I heard a few girls in the front gasp. Erien had told me about Gorgoths, men who had been turned into giant bats, abnormally strong, with dripping fangs and razor-sharp claws. I shuddered at the thought of meeting one of those creatures, and hoped I’d never have to.
“I helped rebuild Kelliandria along with the dwarves when the great earth shook and destroyed countless lives,” she continued. “That was a very long time ago, almost two hundred summers.”
Some girls gasped again. I grinned. Penelope really was a very good teacher. And she knew how to keep the room quiet and her students interested.
“On a more recent note, I was there in the midst of the last mage war that took place on the plains of Eleth. It was a dark time for all of us. A rebellion of nearly a hundred fully trained mages, who fought against their king and had turned away from the gentle way of the mages, sought to take the kingdom for themselves.”
Everyone was silent as Professor Plumpleberry looked around the room. For a fleeting second, her gaze settled on me. Her blue eyes twinkled and she continued her story.
“I was busy healing a warrior-mage and was present when Prince Azaren, the king’s champion, Warden of the West, and the most powerful mage of our age, created a lightning strike so formidable that it burst through the approaching army, killing the traitor Joreth. With their leader gone, the traitors who called themselves the Black Mages surrendered.”
I couldn’t help myself; I felt a hot tear trickle slowly down my cheek. My father was a hero, a legend. Everything that Uncle Gabriel had said about him was true. Not that I ever really doubted it, but hearing it here, in school, as part of a history lesson, was amazing. Was he really the Warden of the West? I made a mental note to ask Penelope about that after class.
I got back to concentrating on what Professor Plumpleberry was saying. I was now quite sure which class was going to be my favorite. Everything I needed to know about my parents was here, in this classroom and in this library.
When the class finished, Penelope was busy talking to a student, and Vivienne dragged me along with her, so I decided I could talk to Penelope later.
After ancient studies, we all moved to another classroom in the same building. It was called “Social Structure and Government in the Seven Kingdoms,” but it was essentially politics. Professor Ruthbridge was old and extremely boring. He had a timid voice and shaggy, unkempt silver hair, which made him look a bit like Albert Einstein, I thought, as Vivienne and I found seats at the back of the class. Vivienne wanted to sit at the front as usual, but all the seats were taken. I was relieved.
I sat quietly while the professor rambled on and on about places I didn’t know. He spewed a litany of names, and I was completely lost.
“There used to be slaves in Eldoren too?” a boy called Reginald asked, interrupting the professor.
The old professor nodded. “The mages used them to tend their estates. The slave trading may be under control now, but our kingdom is still fueled by unrest. There is a huge underground network of cutthroats, thieves, and outlaws that roam these lands and prey on the helpless. The city guards are swamped with work, and the dungeons are overflowing.”
“But what about the Blue Cloaks?” one girl asked. “Can’t they do anything?”
Professor Ruthbridge shook his shaggy head. “The Blue Cloaks are powerful warrior-mages, but there aren’t enough of them to go around. We must rely on nonmagical guards too.”
My thoughts drifted to Rafe. He was an outlaw, but was he also a part of this underground network that the professor spoke about? I knew so little about him. He could very well be dangerous, but still, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Although he must have forgotten all about me after he left me at Greystone.
While I was busy dreaming about Rafe, political studies ended. I wondered what I had missed. I would have to take notes from Vivienne later. She was taking alchemy, and I had healing next, so we had to split up.
“See you later,” said Vivienne, rushing off toward the alchemy house.
I had a few minutes before my healing class started, so I went over to the healing house early and found Penelope already there. She was mixing some liquids in a small bottle and peppering it with some sort of silver powder. She gave me a huge smile when I came in. I rushed over and gave her a big hug, careful not to spill the contents of the bottle.
“It’s so lovely to see you again, Penelope,” I said, meaning every word. “How’s Kalen? Did he come with you?”
Penelope shook her head, her golden curls bouncing. “No, my dear, but I will send for him soon, I promise. He wanted to come, you know how Kalen is, but it’s not the right time.”
I was disappointed that Kalen had not come to see me; it would have been nice to have him around while I was getting used to this new school. Vivienne was sweet, but I couldn’t talk to her about Morgana or the fae. At least I had Penelope.
“What are you doing?” I asked, fascinated. “What’s that?” I pointed to the greenish liquid in the bottle she held in her hands.
She smiled. “Getting ready for my next class.”
“That’s right. You're teaching healing, too.”
“Yes. Professor Dekela requested that I fill in for the healing teacher, who has gone on a year-long pilgrimage to the temple of Briesies in the foothills of the Silverspike Mountains.”
“But I thought you were the ancient studies teacher.”
“I can teach both,” said Penelope, her eyes twinkling as she bustled about the room, while I sat on a high stool. “Anyway, there are many other history teachers; I only teach ancient studies once a week and a few healing classes. Most of my time goes into assisting the academy healers when they have a particularly bad case.”
“Tell me about healing, please, Penelope,” I pleaded. “Just a little before the class starts. I’m so behind all the other students. They have all grown up around magic, but I can’t even understand how fae healing and mage healing are different.”
“They are not as different as you would think,” said Penelope. “Fae healing is similar to mage healing in many ways, but the distinction occurs in the fae’s capacity for healing.”
“Which means?”
“The main difference is that mage powers diminish rapidly when you heal someone, and it takes the mage a long time to recover, depending on the mage’s innate power.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Although most mages know how to heal,” Penelope continued, “it is hard to do and exhausting to the mage performing the healing. But to the fae healing is instinctive, and we are better at it than mages. It is part of the nurturing trait of the fae. That is why in Eldoren most of the healers are fae and are very highly respected within the community.”
“But then why do Morgana’s guards hunt the fae?”
“It is only in Illiador, where Morgana rules, that the fae are being driven out,” explained Penelope. “The common folk all over the length and breadth of Illiador have been suffering for years because all the fae healers have left, been killed, or been chased out of Illiador.”
“Why does Morgana hate the fae so much?”
“Who knows what goes on in the mind of such a twisted person?” Penelope ground herbs together and then performed some sort of magic on them until the green powder turned purple. “People fear what is different, and Morgana fears the fae.”
“But how are fae powers so different from mage powers? I thought you said they were similar.”
“Fae magic comes from nature, blessed by the goddess Dana,” said Penelope. “There are five types of fae magic—earth, air, fire, water, and spirit. Some fae can command two or even three of those elements, but generally most fae can command magic from only one.”
“And what is your magic?” I asked, fascinated.
“I am earth and air,” said Penelope. “My magic is more suited to healing and glamour than fighting, although I can defend myself should the need arise, and I am very lucky to be gifted with two power
s. But it is the fire-fae who are the most powerful warriors, and fire-fae that command more than one element are stronger still. Fae magic does not diminish like mage magic when used a lot; it can be replenished indefinitely.”
“And those that have the power of spirit, what can they do?”
“The fae gifted with the magic of spirit are the most formidable and the most dangerous. They are the only ones who can create portals and produce powerful glamour that can last for centuries, but they are rare.”
My eyebrows scrunched as I processed all this information. “So what element could my mother control?”
“Elayna was earth, air, fire and spirit, one of the most powerful and unique combinations. Controlling four elements is very rarely seen among the fae.”
I raised my eyebrows at this. “Is there anyone who can control all five elements?”
Penelope nodded. “Just one, and she is our queen and your grandmother.”
“If the fae are so powerful, how come mages rule these lands?”
“In ages past, the fae were feared and revered by all races, but over the centuries—for reasons unknown—the magic of the fae has become weak,” Penelope explained. “Most of the fae born now are either air- or earth-fae. Fire-, water-, and especially spirit-fae are very scarce, and there is only a handful of your grandmother’s fae-knights left to defend her kingdom.”
I nodded. It was enthralling learning about the fae, but students had started filing in, so more would have to wait.
Healing was an eye-opener. I never expected that I could use my powers to heal, and to such a degree, although it would take years of intense training to do what Penelope could do.
In healing studies, we learned about different herbs and their properties to assist healing, how to combine them, and where they should be used and in what quantity. The most fantastic revelation was that I could actually learn to use my powers to heal a wound or a broken bone. It was difficult, but possible with my will and magic alone.
If I were able to use my fae powers for healing, I would never deplete my power source. But I couldn’t take the risk of even Penelope knowing that I was actually a fae-mage. Uncle Gabriel had explained the risks. So I went about my day learning what I could.
I was eager to test my powers and see what I could really do. I knew that in order to become a fully trained mage, I had to complete four years of mage studies at the academy. I also knew that I didn’t have that much time on my hands. The sooner I learned how to use my powers, the better. I had no idea what Uncle Gabriel had planned for me, but I needed to be ready to face whatever it was, and time was running out.
The Blackwaters
The next day at lunch, I asked for directions and found my way to the school cafeteria. Until then I had only eaten in my dorm house, where there was always something laid out for the girls to snack on.
My eyes went wide as I took in these new surroundings. The Evolon cafeteria was the most amazing school cafeteria I had ever seen. There were no benches or wooden tables for us to sit on. Instead, a vast and beautiful garden—more like a small park—stretched across the school grounds to the edge of the woods that surrounded the city. Evolon students milled around everywhere, strolling the narrow paths bursting with lavender-pink blooms and eating their food on colorful mats spread out on the grass.
It was such a lovely concept, a picnic in the park. Even the stalls that served the assortment of food were unique. Standing barrels decorated with flowers were stacked with a variety of delicious-looking sandwiches, small meat pies, breads, and cheeses. Various picnic baskets were packed and displayed on a round wooden table, and students could pick up a ready basket if they wanted a pre-set menu.
Colorful glass balls, which hung low from the trees, dispensed juice and water. The cut stump of a massive tree served as a wonderful dessert table, piled high with fabulous cakes and mouth-watering pastries.
I filled my exquisitely carved wooden tray and went to sit down on my own under a secluded tree. I was waiting for Vivienne, who was late as usual. I had soon realized that my roommate had absolutely no concept of time. Last night Mrs. Richbald, our housemistress, gave her a lecture for over an hour because she arrived late for dinner.
I was picking on a flaky meat pie when someone came and stood beside my tree, blocking the sun.
“You are the Silverthorne ward, are you not?” said a haughty, nasally voice.
I looked up, squinting against the glare.
A blond-haired boy, who looked like he was about my age, was standing near me with his arms crossed.
I nodded slightly. I was a little stunned that someone had come out of his way to talk to me. His voice was high-pitched for a boy, and he looked very arrogant. Although he was smiling, his smile never reached his cold blue eyes.
I nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“We thought,” said the haughty boy, glancing over at his friends who were sitting on a mat close by, “that since you are so obviously alone, you should come and sit with us.”
I was taken aback—he seemed quite full of himself, but it was better than sitting alone, and maybe it would be good to get to know some more people in the school. He was quite good-looking, I had to admit, but there was something about him that made me feel uneasy.
I tried to salvage some of my pride. “I’m not alone; I’m waiting for someone.”
He acted like I hadn’t even spoken and gave me his hand. “I am Damien, by the way.”
I hesitantly took it and got up, brushing remnants of stuck grass from my robes.
“Rory,” I muttered under my breath.
“You can wait with us,” said Damien, and before I could reply, he had already scooped up my tray. And so I had no choice. I followed him to where his friends were sitting.
Damien sat down and gestured for me to sit beside him. A big, muscly guy moved over to make room on the mat, and he didn’t seem happy about it.
“That’s Zorek,” Damien said, inclining his head toward the big fellow sitting next to him. “And Calisto.” He gestured toward the girl in the group. She was blonde and extremely beautiful, but her eyes were black as coal, and I had to suppress the urge to retreat.
Calisto smiled a catlike, sinister smile. “How quaint, Duke Silverthorne’s poor orphaned ward,” she said scathingly. “Damien, you do have a penchant for picking up strays. This one is the scruffiest yet.” She eyed me up and down.
I looked down at my hands. I knew I was not a blonde bombshell like her, but I wasn’t bad looking. With my long black hair and big green eyes I thought I was quite striking, but I soon remembered I now had short, mousy-brown hair and eyes the color of mud. Still, my heart-shaped face, small nose, and full lips were the same.
I couldn’t think of a retort to Calisto’s mean comment, so I said nothing. I think she expected a fight, and she now looked disappointed that her jabs hadn’t worked. She reminded me a bit of my Aunt Ariana, and I knew how to deal with her kind.
“My sister,” Damien added as an afterthought, as if it explained her behavior toward me. “She is in her second year here at the academy.”
My eyebrows drew together as I studied them. What did they want with me? Did they really want to be friends, or was this something else? Calisto and Zorek had resumed their banter and seemed to have forgotten I was there.
“So,” said Damien, giving me a thin smile, “it seems that we are in the same warrior skills class.”
“Oh!” I wasn’t very good at conversation, especially with boys. I thought I had been getting better at it; obviously, I had deceived myself. I was still a complete idiot when it came to these things. The strange thing was that I didn’t even like Damien, I just wanted so much to be accepted that I didn’t want to be rude.
He continued to chatter on about classes and some gossip about one of the professors. Mostly I had no clue who or what he was talking about. In a few minutes, they all got up to leave.
“Talk to you later at warrior skills,” said Damien in a k
now-it-all manner, as if he were merely stating a fact instead of asking me.
I nodded and waved goodbye. Calisto and Zorek didn’t even look back. I dropped my hand, embarrassed. What was wrong with me? I felt like kicking myself as I finished playing with the remnants of food on my tray.
Finally, Vivienne ran over, huffing and puffing. “Sorry, sorry,” she said as soon as she saw my face. “I was in the alchemy house when one of the students blew up the whole classroom. We had to go and help the rest of the class and take them to the healers.”
One of the girls from my dorm, the one who ignored me at the breakfast table, sauntered over. Her hair was flaming red and tied in a frizzy ponytail, but it was her massive nose that dominated her gaunt face.
“So, looks like Damien has taken a liking to you,” she said, a silly smile spreading across her face.
“He wanted to be friends, I guess,” I said, glancing at Vivienne who finally sat down next to me. She didn’t say anything but started eating her food.
“And you said yes, of course,” the girl squealed. “How lucky you are to get asked out by Damien Blackwater in your first week here.”
“Oh, is that his full name?” I scrunched up my nose. “Suits him. And no, I did not agree to go out with him. I just sat with him for lunch.”
“Same thing,” she said, sitting down next to me. “Will you be seeing him again?”
I shrugged. “In class, I guess.”
Vivienne raised her eyebrows and gave me a pointed look. “I would stay away from Damien if I were you.”
“Don’t listen to Vivienne, her family has never liked the Blackwaters. Damien doesn’t talk to just anybody. He’s the most popular boy in the school.” The girl gave me her hand. “I’m Celia, by the way. Celia Greendew. My father is a viscount, in case you were wondering.”
I wasn’t, but I didn’t say that aloud. What was wrong with these people? Did they just become friends with me because of who I knew? And was it really necessary for me to know that her father was a viscount?
The Last of the Firedrakes (The Avalonia Chronicles Book 1) Page 17