by N. Saraven
“No, it’s not like that,” muttered Rita grimly, poking her food with the two-tine fork. Suddenly her appetite vanished.
Seeing her gloomy features, Agony cut in.
“These mages can cook, can’t they? If somebody told me a few circles back that I’d eat in the most wretched dark mage caste with dozens of mages, I’d laugh and buy him a drink for the good joke. And now look at me …” Agony swayed his head, then he continued wolfing down his scrambled eggs.
“On the other hand, I would be curious what you need to qualify as a cook here … or a cleaning lady,” mused Rita between bites.
The first thing she immediately recognised was how neat and clean everything looked in the Tower, at all times. She knew about some servants, but as far as she could tell, they were not used in this manner. They usually never showed themselves and were under the control of the Masters of Varomor only.
Rita had the ‘honour’ to meet one of them up close—an undead creature, who almost killed her by mistake. She had never seen any of the others and barely could find another person who did. Nonetheless, everybody knew of those creatures who became the spies. The Masters could not send any of the apprentices nor the shadow dragons into Nar to get information about Indrek. This was the servants’ job, who could cover big distances in a very short time, almost without a trace, even from that strange land, where they lived now. They somehow used the World’s Power as routes, but that was the most anybody knew.
Stories circled around, though, about the servants and of what they were capable. Rita had heard almost every one of them, some in several forms.
Before anybody else could say anything, Eryn stepped to the companions’ table. He just stepped out from the lunch-chamber with a cup of hot tea in his hands. Thanks to his keen hearing, he noticed Rita’s question, so he joined the friends, drawing all their attention.
“Every apprentice and mage has their specified duties, beside their studies,” the wraith started. “They must keep their room clean, and the classmates tend to their classrooms. The common halls, like the library, are assigned to a little group to keep in order. Every place can be controlled at any time, without announcing it up front. If a chamber does not pass the examination, the person or persons will be punished.
“The kitchen is under control of its staff. Every single one of them is an apprentice or a mage; they just like to cook, so after a while they were allowed to actually open one. Regarding the supplies, many took upon themselves that responsibility. Usually the hunters and gatherers volunteer to do so, taking this time from their own free time. If their studies descend, they will be forced to leave these activities until they catch up. The gardens, on the other hand, are for everybody to attend, taking turns. The shadow dragons take care of themselves, hunting in small groups near Varomor. I hope I answered your questions.”
Finished, Eryn bowed faintly, then strolled off to a sunny spot to drink his tea.
“Wow,” noted Rita, turning back to her breakfast.
“The hunters I know too; sometimes I join them,” said Agony, who finished his food first, so now he sipped his water which they got with their meal.
Not much time passed before he got his hands on Kira’s leftovers. The shade ate less than anybody, which the warrior never minded. Everybody knew that Agony sometimes spent the whole day outside, so he often liked to consume a huge breakfast.
“What’s the plan for today, by the way?” asked Rita as she played with one of the pets who lived in the Tower.
Many had a home there, making life whole for the inhabitants. Nobody minded them, although there was a number which Neila and Halgor would not want to pass regarding how many of them could stay. Usually the animals strolled around as they liked and got everything they desired from specific people. They knew exactly what they could get from whom. Not that they would not have everything already, they just loved to be caressed, or take a little snack after their meals.
The one who now cadged from Rita, eyeing her leftovers, waited for some treats too. It took the food from the tip of the fork like it had education. Not a morsel fell to the ground. Then it took her petting, with what seemed a huge grin, as it panted. Its eyes showed that at the moment, everything was in its rightful place.
“You’re such a good doggie-woggie,” babbled Rita to the creature, who now wagged its tail.
“It’s not a dog …” Agony interrupted her, who mostly tried to correct her.
“I know, I know.” The girl sighed, still petting the animal. “But he looks almost exactly like my dogs back on Earth. He has bigger eyes, and he is a herbivore, but that’s it. In every other way he looks like my Retrievers. You are just as sassy, aren’t you? Yeees, you are! Yes you are! You like when I pet your belly, don’t ya?” she continued, smiling.
“If you say so …”
“As for your question earlier, you’ll be mine again.” Talek grinned, seeing her almost-scared gaze.
This meant that she would fall into bed beyond exhausted again. She gave a moan, seeing her grim future.
“And we will look for something edible out there.” Agony gestured at Kira with his head.
He kept it no secret that he decided it was time for the young shade to learn how to ‘live on the rim’, as he put it. Starting from how to make a trap, through finding drinkable water, to creating an acceptable lair for the night. She mostly could find a way to slip away from the training, but today was not amongst them. The warrior got a hand on her when Talek took over Rita and made her march into the wilderness. As for Kira, nobody knew what the shade thought of this exactly. She never complained or said an ill word about it.
“Lyta!” called Agony to the next table, where a young kobold apprentice ate while reading a book. When she heard the voice calling her name, she looked up.
“We’ll look into the kitchen to put something together for ourselves, if you don’t mind,” said the warrior.
The kobold just nodded, then turned back to her book. She was the main cook in the kitchen; everything fell under her control and responsibility. Nobody could enter the kitchen until she gave permission. The supply chamber was attached to the mess and Lyta protected it furiously. Although she knew well Agony’s visitations to the kitchen, when he just ‘put something together’ before he headed out.
“We’ll join you, then move out too,” said Talek.
The companions all stood up, then started back to the lunchroom with their trays. They had to put them in a specific area, from where the kitchen staff could collect them. Then they changed direction to the door into the cooking area. At the far side of it started the huge pantry. Just by the door lay an area where all the scouts’ and hunters’ things were collected.
Flasks hung from pegs, from some, several. Above each peg, little name tags could be seen, although nobody would take someone else’s. In a wooden cabinet next to it lay cloaks, jackets, boots, all in neat order—everything what one would need before heading out.
After the friends picked up their things, Talek and Rita started outside first. They had to walk in zigzag in the huge garden, which stretched around the building, because shadow dragons were everywhere. They played, chatted, or just snoozed in the sunny meadow.
Rita still watched them with awe, although they proved to be much smaller than she imagined them from her books. She bet that their bodies were the size of those three-wheeled, huge Harley motors, excluding their wings and tails. Although she never asked, they must have not weighed more than two or three hundred kilograms, thanks to their light bone structure. Their lean bodies were made for speed, just as their V-shaped wings. As far as Rita knew, they were the fastest of the dragon races, which meant that they could be easily exhausted too.
Compared to them, the sunlit dragon Goldenrain was twice as big. He was built for long-term journeys, mostly gliding on the back of the winds. Their wings were long, yet lean—perfect for drifting through the skies.
The bright dragons stood somewhere in between them, as f
ar as Rita could tell and based only on Cameron.
As the two friends strolled forwards, they passed a learning group. The dragons sat on the ground, repeating everything their teacher said, who was a young human boy, around seventeen. But Rita could not really tell his age; he looked like one of those fellows who had a face of a twenty-year-old even when he was forty. He had a very difficult job because he did not have a dragon around all the time who already knew common and thus could help. Mostly it seemed a game of ‘I will show you and you can guess’.
Rita swayed her head, hearing the mostly wrong tries of the shadow dragons. They always were eager to do anything, but they needed an enormous amount of patience. Then she glanced around the lovely garden. Some parts were fenced away, where special plants grew for medicine, tea, spices, or ingredients for spells. The most poisonous ones were as hidden as they could be, especially from the whimsical reptiles. They had a tendency to destroy everything despite their best effort to keep the benches or bushes intact. Even the grass needed to be magically grown, otherwise the dragons’ clawed feet would eliminate that too.
“Come to mind, what happened to Silumar and the other kinwas?” Rita broke the silence between them. She intended to speak softly, although the reptiles all around made a fairly big noise.
The kobold glanced at her, raising one brow. He obviously did not know why anybody would care about a kinwa …
“After Veilon and me got a hold of him, he sent him back with Goldenrain. As for the others, I assume that Neila or Halgor took care of them, teleporting them somewhere else too. But I don’t really know, nor care.”
“I don’t really understand why you couldn’t let him stay here. He seemed like a nice little fellow,” mused the girl. “Every time you speak about him, it feels like … I don’t know how to put it … as if you speak about something very ugly, or useless, or nasty AND useless. Utterly condescending. You are not very humane with him.”
“Hu—what?”
“Um … so really not nice. Isn’t it … you know, animal cruelty or something?”
“I don’t think so,” snorted the soldier. “You have no idea how much trouble a single kinwa can make.”
“How come? Sil seemed nice enough for me.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” The soldier shook his head. “That is the trap. They look innocent with their pup eyes and such. But believe me, nothing could be further from the truth. They are EVERYWHERE, always jabbering about something, asking questions, making suggestions, poking, prodding, hopping all around …! You cannot even take a breath without one telling you a story about something it made up and so on. You can never get rid of one, ever! No, no, no, no, we need many things right now but that, alright?”
“But if even Halgor took the time to get the others to safety … although I wouldn’t imagine otherwise from an elf.”
“From a what?”
“Uh, sorry … old habit.” Rita blushed.
They reached the Mist which stretched like a pitch-black fog in front of them. Rita found it still disturbing, mostly because she could not work out—was it alive or not? All she knew was that everybody who lived in the Tower he let through smoothly, in or out. Just like now—it parted, making a slim path in itself. It took a couple of steps to get through.
The damp, hot air on the other side immediately struck the friends as they arrived.
“Oh my God, I hated rainforests, even in books,” groaned Rita, as she tied her hair up into a bun to free her neck. It felt as if she could never have fresh air in her lungs. She totally understood why the dragons wanted a different weather inside the Mist. But how else would they adapt, if they eluded the situation?
“You always talk about books. Didn’t you have anything better to do than read …?” snorted Talek. He immediately jerked his glance away, however, biting his lip, when Rita looked at him. Obviously it came out more bitter than he intended.
“Yeah … something like that,” she muttered.
They walked the rest of the way in silence. They created a practice area near the Mist for archery because it would be very irresponsible to do that around the dragons.
“So, let’s see what you can do,” started Talek as he drew his bow seemingly from nowhere. He strung it swiftly, then also got an arrow from the just-appeared quiver on his back.
Rita gazed at this with an open mouth.
“I will never get bored with that,” she gasped. “How do these magical weapons work exactly? Everybody mentions them. I know that Neila’s bow and sword were made by magic. But I cannot figure this out; something is just off. How can they be invisible and not, or what’s up with that?”
Talek blinked a few times, trying to comprehend. Then he started to answer.
“Not all who are interested in magic get to that level or want to learn it. I did, even though I am not that into magic myself. Anyhow, for this one, one would need to make the object completely separated from the World’s Power. It isn’t important how, you’ll know, if you ever get there. Some create more than one weapon; it’s a matter of taste. When you make the weapon, it’s like creating it from your feelings and thoughts, from you, using directly the Worlds’ Power. In a way, they are a part of you. So you control their visibility with your thoughts. You know where their place is, so they’ll be there. When you ‘don’t care’ about them, if I can put it this way, then they become invisible. But when you need them, they’ll be where you left them.”
“Wow, this is heavy stuff. I mean, hard to understand.” Rita swayed her head. Talek just made a well-yeah grimace.
“It’s hard to explain when you’re not learning magic at all. And obviously, you have to make everything with magic if you want them to be invisible. Like the quiver, for example, or the arrows. If you don’t do that, only the weapon will be invisible.”
“So Neila’s every weapon was made purely with magic? Plus their accessories?”
“Yes, just like my bow and quiver.”
“And your arrows? I saw you collecting feathers and carving wood.” Rita frowned, as she tried to make it clear in her head.
“Well … it’s a bit complicated. Actually, there are two ways to have these kinds of weapons. One, what I told you, that you make them from the World’s Power. Two, that you buy an actual weapon, like everybody else, then make them magical, like you would do with any other object. So yes, I make my arrows because I like to do it. Then I enchant them.”
“I … I think I understand now.” Rita nodded, although she still seemed to be thinking hard.
“But we’re here to practise. The usual marks, please,” he chided Rita, who blushed, lowering her gaze.
Everybody knew that she hated when she made a mistake, however small it was. Talek just stared at the target hanging on a tree-side to avoid looking at her. He always found her shyness charming, her blushing alluring. This, however, made him abashed too, which he tried to hide as well.
Rita took a deep breath, probably to calm herself. She also strung her bow, but her features told that she was unsatisfied with how she did it. Talek almost opened his mouth to say something soothing, but he stayed silent. He sighed, and while he watched her practise, his thoughts wandered off.
When she became his pupil, or rather, when Neila assigned her to him, he gave this specific bow to her. Everybody knew that there could be no better bow than one made by a kobold. He also promised that when she became good enough, she would get a real weapon instead of a practising one. Although Rita said that she thought that a short-bow was formidable enough, the soldier just chuckled and swayed his head. Then he let it go because he did not want her to bother herself with things that were still far away from her level.
Very far, as it turned out … Talek himself was surprised how patient he could be towards her. Especially when she could not even string her bow at first; she lacked the physical strength, nor knew how to manage it properly.
So first things first: the soldier had to start the training with strength-building
exercises. She said she was an archeress in her world, but he just could not believe it. He was not doubting her word, only that she seemed to know almost nothing, so no wonder that she was pretty terrible. At least, to his level of expectations, yet he never said anything out loud. He just showed her what and how to do things several times, as much as she needed it.
The soldier sometimes bit his lips hard to make himself stay silent. He hardly could say anything good about her condition, which proved to be poorer than any human he had ever met before. Her technique still was a mess; it was very difficult for him not to say anything harsh.
On the other hand, Talek could not criticise Rita’s efforts. She worked really hard and rarely complained about his methods, although she might have been a little too sensitive. Whenever she made a mistake, she looked truly hurt. Somehow nothing came to her naturally; she still had to watch for her breathing, her pose, everything. Because of her bad results, sometimes it became so overwhelming, she burst out in despair.
In these rare cases, Talek only blinked, uncertain what he should do or say. Not to mention, most of the times he had no idea what had brought that on …
Although Rita only wanted to let out some steam, and after, she continued where she had stopped. So all the soldier needed to do was to smile and nod to everything she said.
The paragon felt amazed at how much he could learn of her just by listening. He came to know how deeply she was bothered by her failures, how she needed to start from the very beginning. As she said, she would be a champion in her old world, undefeated, with more medals and trophies than she could count. Whatever that meant …
Anyhow, Talek actually could relate to why she felt so disappointed in herself. Because of that, he never made the situation worse, only reassuring her that these difficulties could be overcome. She just needed to work hard, which she surely did. During the two seasons, Rita managed to improve a great deal.
The soldier shook his head to get rid of the useless thoughts and focused on her practising.