and difficult to read. They were about Bishop Frost. All Mika could read was that she was one of the two female Bishops and one of the most powerful. She was master of all four formulations and controlled ice magic.

For a moment, Mika thought back to her dream and her own magic. Her father had said the word frost. Was that related to Bishop Frost? Mika had no context to help her resolve that mystery. She stared at Bishop Frost’s name on the page and tried to decipher the drawing, but the whole page appeared to be smeared. After trying for a while to puzzle out the meaning of her father’s words, Mika began to feel that something was off.

There was no way that all of these instances of the word Frost were coincidental. From freezing the mages in the circus, to her father’s word in her dream, to the Bishop named Frost, Mika was deeply puzzled. She recollected everything that had happened and tried her best to read the illegible words on the pages before her. Unfortunately her questions remained unanswered. All she could do was continue reading the book.

Bishop Static was a master of Projection, Manipulation, and Transformation. His magic strain, the book said, was a subject of debate because he was so fast. Some argued he controlled light, while others said lightning. All agreed that he was as fast as both. His name was Kindred Fantar, and he was only thirty-seven.

The drawing of Bishop Static was puzzling because it didn’t make much sense, based on the descriptions of his magic. The picture depicted a handsome, fair-skinned man with blond hair in various poses in a tavern. He was standing at the bar talking to the bartender, but also at a table gambling with some of the patrons, and even talking to a girl at the far end of the scene. They didn’t appear to be clones, but the same man. Mika imagined him somehow being in many places at once in real life and wondered how this could correspond with the description of his powers.

The second female Bishop was Bishop Mistress, considered one of the most beautiful mages in the kingdom. Her name was Veronika Caldwell and she was only twenty-four when she became a Bishop. Now she was thirty-six. Bishop Mistress’s strain was stone. Her magic was mysterious, but it was said she could turn anyone into stone merely by making eye contact—ironic, because it was also said no man could take his eyes off her.

The drawing of her made Mika smile. Bishop Mistress, depicted as a slender woman with long, silver hair and blue eyes, was walking down the middle of a street between two columns of men. The men in front of her path appeared to be whistling and waving her on, while the men she had already passed had been turned into statues. It was a funny spectacle, and Mika wondered if the men she’d turned into stone could ever return to normal.

The last three sections of the book were in the worst condition. Mika was disappointed to find the youngest members of the Bishops would remain the biggest mystery, since most of their pages were either faded or missing.

The only thing she could discern about Bishop Steel was that he was the strongest known mage and practically indestructible. He typically fought with weapons made of steel, giving him his name. Other than that, her only other clues came from the drawing, which showed him wearing a full set of armor and kneeling at an altar. His face was hidden beneath a helmet, and he was holding a giant longsword with the point facing down. The drawing revealed nothing about his power, though there was a majestic aura about him.

Even more mysterious than Steel was the Bishop Joker. All of his (or her) pages had been ripped out of the book. But based on the position in the book, Joker had to be younger than twenty-eight.

The last Bishop just had one page and no drawing. All Mika could make out from Bishop Flame’s page was that he was the youngest Bishop, just nineteen when he became Bishop—the youngest Bishop of all time. His name was Axel Vandigo, and he came from a prestigious family that produced fire mages, which was one reason he had become so powerful at such a young age.

Even though the book was woefully incomplete, Mika had learned a lot from it. Most Filth avoided talking openly about the Bishops because of their unpleasant associations; they frequently captured and killed both Filth and mages who opposed King Fallon’s rule. It was considered bad luck to even speak about them out loud.

But Mika wanted to know everything about them. Though Sam had never said so directly, she had surmised one of the Bishops—she didn’t know which—had killed her family. Any Bishop could have done it, except for Steel, the Joker, and the Flame, who were all too young at the time. Bishop Flame had joined them after Bishop Dust passed. That was all she really knew. But Mika felt that the more she knew about the Bishops, the better prepared she would be to face them if she had to.

If she really was an Arcane, as Sam had said, and she could master her magic, then she would be able to avenge her family. That was her only goal for now. The goal in itself did not feel right, but it was the only thing Mika could think of doing with her newfound heritage. Being the rightful heir to the throne, it was her duty. The enormity of this task was almost more than she could imagine. She had no idea how she would accomplish it, but somehow she knew that becoming more powerful than the Bishops was the place to start.

There’s so much I still don’t know, Mika thought. Why were my father, mother, and brother killed? How did I survive?

There was so much she had wanted to ask her uncle before they parted, but there wasn’t the time. Mika understood now that she might never learn the answers. Yet, as she sat alone in the cocoon of the gently rocking covered wagon, listening to the muffled sounds of the horses’ hooves plodding on the dusty road to Zanark, she found herself grateful she had answers to yearn for. That, she realized, would give her the drive to persevere through the loneliness she was beginning to feel without her beloved uncle Sam, and all the challenges that lay ahead.

She was going Home. Though she had no idea what to expect, Mika knew that was where she could master her skills. Mages came from all over Seemos to join mages’ guilds, where they could improve their abilities. She had no idea how to control her magic right now, but Home was a place where she could learn.

With that thought, Mika closed the book and opened the other, The War Eagles: The Best Guild in Seemos. The book struck her as much more practical, since it would help her learn more about the guild she wanted to join.

It was thicker than the other book, the content blander. There were no pictures, just acres of fine print. Still, it didn’t dull Mika’s appreciation for the War Eagles, which she had heard was commonly praised as the best guild in Seemos. It boasted some of the best mages of all time. All members of the guild bore the screaming eagle tattoo, one she hoped to attain one day. Admittance to guilds could be competitive, and Mika was determined to learn everything she could about the War Eagles, to give her the best chance of expertly fielding questions about their history during the application process.

For the rest of the way to Zanark, Mika studied the book. It was a monotonous read, a collection of reviews of the War Eagle’s history and endeavors, explained in excruciating detail. Since the book was a collaboration among various writers, most of the events were told repeatedly, from a variety of perspectives. Bored, Mika slowly began to doze.

An abrupt stop by the wagon woke her into a sudden fright, since she’d never felt the sensation before. Wide awake now, Mika heard Jeremiah hop off the front and approach the back of the wagon. She had no idea how much time had passed or why they had come to such a sharp halt.

With a start, she realized the potential danger she was in. She couldn’t see what was going on, but she heard a muffled crowd murmuring around her. Was this all a trap? Mika began to quietly panic. It was possible the Hunters had finally caught up to her, despite her intentions to lie low. Heart pounding, she berated herself for her risky decision to take a ride from a stranger.

As she heard footsteps approach the back of the wagon, Mika prepared to make a break for it as soon as she saw a good opportunity. The back flap of the wagon shot open. She was all set to run, when she heard Jeremiah’s cheerful words: “Welcome to the City of Bricks.”