by RG Long
“Hold the shield as long as you can,” Teresa said quietly. “If need be, get us out of here. But let’s try to talk first.”
Blume nodded her understanding as Teresa stepped forward. She made sure that the shield enlarged as she walked to allow the princess to move without being outside of her protection.
“You move to attack us without cause,” Teresa said. “All we have done is brought with us a friend and companion. Urt has never hurt a soul who has not threatened him. He is loyal and a faithful subject of my kingdom I will not tolerate any attack on him.”
Blume did her best keep her face blank and concentrate on her spell. Urt was technically a citizen of the Southern Republic on Ruyn. Captain Felicia's aunt was one of the higher ranking members of the council who ruled over the nation. At the moment however, such details seemed not to matter to Teresa.
Blume swelled with pride at her friendship.
Princess Teresa would put her reputation as well as the country of Thoran on the line to protect their friend.
“His kind has never desecrated the halls of Rerial’s school of magic,” Headmistress Cactus replied. She looked at Theresa with as much animosity as she had done with Urt. Her palm was still outstretched and orange energy leapt around it, waiting to be unleashed.
“Then you will tell the king that the tour he requested for the princess of Thoran and one of its most gifted speaker was delayed because of your intolerance and bigotry.”
The headmistress did not take her palm down, but she did remove the magic that was pulsating around it. Blume breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now, would you please remove your shield?” she asked curtly.
“First I’ll need your word to hurt myself,” Teresa replied.
Blume could not see Teresa's face, but she had known what type of hard expressions the princess was capable of. The headmistress seemed to be trying to match her tone with a look that must’ve seemed as severe.
“They’ve been this difficult since they arrived,” the severe looking woman said under her breath in the direction of the headmistress.
Just as they were staring daggers at one another, a messenger in red came and bowed down before the headmistress handing her an envelope. He acted as if there wasn’t a pulsating green sphere of magic just two steps away from him. Blume supposed that delivering letters to the school of magic was messy business and perhaps he was used to such odd occurrences.
The head mistress looked over at him while keeping her palm still outstretched. A small bit of magic pulsed around her body.
“Yes?” she said curtly.
“A message from his majesty,” the man said.
The Headmistress looked quickly from the group in front of her to the messenger who was handing her a note from the King.
“With a sigh,” she completely extinguished her magic and took the letter from the man.
“Thank You Ma'am,” he said quickly before walking off.
“Wait!” the headmistress said. “Does his majesty expect a response?”
“No ma'am,” the messenger said over his shoulder. “I was told it was a directive.”
The headmistress looked over the message, scanning with her eyes. Then she seemed to take a moment to look at it carefully.
Blume could not read her face. It stayed severe throughout the entire time she looked down at the letter.
“I will have to attend to this,” she said curtly. “Take them on a tour, but I suggest you stay on the lower levels and show them the first section of the library. No more than that”
The headmistress turned to look at the group as she crossed her arms in front of her.
“I do hope our two countries can get along. It seems we have dark days ahead of us.”
Without any further explanation or words, the headmistress turned on her heel and followed after the messenger.
It seemed for a moment that a quiet hush had fallen over the hall that was filled with people.
“There are classes to attend!” someone shouted from behind them. This seemed to get everyone moving again and students began to rush around them while the two who had walked in with them stood awkwardly next to Theresa, Blume and Urt.
“Well then,” the young man said.
“How about we get started on that tour?”
14: The First Levels
Even though the school of magic was wonderful to behold, Blume could feel the entire time that people were casting wary glances towards Urt.
As much as the man who was giving them the tour tried to sound light and airy, she felt like there was a looming shadow over the whole experience. She felt that the strict looking woman who was walking with them was a better indication of how things were going. That lady kept her face sour and her eyes darting in every direction. It was hard to listen to the man tell them about the school as they walked, but Blume did her best.
There were varying classes for each kind of magic that a speaker might need to use within the realm of Rerial. There was definitely a much more practical aspect to the classes here than there were in Thoran. In her first school, Blume learned how to light fires and move water and produce magical energy from the air.
This school seemed to be mostly about building towers and helping to engineer the construction and flight of airships. It was certainly fascinating to watch some of the classes at work, but they were never allowed to stay long enough to experience or learn about what was being taught.
Blume couldn't help but feel like there was some intentionality behind this.
“And this is the class that observes how long it takes for rimstone to maintain flight at higher levels versus lower levels. We've had some success trying to figure these out but are still trying to experiment to determine which rimstone works the best at different height and for various sizes of airships,” the gentleman said.
Before Teresa could ask the question that Blume could tell was on her lips, the severe looking woman was pushing them away to their next location.
The classrooms varied in sizes and interiors. This Blume could tell even from their quick glances into them. Some classrooms had padding all along the walls that seemed to allow for students to be thrown up against them without bodily harm. Other classrooms, however, seemed that they would cause bodily harm to any who walked into them.
Blume noted that the next class they walked into was filled with all types of mechanical gears and pieces of metal that were flying all throughout the room as an instructor shouted over the noise.
“You must be able to construct a working helioscope here by the time this classroom is over, I make no exceptions!”
“A what? What’s a helioscope used for?” Blume asked as she saw three students fit some gears and pieces of metal together, before a fourth jumped in to shape the metal into an odd-looking box. The severe looking woman shoved her from behind and guided her down the hall.
“We should be getting to the library,” she said flatly.
Blume was growing tired of this exercise.
“I know the headmistress told you to keep us down to these lower levels, but why are you rushing us? We're supposed to be inspecting your school of magic. Thoran has its own wonderful school that I'm sure you could come and visit whenever you want it and learn as much as you please, but why are you forcing us around like we're criminals?”
Blume had stomped her foot at this very last word. She had been considered a criminal before and did not enjoy the feeling. The more time she spent in the school, the more she felt like she was suspected of some great crime against the nation. Almost like she was being ushered to her jail cell with a view of all the other occupants before she arrived to our final destination.
The severe woman looked at Blume for a moment before her eyes flicked to Urt.
Blume groaned.
“What is with you people and the Skrilx?” asked as she felt sparks fly from her fingertips. The man balled his fists and the woman reached into her pocket.
Blume felt a hand on her shoulder.
Teresa was standing next to her.
“Be calm,” she said, squeezing Blume and looking down into her eyes.
In a louder tone, she addressed the man and woman.
“You're directing us to your library,” she said. Blume felt like it was more of a statement than a question. “Once we arrive, why don't you point us to some material that would allow us to inform ourselves about what the conflict was between you and the race of Skrilx who you warred with so recently?”
The severe looking woman looked over at her companion. Blume wasn't sure, but she felt like there was almost a grin on her face. It was hard to tell under all the sour expressions she had given them this whole time.
“To the library then,” she said.
The library was in the very back of the tower of the school of magic. Classrooms and the hall followed the giant circle of the tower around with doors interspacing the walls. There were several larger rooms in the center of the tower, like the big entrance hall, what Blume thought was a cafeteria, and she guessed that there must be some type of student dorms somewhere. Perhaps those were the higher levels?
By the time they had filtered around to the very rear of the tower, Blume was sure she had seen no fewer than twenty students glancing out of their classrooms after they passed in the hallway. Each time, they stared at Urt.
She was so curious to discover what the relationship between Rerial and the Skrilx had been that she almost did not realize they had walked into the library itself. As soon as she looked up from her ponderings, she felt her breath taken from her.
Irradan had a respectable library. The nation of Darrion had been the home of what she had thought was the largest collection of books in the world.
She had been wrong. That magical library of Irradan was nothing compared to what she was seeing in front of her. Where the rest of the tower of magical studies had a ceiling at some point, as far as Blume could see, the library had no ending to its height. It went up as far as her eyes could strain. Floating orbs of light floated out in front of her and beyond her vision, like stars in the night. The library of Rerial was a place where someone could spend the rest of their lives reading and only scratch the surface of what was contained inside.
“This is our library,” the young energetic man said rather unnecessarily. “The headmistress said you could read and observe any book on the first level with you’ll see denoted by the glowing ring of yellow. Levels two and three are forbidden to all except teachers and those who possess the permission of his majesty.”
Blume had expected to be disappointed with the number of books they would be able to see. However, the yellow line that the young man was pointing out was so far out of her vision that Blume could almost not see where level one stopped and level two begin.
“How do you find the books you’re looking for?” Teresa asked, obviously in the same state of wonder Blume felt herself in.
“Desk,” Urt answered, pointing to the center of the floor.
Both of their guides jumped at his words. Blume realized he had not said a single syllable since they had confronted the headmistress. He really was a stoic soul. He was so very different than Galp.
Blume felt a pang of worry for their missing companion and wondered how he was getting along at the Court.
Teresa marched over to the desk where three ancient looking librarians sat pouring over large scrolls laid out in front of them.
“We would like books on the war between Rerial and the Skrilx,” she said authoritatively.
None of the librarians looked up at her. Each of them continued to move their hands and eyes ever so slowly over the parchments they were inspecting.
Blume saw Teresa tap her foot and clear her throat.
“Excuse me!” she said again, much louder.
One of them shifted in her seat, but still none of them acknowledged the princess.
Teresa turned back, her face red and looked at their two guides.
“Perhaps we can help this way?” the young man said.
He took them over to a place right beside the desk that had several books marked with categories listed on their spines. He took one out and ran his finger along a section of the book. Blume saw that each book had numerous topics listed in them as well as numbers beside them. She supposed this denoted the location one could find them.
“Here it is,” he said pointing down at the place in the book marked ‘Historical: wars and battles.’
“Level One, three, fourteenth bookshelf down and continuing on until Level One, four, eighteenth bookshelf.”
He looked up at them, seemingly pleased with himself.
“That ought to give you a fair amount of reading,” he said with a smile.
15: The Winds of Redact
The wind whipped Wisym’s hair as the dragon flew over the wide expanse of ocean below them. Flying on an airship was something she could stomach. To her, it just felt like navigating stormy seas. But at least there was something solid for her feet to stand on. Riding this beast was a whole new experience and Wisym was sure she hated it.
With every flap of the small dragon's wings, they rose several spans into the air and then fell several more until it used it swings again to thrust them up into the air. Because of rising and falling along with the shifting of the creature’s body to accommodate for the large group it carried on its back mate we’ll see and feel as if she was going to fall off at any moment.
And as she was sitting at the very back, this was a real possibility.
The dragon had told them what order to get on to his back so that he might fly the best. Holve, Silverwolf, and Felicia were in the front. Gorplin sat on the highest point of the dragons back and Wisym held onto the dwarf as they flew.
She at least took comfort in knowing that Gorplin hated the experience as much as she did.
“If I ever complain about Ealrin's flying skills again I want you to shoot an arrow through my skull!” he yelled over the rush of wind.
Wisym wasn’t sure which of them he was directing this vow to, but she knew she would likely throw her lot in with him if it ever came to it.
The land had rushed below them as the dragon sped along. There was no way their airship had ever traveled this fast. The dragon was quick and nimble. It roared as it flew over trees and plains and gleefully shot over the waters of the ocean as soon as they had come to it. Wisym wondered how long the beast could fly without taking a break. Hopefully it had been able to rightly judge how long he could travel with six on its back.
The land of Redact was falling away from them as she saw on the distant horizon, an island that stood wrapped in the loving embrace of both the ocean and the greater continent.
This must be the home of the dragon and the place where the Skrilx he was bound to lived. Another island of the feline creatures. Wisym remembered their last journey into such a place and hoped this time there would be a different result from their venturing there.
And then the roar of metallic screeches filled the air.
The terrible birds of prey were back.
Firag let out a roar of rage as the metal beasts came flapping at them. A stream of fire left its mouth and melted two of the birds right away. But there were more to replace them.
“Wisym can you work your bow?” Holve called from the front of the dragon.
Wisym swore under her breath before taking her legs and wrapping them around Gorplin.
“If you let go, we will both tumble to the water!” she shouted at the dwarf.
A string of dwarven curses came out of Gorplin’s mouth in reply, but Wisym felt him squeeze himself closer to Felicia in response.
It would have to work for now.
Wisym strung her bow with three arrows and took aim at the birds as they approached. She knew there was only one place she could strike them to bring them down.
A group of them flew close to the back of the dragon, claws and beaks ready to tear into its flesh. She shot at the first and missed with two arrows. She
let her third arrow loose and it struck the metallic bird right in the Rimstone on its head. It burst into a shower of sparks and metal and fell helplessly to the waters below.
The first bird she had missed had become so close to the dragon that it began to screech horribly even as it latched onto Firag’s scales with its metallic claws. There was a burst of white light and the dragon rolled away as what was left of the metal bird fell far away.
“You tell that dragon to stay upright or will all go flying!” Felicia fumed.
“That dragon can hear you perfectly well!” Firag said. “Keep those metal vultures away from me and I’ll get us to where we’re going, human!”
“Fly straighter, dragon!” Felicia shot back as another bird came close to them. She reached out with her sword to swipe at it, but the blade knocked helplessly off its metal carcass. The thing let out a clanking roar. Wisym wanted to cover her ears against the deafening scream.
She didn’t have to. A blast of white magic shot the bird from the air and they flew further away from the metallic menaces, even as they continued to circle them. Wisym notched three more arrows, ready for another assault. The metal birds were certainly coming closer with each flap of the dragon’s wings, but they didn’t move in to attack. Perhaps that was because of the dragon’s fire and the magic that was being produced by Holve’s spear.
Wisym wondered at the old man at the front of them. He wasn’t turning around to face them. Doing so would probably throw him off the dragon. Instead, he held his spear out and leaned down over the dragon’s head, looking left and right as they flew towards the island in the middle of the vast sea.
If they ever did make it to the center, it would be because of the magic coming from the man Wisym didn’t know was capable of producing it.
“Above us!” Silverwolf shouted.
Wisym looked above them to see if there more metallic birds to shoot at, but rather an airship that was larger than any she had seen up to this point came into her view from the clouds above them.
Another dozen or so metallic birds flew off of it and came down to swoop on the group as the dragon tried it’s best to swirl away from this new threat.