Legends of Windemere: 02 - Prodigy of Rainbow Tower

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “It was my idea to jump the wall and approach the tower. Your problem is with me alone,” Luke states, turning to bravely face the angry caster. “Now, are you going to listen or are we going to fight until I beat you?”

  “I choose fight,” she growls. She launches a flurry of fire lances out of her hands, the heated projectiles leaving a trail of haze behind them.

  Luke leaps into the air and kicks off the wall to sail over the spells. He barely has the momentum to get over her head and lands without a sound. Before she can turn around, he makes a dash toward the waterfowl pond. The glistening water makes him grin because it reminds him that this caster has only used fire magic. The spells are dangerous and powerful, but even magic fire can be weakened by water. Luke is starting to form a plan when he slams into an invisible wall.

  “I know more than fire magic if that was what you were thinking,” she says as she approaches him.

  Luke waits for her to get close before he fluidly spins around and kicks her legs out from under her. The caster falls on her back with an angry snarl. He pounces on her to pin her arms above her head and prevent her from casting any spells. It almost works until she releases a blinding flash from her vivid, violet eyes. Luke yelps in surprise before stumbling away and frantically rubbing his eyes. She wastes no time rushing at him and delivering a surprisingly solid punch to his stomach. Luke quickly grabs her arm before falling to his knees.

  “Begging?” she taunts the warrior.

  “I’ve been punched a lot harder than that,” he grunts. He flips the girl over his shoulder and slams her against a nearby tree. An echoing crack is heard as the small tree falls over and crushes a row of silver flowers.

  “You son of a troll!” she shrieks, getting to her feet. Luke blinks the last of the dots from his eyes in time to see an aura of magic erupt from his opponent. He dodges fireballs, lightning blasts, and acid sprays as she chases him around the garden. Trees and flowers explode, filling the air with leaves and petals.

  Luke uses all of his skills to dodge the barrage of spells that turn the garden into a burning war zone. He flips around to make a head-on charge at the caster, sliding under a spray of acid as he unsheathes one of his sabers. Spinning up to his feet, Luke hits her firmly below the ribs with the basket hilt of his weapon. She doubles over gasping for air, but she still has enough strength to coat her hand in colorful flames. Both half-elves stop while Luke keeps his sword against her throat and she keeps her fire-covered hand an inch from his face.

  “Guess it’s a tie,” Luke mutters under his breath.

  “I can fry your face off before you can even twitch your weapon,” the girl threateningly declares. “This battle is mine, jackass.”

  “I’m getting tired of this. I apologize for intruding. Now, can we stop this?” he asks.

  “Screw you.”

  “What is your problem?”

  “I don’t take kindly to intruders.”

  “You could have asked me to surrender instead of attacking.”

  “There isn’t any fun in that.”

  “Listen, psycho,” Luke says, leaning toward her ear to make sure she can clearly hear him. “My name is Luke. I was told by the heir of Duke Solomon to come to Rainbow Tower. My friends and I made it to Gaia earlier than expected. I’m very tired and slightly hungry. This little skirmish has used up the last of my energy.”

  “So, you admit that you’re weak,” the girl interrupts in a voice of joyous victory.

  “No, I admit that I’m tired and hungry. I’ve been on the road, in this heat, for the past few days. You’re probably fine in this weather since you seem to love fire magic,” he begins to explain. He stops and shakes his head in frustration before continuing. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. At least, can I have your name?”

  The girl is about to say what Luke suspects is to be another insult when a bolt of red lightning hits the ground next to them. A deafening blast erupts after the impact, leaving their ears ringing. The sheer force of the blast knocks both of them against the side of the tower where Luke drops his sword and the girl’s fire turns to smoke. They get to their feet just as a rumble of thunder rolls through the cloudless night. It’s not long before the thunder takes the form of a male voice that can be heard throughout all of Gaia.

  “Nyx!” it bellows.

  “In trouble again,” the girl sighs as the wall of the tower opens up and both half-elves are magically yanked inside.

  *****

  The legendary masters of Rainbow Tower have been happily married for the better part of a century. This fact alone is an oddity considering they look like they come from entirely different dimensions. Willow is the picture of beauty and elegance with her soothing eyes of amber and ankle-length hair that is as bright as the sun. This is a stunning contrast to the dark aura that emanates from her pale-eyed, black-haired husband, Cyril. Bards sing of him as the embodiment of festering anger because he always looks like he is about to lose his temper. Even at the dinner table, Willow and Cyril appear to be polar opposites. Their already nervous guests find it strange that the tower’s mistress is dressed for a nobleman’s gala while the tower’s master is dressed more for an archaic caster duel. They all are thankful that Willow has left her blue metal staff in the corner of the room unlike her husband who has his dark wood weapon tightly gripped in his left hand. The gnarled end of his staff is subtly angled at Luke.

  “Again, I’m really sorry about intruding,” Luke says, slowly filling his plate with steaming food. “I climbed onto the wall to take a look around and I fell into your garden. I didn’t think it would be a problem if I knocked on the tower since I was already inside your property. I also didn’t know your apprentices were taught to cast first and ask questions later.”

  He looks over at Aedyn, Fritz, and Nimby, but none of them attempt to join in the conversation while they pay more attention to the lavish dining room. Priceless paintings cover the walls including a painting of Cyril and Willow in combat with a metallic dragon, which is hung over the empty fireplace.

  “Our students are not taught to do such things, but Nyx is a special case. We’ve come to expect our little volcano to do things her way,” Willow admits in a melodic voice. She shoots a small glance at the silent apprentice who is busy fidgeting with her necklace. It is a simple ring with a triangular, purple amethyst on the bottom. She tucks it into her shirt when she notices Willow watching her.

  “Both of you were at fault,” Cyril states from his dimly lit corner of the table. His dark skin and darker robes make the caster look like an extension of the shadows that surround him. “Callindor or not, you do not have the right to intrude on another person’s property. You should have listened to your friend.”

  “See! The great caster says that I was right,” Fritz mutters with a mouth full of bread.

  “First time for everything,” Nimby says with a grin.

  “Where is your fork, halfling?” Aedyn asks.

  “I never got one,” the thief declares. The clawed arms of his chair come to life and start pulling all types of silverware out of his pockets. Even a golden creamer, still full of cream, is pulled out of his hidden pockets.

  “Are you sure we should have him in here?” Nyx asks, aiming a threatening stare at the halfling.

  “The security spells of the tower will keep the thief in check,” Cyril replies, his scowl softening slightly. “I must warn all of you that we are well aware of your reputations by word from Miss Hamilton and Lady Kellia. I am disappointed that the drite who follows you was unable to join us. It has been many years since I had the opportunity to converse with one of the small ones.”

  “This humble servant of Durag thanks you for your hospitality,” Aedyn says while he neatly cuts his venison. “We were unable to find lodging for tonight. Apparently we arrived the same night as the dwarves’ holiday of stone, which has taken up all of the cheap, available living quarters.”

  “It is our pleasure to have you with us, Priest Karw
yn,” Willow gushes with genuine elation. “We have heard so much about your adventure from a few months ago. To face such dangers and succeed with your lack of experience is truly astounding. I would enjoy hearing the tale if any of you have time tonight. Wouldn’t you love to hear it too, dear? It would make for an excellent dessert story.” She flashes an enchanting smile at her husband who manages to force a polite smirk in return.

  Nimby madly waves his hand in the air. “I can do it. I’m the best storyteller in this group. I even know the stuff that Luke’s girlfriend wrote in her diary.”

  “Hey!” Luke exclaims.

  “I’m kidding. I only got through the first couple of entries about when you two started dating. I wouldn’t worry, snuggle worm,” Nimby happily teases his friend. Luke notices a brief look of disgust on Nyx’s face before she downs a goblet of mead in one gulp.

  “Ahem! I believe we should get down to business due to the late hour,” interrupts Cyril, whose face remains emotionless. “Aedyn has told me that you will be getting supplies from his temple. We are willing to supply you with some healing items that we have in stock as well as food that is more refined than those which a temple can provide. Lady Kellia would appreciate this. It is a small thanks for her taking one of our apprentices with her. We have wanted to return a favor to her father ever since he supported my wife’s request to build a garden in Gods’ Voice.”

  Cyril turns his steely gaze to Nyx. “Besides, it is about time this apprentice left the tower and began using her skills for the good of Windemere.”

  “Her?” Fritz and Luke exclaim. They look over at Nyx in disbelief while she chugs down a glass of water.

  Cyril lets out an irritated sigh, catching the full attention of the entire room. “Yes, while you did not meet on good terms, I trust you will cooperate with each other. Nyx is my prized pupil and has the greatest amount of magical knowledge among the apprentices. As for her casting ability, you have seen her speed and ingenuity firsthand. To put it simply, she is the best person for the job.”

  “At least, I have something better to look at on this trip,” Fritz mutters under his breath. His chair legs suddenly burst into splinters and he thuds to the ground. Nyx is casually extending her middle finger under the table where only the gnome can see it.

  “Only if she lets you keep your eyes,” Luke says, cautiously eyeing the girl.

  “You aren’t winning any points with me either, sword boy,” Nyx growls. She reaches out to snatch the flame from a candle and starts rolling it over her knuckles like it was a coin.

  “Impressive. Very few can control fire that they do not create,” Aedyn points out, hoping to dispel the tension in the air. “Do you know any other areas of casting?”

  Nyx is about to answer when Luke interrupts her. “I saw fire, lightning, acid, invisible forces, and sense deprivation.”

  “Excuse me. I can answer for myself. You only saw a sample of what I can do, so keep your mouth shut,” Nyx snaps. The candle flame burns brighter and begins slowly circling her wrist. “As for your question, I prefer not to reveal what I know on the premise that knowledge is power. We may be working as allies, but who knows what Gabriel has planned for us. Besides, I still have not decided if I’m going or not.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you have a choice,” Luke states.

  Nyx’s chilling gaze fixes on the warrior, who does his best to stare her down. “I always have a choice and I don’t need you getting in my face!”

  “How was I getting in your face?” Luke asks in exasperation.

  Nyx flicks the flame at the forest tracker. “You are so arrogant and annoying.”

  A burst of sound and colored smoke gushes from the ceiling above the table. Everyone, except the tower’s master, hacks and coughs until the smoke clears. Nyx glares at Cyril, but the dark caster simply nods his head in the direction of Willow. Her finger is still pointing to the ceiling where the smoke from her spell still lingers around the crystal chandeliers. She daintily dots her mouth with a napkin as she lets her request for attention sink in.

  “We do not allow fighting at the table,” Willow announces with a friendly, but oddly intimidating, smile. “I am very disappointed in your behavior, Nyx. It is true that Lord Callindor did not enter through the front door, but you did not have to initiate and continue your attack. You must remember that every action you take will have consequences. We always warn you that the power you wield is not a toy and it will grow stronger the more you use it.”

  “But . . .” Nyx interrupts.

  “No excuses, young lady. You may be the prized apprentice of my husband, but I still have influence over you. Now, please accept this assignment. It is time you left Gaia and began to use your magic for the good of Windemere. It is what all casters train for and you are no exception. I believe we have shielded you from the world longer than we should have,” Willow declares before turning to Luke. “I sincerely hope that you can work with her, Lord Callindor. Your family has always been one of great courage and you have proven that you continue their tradition. While our little volcano is rude and hot-tempered, I hope you can accept her as both an ally and a friend. She could really use a friend beyond the walls of Gaia.”

  “The hell kind of request is that? I’m not a child!” Nyx furiously screams.

  “Nyx! Do not raise your voice at her!” Cyril bellows, matching the girl’s volume.

  Nyx slams her hands down on the table, which begins to heat up. “This is insane! I refuse to go with these idiots. The halfling is a kleptomaniac and a hyperactive dumbass. The gnome keeps staring at my legs. Don’t even get me started on the forest tracker’s level of stupidity. At least, the priest is polite and smart, but he has the personality of tree bark.”

  “Nyx! Behave yourself!” Cyril warns his apprentice, quickly drawing a rune on the table to prevent it from igniting.

  “No! Screw you, master!” she shrieks. She kicks her chair against the table and storms out of the room. An eerie silence fills the room as the food begins to go cold and everyone tries to think of something to say.

  Eventually, Willow passes Luke a leather envelope emblazoned with the peacock symbol of Duke Solomon. “This holds the route that you will take to Gods’ Voice. The map has notes of the more common dangers that you may encounter. I ask that you study and destroy it tonight.”

  “Sure,” he replies, putting the envelope on the table. Nimby snatches it without a word and starts to look through it.

  “Seems to be a straight shot down the L’dandrin River,” Nimby casually says. “It will take at least two weeks with all of these stops. Why are we making port so often?”

  “It was the captain’s suggestion. Aside from spontaneous rapids, there is always the chance that a tree has fallen into the river or a boulder is hidden just under the surface. Sailors are always on the lookout for such things. The stops will help alleviate the crew’s stress and give you a chance to restock supplies,” Willow answers, taking a lady-like sip of her wine. “While it does mean that there will be more chances for someone to harm Kellia, her father feels that you four and Nyx are enough to keep her safe. It is impressive that you have gained his trust so easily.”

  “I don’t have a problem with the stops,” Luke claims, his voice sounding relieved. “I’m not much of a water person. My stomach doesn’t agree with the waves.”

  “Ginger pills can help settle your stomach. It’s an old halfling sailing secret. I can whip you up some tablets tomorrow once I get the supplies,” Nimby offers, handing the envelope back to Luke and getting another apple. A frown creases his face once he realizes a problem with his promise. “Guess this means I have to leave our tour of Gaia early as well. Though, it will be worth it to avoid hearing you groaning and complaining for the entire voyage.”

  Willow claps her hands together and she smiles happily at Luke. “You have never been to Gaia, Lord Callindor? This is the perfect chance for you and Nyx to spend some time together. I can have her escort you through th
e city tomorrow. I am sure she will be in a better mood after a good night’s rest. Please, forgive her if she still causes trouble.”

  “If it makes her feel any better, I think she will fit in fine,” Aedyn mentions after he finishes his drink. “Her assumptions on our behavior are not entirely false. Our inexperience can make us come off as immature and idiotic. I just hope that this night has not resulted in her getting into trouble with you and your husband.”

  “Do not worry yourselves. I will have our servants escort you to your quarters while I deal with my apprentice,” Cyril says, his eyes beginning to glow a light orange. “She will accompany you tomorrow without question after I am done talking to her about tonight’s actions. I bid you all goodnight.” The dark caster vanishes into the shadows as if they swallowed him whole.

  “Oh, I do hope he isn’t too stern with her,” Willow fusses, wringing her napkin. “Last time they talked, we had to refurnish the upper guest rooms. I just do not have the time to redecorate. I hope Nyx will be okay.”

  “For some reason, I’m more worried about Cyril,” Fritz whispers under his breath.

  *****

  The rooftop of Rainbow Tower has always appeared to be just a few feet short of touching the sky. It is an obvious illusion that all of the apprentices are made to see through by the end of their first year. That is all of the apprentices except for one who simply refused to break the spell’s hold on her. Since her earliest years, Nyx would spend nights sitting on the cold, rainbow-colored stone, waiting for a shooting star to fall into her lap. Yet tonight she can barely pay attention to the clear sky and sparkling stars dangling above her head. Her mind is so intent on her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice Cyril is behind her until he places a hand on her shoulder. Without warning, the half-elf begins to cry.

  “You were very rude. More so than you usually are,” Cyril gently says. His face is no longer a cold mask, but a warm look of concern. “I have come to expect such actions from you, but this is just embarrassing.”