hiding the magic - Warhammer Fantasy:Steel and gunpowder

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Pflugzeit 17th ,2488 IC

"I don't know… I'm far too old to take on an apprentice. And certainly not one so… troublesome," said the old man with a tired smile.

"Troublesome? You barely know me," I replied, staring at him seriously.

"You're too young to understand," he murmured as he removed the medallion hidden beneath his robe and, without asking, placed it around my neck.

The reaction was immediate. I felt an unbearable pressure in my chest, as if something inside me had been violently released. A heavy pressure weighing down on my chest. Deeply unpleasant.

"What… did you do to me…?" I asked with difficulty, the air barely leaving my lips.

"You can't understand it yet," said the mage, placing a hand on my shoulder. "The winds of Chamon swirl around you like a vortex. I've never seen such intense affinity—maybe in a White Tower elf… but you attract them more than even my own amulet can conceal. Even now, you're still releasing magic, like an apprentice who has only just awakened."

I tried to say something, but the old man continued, limping slowly as he spoke.

"I felt you the moment you approached the city. It was like a tide of magic centered in one place. I thought a cataclysm was coming… and I wasn't entirely wrong. What puzzles me is something else: why haven't daemons found you yet? A soul like yours should attract them like flies to a corpse. Perhaps… someone is protecting you. Some god."

He stopped in front of me and took a deep breath before continuing.

"If I'm to consider you my apprentice, you must know I don't have much time left. I could only teach you the basics—just enough to keep you from destroying yourself. That's why I have to ask you something essential: when did your sensitivity first manifest?"

"Two weeks and a few days ago," I answered honestly. "The sensations were unbearable… they forced me to shut myself in. Going outside was overwhelming."

"Even more surprising," said the mage with a mix of awe and concern. "Such affinity in so little time, and no daemon chasing you. Someone is definitely protecting you… could it be Sigmar, perhaps? He protects those who fight Chaos. Or do you follow Ulric?"

"I'm a Sigmarite, like my father," I replied firmly. "He fought against mutants and Chaos worshippers wherever they hid."

"That might explain it," murmured the old man. "You never know who's watching from the other side. Well, I see you've managed some control over your sensitivity. But tell me… can you channel the winds to search for specific things, or do they just overwhelm you?"

I shook my head.

"I can't. Either I lose control, or I feel nothing."

The old man clicked his tongue, grimacing slightly.

"You're wearing thick clothes… that means you fear oxidizing or melting the metal you touch. Can you control that too?"

"Yes," I replied with more confidence. "I figured it out while working in my lab. I can choose when to oxidize something… or remove rust."

"Really? That's unusual. That ability usually emerges much later, after years of study. But it makes sense… you developed it to keep fulfilling your noble duties, didn't you?" the old man asked, reading me with unsettling ease.

"That's right," I answered bluntly.

"And tell me… can you melt metals at will?"

"That's how I made steel. I melted iron and combined it with charcoal while it was still liquid," I explained.

"Impressive…" the old man murmured, crossing his arms. "You have more talent than I thought. And you progress fast. Very fast…"

He turned to his table, pushing aside books and jars.

"Let's try this…" the mage said as he picked up a vial and showed it to me. Inside was a small dull ingot. "This is lead. One of Chamon's favorite metals. Close your eyes, try to channel the winds. Sense its presence… observe it without looking, get to know it… touch it to feel its texture," he added with a smile.

He let go of the ingot, and I dropped it immediately as I moved my hand. "Lead is dangerous if mishandled. It's toxic," I replied naturally.

"Too much knowledge for someone so young," the old man said, bending down with difficulty to pick the metal back up.

"Then use your other senses. Try it. I'll stabilize you if you lose control," he said, raising a finger.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. As I had done when creating steel, I forced the energy to move within me. This time, I guided it toward my ears and nose.

"You're releasing too much. Try to limit it more, or you'll lose control," the mage warned, limping in circles around me.

I nodded silently and obeyed. I imagined lowering the voltage in a circuit, controlling the energy flow. I immediately felt the magic inside me begin to calm… to settle.

"Good… perfect. Continue. You're stabilizing on your own," the mage said, sounding pleased.

Then I began to feel it. First my chainmail, then the sword at my side, the coins in my pocket, the rivets in my boots. One by one, the metals around me began to vibrate in my senses. Then I felt the lead. It was duller, denser, but it was there… in the mage's hand. I recognized it by the way it conveyed its weight and density in my mind.

Slowly, I began to see the shapes. With my eyes closed, I could make out the contours of my armor. I could see the lead ingot in his hand. And beyond that, more. Everything metal in the room became perceptible. But the brightest, the most intense of all, was the pigment on the table. It pulsed like an encapsulated sun, drawing attention even among the sea of metallic objects.

"Perfect… you learn quickly," said the mage, pleased. "Perhaps there's hope that I'll leave a good wizard behind before Morr comes to take me."

Then his expression grew more serious.

"But my amulet is nowhere near enough to conceal all the winds you attract. So I recommend you avoid Sigmar's temples. Avoid other licensed mages. Not even the Gold College. At least… not for a few years. Not until you learn how to hide what you carry inside."

That instantly made me tense. I frowned.

"That's going to be a big problem… in three months I have to go to court. In Altdorf. Right next to Sigmar's Cathedral and all the damned Colleges of Magic," I muttered through clenched teeth, feeling the weight return to my chest.

"Then don't go. Seems like a simple solution," the wizard said, shrugging as he turned his attention back to the pigment vial with clear interest.

"That's not an option. I have a legal dispute with the Margrave of Helmgart. He claims I'm his ward, and therefore that he should be the regent of my lands. If I don't show up to the hearing, I'll automatically lose the case for defying the magistrates. Or… I'd have to pay bribes so large I can't possibly gather the money in time. Which would leave me in the same position as if I were locked away in the College of Magic."

"Not so simple, I see…" he muttered, eyeing my pigment. "But something comes to mind… I have people who owe me favors. I might be able to get you something useful. Useless to most wizards, but perfect for you," he said at last, sealing the vial and heading for the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To see a very old friend," the mage replied.

He didn't speak further, and I simply followed. The old man climbed into one of my carriages and just pointed in the direction we should go. After a few blocks, I realized we were nearing Elftown.

"We're going to see an elf?" I asked as we approached the entrance.

"Yes, a very old friend," said the mage. "Have your guards stay outside. We won't be well received if you go in with armed escort."

I nodded, and once we reached the gate, I ordered almost all my escort to remain there, letting only two guards follow us, and even they left their swords behind.

We began entering Elftown, and I could feel the piercing stares of the local elves fall upon us. I noticed guards watching from rooftops and walls, and even residents pausing to observe.

We walked for a few minutes until we reached a shop beautifully adorned, with a noticeable concentration of magic lingering in the air.

"Here we are… help me down… I'm not made for this anymore," said the mage.

I helped him down, making sure he kept the vial with him. He hobbled with effort, and I followed close behind, straightening my cloak.

"Well, if it isn't young Hieronymus. To what do I owe the pleasure today?" said an elf with a smile, speaking in Reikspiel as he looked at the old mage.

"Young… yesterday I almost had to convince Morr not to take me with him," Hieronymus replied with a cheerful tone.

"You mortals… so fleeting… and yet you always seem to forget that," the elf said, and then turned to me. "Ah… I see you've taken on a mortal apprentice. He's quite talented… but he's wearing your—" the elf narrowed his eyes as he studied me.

"You felt it, didn't you?" said Hieronymus. "Here he is. We need your expertise to hide this," he added, pointing at me. "Take off the amulet."

I nodded and removed the medallion, instantly feeling the weight in my chest vanish. It was difficult to keep control of my powers.

"Impressive… and dangerous," the elf said, watching me.

I noticed glances from outside—several elf guards were peeking in to watch me.

I put the medallion back on, and the pressure returned.

"I need one of your medallions… one of the elven kind, from Ulthuan. A proper one. I need it to suppress all his resonance while I train him. Consider it repayment for that time I saved your life," said Hieronymus.

"I could've saved myself…" the elf muttered in another language I couldn't understand. "With this, our debt is settled," he said before stepping into the back of his shop. I heard noises coming from the workshop for several minutes.

Eventually, the elf returned with a medallion stored inside what looked like an expensive container.

"Here you have the finest creation I've ever crafted. It's forged from pure ithilmar, extracted from the deep veins of Lothern. I worked it during the equinox, in a workshop lent to me by a colleague in Saphery, under the indirect supervision of a librarian from the White Tower of Hoeth. May his name remain unspoken, as he requested."

He passed his finger over the spiral engraved on the surface.

"The spiral isn't decoration. It's a dissolution glyph, etched in silver during the full moon's rise. It doesn't block magic… it redirects it. Folds it inward."

He turned the medallion with two fingers, revealing the back.

"The crystal you see here is a Star Crystal from Cothique. Very old. It fell from the sky—or so my people say. It captures and disperses the Winds around it. It doesn't eliminate them, but it makes them… confused. Unsteady. Diffuse like fog over an open sea. Anyone unable to see past the surface will notice nothing," the elf concluded.

"Go on, try it," said the mage, placing the pigment vial on the elf's table. The elf examined it with intense curiosity.

I changed medallions and immediately noticed a difference. The massive pressure in my chest faded, replaced by a faint, nearly imperceptible one.

"Much better…" said Hieronymus. "I can barely sense you now. A bit more training and you'll be ready."

I looked at the elf, who had opened my vial and was doing something with his hand, visibly amazed by the pigment.

"Could this serve for ink in enchantments…? Very fine material. The best thing you've ever made," he said to the mage.

But the old man only shook his head and pointed at me. "I teach him magic, and he teaches me alchemy… an equivalent exchange," he said with a smile.

"The Chamon resonance is strong… it will be useful for many fine enchantments," said the elf, still marveling at my creation.

"Master elf…" I said respectfully, "could I acquire some of your goods… like those—?"

"NO… mortal," the elf cut me off. "My dealings with Hieronymus are because he saved me from a daemon during an elven rune expedition. But I would never sell Ulthuan magic items to a human," he said, crossing his arms.

"Well, I must go now… I need to pick up a few more things," said the mage, stepping out of the shop, and I followed, silently cursing the elf.

"Well… one more stop and we return to my lab," said Hieronymus.