“I don’t see anything, do you?” Willem whispered to Sharrah.
“Shh,” she whispered back, elbowing him in the side.
Master Doronal smiled and turned to Willem. “You cannot see magic because you have not been exposed to it enough. Or, because you have no magical ability, which is highly unlikely. Almost everyone has some magical ability. In any case, the magic Aeron is doing is so simple, it almost isn’t magic at all.” He looked back at Aeron and said, “The next focus, if you would?”
Aeron removed the focus and created the next. He stared at it floating between them—a twisted band of strange color slowly spinning in the air. “There is a reason why I remembered these. The colors is see for them are unusual. This one, for instance. Reddish green? I’ve never seen that before. The color is weird.”
“Now this,” Master Doronal began, “is interesting.”
“Is it a known focus?” Aeron asked.
“It is,” the magic master replied. “And it is a master-level focus.”
“What is it?” Sharrah asked, looking from Aeron to Master Doronal and back.
“It is ether.”
“It’s what?” asked Aeron.
Master Doronal glanced at Anaya and turned back to Aeron. “Your link, it extends very far, does it not?”
Aeron thought back. “Well, I could easily sense her when she was in her cavern and I was in the Caer. The cavern is pretty far away.”
Master Doronal nodded. “Yes, that follows. For ether is, well, you can think of it as the framework of the universe. It is a rather difficult concept to grasp, as you cannot see or touch ether itself.” He thought for a moment. “A story is a collection of words that convey meaning. However, the words in and of themselves could not exist without some means of holding them. They could exist in your mind, and would thus exist as your thoughts. Or, they could be spoken, and would thus exist as vibrations in the air. They could also be written, and would exist, perhaps, on the pages of a book. Ether is what existence is writ upon. It is the foundation of the universe.”
Aeron raised his brows.
“I would not be surprised if your link was such that you could be on the other side of the world from her and still be able to sense her. I suspect that the Bond created the link between you two so that distance is no matter to it—it pierces the ether directly.”
“How is that possible?” Willem asked.
“When two objects have been entangled through the ether,” Master Doronal began, “they can share things instantly. We have spells that do that as well, to a certain extent. In fact, our emergency communication devices, the ether writers, do that. What is written on one, appears on its ether-tangled twin instantly, even if they are miles and miles apart.” He glanced again at the spinning focus. “Fascinating. But let’s continue. The next focus, if you would?”
Aeron shook his head to clear it of the thoughts that had sprung to mind concerning ether, and said, “Okay.” He removed the focus. “This is the last one I remember. There may have been others, but it was such an emotional and surprising experience . . . I’m amazed I can recall even these three.”
Once he was done, another band of strange color lazily rotated in the air between them. Aeron watched it a moment and then murmured, “Bluish yellow, but not green.”
Master Doronal was silently staring at the focus. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I suppose I should have suspected this focus would be involved.”
It too was a known focus, apparently. Aeron sighed to himself. All three that he could remember were already known. He had hoped that he had discovered a new type. “What focus is it?” he asked.
“Not only is your link to Anaya able to span vast distances,” Master Doronal said, “apparently, it is also at a very, very deep level.” He turned his gaze on Aeron. “This is also a powerful focus, though only journeyman level.”
Aeron stared at him. “What is it?”
“Spirit.” Master Doronal looked back at the focus floating in the air.
Sharrah gave a little gasp.
“Spirit?” Aeron asked, glancing briefly at Sharrah. He then returned to watching the band of color as it slowly rotated. “As in, ghost?”
“No,” Master Doronal replied. “Well, perhaps indirectly, I suppose, in certain religions. You see, your spirit is your soul, your essence. It is you at your most basic.” He looked over at Anaya, sleeping on the sunny grass. “You two really are one, in a sense. The link is more complicated, more powerful than we had anticipated.”
Aeron removed the focus and opened the training bracelet. He handed it to Master Doronal and scooted closer to Anaya, leaning against her. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having his very soul melded with Anaya’s. He felt like . . . leaves blown by the wind. His emotions were all over the place. He felt happy, scared, sad, gleeful and concerned.
“This is good, Aeron,” Master Doronal said, placing the two training bracelets back into the bag.
“How so?” Willem asked. He had also moved nearer Anaya.
“Though I believed before, this gives me absolute proof of all Aeron has been telling us. I can report such to Lord Baronel.”
Master Doronal saw the turmoil the young sorcerer apprentice was in. “Aeron, nothing has changed with you or with Anaya. We just know more about your experience.”
Aeron nodded, his arm over Anaya’s back. “I know. I just hadn’t really thought about it all until now.” With a small smile, he stroked Anaya’s neck. “She’s even more precious to me than before. I didn’t think it was possible.”
“There are spells people employ that use spirit?” Sharrah asked. She was still thinking about that frightening concept.
“Yes,” Master Doronal nodded. “Fairly powerful ones.”
“Why would someone need to enchant a soul?” She looked at Master Doronal, concern in her eyes.
“Oh,” Master Doronal replied, finally realizing the source of her apprehension. “Not all of the spells that use spirit focus have to do with spirit. Some do, yes, as I suspect the Bond probably does, but most use spirit focus as building blocks of the spell. Though, some very powerful spells use spirit like, and in addition to, animus as fuel.”
“I see.” Sharrah seemed a little mollified. “And those spells that do affect spirit?”
“They are mostly for sensing spirit. The medical profession, for example, uses them to aid in diagnosis.”
“Oh. Well that makes sense.” Sharrah nodded.
“And does spirit regenerate, like animus does?” Aeron asked.
“It does. But at a much slower rate. On the order of hours instead of minutes. Although, as you get older, you have more spirit to tap into. Why this is, we are not sure, though there are theories. Perhaps the more you have lived, the more you there is.” Master Doronal shrugged. “There is much debate on that point.”
“So, what are the typical kinds of spells that use spirit as fuel?” Willem asked.
“Well, for instance, enchanting stone, as was done in the caverns below for the walkways and rooms and such. That spell uses spirit. And that is why all of the passages weren’t enchanted. Even with all the available qualified sorcerers we had working on them, it still took several months to complete what little was done, because after an hour working on the enchantments, a sorcerer needed five hours rest.”
Aeron nodded. “I had been wondering about that.”
Master Doronal stood and dusted himself off. “Alright then. The Dining Hall knows to send your lunch over here, that has already been arranged. I’ll be back this evening for dinner to check on progress on the dragon stable.” He paused, seemingly rolling those words on his tongue. “I do like that name more and more.” He smiled, nodded to them and headed off to the Magic Craft Hall.
The three friends sat by Anaya in silence for a while after Master Doronal left. Every now and then an autumn breeze passed over them, stirring their hair. Sounds of men working could be heard from the dragon stable.
Aer
on, still in a twirl about what he had learned, let his thoughts wander. Absently, he noticed that there were very few watchers standing off where the crowds had been yesterday. He could see only three people in total. Ah, he thought, but yesterday had been the last day of the weekend. Today, everyone had morning chores and would not have time to stand around watching a dragon and the new activity at her stable. He looked back at Anaya.
Sharrah, a look of soft concern on her face, said, “I’m going to see what progress they’ve made. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Okay,” Willem said.
She stood and walked over to the smiths where they were working on the scale.
Willem turned back to Aeron and, brows furrowed, asked, “Are you alright?”
Aeron stroked Anaya’s neck and turned his head to Willem. “Yeah, I think so.” Willem was always there for him; his best friend at his side. He thought about how much that meant to him. “You look troubled, though.”
“What? No, I was just worried about you. You seemed a little upset for a bit there.”
“In truth, I was. It all became clear to me, all at once.” Aeron leaned back against Anaya’s shoulder. “Being linked to a dragon is a big responsibility. Absolutely wonderful and exciting, yes. But somewhat scary too.” He pulled up a blade of grass, studying it. “What if something happens to her? What will happen to me? And her, too. What if something happens to me? How will that affect her?”
“Happens?” Willem shook his head, not following. “What do you mean?”
“Death.” Aeron glanced at Willem and then back at the blade of grass he was twirling in his fingers. “If she dies, how will it affect me? And the other way around, too. What if I . . . die.” He sighed. “We are one. Our souls are linked.”
“I see what you mean.”
“It’s a lot to think about, and I’m not even fifteen yet!” Aeron managed a half-smile he wasn’t sure he felt, trying to lighten the mood.
Willem looked at Aeron, a faint smile on his face. “You will be, though, in what, two months?”
“Yes. And I know what I want for my birthing day gift, too.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not going to hex it by saying it out loud, but I hope it will come to pass.” He saw Sharrah walking back to them.
“They have made a great deal of progress,” she said, as she reached them. Seeing the lighter mood they were in, she smiled. “The walkway is nearly done, and the doors to your room and your study are nearly complete as well.”
“It looks like the smiths are well on the way to finishing the scale too.” Willem was watching the workers and smiths who were busily toiling away on their large device.
“Willem, you mentioned that you had been working on riding gear,” Aeron said. “Do you have the sketches with you?”
“Actually,” Willem said, opening his satchel, “I do.” He pulled out a sketchbook and flipped to the pages where he had his rough sketches started.
“Oh!” Sharrah exclaimed, “Those are nice!”
“I see where you have rings on either side of the jacket for the riding straps to attach to,” Aeron said. “With reinforced leather at those spots. And they do look nice. Very sporty.”
“The gloves are designed with slightly oversize cuffs so that they fit over the jacket sleeves,” Willem said, pointing out the design feature. He flipped the page, revealing more sketches.
“I thought you weren’t going to do pants yet?” Aeron asked, looking at not just one, but two designs for pants.
“I know, but then I realized that during the winter you will definitely want special pants for riding. It will be pretty cold, and with the wind? I figured I would design a pair of leather riding pants with a thin insulation lining.”
“Makes sense,” Sharrah nodded.
“Then, while designing those pants, I realized that riding pants have different needs than normal pants. For instance, a higher waist than normal.”
“A what?” Aeron asked.
“Higher waist.” Both Aeron and Sharrah looked confused, so Willem explained. “When you sit, the back of your pants drops a bit. You don’t want that to expose your lower back to cold air, so, for the riding pants, one design for winter with the lining and one design for the rest of the year with no insulation lining, I designed both with a waist two inches higher than normal.”
“Why not just make a long jacket?” Sharrah inquired.
“I think a long jacket would be very clumsy when riding,” Willem replied. “And the open bottom, which would face forward when you sit, would be like a funnel for the air. No, a short jacket reaching two inches lower than Aeron’s waist should be fine. The jacket and the higher waist on the pants will overlap each other nicely. The jacket will also fit snugly to keep the wind out. And there are two jacket designs as well, winter and otherwise. And the gloves and cap too, two designs, though really the difference in all of them is the insulation lining.”
“Oh, and the goggles!” Aeron was pointing at the sketch on the page. “They look fantastic!” Aeron grinned at Willem, “I can’t wait to wear all this gear. I’ll look sooo golden!”
Willem and Sharrah laughed.
“Well, the gear can be made quickly,” Sharrah said, “but Anaya will need endurance training and exercise to carry you.”
Aeron’s face fell. “That’s true.”
“Sharrah?”
The three friends turned to the speaker. Trader Dellia had just rounded the corner of the dragon stable.
“Trader Dellia,” Sharrah said, quickly standing up.
Trader Methon walked around the corner as well, and stood by his wife. Both were staring at Anaya.
“It is true,” Trader Dellia said. After a moment, she looked at Aeron. “She is yours?”
Aeron stood. “Well, not exactly. That is, I don’t own her. We are linked.”
“Dragonlinked.” Trader Dellia stared at him. After a moment, she and her husband walked to them, stopping next to Anaya. “We heard tell of a dragon and a boy,” she said. “We didn’t think it was possible. A dragon, here? So we came to see for ourselves.” She smiled as she gazed at the young sleeping dragon. “She’s quite beautiful.” She turned her smile on Aeron, and suddenly, a look of surprised enlightenment, of some puzzle finally solved, crossed her face. “It is you!” she gasped. Shocked realization was replaced with a softly caring look. “And so very young.”
Willem, now standing, asked, “What do you mean?”
She looked at her husband. “The hunter. It is them.”
Trader Methon glanced briefly at Anaya and Aeron before returning his gaze to her. “Are you sure?”
“What an interesting surprise, yes?” She smiled up at her husband.
“What are you talking about?” Willem asked again, a slight edge in his confused voice.
“My wife,” Trader Methon began, looking from his wife to Aeron and then to Willem, “sometimes has visions. They have always been accurate. She had a vision a few weeks ago.”
“It will be at night,” Trader Dellia said and turned to Aeron. “There are fields, and a large building.”
Willem, still a little angry and confused, looked from Trader Methon to Trader Dellia and then to Aeron. Sharrah put her hand on his arm to calm him, or at the very least, to keep him from interrupting.
Aeron was staring at Trader Dellia.
“And it will be very cold,” she continued. Her eyes lost focus as she remembered details of the vision. “The starlight, from thousands of pinpricks in the winter night sky, will light up the snow on the ground with a dim glow.” She paused and her face contorted. “The first thing will be the smell. It is horrible, corrupt and putrid.”
Aeron took a sharp breath and murmured, “The teeth.”
Trader Dellia’s eyes suddenly focused on Aeron’s face. “Yes. Large sharp blades of teeth in a horrible maw of a mouth.”
Willem and Sharrah were now looking at Aeron.
“I had a dream about a creature—” Aeron
suddenly stopped, unsure he wanted to talk about the dream. It couldn’t be real. It was just a nightmare. At least, he fervently hoped so.
“The danger is,” and Trader Dellia glanced at her husband a moment before continuing, “that along with nahual we know, there are new nahual now, nahual-ton. And I could not see the one in my vision. It was shielded from my eyes, invisible.”
“Dellia believes that nahual hunt us, hunt people, because they need something we have.” Trader Methon looked lovingly at his wife. “What it is, we do not know, but she is sure of their need of it.”
Aeron was trying to digest what he was being told, but it was difficult. There was too much they were telling him, and too quickly. He couldn’t process it all.
“And there was a presence, a hunter. It sought the nahual. I could not tell what it was. It seemed like a person, but not. All I got were impressions, feelings about the hunter. I sensed innocence and deep knowledge, fear and determination, fragility and incredible strength, along with strong magic and steady nerves.” She paused a moment, staring at Aeron. “And a heart as big as the world,” she said, before turning to Anaya. “With wings to carry it forth.”
Aeron, his mouth open, stared at Anaya.
Sharrah, looking at Aeron, said, “You believe that Aeron and Anaya are the hunter in your vision?”
“Yes.” Trader Dellia nodded.
Aeron looked at the trader, eyes wide.
“The vision I had was for you,” she said, looking at Aeron. “I see that now.” She laughed and turned to her husband. “We came to see whether the rumors of a dragon were true, and we found the truth in that, but we also solved the puzzle of the hunter in my vision. A very good day!”
Aeron was still trying to understand what the traders were implying. “You can’t possibly mean that we,” and Aeron indicated Anaya and himself, “are supposed to go hunting nahual!” With all the recent changes in his life, this new information was just too much. He kept seeing the large razor-sharp teeth in the enormous mouth and wanted nothing to do with them, wanted them nowhere near his precious Anaya.
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