Contents

Cover

Archmage – Extract

A Black Library Publication

eBook license

ARCHMAGE

by Evan Dicken

Cerith Anlethir watched the tower burn. Sorcerous flames devoured gleaming marble as the living spell overwhelmed the warding runes and annihilated the Lumineth within. It was an artist’s rendering, one of a thousand such animate visions crafted by Syari magewrights, for there were none alive now who remembered the Ocari Dara, none except the gods.

As it always did, the sight conjured a cold tightness in Cerith’s chest.

‘The perils of magic uncontrolled.’ Cerith turned to address the score of arcane initiates ranged around the lecture hall. ‘Each school was convinced their vision alone stood supreme, to compromise even one aspect was to see the whole shattered. Pride masquerading as righteousness.’

An initiate raised her hand. ‘But is it not right for an artist to take pride in their work?’

‘Pride in work, pride in accomplishment – great Teclis teaches these are worthy endeavours,’ Cerith replied. ‘But when pride takes root in one’s heart, arrogance blooms.’

‘And the living spells?’ she asked. ‘How could the ancients lose control of their own enchantments?’

‘Magic is not craft, requiring only knowledge, talent and practice.’ Cerith noticed movement near the rear of the chamber, and glanced over to see Master Seraval, his pale robes almost luminous in the half-light. Cerith acknowledged the mage’s presence with a slight nod, receiving nothing but cold scrutiny in response.

‘It is will that imbues the arcane,’ Cerith continued. ‘A sorcerer weaves each incantation with threads of their very being. Like art, magic can achieve life beyond its creator’s original intent – only, in this case, we mean “life” in a very literal sense.’

‘Are all spirits rooted in such sorcery?’ another initiate asked. ‘From whence sprang Celennar? Or the Stoneheart King?’

‘A fair question, but one for another day.’ Cerith waved a hand across one of the firefly globes scattered around the chamber. Blinking in the sudden light, his students gathered up their scrolls and arcane minutiae.

‘Next lesson, we will be discussing Yvira’s Lament of Broken Spires,’ Cerith called as his students began to file from the room.

Seraval remained behind, arms folded within his robes, bright blue eyes cold as a Ymetrican wind.

‘You oversimplify.’ The mage’s words came like a spear thrust.

Cerith waved the enchanted mirror to darkness, then shouldered his satchel.

‘I hardly think first-year initiates are prepared for the complexities of recombinant foci.’ Cerith slipped past the younger aelf with a respectful bow. Although Cerith had been at the Lyceum longer, Seraval was a mage, and power overmatched seniority.

‘The same could be said of some masters.’ Seraval followed him into the hall with a hiss of robes on stone. The barb earned a stifled chuckle from the initiates lingering outside the lecture hall. Cerith gave them a warning glance, and they scattered down the hall, albeit slowly.

‘If you are having difficulty, I would be honoured to tutor you.’

There was a gasp of indrawn breath from the lurking initiates.

‘You test my patience, old man.’ Seraval’s patient veneer melted like a morning fog. ‘It is enough you teach sorcery without the ability to work it.’

‘Can only the performer appreciate music?’ A flush crept up Cerith’s neck, but he kept his voice level, his tone respectful. Seraval’s arrogance was a flame fed by pride, and nothing Cerith did or said would quench it.

‘Hear, see, experience – yes. But truly understand?’ Seraval leaned close, eyes narrowed to glittering slits. ‘This is not a place for hobbyists, nor for retired Vanari to indulge their arcane fancies.’

Cerith took a deep breath, quelling the urge to respond in anger. He might lack ability, but his commitment to arcane study was as sincere as any mage’s. Seraval’s pride burned bright enough to blind, and only a fool threw more fuel upon a raging bonfire.

Cerith’s low bow hid the hard set of his jaw. ‘Each must strive for perfection in the life they are given.’

‘You dare quote Teclis to me?’ Seraval moved to block the hall.

Cerith felt the familiar prickle along his arms as arcane energy gathered around them. Like a heat mirage, it bent the air, sharp as woodsmoke in Cerith’s nose. But whatever enchantment Seraval was about to unleash fell away as a bell sounded.

High and clear, it echoed within the ears of all in the hall. Golden runes sparkled in the air. Seemingly woven from the motes of evening light, they formed two words:

Cerith. Come.

There was no need for clarification. All here knew where Cerith was bidden.

Seraval released the gathered magic with a casual flick of his wrist. ‘It seems the aelemental masters also question your fitness.’

Head low, Cerith hurried down the hall, Seraval’s self-satisfied grin like a knife at his back.

The grand hall was a marvel of light and air. Pale walls rose like snow-capped cliffs, unbroken by joint or mortar, their broad expanse fitted with hundreds of cut-crystal windows. In the brilliance of day, the hall was filled with prismatic brightness; at night, the soft glow of Celennar imbued the delicate spiralled pillars with an almost ghostly quality.

Cerith had expected to be met by one, or even several, of the Lyceum’s aelemental masters, but the hall stood empty, silent but for the distant cry of a prism hawk hunting in the last glimmer of evening.

It was not Cerith’s place to question the masters’ absence. His years in the Vanari Auralan Wardens had accustomed him to long stretches of inactivity. He employed an old patrol trick to keep his mind alert. Working through the foundational runes, he sought complementary aspects in his surroundings. Alaithi, the rune of mountains, was evident in the heavy stone of the chamber floor; Senlui, swiftness and accuracy, embodied by the delicate pillars and capstones; Ydriliqi, the river, reflected in the pale moonlight that seemed to flow like water through the high windows.

Cerith noticed a shimmering ripple pass down the moonlight, a lambent tremor that seemed to echo through the chamber as a whole. Like mirror-caught light, the shafts bent towards one another, their brilliance multiplying until the centre of the hall shone bright as day. From the silvery glow stepped a tall figure clad in simple robes of blue and white, his hands empty, his head adorned with little more than a circlet of twining aetherquartz.

Though they had never met, Cerith would have recognised his god anywhere.

‘Master Teclis…’ Cerith dropped to his knees, forehead pressed against the cold marble.

A hand fell upon his shoulder. Gently but firmly, Teclis guided Cerith to his feet.

‘No Vanari need ever kneel before me.’ The Archmage’s voice was soft, but seemed to press upon Cerith like a physical weight. His limbs felt wooden, and it was all he could do to keep his feet as Teclis’ gold-flecked gaze pinioned him sure as an Auralan bowshot.

‘I am sorry the aelemental masters are not here to welcome you, lord,’ Cerith stammered. It was as if there were a silken cord around his chest, drawing tighter with every breath.

‘They are not here because I did not ask for them.’ Teclis glided back, seeming almost to float upon the flow of moonlight that suffused the chamber. ‘I came for you, Cerith Anlethir.’

‘There must be some mistake, lord. I am but a simple scholar.’

‘You would question me?’ Teclis’ rebuke came cold as a crashing wave.

Cerith leaned against a nearby column to steady himself, the tatters of his composure swirling away like scraps of burnt parchment. It was a long moment before he could find the strength to reply.

‘N-never, lord.’

‘Worry not, simple scholar.’ Teclis’ tone took all sting from the barb. The Archmage’s kind regard seemed to fill the whole of Cerith’s being with bubbling warmth. ‘It is not always power that carries the day.’

‘I am yours to command.’ Cerith began another bow, but caught himself as a grin flickered across Teclis’ face. He did not bother asking why the Archmage wanted him; Teclis would explain himself when the time was right.

‘Come. We must away.’ In a flare of brilliant light, Teclis was suddenly clothed in his war glory. Sword and staff gleaming in his hands, the great horns of his peaked helm echoed the gentle curve of the moon overhead. Prismatic fractals of arcane power flickered across the Archmage’s silvered breastplate, a thousand thousand runic permutations playing out faster than Cerith could comprehend. Where Seraval’s conjuring had come like a heat mirage, Teclis’ was a brand white-hot from the forge, impossibly bright, but expertly controlled.

Click here to buy Archmage.

A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION

This eBook edition published in 2021 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd, Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK.

Produced by Games Workshop in Nottingham.
Cover illustration by Catherine O’Connor.

Archmage © Copyright Games Workshop Limited 2021. Archmage, GW, Games Workshop, Black Library, Warhammer, Warhammer Age of Sigmar, Stormcast Eternals, and all associated logos, illustrations, images, names, creatures, races, vehicles, locations, weapons, characters, and the distinctive likenesses thereof, are either ® or TM, and/or © Games Workshop Limited, variably registered around the world.
All Rights Reserved.

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-80026-729-9

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

See Black Library on the internet at
blacklibrary.com

Find out more about Games Workshop’s world of Warhammer and the Warhammer 40,000 universe at
games-workshop.com

eBook license

This license is made between:

Games Workshop Limited t/a Black Library, Willow Road, Lenton, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, United Kingdom (“Black Library”); and

the purchaser of a Black Library e-book product (“You/you/Your/your”)

(jointly, “the parties”)

These are the terms and conditions that apply when you purchase a Black Library e-book (“e-book”). The parties agree that in consideration of the fee paid by you, Black Library grants you a license to use the e-book on the following terms:

* 1. Black Library grants to you a personal, non-exclusive, non-transferable, royalty-free license to use the e-book in the following ways:

o 1.1 to store the e-book on any number of electronic devices and/or storage media (including, by way of example only, personal computers, e-book readers, mobile phones, portable hard drives, USB flash drives, CDs or DVDs) which are personally owned by you;

o 1.2 to access the e-book using an appropriate electronic device and/or through any appropriate storage media.

* 2. For the avoidance of doubt, you are ONLY licensed to use the e-book as described in paragraph 1 above. You may NOT use or store the e-book in any other way. If you do, Black Library shall be entitled to terminate this license.

* 3. Further to the general restriction at paragraph 2, Black Library shall be entitled to terminate this license in the event that you use or store the e-book (or any part of it) in any way not expressly licensed. This includes (but is by no means limited to) the following circumstances:

o 3.1 you provide the e-book to any company, individual or other legal person who does not possess a license to use or store it;

o 3.2 you make the e-book available on bit-torrent sites, or are otherwise complicit in ‘seeding’ or sharing the e-book with any company, individual or other legal person who does not possess a license to use or store it;

o 3.3 you print and distribute hard copies of the e-book to any company, individual or other legal person who does not possess a license to use or store it;

o 3.4 you attempt to reverse engineer, bypass, alter, amend, remove or otherwise make any change to any copy protection technology which may be applied to the e-book.

* 4. By purchasing an e-book, you agree for the purposes of the Consumer Protection (Distance Selling) Regulations 2000 that Black Library may commence the service (of provision of the e-book to you) prior to your ordinary cancellation period coming to an end, and that by purchasing an e-book, your cancellation rights shall end immediately upon receipt of the e-book.

* 5. You acknowledge that all copyright, trademark and other intellectual property rights in the e-book are, shall remain, the sole property of Black Library.

* 6. On termination of this license, howsoever effected, you shall immediately and permanently delete all copies of the e-book from your computers and storage media, and shall destroy all hard copies of the e-book which you have derived from the e-book.

* 7. Black Library shall be entitled to amend these terms and conditions from time to time by written notice to you.

* 8. These terms and conditions shall be governed by English law, and shall be subject only to the jurisdiction of the Courts in England and Wales.

* 9. If any part of this license is illegal, or becomes illegal as a result of any change in the law, then that part shall be deleted, and replaced with wording that is as close to the original meaning as possible without being illegal.

* 10. Any failure by Black Library to exercise its rights under this license for whatever reason shall not be in any way deemed to be a waiver of its rights, and in particular, Black Library reserves the right at all times to terminate this license in the event that you breach clause 2 or clause 3.