The Gate

  The shock of thick curly red hair occupied ninety percent of young Gwendolyn Wizarian's visible spectrum. That hair bounced and flung itself side to side as she skipped along. In her standard green overalls and orange shirt, she looked like a living poppy. A poppy. On fire.

  Day done. School out. Fights won. Home time. Not even any homework, today's loser would be doing that for her tonight. She'd be totally free to do whatever, and Gwendolyn was used to doing exactly as she liked. All the time.

  Gwen was more than a handful. Only her family dared call her Gwendolyn. At least, more than once.

  She had been born with the grey eyes of a wizard, like much of her family. Gwen's were exceptionally pale blue-grey. A genetic carryover; only those with grey eyes were able to draw Power.

  The ability to work Power was carried on the X chromosome. The greyer the eyes, the more adept the person could possibly become. Though, of course, reason, creativity, and personality played the greatest role in a Wizard's success. Those three were Gwendolyn's other issues/virtues.

  Gwen was immensely intelligent and lively. She was also mean, wielding her abilities to bully other children.

  By the time she was eight, she was beginning to focus Power, years earlier than most. Entrance to the Creopian Power Arcanum was set at a minimum age of twelve. That four year gap, Gwendolyn reigned as a queen of terror on the playground.

  Gwendolyn was the daughter of Marian Wizarian. Not her fault. Marian had been a Vel before marriage. “Marian Vel” rolled off the tongue easy, nicer, simpler, and remained her preferred name. A well respected Wizard, Marian Vel had spent her childless years serving as a military non-combatant - de-enchanting mines.

  Like Gwendolyn, Marian was a strong personality herself, used to dictating the actions of those around her. This mindset imprinted on young Gwendolyn. If the world wasn't the way you wanted, change the world. Gwendolyn had just taken that a few steps too far.

  Her father, Luis, remained in the military as a Squad Leader. “Dad works to change the world the way I want.”, Marian would smile and say. Family duty.

  “To be a Wizarian was to be a wizard,” or so the saying went. Gwen was a Wizarian. One of the oldest and most powerful wizard families, giving their family name to define the work.

  The term remained even after the family were no longer the most powerful wizarding family. True, many of the most powerful wizards still came from the Wizarian line, but it was no longer the certainty it once was.

  At the moment, and at intervals over the centuries, Marian's Vel family was regarded as the most powerful. A second cousin currently held the Wizard King seat.

  With one short exception, an accident with poison, Vels had held the seat for the past twenty years.

  Gwen was also of Vel lineage. No one doubted she would be a Wizard. No one could have predicted she would become Gremfel Wizarian, Wizard King for more than 30 years, member of the Quorum, Sinker of the Messo, and so on.

  Gwen skipped up to the garden gate, delighted by the rusty old contraption. It was so simple. The fence post bore a small flange shaped like a “v.” The gate’s metal latch, held taut by a spring, compressed as it closed and snapped neatly into the groove, locking it fast.

  No Power. No maintenance beyond the odd paint job and occasional oiling of squeaky hinges. The squeak and clang of the gate were always an announcement of Gwen's arrival. It let the servants, a.k.a. her parents, know she was home.

  Gwen's mother was sitting in the main room with a couple of other men she didn't know when she burst through the door. None of my interest, thought Gwen, and headed upstairs to her room.

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  “Gwendolyn! Come back down, please,” Marian called.

  Gwen winced. Her mother knew she preferred “Gwen.”

  “I have a lot of homework, Mom!” Gwen yelled back and continued up the stairs.

  Marian said, “Gwendolyn wizarian! Come here now!” like a whip's crack.

  Foof! Gwen's mother had thrown Power into that command. Gwen found herself back down at the foot of the stairs before she realized. Something was up.

  Even at her most mischievous, Gwen's mother had used Power on her child perhaps twice before. It was the equivalent of a spanking as far as non-Power parental discipline went. This made its use highly questionable against a child and often illegal to use against an average citizen.

  It wouldn't work on anyone who was trained, only on children and those who couldn't shield. There were methods for detecting its use.

  Perhaps a lingering impulse made her stay, curious to see what was happening. Gwen walked into the room.

  “I don't like forced curtsies,” Gwen said.

  Marian said, “Gentlemen, this is my daughter, Gwendolyn wizarian. Gwendolyn ...”

  Gwen said, “Gwen.”

  Marian rolled her eyes and continued, “... these two gentlemen are Mateo and Gael from the Arcanum. They would like to speak with you.” Marian indicated name to body as she introduced them, then settled down with her tea.

  Gwen began to tap her foot. Moving helped her think.

  Both men rose. The taller, early fifties, dangerous, Mateo, said, “Very pleased to meet you. Your teachers and your parents speak very highly of you.” He smiled. “I, Mateo El Sala, am the Headmaster of the Creopian Power Arcanum. This is Gael Tich, one of our teachers.”

  Gwen's ears perked, an El Sala! They were all crazy or scientists. Which was he?

  Gael bowed to the girl. A very deep respectful bow, indeed. He was late thirties, young looking, maybe fourty-two tops. Cocky.

  Mateo said, “Your mother says you are quite gifted. This of course was to be expected, given your fine lineage. We've come to give you a spot at our school. We'll be able to help you learn to focus your energies in a positive and rewarding career as a Wizard.”

  Gwen checked quickly. Both men were indeed shielded. Strongly. Odd. Were they expecting an attack? Or was it a test? Fine. She would oblige.

  She drew enough Power to throw the men against the wall and pin them there. More power than she was used to drawing, it was noticeably ragged and lacking focus. Less a smooth ball, more akin to a porcupine. Even so, it was a Mondro of a lot.

  Marian yelled, “Gwen!”, just as her daughter released the spell.

  The “ball” of power slammed into their shields, sparking black and gold. It hissed for a few seconds before dissipating with no effect.

  Mateo smiled, “Oh my, you do indeed have some Power. That was very interesting. You lack the conviction and discipline needed. We'll help you with both.”

  Gwen decided she had no interest. These guys obviously had more ability than she did. She had no desire moving from a big fish in a small pond to being a small fish in a big one.

  “Sorry, I don't think I am interested. Thanks anyway. Buh-Bye!” Gwen said, turning to leave. She could not move.

  In an instant her shields had fallen and she was now in the grasp of a tight, constricting, jacket of power.

  “I am sorry for the confusion,” Mateo said. “This was not an offer. We said we were giving you a spot at the school. You will be attending. Your parents have asked for a week so you can prepare and say your goodbyes. We'll be back in a week to pick you up.” He smiled that same warm smile.

  “Marian,” Mateo added, “so good to see you again. The tea was wonderful. Gwendolyn, we'll see you in a week.”

  Gael and Mateo engaged in brief polite small talk with Marian and left Gwen's house. A moment later and she heard the gate click shut. She could still not move.

  Marian approached Gwen, “Daughter mine, I love you, but you will be the certain death of me. Do you have any idea how rude that was?”

  Gwen said nothing.

  “Speak up! I am quite angry with you. Your father and I have spent years trying to help you to use your abilities correctly. We planned for years so that your entrance to the Arcanum would be a joyous one. I had a whole party planned. Now you are basically being treated like a criminal. You have no idea how much trouble you are in, do you, young lady? Answer me!”

  Gwen still couldn't move.

  Then, with a three firm squeezes, the constriction released. She gasped and fell to the floor. Mateo was telling her that he could still control her from a substantial distance.

  She did not like that man.

  Marian's anger vanished when her daughter hit the floor. “Gwen, what's wrong?”

  “I couldn't move – or talk,” Gwen said. He had me in some sort of bind.”

  Marian said, “I didn't see anything. Mateo must be remarkable if he could bind you that tight and it not be visible.” Marian helped her daughter up off the floor.

  “I've heard it said that if you gathered all the Wizards in the world together, there would be only fifty or so who were more powerful,” Marian said, reverence in her voice.

  “I don't like him,” Gwen said. “Pass.”

  “Huh. You may not have noticed,” Marian said, “but I don't think that's your choice to make.”