Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [126]
Elmara's thoughts raced. "Ah," she began, "I…"
Myrjala held up a restraining hand. "Later," she said with a smile. "When you're ready." She made a face, and added, "And when you've learned just how much salt to put into soup."
They laughed together then, for the first time.
Fourteen
NO GREATER FOOL
Know this, mageling, and know it well: there is no greater fool than a wizard. The greater the mage, the greater the fool, because we who work magic live in a world of dreams, and chase dreams… and in the end, dreams undo us.
Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun
Words To Would-Be Apprentices
Year of the Sword and Stars
Fire was born, swirling into furious life where the air had been empty moments before. Swiftly it grew in two places in the huge cavern, until Elmara's intent face was lit by two huge spheres of flame. A double-throated roar began, rising in tone and fury as the spinning spheres grew larger. El stared from one whirling conflagration to the other, sweat running down her face like water over rocks and dripping steadily from her chin. Across the chamber, Myrjala stood unmoving, watching expressionlessly. The twin fireballs grew even larger, seeming to pluck flames from the air as they rolled over and over.
"Now!" El whispered, more to herself than to her teacher, and brought her trembling arms together.
Obediently the two huge spheres of flame moved, pinwheeling across the cavern toward each other. Elmara took one careful pace backward without looking away from the flames, and then another. It was as well to be far away when the two fiery spheres-touched!
There was a blinding flash of light, as tortured tongues of flame leapt wildly out in all directions; the cavern rocked with the force of the mighty blast. Heat rolled over Elmara, and the force of the explosion smashed into her, plucked her from her feet and hurled her spinning back into-nothing. The fury of the blast roared past her, and slowly died away. El found herself floating motionless in midair as the echoes of the explosion boomed and rolled around her and rocks and dust fell on her from the unseen ceiling far above.
"Myrjala?" she asked the darkness anxiously. "Teacher?"
"I'm fine," a calm voice replied from very near at hand, and El felt herself turning in the air to look into the dark, intent eyes of the older sorceress, who was floating upright in midair beside her. Myrjala's bare body was as dusty and sweat-dewed as her own; around them, the cavern was still uncomfortably hot.
Myrjala leaned forward and touched El's arm. They began to descend. "To protect us both," she explained, "I had to spin my spell shield around you, then make it pull me into it; my apologies if I startled you."
El waved that away as they sank to the cavern floor together. "My apologies," she said, "for working too powerful an inferno for this space-"
Myrjala smiled, and dismissed those words with a wave of her own. "This was what I intended. You followed my instructions perfectly-something many apprentices never manage in twice the years of study you've had."
"I had experience in following dictates in my time as a priestess," Elmara said, settling to the still-warm stone floor.
Myrjala shrugged. "As much as any adventurer-priestess, perhaps. You were given a goal, and forged your own way toward it." She bent to pluck up her robe from the floor and mop her face with it. "True obedience is learned by folk who spend years drudging away at some endless task, with little hope of betterment or reward, following petty orders issued by small folk who've mastered the tyrant's whip or tongue without any real power to deserve such swagger."
"Was that thy experience?" El asked teasingly, and Myrjala rolled her eyes.
"More than once," she replied. "But seek not to divert my attention from your schooling-you can hurl spells as well as some archmages, but you've not yet mastered them all." She leaned forward, speaking earnestly. "One who has truly mastered sorcery