Max did not know what these men wanted with his family, but he knew they were up to no good. Max saw his parents being shoved into the atomic portal. The man holding a match held it toward the portal, and in a few seconds it would be on fire. Max knew he had to act quickly. He vaguely remembered his parents telling him about how to activate the portal. In front of him, he saw a series of knobs and buttons. He began pushing them frantically, and the portal immediately began to spin. Max ran toward the portal, hoping to join his parents. But he was too late. The portal erupted in flames as it flew up into space. Just the spinning of the portal created winds that knocked the men off their feet and flung them across the room, instantly killing them. Max took one last look at his parents, and then everything went black.
The next thing he knew, four men dressed in black were crouching over him in awe. He heard them murmuring, “Why is there metal stuck to his skin?” and “Is he a robot?” Next, Max was promptly carted off to the orphanage, which he later found out was a secret school. Once Max had finished telling his story, Sam wondered what had really happened to Max’s parents. Maybe they were alive, and the portal had carried them to another era. “Was Max really a robot?” thought Sam. It would be better not to ask him, because he would probably feel even more miserable. Their conversation soon ended, as did lunch. Sam scrambled back to class, only to find that he would be learning nothing new.
Mr. Sparks could sense Sam’s disappointment at this and assured him that things would get better. After all, there was so much to learn, and so little time to do it. For the rest of the class, Sam spent his time studying the various paintings, tapestries, and drawings on the walls.
There were many drawers filled with peculiar objects, and so many secrets hidden behind them. Glowing gems, shining rocks, and odd stone symbols cluttered the various cabinets, and Sam was excited to explore each and every one of them. Even though he had not learned anything about Dragonology, he was enthralled by all the queer artifacts and perplexing gear. His mind soon drifted off and he started pondering over the events that had occurred at Max’s house. Suddenly it occurred to him that Max’s parents had been attacked the same day his parents had been kidnapped! Was this a coincidence?
PERCEPTION
The day finally ended and Sam ran back to his room, eager to tell Alana about his new friend, as well as his story. Once he had finished, Alana listed the events that played out during her day. She too was extremely excited about her first class, and had discovered some quite marvelous things. Her classroom had an array of sparkling unicorn horns, unicorn rocks, and other objects on display. The students spent the whole day examining and researching these objects. Surprisingly, there was a large number of students in Alana’s class, so she had no problem making friends, and they had a complicated lesson planned out. Sam was a bit envious of Alana, as she had a classroom full of students and she was actually learning in her class.
“Well, we better get to bed,” said Alana. “OK, I guess we can talk more tomorrow,” said Sam wearily. He trudged over to his bed and plopped his face down onto a pillow. Sam fell asleep immediately, but he woke up multiple times in the day with chills and horrible nightmares. He imagined his parents being held captive by the WAR Society and they were mercilessly attacked and tortured to death. Sam realized that the more time he spent in the school, the farther away he was from rescuing his parents. This thought nagged him throughout the night, leaving him distressed and upset.
Sam truly felt that he and Alana needed to talk with Ms. Montrose and make her understand the concern regarding their parents. The day went by slowly and Sam kept tossing and turning in his bed, hoping not to wake Alana. When night finally arrived and Alana woke up, Sam discussed his concerns with her. She was in full agreement with him, mentioning that she had been thinking the same thing. Instead of heading to the dining hall, Sam and Alana walked toward Ms. Montrose’s office.
Ms. Montrose, however, was not there. They looked everywhere for her, opening multiple doors, scanning different rooms, and walking through long corridors, but there was still no sight of her. Utterly disappointed and dejected, Sam and Alana raced to the dining hall to catch some breakfast before it was too late.
They hurriedly ate their breakfast, and Sam tried to spark a conversation with his sister. Alana was infuriated that they had wasted so much time searching for Ms. Montrose, when she was nowhere to be found. Sam tried to calm her and said, “We have to do something, and quick. I think we should run away from the school, or steal a map that will lead us to where Mom and Dad are. We can’t keep waiting to be trained. After all, I’m not so sure if I want to be a Transmalian,” he said. Alana nodded in agreement but said, “I like the school. It’s very interesting, and we are beginning to learn a lot of new things. We should wait for a few more days to see what happens, and then decide what to do.”
Sam was quite shocked at Alana’s response, as she had seemed to be the most upset and he had expected her to agree with him, but, knowing that she would be offended, he said nothing. They waited in silence for a few moments, each hoping the other would say something to break the silence, but nothing of that sort happened. The breakfast bell rang to signal the end of breakfast time. Sam and Alana both headed off to their respective classes, and today they were going to each and every one of the classes that were listed on their schedules. Sam was particularly excited to meet all his new teachers and see what was in store for him in all of the other classes.
He headed off to his class, and was warmly greeted by his teacher, Mr. Sparks. Upon entry, Sam was surprised to find a table displaying a variety of unique objects. The first object that caught his eye was a gleaming red stone. Sam reached out and grabbed the stone, and a scalding pain surged through his fingers. He dropped the stone immediately, letting out a cry after seeing that the table had erupted into flames.
Mr. Sparks rushed to the table with a fire extinguisher and sprayed the table furiously. Yellow foam splattered all over the table and the floor, smothering the flames completely. There were a few charred remains in the wreckage, and among those was a purple gem. Sam frantically picked through the remains to see if there was anything else left. Unfortunately, everything was ash. Sam scooped out the purple gem and wiped off all the ash. “I’m so sorry,” said Sam morosely. “This was the only thing that I found remaining.”
Mr. Sparks shook his head and then smiled. “What you just touched was the stone of ember. It often causes fires when it comes in contact with other objects. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a fire in the classroom,” he said. Sam let out a sigh of relief. He was afraid of what he had done, and quite frankly shocked at what had happened. Then again, this was no ordinary school, and everything inside the school held its own little secrets. “Anyway,” said Mr. Sparks, “you will be happy to hear that I have many other Dragonology artifacts to show you. They’re in the back room.” He pointed to a wooden orange door toward the end of the classroom. The door had a fire emblem on it, and appeared to be quite beaten and worn out. There were scratch marks all over it, and parts of the orange paint were chipping and peeling off. Mr. Sparks led Sam to the door and stopped right in front of it. As Sam glanced at the door from close by, he realized that it had no doorknob. He was just about to ask Mr. Sparks why, but Mr. Sparks pressed his hand up against the door and the door slowly began to melt, forming a massive puddle of orange liquid. The orange liquid, however, did not spread out over the floor. It remained in one spot, retaining its shape and staying still.
Mr. Sparks stepped over this puddle and walked through the empty doorway. Sam followed him, utterly astonished yet puzzled. The room was dark for a brief moment, then torches on either sides of the room began to flicker and illuminate it. Sam stared in awe, seeing that the room was filled with bookshelves stacked with piles of torn papers and ledges lined with rows of peculiar objects. There were racks piled with shining stones, glittering jewels, and dusty artifacts. Swords hung all over the walls in display, along with shiel
ds and suits of armor. The room was a maze, cluttered with oddly positioned bookshelves and precariously hanging items. Sam followed Mr. Sparks as they carefully navigated the room, being careful not to touch or knock anything over. They stepped over multiple trap doors, squeezed through narrow passageways, and finally reached their apparent destination. Mr. Sparks led Sam straight to a small shelf, and on that shelf was a golden box. He carefully removed the box from the shelf, and then handed it to Sam.
“Open this box very cautiously,” he said. Sam’s hands began to tremble as he gently removed the lid of the box. His heart began palpitating and his palms got sweatier and sweatier. Sam was afraid of dropping the box or whatever was inside it. He had already almost burned the classroom down; he didn’t want to break any more of Mr. Sparks’ belongings. He eased the lid of the box off, and placed the top back on the shelf. He peered into the box and saw a collection of gray rocks. The rocks appeared to be ordinary, but Sam did not dare touch them out of fear that they too would scald him.
“Pick up the rocks,” said Mr. Sparks kindly. Sam gulped, and reached out toward the rocks. He picked up one of them and was surprised when nothing happened. “Those are dragon stones,” said Mr. Sparks. “Dragon Transmalians use them to harness certain powers and to learn how to use new ones. For a person like you, this is extremely helpful.” Sam felt the smooth rock in his hand, and examined it closely. It seemed to be an ordinary rock from afar, but when he looked at it in detail, he saw that it had small wave-like grooves. He pressed his thumb against the middle of the rock, and the rock slowly began to turn white. “Is this supposed to happen?” asked Sam. “No, I’ve never seen this type of stone react to touch before,” said Mr. Sparks in disbelief. “We need to research this further. I think for the next few classes you should do some experimenting of your own and try to learn about the stone.”
Mr. Sparks then led Sam out of the cluttered little room, and as they navigated their way out, Sam took note of the different things that were in the room. Oddly shaped teeth, multi-colored scales, and queer specimen jars were placed on the different shelves. As they stepped out, Mr. Sparks waved his hand around in the empty doorway and the orange liquid moved back into a door-like shape and hardened. The door maintained the same appearance as it had when Sam first saw it. “How did you do that?” he asked Mr. Sparks. “The door melts and reforms when a dragon Transmalian touches it,” said Mr. Sparks. “That’s how we are able to enter and exit this room safely while ensuring that no unwanted visitors get their hands on the treasures within it.”
To Sam, what Mr. Sparks said did make some sense, but it also raised some questions. He wondered what these supposed “treasures” were, and how valuable they were. But, that wasn’t of any concern to him right now. He had to focus on his research and find out about the dragon stone.
Sam was quite interested in this mysterious object, wondering how to find out why it reacted to him the way it did. Mr. Sparks seemed to have read Sam’s mind, and said “You’ll have to look through all of our old textbooks and scrolls to research the stone.” He pointed to a bookshelf at the front of the classroom and ushered Sam toward it. “Start here,” he said while handing Sam a pile of dusty old books.
Sam staggered to the nearest desk and dropped the pile of books on it, making a loud thud. He began sifting through the material, squinting to examine the almost unreadable text that was printed all over the ancient pages. Mr. Sparks saw that Sam was having a hard time, and handed him a magnifying glass. “Thanks,” said Sam wearily. He held the magnifying glass against the pages and began to read tirelessly. The first few pages of the book were about the history of dragon stones, where they were found and the first person who found them. The information flew through Sam’s mind and disappeared. He scanned the pages one after the other, getting more and more frustrated as he dug deeper into the history of the dragon stone. Sam was about to fall asleep, but the bell rang, leading him to his next class.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Mr. Sparks. “I’m expecting that you continue your research on this item and the many others that I will be giving you.” Sam nodded his head and said, “Of course, sir.” Mr. Sparks gave Sam a pat on the back and then said, “I understand how hard this must be for you, being the only dragon Transmalian. There are just so many things that we need to discover and learn about. It’s been a long time since I’ve even gone over this material.” Sam wanted to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. He just stood, speechless. Mr. Sparks smiled warmly and then said, “Move along to your next class now. We’ll talk more later.”
STRIKE
Sam wearily proceeded to his second class, dragon battle. At the door, he met a short, scrawny man, Mr. Brunes. Based on his appearance, Mr. Brunes did not seem like a teacher who would be able to fight, let alone teach students how to properly fight. Sam looked around the classroom, noticing that he was yet again the only student. This classroom was dome shaped, and more spacious than the Dragonology classroom, having no desks or shelves. The whole classroom was covered in soft gray padding, with the exception of the ceiling. The ceiling was covered in pictures, posters, and papers of all sorts. Sam couldn’t make out any of the writing on these papers, but he was able to recognize and understand a few of the symbols that were on the posters. There were pictures of majestic dragons, spirals of fire, and jewel-encrusted swords. Sam’s eyes feasted on the vibrant and colorful sights that were displayed on the ceiling. He was abruptly interrupted by Mr. Brunes, whose booming voice shattered his eardrums.
“Welcome to my class!” he bellowed with excitement. “I see you’ve discovered the dragon board,” he said, referencing the cluttered ceiling. “You will learn more about our sacred board in a few moments. But first, I need to learn a bit more about you, Sam.”
He chuckled and then said, “Tell me more about yourself, how you came here, how you discovered your powers. Then only I will be able to properly teach you.” Sam, acting cleverly, was quick to answer, and said, “There isn’t much to say, but I will tell you everything if you tell me about yourself.” He needed to find out more about the teachers at the school; maybe they would be able to help him and Alana. Mr. Brunes seemed like the perfect person to start with.
Mr. Brunes chuckled, then said, “Of course, but first I’d like to hear about you.” Sam didn’t know where to start. He was quite confused about his powers and never really recalled using them in the past. “Well,” said Sam, “my parents were kidnapped, and then my sister and I were taken to this school. Until a few days ago, I didn’t know about the school, or what a Transmalian was. I have never used my powers, or ever seen my powers in action before.”
Mr. Brunes seemed surprised to hear this. “So you’ve never used your powers, and they’ve never shown themselves before?” Sam nodded his head in response, noticing that Mr. Brunes was becoming more and more concerned.
“You know what that means, don’t you?” he asked Sam. “No, I don’t,” said Sam nervously. “That means that I will have to teach you the basics, all the way from the beginning. It also means that you will have to put in a lot of hard work and effort.”
Sam groaned. The last thing he wanted was to work any harder than he had already been. As it was, waking up and sleeping at odd hours were big enough challenges for him. “I will try my best,” he said wearily. “Good,” said Mr. Brunes. “I need a lot of commitment from you if you want to learn quickly and efficiently.” He then began showing Sam around the room. He started by pointing to the soft gray padding that lined the room. “What you are looking at is not ordinary gray padding.” He led Sam closer to one of the walls, and punched a padding tile. It immediately popped open, and a small door was hidden behind it.
Mr. Brunes turned the knob on the door, and when it opened, it revealed a row of magnificent swords. Sam looked closer at the intricate equipment that was displayed inside the door. He noted that the swords appeared to be made out of gold, and others were deep, vibrant, and red, as if they wer
e carved from fire. “We have trap doors behind each and every single piece of padding, for safety and storage purposes,” he said. “As you can probably tell, the padding is used to prevent injury during fighting, and this whole circle right here. . .” He moved his arms in a circular motion.“...is the fighting area.”
He gave Sam a few moments to look around the room, and then began talking again. “We store a large variety of our fighting equipment behind the padding because we have no other place to store it.” “But if you hit yourself on the padding, won’t it hurt?” Sam interjected. Mr. Brunes let out a small chuckle, then said, “Of course not. The padding is extremely soft and you won’t be able to feel anything that is on the other side.”
Sam let out a sigh of relief. As it was, he was terrified of fighting, but the fact that swords and other weapons were on the other side of his safeguard made him a bit more uneasy. Mr. Brunes’ words offered him a small source of comfort, and even though he was skeptical, he chose to believe what his teacher had said. “Anyways,” said Mr. Brunes, attempting to continue the earlier conversation, “now that I have finished showing you the secret equipment storage area, we can move on to the dragon board.”
He led Sam back to the middle of the room and pointed to the ceiling. “What do you see when you look at the board?” he asked. Sam stared at the board for a few moments, trying to analyze what he was seeing. He wasn’t truly able to understand or comprehend what he was looking at, but he decided to give it a shot anyway, and then said, “I see pictures, writings, and cut-outs of different types of dragons.”
The Transmalians Page 4