The Last of the Firedrakes

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  I was picking leaves out of my hair and smoothing my dress when I saw it. According to Vivienne, the library of Evolon was famous throughout the whole kingdom and beyond for housing the greatest collection of knowledge, second only to the knowledge of the fae, who had lived in this world longer than any other race.

  It was a fantastic structure, which looked a lot like a sixteenth-century manor house. Wisteria had climbed the walls of the front façade, which was huge and imposing, and two additional wings led out at right angles towards the sea. It stood on the highest point of the university grounds, on a cliff overlooking the clear blue waters of the Bay of Pearls. The main avenue leading to it was lined with cherry blossoms and was packed with scurrying students eager to get to their classes and not turn up late.

  We hurried towards the massive structure, not wanting to be late on my first day. We climbed the large stone steps and stepped through the oak doors and into the library.

  The inside of the library was just as wonderful; the foyer was a majestic, high-ceilinged room with a grand staircase and corridors leading to the classes on the first floor. The whole ground floor consisted of reading rooms, which all opened up into each other. Shelves upon shelves of thousands of books, worn and bound in brown leather, lined the walls reaching all the way to the top of the high oak-beamed ceiling. Small tables and benches had been placed in all the rooms, and students were quietly working at their studies while library monitors prowled the corridors. One big table where the chief librarian sat was placed in the center of the massive foyer.

  I climbed the stairs and followed the signs to my classroom, which was all the way at the end of the west wing of the structure. I wanted to sit at the back, but Vivienne, who was obviously an extremely eager student, pulled me up to sit in the front with her. I was always very conscious of sitting in the front, not because I didn’t want to learn, but because I was afraid the teacher might call on me or ask me a question, and I wasn’t ready for that.

  The class was already full, and the professor entered just as the last of the students trickled in. “I am Professor Plumpleberry,” she said, as she waved her hand in a flick and the door slammed shut behind her. I was relieved. If Penelope were teaching this class, I would be okay.

  I noted a few girls giggle. Professor Plumpleberry did not hear them or simply chose to ignore them. I had to admit it was a funny name, especially since it suited her so well.

  Professor Plumpleberry was not what you would expect of a history and ancient studies teacher. Although I knew she was fae, the others hadn’t noticed yet. She looked so young and was suitably plump with curly, white-blonde hair. But I knew she was a very old fae and highly skilled at magic.

  “Good morning everyone,” Professor Plumpleberry said jovially, hovering two feet off the ground. Some of the others gasped. I grinned; I was happy to see Penelope.

  “For those of you who have looks on your faces that would give the village idiot a run for his money,” Professor Plumpleberry said, tucking her hair behind her pointed ears, “I am one of the fae, and I am three hundred and ninety-three years old. So, if any of you do not think I am qualified to teach ancient studies, you can go to another school. I hear Nerenor has a history teacher who is well into his fifties. I’m sure he can give you as much illumination on the state of our world two or three hundred years ago.”

  Everyone in the room was now quiet, and the giggling girls had promptly shut up.

  “He can give you facts, figures, and embellishments written by biased men, but I can give you the truth,” said Professor Plumpleberry.

  “For instance,” she paused dramatically. The class was now hanging on her every word. “I was there when Dorian the Fourth was king. I watched as his son, Tristan the Third, slew the Gorgoth with his bare hands.”

  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 never had 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. Mrs. Plumpleberry 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, she looked straight at me, her blue eyes twinkling, then 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.” She shook her head then went on. “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 real champion. 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 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 was spewing 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,” he said. “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 mage warriors, but there just aren’t enough of them to go around. We must rely on nonmagical guards too.”

  My thoughts drifted to Rafe. He was an outlaw; 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 didn’t care, 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 towards the alchemy house.

  I had a few minutes before my healing class started, so I went over to the healing house early to meet P
enelope. 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. This was the first time I had been able to speak to her since I arrived. “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 just 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.

  “Getting ready for my next class,” she said, smiling.

  “Are you teaching healing too?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Penelope said. “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 in my class. 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.”

  “That makes sense,” I said.

  “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?” I asked, wondering.

  “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?” I asked.

  “Who knows what goes on in the mind of such a twisted person?” said Penelope, grinding herbs together and then performing 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.” I asked.

  “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 powers. 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?” I asked.

  “The fae gifted with the magic of spirit are the most formidable. They are the only ones who can create portals and produce powerful glamour that can last for centuries, but they are rare.”

  “So what element could my mother control?” I asked.

  “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.”

  “Is there anyone who can control all five elements?” I asked.

  Penelope nodded. “Just one, and she is our queen and your grandmother.”

  “If the fae are so powerful, how come mages rule the lands?” I asked.

  “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 fascinating 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, just 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 Evolon. 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.

  16

  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. Everywhere, Evolon students were milling around, strolling the narrow flower-lined paths 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 just 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 absolu
tely no concept of time at all. Last night Mrs. Richbald, our housemistress, gave her a lecture for over an hour because she arrived late for dinner.

  I was busy tucking into 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. He was quite good looking, but there was something about him that made me feel uneasy.

  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.

  “I’m not alone; I’m waiting for someone,” I said, trying to salvage some of my pride.

  He acted like I hadn’t even spoken. “I am Damien, by the way,” he said and gave me his hand.

  I hesitantly took it and got up, brushing remnants of stuck grass from my robes.

  “Rory,” I said, almost 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,” he said, inclining his head toward the big fellow sitting next to him. “And Calisto,” he gestured towards 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.