Magik, Murder & Marriage: Chronicles of Yerat

By Carys Bateman

Trainee mage Jervis Willoughby is a ruthless plotter and arrogant taskmaster. He's also the scion of a noble family of Bisra. Caring little for the trappings of the mages school, he decides to arrange his own exit and make an entrance into the high society life in the city of Bisra, eager to take charge. But first there is the matter of family to attend to.

 

A short prequel story to the Chronicles of Yerat

• Language: English
• Publisher: Novel Experientia Ltd
• Release date: Mar 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781919614571

Book preview

Chapter One

Jervis Willoughby scowled down at his formal robes, just delivered by one of the Academy’s servants, ready for his inauguration to Master Mage the following week. The religious side of the path he followed: followers of Kintrelle, the Shining One, wore robes he had always thought of as very gaudy. They consisted of a white base with various styles of gold embroidery to show status and rank, as well as a ridiculous head-dress meant to look like the rising sun but, in Jervis’ opinion, looked like half a cooked egg. Looking down at the robes  made him realise that his own choice wasn’t much better. A black robe covered in designs sewn in various shades of purple with many sequins reminded him of dresses worn by the mid-class sluts from one of the better bawdy houses.

He heaved a sigh before carefully hanging his robe and power items inside the basic wooden wardrobe. Everything in this room was basic, as it should be for an apprentice, even a Sub-Mage. A single cot with one blanket. A stand which held a bowl of water, both for washing and scrying, that he was meant to change daily. A rug just wide enough to stand on, a small wardrobe with one drawer and that was it for furnishings. At least, he told himself, he had a window to gaze out of, unlike many of the others who boarded here.

Throwing himself back on the bed, he pulled his arms behind his head. Scowling at the ceiling, he began to worry that his plans would have to change when he heard running footsteps and someone banged frantically at his door.

Sitting up and smoothing out his features until they showed both surprise with a little worry, entirely appropriate for the situation, Jervis opened the door to see Bertle, a scrawny third-year student whom he cordially disliked, though no-one else knew of this fact. Bertle couldn’t understand her own fear of the one that many thought could be the eventual successor to the Supreme Master Mage, she just knew that she really hated having to take messages to him; there was a look he gave her that she was as yet too young to decipher.

‘What is it, child?’ Jervis spoke calmly, hiding his growing hope and excitement.

‘Master Perecon wishes for your attendance immediately, Sub-Mage Jervis, he says it is urgent.’

‘Urgent, hmmm? Then I best not keep him waiting.’ Pulling on his hat and gloves, he shut his door and set the magikal lock before striding along the narrow corridors just a little more quickly than Bertle could manage. This meant that she arrived at Master Perecon’s door, red-faced and sweating, to see Jervis waiting for her, tapping his foot impatiently. Squeezing past him, she knocked on the heavy door, pushed it open and walked inside on the command to enter.

‘Sub-Mage Jervis, Master,’ Bertle managed to keep her panting to a minimum but the narrowing of Perecon’s eyes told her he had not missed her struggle. Jervis pushed his way past her, causing