The Guardian's Apprentice (Beyond the Veil) (2 page)

“Thank you Alex, but as I said I do not seek this office.
 
I am happy with my position as it is.”

Ducat sat down as he looked in shock at Phineas.
 
“You’re refusing?
 
You can’t refuse, Phineas, the vote is binding.”

As if to emphasize his point, the crystalline sphere that hovered high above the Council table slowly descended, shifting from a blue-white glow to one faintly tinged with red.
 
The crystal, often referred to as the Oracle, had existed since the beginning of the Council when the two worlds were first separated.
 
No one was quite sure where it had come from, but the object radiated pure power and had occasionally intervened in Council affairs.
 
On the rare occasion a debate turned violent, the orb sometimes chose to petrify both participants by encasing them in crystal.
 
By the time the crystal faded – usually five or six days – tempers were usually subdued and the witches or wizards involved much more humble.

Even Phineas took notice of the crystal’s descent, rising from his chair to look directly at the orb.
 
Although he was the leader of his sect, as long as he held the post of Guardian, his robes were a shimmering non-color to signal his service to the Council as a whole and all three orders.
 
He stared at the crystal long and hard for what seemed like an eternity, until finally nodding his head with a sigh.

“It seems I have no alternative but to accept the will of the Council,” he said with a touch of resignation in his voice.

The various witches and wizards around the table nodded and smiled, murmuring their agreement (and relief) that Phineas had agreed to the vote.
 
Even a couple of the Black order seemed pleased at the decision, except for Portia.
 
A highly volatile witch prone to outbursts, she was obviously seething at the decision.
 
Cedric on the other hand remained quiet and sat with an almost stoic expression on his face.
 
Ducat rose once again, turning to face Phineas who continued to gaze at the Oracle.

“We are all grateful Phineas, as the Council desperately needs your leadership.
 
You will of course have to step aside as Guardian to assume your new post, so the Council will need to name your successor.”

“Oh, that will not be necessary, my friend,” said Phineas as he finally turned away from the crystalline orb which had returned to its normal blue-white glow.

“I’m sorry Phineas, but you have no apprentice.
 
Therefore the Council has no choice but to name a new Guardian.”

“I will be naming my apprentice shortly, Alex,” he said with a gleam in his eye.
 
“The young man is quite capable and will learn quickly.
 
I will of course bring him before the Council to that he
may be tested
, as is required.
 
Until such time Alex, I would put it to the Council that you remain as acting Chancellor until I may assume the duties.”

“Very well, Phineas, but I must say this is all highly irregular.”

“Trust me my friend, I will send for my apprentice at once,” said Phineas as his rose from his seat.
 
Raising his staff in the air, a sharp crackle resounded across the room as a portal snapped open.
 
Within seconds, the old wizard stepped through and was gone, leaving the other Council members to exchange puzzled glances.

###

Phineas sat in his study staring absently out his window, watching the swans on the lake below.
 
Having served for over two hundred years now, as measured by the mortals, he had watched from the ancient citadel of Pahret T’pur as events unfolded and transformed his world.
 
His robes shimmered in the autumn twilight, changing colors slightly as he shifted in his chair.
 
He smiled and nodded his thanks as Mrs. Hoskins, the castle caretaker, brought him a fresh cup of tea.
 
She was the one resident of the castle that had been here longer than he had.
 
No one knew exactly how long she had been at the castle, and if you asked, she would just smile and say
“Not long enough, dear.”

Perhaps it was the wisdom that comes with having lived for as long as he had, or perhaps it was merely the realization that a once pure ideal for governing
had become twisted
into a conduit for those seeking power, but he found that Council politics no longer interested him.
 
He focused now on what lay ahead.
 
Like the White order, he did not believe that the world of science was ready to be joined with that of magic; however, he did not share his
order’s
near xenophobic attitudes demanding complete isolation.
 
Slowly, as the years passed, he began allowing a few more incursions into the mortal world.
 
A portal here and a passage there, a lonely witch or wizard seeking a mortal mate or even a curious warlock with an interest in the latest scientific advancements – all were granted permission to cross the Veil and allowed to pass unhindered to the non-magical world.
 
Phineas believed strongly that this intermingling was crucial to the survival of both worlds.
 
Wizards, witches and warlocks on this side of the Veil needed those from the other side to ensure the wizarding world did not lose its humanity.
 
With each new generation of wizards, the humans on this side of the Veil became less human and more magical, like the elves, sprites and faeries.
 
In a few more generations, the human race on this side of the Veil would cease to exist, becoming undistinguishable from the other magical races.
 
Likewise, the world of science needed the constant infusion of magic to survive.
 
As technology spread, the spark of life in the world dimmed as people focused on productivity and the ‘bottom line.’
 
The people on that side of the Veil needed the constant influx of magic to keep that spark alive and prevent the world from becoming a cold and unfeeling place where dreams were no more.

 
The increasing number of crossings had gone largely unnoticed by those on the Council, who were more concerned with who was to represent which order and who would be chosen to serve as Chancellor.
 
Although Phineas allowed a few more crossings each year, a sudden, dramatic lifting of the partition between the two dimensions would be catastrophic, like matter and anti-matter in the same room.
 
Why, can you imagine if while fetching the morning paper one day you were to discover that a gnome had taken up residence in your azaleas?
 
Perhaps a great northern dragon would decide that the runway at Kennedy airport looked like a perfect place for it to nest and raise its hatchlings.
 
No, the Veil had to lift gradually, with the two worlds blending slowly over the span of hundreds of years or more.
 
As magic became more and more commonplace in the realm of science, the more acceptable such a thing would be or so he hoped.
 
He could accomplish this now that he was to become the next Chancellor, as he would be able to influence the other orders and deflect attention from his handpicked successor.
 
That part would be simple enough.
 
The hard part was convincing his successor to take the job.

Long ago, the Council had decreed that one family from each order
would be entrusted
with the responsibility of serving as Guardians.
 
The Whitestone family, taking their name from their ancestral home in England, were considered to be moderates in the order of white and so were entrusted with the task first.
 
The Thornbacks, long considered one of the most powerful wizarding families,
were selected
by the order of Black, while the Ducat family served for the Grey.
 
While the Guardian was allowed
to
return to the Council upon choosing a replacement, in the event of an untimely death the nine elected Council members would choose between the three permanent members as to who would serve next.
 
Likewise, even a Guardian’s hand picked apprentice must first pass approval by the Council prior to taking the position.
 
This process had very nearly sparked a war when the Grey and the White orders vetoed the nomination of Tondil Thornback, considered by most to be a complete idiot.
 
His father Willit had chosen him as an apprentice, but when the Council refused, he had attempted to seize the staff of office by force for his son and keep the Guardianship within his line.
 
Too late did Willit realize this was one of those times when the Oracle would
intervene.
 
The crystal completely incinerated him and his son by a bolt of pure energy, leaving his cousin Cedric to take over as head of the dark wizards.
 
It was then that the role of Guardian had passed to Phineas, whose election was unanimous.

Although Phineas’ last living heir, his grandson Keegan, should be his successor, the boy had no idea of his heritage or abilities.
 
The Council had stripped Keegan’s father of magic and ordered him into exile over one hundred years ago.
 
Forced to live in the mortal world and deprived of magic, Richard had unknowingly conceived Keegan with a mortal woman.
 
When she showed up with Keegan in her arms, he had rejected them both immediately, however upon her death a few years later he
was forced
to take the boy into his home.
 
According to the information retrieved by Acamar and others, Phineas learned the boy had drifted away from his father and had not seen the man in the years preceding his death.

Although Phineas knew the family ring had passed down to Keegan when Richard died, he knew that the boy had no idea of his heritage, much less what the ring meant.
 
This then was his challenge; to somehow convince this young man that (1) there was such a thing as magic and (2) he had a good deal of it in his blood and finally (3) he would have to forsake all he currently knew and loved to become the Guardian’s apprentice.
 
It had to be done, but who to send?
 
His eyes strayed to the big black cat curled up asleep on the hearth.

“Maybe I’ll go for a walk along the lake,” he said to himself, rising from his chair.
 

He took up his staff and walked out, taking one last glance back at the cat who had barely opened his eyes and then went back to sleep.

***

The sun was slowly setting over the castle, changing the sky into brilliant hues of orange and red, which reflected off the lake and caused an almost eerie double image.
 
As usual, there were birds singing in the background and tree frogs beginning to call in the distance.
 
Phineas looked out across the landscape before him, taking in the beauty surrounding what had
been his home
for so long.
 
After years of tumult, controversy and political bickering, he had been the longest to serve as Guardian.

It is time.
 
I shall truly miss the place
he thought, muttering under his breath.
 
His long, shimmering robes billowed out behind him in the breeze as he strode along the pathway, staff in hand.
 
He turned and walked through the archway into the courtyard, the heels of his boots striking the cobblestones with a harsh clatter as he quickly reached the Great Hall.
 
As he went deeper into the darkness, the top of his staff began to glow with a cool blue-white light, giving his wizened features a more frightening look.

“Acamar!” he shouted.
 
“Acamar!
 
It’s time!”

The door in front of him creaked open slowly, just enough for him to pass.
 
Phineas went through into a small room, in the middle of which sat a large black cat who at the moment was staring intently at him, ears flattened and eyes barely slits.

“Don’t give me that look, Acamar,” said Phineas.
 
“I warned you the time was drawing near when we would have to act.”

Acamar did not say anything, just flicked his tail and continued to stare, as if trying to bore a hole through the old wizard.

Phineas leaned on his staff and sighed.
 

“I’m tired my friend.
 
My time as Guardian is ending and we must find my successor.
 
I’ve been putting the Council off for far too long as it is.”

Except for an irritated twitch of his long black tail, the cat did not as much as blink.
 

“If I refuse them again, the various factions will begin bickering and the entire Council will dissolve into chaos.
 
You know as well as I do I have no choice but to accept the position as Chancellor.”

“You know
‘Old Seedy’
will try to stop you,” the cat responded dryly.
 
“He’s been passed over for the leadership position twice before, so a third
blackball
will really send him over the edge.”