The Consumption of Magic (Tales From Verania 3)

I stood back up.

I took my place next to my King, eyes dry, jaw set.

Good King Anthony of Verania spoke of many things that day. He told his subjects of meeting Morgan for the first time, how nervous he had been, only to find that Morgan had accidentally ingested the spores from a Bentati mushroom that very morning and was actively tripping balls. They’d shaken hands, and then Morgan had so eloquently pointed out the colorful smoke that seemed to be pouring out the King’s nostrils.

He spoke of Morgan’s kindness, of how fair he was, and of how much Morgan loved Verania, how he would have done anything for king and country.

He spoke of Morgan’s strength and power, saying that Morgan had never used his magic in an unjust way. That he protected those who could not protect themselves.

He spoke of Morgan’s friendship, and for a moment his voice broke when he said that losing his wizard was like losing a piece of himself, and he knew that no matter how long he lived, no matter what came next, it was a void that could never be filled.

And then he said, “Morgan of Shadows was many things. The King’s Wizard. My friend and brother. A good, just man. He was bright and funny, sarcastic and sassy when he needed to be. He was a protector and wiser than most of us combined. But if there was one thing he was above all else, one thing he believed himself to be above all his other roles, it was this: he was a mentor.”

The gazes of Verania shifted to me.

Damn him.

“Morgan of Shadows gave his life to protect the one he loved above all others,” the King said. “Many of you might not understand why he did what he did. Some of you might downright hate the decisions he made. But know this: Morgan has been by my side for decades. If he were called upon to lay down his life for his apprentice—for Sam—he would do it again, and again, and again.”

I bowed my head, breath hitching in my chest.

“And know that I would do the same,” the King said, voice stern. “Because I know that Sam of Wilds would do the same for me. And if I have my way, as soon as Randall returns, I will be asking him to appoint Sam of Wilds as the King’s Wizard.”

My head shot up as the crowd gasped.

The King extended his hand toward me.

I stared at it.

“Just take it,” Justin whispered in my ear. “Seriously, don’t been an asshole.”

I turned to glare at him.

He rolled his eyes and shoved me toward his father.

This was wrong.

I hadn’t earned this.

I hadn’t passed the Trials.

I’d failed to collect the last dragon.

I hadn’t beaten Myrin.

Randall had disappeared.

Morgan had sacrificed himself for me.

And Ryan….

“I believe in you,” the King said in a quiet voice, hand still held toward me. “That has never wavered. You may not believe in yourself, but I believe in you. I am asking you to trust me.”

For a moment I considered running back the way I’d come.

Instead I took the hand of the King.

He smiled softly at me. I took a step forward to stand at his side.