Wings on my Back

by Alex Sapegin

  “Bravo! You’ve really impressed me, young man,” someone’s excited voice interrupted the unhurried monologue.

  During the course of the lecture, their small company had divided into pairs. Rigaud put his arm around the blonde Marika’s waist, and Irma’s hand had subtly slipped into Andy’s. Making their way up the wide sidewalk and hanging on Andy’s every word, no one had noticed someone in a blue professor’s coat walking behind them for several minutes already and carefully listening to their conversation. Andy almost jumped on the spot as if he’d heard a shot, the words behind him were so unexpected. His right hand automatically went to his sword, grabbing at nothing. The blade was in the room he had rented. It wasn’t easy, going about without defensive “spider webs,” and the space around had no surveillance. He had lowered his sense of hearing as well as his sense of smell, and he hadn’t yet gotten a headache as a result of the dreadful row of the city streets.

  The professor caught up to them and walked alongside them giving the young people the chance to look him over from head to toe. His blue professor’s blazer of the School of Magic hid a man of about forty. Middle aged. He had a nice oval face, a thin aristocratic nose, and intelligent brown eyes. His wheat-colored hair was gathered into a ponytail at the back of his head with a silk thread. Once alongside the young people, he looked at them with curiosity, his gaze resting on the willing speaker.

  “Amazing! I never would’ve thought that in our time anyone would be interested in the causative factors of the siege and the connection with the acceptance of new students into the School of Magic with no regard to race. Only you failed to mention, young man, the protest by the Forest elves, directed at rector Olmar. As a result, they drew up some papers and now it’s been four hundred years already that the children of his Lordship haven’t gone to our School! That’s right, they aren’t accepted, one cannot consider the occasional intern a bookworm.”

  “What about the Rauu? The Snow Elves would gladly study at the Orten School,” Irma spoke up, pressing against Andy a bit stronger as she did so under the influence of the moment. Andy didn’t object.

  “The Rauu, young lady, are in a state of constant conflict with their Forest brethren. No one knows for certain how many thousands of years their animosity has been smoldering, sometimes flaring up into outright war.”

  “Five,” Andy whispered flatly, who happened to know the reason for the wars and conflicts between the Rauu and the Forest Lordships. Karegar had told him everything. Andy remembered the hatred for the Forest Lordships burning in his adopted father’s eyes. The Snow Rauu and the Dawn-bringers presented themselves to them as faithful and reliable allies and friends, all white and fuzzy, although they were abundantly covered in dirt by their vindictive forest brethren. He had inherited a loathing for the Forest Lordships from Karegar. He, too, began to despise them for the blood that was shed.

  “Five?” the professor had heard him. “This is getting more and more interesting. I wish you all luck on the entrance exams. I’ll be glad to see you in the history faculty where you might become more enlightened about the mages of Ilanta. Especially you,” he nodded to Andy. “I hope you’ll tell us where you got this information and recount the reason for war between the different elf peoples. Oh, yes, I’m so scatterbrained: I forgot to introduce myself. Professor Timur teg grall Vinam, at your service. It was nice talking to you, but excuse me, I must be off.”

  The professor bowed to them and slid sideways into an inconspicuous alleyway between two buildings.

  “Mm-hm, listen up, I’ll tell you the history of Ilanta. You’re working with primary sources. Do your archeology, professor,” Andy thought.

  On the other hand, in this moment, Andy wouldn’t have made any promises either way. Maybe he would tell. He liked professor Timur. Seemed like a normal guy. He just had to get in though, that was the kicker.

  The cackle of many voices they had been hearing for a couple of minutes now got louder and louder and their group reached a wide square with a large crowd. The ruckus overtook all four of them. Thousands of young people, human and non-human, had gathered at this marble-floored place. In the middle of the square, ascending hundreds of yards into the sky, stood a snow-white stela. A ten-foot-wide star adorned the summit. The star glowed with a pale pink light, counting down the minutes to the opening of the gates in the wall that encircled the gigantic campus. It consisted of several dozen buildings, parks, a magical polygon, and seven faculty towers. It was a miniature city within the city.

  The School wall itself merits a separate description. It was built of various colored marble, calling to mind a rainbow, and towered twenty yards high. Yet it gave the impression of being light and airy. Two gates in the wall exited to the square which were edged with black and white metal leaves in an interlocking pattern just like a dragon’s scales. The towers above the gates did the opposite—they gave the impression of being massive and solid, showing that the wall was a fortress, a second line of defense in case the Plain walls were ever taken.

  The black and white gates symbolized the use of magic, dark and light. The School endowed its pupils with a good understanding of both. Including necromancy. The mage grall Ilmor, a white necromancer, was included in the annals of the history of Ilanta’s magic. Who would have thought? A light mage who was also a necromancer! What don’t you see nowadays. There were opposite cases as well. Grall Alloi the Dark made a name for himself as a Life mage.

  However, the division of the art of magic into light and dark was being actively disputed by many venerable mages who insisted that there is no such thing as light and dark forces. Mana and magical fields were homogeneous. Mages gave them dark or light poles by way of forming mana through spells, curses and magical rituals. Andy was one active supporter of this idea. How else could one explain the fact that both light and dark spell interweaves came easily to him? The difference between light and dark magic was nothing other than the final outcome of the spell. The same necromancer could have used his forces to heal a fatally wounded person, or a light Life mage might kill him or her by making him age over a few minutes. Just try to figure out where the light and dark are in cases like that!

  Meanwhile, the crowd on the square was growing. Andy’s little group decided not to make their way through the crowd but just wait until it thinned out, then head towards the School gates to join the other would-be holders of a student’s uniform. Judging by the fact that another several dozen people remained standing or sitting on the benches near the edge of the square, they weren’t the only ones who had chosen this tactic. The gates would be open till five, wagon hour, as they called it here. What’s more, Andy had been feeling a bit restless for the past few hours and a bit uncomfortable. Sometimes, he caught himself wanting to go up to some surface and scratch his back against it. His mood would suddenly change then; he became bitter and annoyed. He felt like fighting with someone.

  “Kerr, look!” Andy felt Irma elbow him in the side. “To the right! Snow Rauu! Aren’t they beautiful?”

  Not her, too! She even widened her eyes and was breathing heavily. Andy wanted to spit.

  A whole delegation of Snow Rauu elves or just Rauu, as they call themselves, had stopped next to them. The head of the delegation was a broad-shouldered male, uncharacteristic for the pointy-eared mountain dwellers. Just like an icebreaker on the ice ridges of pack ice, he towered over the youth and the body guards accompanying them. The elf’s snowy, silvery locks were gathered in black ribbons. His thick warrior’s braid hung down past his waist. The women in the delegation sported loose hair that covered their backs and shoulders to the waist. The young men were parading about flaunting their apprentice’s double pigtails. The body guards/chaperones were hiding their secrets behind hooded cloaks, masking their warrior hairstyles which contained a multitude of slicing and poking hooks, needles, and amulets. A blow from a ponytail with such decorations to an undefended face would most certainly blind you. And the warrior-Rauu were definitely adroit at han
dling their bodies and extra weapons. They were all disgustingly beautiful. The descriptions Andy had read in books back on Earth didn’t come close to doing them justice. They were proud, haughty, exquisite; excellence shone in their eyes, flavored with a touch of contempt for the short-lived. Icicles, as they were called, and not just behind their backs. But Jagirra surpassed each one of them by a hundred points. The elderly elf, Andy’s honorary mother, besides beauty and other attributes, stood out from the rest by sheer eloquence, which her simple peasant dress couldn’t hide. And the main thing that separated her from all the rest was her lack of self-importance. Jaga’s face never showed a trace of arrogance or contempt for humans. The Mistress of the valley adopted the same attitude towards all inhabitants of the mountainous nook.

  The Rauu literally radiated strength and determination. It seemed as if they were not undergoing a trial, but were simply out for a walk. The elves’ auras glittered like precious gems, filled with an inner light, eclipsing the pale glow of the energy shells of the humans nearby.

  The elves, paying no heed to the crowd, looked over the people’s heads and acted as if they were wary of getting dirty should they come too close. They were putting on airs as goodness knows what. The arrogant jerks! Do they consider themselves supermen or something? Andy’s mood swung. As during molting time, he felt a flood of irritation and mounting anger. The sharp change in mood, the annoyance, the rage… was it molting time? As it just so happened, he hadn’t had it lately, not recently enough to feel completely “happy.” He looked at the Rauu and held back a guttural growl in his chest. He felt somehow pulled into all the difficulties. Peace, tranquility, he recalled the lessons of the great Taoist master Winnie the Pooh. It didn’t really help. His irritation reached the boiling point. Those bloody Rauu—they picked up the hoity-toity attitude from their sylvan relatives? Ooh boy, does it bother me! He couldn’t let it go. And everyone else couldn’t take their eyes off them. He had to correct this situation….

  They were ice cold statues. Mute in their greatness. Well now, we’re aware, heard something about that already. We’ll just have to battle the Icicles with cosmic chill. Andy assumed the highest and mightiest expression he could imagine, straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin and, with impenetrable superiority in his eyes, examined the Icicles. He looked at them as one looks at ants crawling underfoot. Oh, there we go; it cut a couple of them to the quick. The guards practically stopped breathing; apparently, they were choking on something. Good people, what’s going on here? What’s the world coming to? You aren’t as imperturbable as they say now, are you? Your auras are glowing with wrath. Just take a look—a couple of them are boiling, and some are so hot you could fry an egg on them. What’s the matter, don’t like getting a taste of your own medicine? Deal with it, “allies.”

  The head Rauu, noticing the silent discontent, confusion, and righteous indignation of the youth they were accompanying into the School, glanced around in search of the culprit. Andy made sure not to lessen the cold expression and attitude of superiority written on his face and showing in his aura—no, on the contrary, he took down a couple of will shields and added some power. Let them fear him. Ooh, seems I’ve overdone it, look how upset they are. Andy got a cheerful daredevil feeling. He felt like asking for trouble for the second time that day. Well, Targ take them! No one better dare to look right through me and my friends! How ‘bout that—friends already. So you’ve taken those three under your wing, have you? And where, pray tell, is that turtle who so recently was hiding under his shell, afraid of everyone around him? He’s gone, bit the dust in the streets of the free city. I’m sick of that meek turtle posing as a blank space! Daddy Karegar would probably have been enraged with that kind of behavior. Had he forgotten his instructions? “Be calm. Keep your head down. Guard your honor and dignity…” Yada yada. But I haven’t forgotten the main command he told me last of all: “Do what your heart tells you.” And my heart’s telling me… to master the molt and the desire to let loose. He had almost had a fight near the gates, thank the Twins he didn’t end up as ground meat. And now the elves?

  What’s happening here, Irma?! What’s with the eyes? With eyes as big as those, the elves will get jealous. The girl became noticeably tense all over. Andy followed her gaze. One of the Icicles had left the group of Rauu—the iceberg. The slab of ice in humanoid form was heading towards the group led by the were-dragon. A large elf coming this way? Really?!

  Andy sensed a scanning interweave behind his back. Sooo… that’s how you want to play it, huh? He made a mental click on the spell, and the feeling of being watched disappeared. Instead, he got the feeling of someone standing behind him. Irma, Marika, pop your eyes back into your heads. Rigaud, close your mouth!

  “Young man, would you be so kind as to share the reason for your irritation? Tell me what we’ve done to incur your dissatisfaction?” The Rauu’s soft baritone met Andy’s ears. He was standing two steps away. A veiled sneer had crept into his tone of voice. The words “young man” were said in such a way that could have turned fresh milk sour, and it became clear that there was to be no conversation on equal footing. And there need not be! He could answer with the same exact attitude; the guy could do nothing about it. Although Andy didn’t like snobs, he decided to answer with a bit of courtesy and introduce himself, hinting at the elves’ lack of etiquette in doing so.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kerr. If you’d like the full name, Kerrovitarr! And who do I have the honor of addressing, sir?”

  Andy turned to the Rauu and bowed his head in greeting. But there was so much ice in his tone of voice that one could have used it to re-freeze the Arctic and then some. And the arrow hit its mark; his lips curled. He was digesting this speech. He was used to people cowering before him, fawning over him, and here he was being set up as an ill-mannered man. Well-bred humans and elves introduce themselves before beginning a conversation with an unknown person. And why are you staring at my eyes like that? Haven’t you ever seen eyes without whites? Apparently not. He wasn’t afraid of the fangs. He could tell he wasn’t a vampire. Under the mask of an arrogant freak, there was actually a normal human face. He wasn’t expecting that. That’s right, man, breathe. Just breathe. Now that you’ve taken it all in, what do you have to say?

  “En grall Vilomiel, count Staro, authorized trusted council of the Rauu princes. What have we done to offend you?”

  That’s it. I’m already afraid! Andy’s mischievous dissatisfaction and recklessness were replaced with anger. Knowing in the depths of his soul that he was digging himself into a hole, he couldn’t, or perhaps didn’t want to, stop.

  “Why do you want to know that?” he answered the question with a question. It was a Rauu! Vilomiel, don’t forget to breathe! Easy now, or who will you call for help?

  The Rauu became visibly upset. He looked like he’d just been punched in the stomach. Where now was that icy calm and self-control they were so well known for? It was kind of like watching a carp flapping its gills on the ice, and the long-eared guys behind him resembled roaches, their faces were so stretched. Andy smiled from the corners of his mouth. It really got the poor guy’s goat. No respect. Even the formerly imperturbable bodyguards were dumbfounded with wide eyes. They were impressed. Where was the homage due to immortals, their grace and beauty? This guy had no blind admiration and adoration. Irma was as red as a tomato. The girl’s grown up now, hasn’t she? First she makes eyes like saucers at these pointy-ears, now she’s swallowed her tongue. Go back to Marika and Rigaud, back to the countryside you came from. Oh! The Rauu’s caught his breath, he’s about to say something.

  “Are you trying to provoke us?” Vilomiel finally managed.

  “Yes,” Andy did not hide the truth. “I don’t appreciate it, you see, when people look right through me. It enrages me, like a beast!” Andy smiled, as he had done so not long ago to the northern Vikings, making all thirty-two teeth into sharp points. The elf stepped back. “A little advice. Be mo
re open, humbler, and people will be drawn to you. All things being equal, you voluntarily came to Orten so that your youth could study at the School. The local bookworms haven’t invited themselves to your home there in the mountains. It’s your children who’ll be spending five years here. You’d be better off leaving your arrogance and snobbishness at home. Otherwise, you’ll constantly run the risk of provoking a negative reaction. You didn’t like mine, for example. I won’t try to hide the fact that a superior attitude towards others bugs me.” (The turtle was definitely dead. It was definitely molting time.) “You should be glad you’re not Forest elves! I take them down right away or send them to the final judgment. Can’t stand them! … Anyway, with an attitude like that, you really shouldn’t be here. In six months, all the students will be used to your elvish beauty, and then they’ll start getting really sick of your antics. I ask you, do you really need that? And now, please excuse me. My lady doesn’t like waiting. It’s been an honor!”

  The Rauu opened and closed his mouth scoffing in amazement as Andy spoke. The group of friends behind him resembled bobble heads with open mouths. Even the bodyguards lost their cool, bulged their eyes, and opened their mouths. It took one reproach to achieve the effect similar to the one of a cistern of cold water thrown on everybody.