Merrick awoke suddenly, pain clear on his face; his dark eyes sought out anything unusual the darkened room. He saw nothing, and hearing Colin’s gentle breathing soothed him. Shaking off his dream he looked to the bed across the room, where he could make out Colin’s sleeping form. Recalling, especially in dream, his mother’s death caused Merrick to loose control of his carefully masked anger.  Unlike Colin, and everyone else in the kingdom, he found the practice of taking the gifted away from their parents barbaric. He believed it should be a one’s choice, not he King’s, whether a child was to be trained in the arcane, Yet he often found himself wondering if the practice had some benefit, but whenever the though came to mind he recalled his mother’s blue eyes, looking sightlessly back at him, he remembered the look on the man who had killed her. The joy, the pride, the ecstasy, running though the man’s face as he pulled cold steel out of his mother.  Then a smile came to Merrick’s face, as his mind took him back to when the soldier had died, and the pride returned, the laughter of knowing that no one had been able to explain the man’s death, A simple yet truly evil spell cast by a boy who should not have been able to make a floating feather move with his magic. Merrick had been eight when he looked into the man’s eyes one last time, “Remember me? Remember my mother?” He had assured himself those would be the last words he would ever hear.

            Colin walked across the room, nearly an hour after dawn Colin watched Merrick sleep, concern passed over his face as he realized that Merrick had spent another near-sleepless night, Merrick had never told him what caused his sleepless nights, but Colin had learned though bits and pieces of overheard conversations that Merrick’s Mother had refused to give her son up to the Academy. From there he knew that something had happened but had never managed to figure it out. He had also heard that Merrick’s unusual thoughts stemmed for the taint of Lithiorian blood running though his veins. He discarded that idea, and had never used Merrick’s mixed heritage against him. He sat at the chair nearest to the balcony and assessed what he knew about his roommate, and took inventory of what he still, after seven years, did not know.  First, Merrick had black hair, not the usual brown or blond that everyone else had, nor the slightly more common red. Merrick was the only person he knew of with black hair, hair that shone like obsidian under the sunlight. And like his father’s dark hair Merrick also possessed dark brown eyes bordering on black, unlike the differing shades of blue, green, hazel and gray that were the pride of Colin’s own people. However, Merrick’s skin was neither his fathers’ nor his mother’s, his skin color lay between the light brown of his father and the pale white of his mother. Merrick could never pass as one of the King’s Own, he was simply to dark, to impure, as they had been taught, to be worthy of anything better than noble. Among his people, the Lithiorians, Merrick would be welcome, yet is appeared to be that he had no intention of moving away to where his own dark kin lived. Colin had a momentary feeling of discomfort, recalling stories that among the Lithiorians there were men and women, whose skin bore the color of ebony, eyes as dark as the moonless sky, a nation where dark hair was common, and much to everyone’s dismay, the people elected their leaders. Some of the idea seemed to have leaked into Merrick, who at a young age asked who appointed their king and what made him worthy of being such. The punishment had been severe, and Merrick’s eyes shifted a shade lighter while he spent several weeks without speaking to anyone, after that the boy never trusted anyone. Colin recalled dimly that his companion had been unable to eat, sit, or sleep as his body healed from the, Colin could only imagine; severe beating the boy had received. What scared Colin the most was the sheer hatred and rage that seemed to perpetually remain on Merrick’s face. Eventually, nearly a year later, Merrick smiled again, and left the entranced state he had slipped into.

            Colin stood and walked to Merrick’s bed, he hesitated for a moment, than reached down and gently shook Merrick awake. The boy’s eyes opened suddenly, “Hey, get up, you’re going to be late” Colin said. Merrick rubbed his eyes and watched Colin step back, noting at the same time the position of the sun against the wall. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Colin asked, knowing that he had not. Merrick shook his head sitting up. He looked up at Colin, “Thanks for waking me, again” he said simply. Colin smiled weakly, “No problem” he said as Merrick left the room, most likely seeking either food or a shower.

            Merrick did in fact seek both, after grabbing a meager breakfast in the kitchens he walked over for a shower. Stepping into one of the bathing rooms he locked the door and sent his mind though the pipes, calling water, hot water, which was the only thing that could awaken him in the mornings, clear his mind of sleep enough to think through the day. As he stepped into the water he remembered that he had his tenth level examinations later that day. He paused for a moment than took a deep breath as he sank into the flow and feel of steam against his lightly olive toned skin. After nearly an hour, when his skin tinted a deep pink color, Merrick let go of the flow of water and stood still as the steam saturating the room began to condense, and he feet a sheen layer of sweat beginning to cover him. He drew the water once again, cold this time, to clean the outside of his body after the heat cleansed his aching soul. As he finished he ran his fingers through his hair smiling to himself as he began to dry himself, wondering if this time the Masters would acknowledge that he had skill enough to raise him up to the thirteenth level of training, as last time they had denied it of him. They had said that his skill lacked focus, but he knew that they disliked him, mainly because of the color of his skin, and the sheer amount of raw power coursing though his veins. In his blood, unlike them, who drew the power from the air around them, they depended on words and gestures to control magic, Merrick merely needed to draw breath to put advanced sorcerers to shame. Slipping into his simple robes, he made his way back to his room.

            Colin had already left to Second Devotion, knowing that he was to be penalized for missing First Call, then again he always missed it, since he spent his mornings watching Merrick sleep. Something in the back of his head told him that there was something that the Masters would not approve of in his morning observing of Merrick. Something that made him feel guilty, he wondered what Merrick would think of him, if he knew what he did every morning.

            “It would please the King if you were to answer First Call, rather than awaking late and attending Second Devotion. You are among His chosen, it is your duty to be one of the first to answer in prayer to the King, the Second Devotion is for the others, the lesser folk, who have no presence in His eyes” Master Kerr scolded as Colin looked ashamed at the ground, “and where is the Half-Breed?” Master Kerr asked suddenly, “The boy needs to be reminded of his place, it is beyond unacceptable that he miss both First Call and Second Devotion” Colin suddenly felt something within him flare, he looked up in challenge “He is always first present at Middle Devotion and Last Call, and he always goes to Weekly Discourse, no one does that, not every week” Master Kerr’s eyes narrowed, “Get to the Holy Court, you are late” he spat out. Colin faced the Master, and for a moment he wondered if this was how Merrick felt whenever he disobeyed the Masters.

            Merrick walked solemnly to the Chamber of Questioning for his examination. As he walked he wondered what Colin was doing, and slightly imaging what Colin’s excuse would be for missing the First Call.  “For in thine Name we stand, for in thy image we shelter, in thy example we humble, in thine Holy Presence we repent, In thy grace we live, For thee we breathe . . .” every morning those words seeped through the walls as the entire kingdom awoke to pray to their god, their King. He had seen the King, he had seen through the illusion, beneath the blinding light, beyond the booming voice, stood nothing more than a man, a powerful sorcerer, Merrick would give him that, very powerful, no one could, or should, see through the magic that the King wove around himself. Yet Merrick could see, Merrick knew that a well-aimed arrow would kill these people’s god. Their shining seducer, their self-proclaimed Father. He knew that the king did not follow his own moral code, for if anyone were to ever seek beyond the Palace walls he would find whores, the King’s own sex-slaves. The Palace’s playthings, stripped of clothing, dignity and names, they were the property of midnight cravings. Yet the King called such thoughts evil and perverse, he called the women who engaged in such activities less than human, yet he took girls and took everything away from them for his own desire. Much like the gifted boys and girls were taken from their families. Merrick had no respect for the King, but he had to keep the illusion of devotion about himself, and very much like the King wove light around himself. Merrick attended the Discourses, which served him twofold, on one hand everyone thought him devout and the King never suspected a thing, save for the occasion when Merrick forgot his place and contradicted the King, which had happened less and less often. And at the same time, he could see into the thoughts of many of the high ranking members of the government. They did not know that last bit of information, Merrick had discovered that he was the only person who could see beyond the magic for the sorcerers, not even the King. Merrick could also slip through any shield, and much to his amusement, he had once walked into the Kings own Bedchamber, having never disturbed a spell, set off an alarm or been seen.

            Merrick waited for the Masters to call him in. as he stood he build shields around himself, preparing for the usual bombardment of their minds trying to peer into him. He always managed to let them seep into his mind for the fraction of a second, simply to frustrate them all the more. But this time he prepared to let them see only what they wanted to see: a once rebellious boy who had finally come to realize his errors and willing to accept the guidance of the Masters.  Master Lynne opened the door, she motioned for Merrick to enter the room, the moment Merrick passed through the door he felt the first mind begin to probe at his soul, trying to sink into his aura. He felt the other’s mind’s slip into his carefully woven illusion, he felt  them accept it, he felt them smile within, he felt them believe that they had finally broken him. The first part of the test was over. Now came the spells.

            While the Masters prepared for the nest part of the exam, Merrick took the time to take stock of the room, Twenty chairs stood in a semi-circle facing the door. Seven women and thirteen men filled these. The Masters of Examination, suppocedly the most powereful sorcerers beneath the King himself, behind them extended a row of columns that supported the non-visible roof over a hundred feet above them, the Chamber was circular as magic seemed to prefer running in circles, making easier for the Masters to observe. Between the columns and the wall were several feet of walkway. Where other Masters would, on occasions, come in to observe progress. The Chamber remained in a perpetual twilight closer to the floor, reaching a midnight feel towards the roof. The purpose was most likely to add a sense of drama to the test, a bit of fear, seeing as Merrick found no practical nor magical purpose.

            Finally, after what would seem like an hour to anyone else, save Merrick, on who the anxiety spell woven into the Chamber had no effect on, the Masters motioned for him to step forward. Merrick stepped into the center of the circle, letting his illusion leak a bit of fear into the air, enough to fool the Masters, not enough to make them suspicious. “Young Merrick, are you prepared to respond to the Chamber’s magic?” The woman the left-most seat asked, Merrick faced her, “I am, Mistress Dyal” Mistress Dyal nodded once, “Remain alive” she stated, and Merrick sensed the magic begin to flow around him, He cleared his mind, and when he opened his mind he let go of his hold on his magic, feeling the magic form into the illusion of an army marching toward him. He smiled as he wove in his mind the spell of confusion, he smiled as the soldiers turned on each other and quickly and efficiently, killed themselves. Seeming an anticlimactic victory. Merrick waited for his nest instructions as outside the sun reached its zenith.