The Academy Volume One

by Maxine Mansfield

  Not that she’d slept much the night before anyway. But then, how could she with finals looming over her head?

  Finally giving up, she turned to Uthiel. “What room does this say the Healing finals are in again?”

  He pointed to the second entry on the list. “Room 520, Briar. You need to relax, my lady, please. It’s going to be fine, you’ll see.”

  Briar sighed, “I can’t believe I’m still so nervous. I’m glad you’ll be there with me, Uthiel. I don’t think I could get through it without you.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for anything, my lady.” He crossed his heart and smiled.

  Briar had never been on this floor before, let alone in this long and winding hallway. The walls were a warm buttercream color, and the carpet below her feet a rich walnut. Soft, lilting music flooded her senses and, like a drug, filled her with serenity and contentment, calming for the moment her frayed nerves.

  Other students walked to and fro. Doors opened and closed. Sounds came and went.

  Each door was plainly marked. 502, Mystic finals. 504, Enchanter finals. 506, Sorcerer finals. 508, Warrior finals. 510, Blademaster finals.

  They hesitated in front of Room 512, Knights of the Realm finals. Uthiel grinned, “My written test isn’t for another four turns of the hourglass, but the real challenge will be tonight in the arena. I always enjoy crossing blades with masters.”

  Briar shivered. “I wish I had your confidence. I hope I do well. This is so very important to me. Alchemia and I studied all evening and half the night. I still don’t feel anywhere near prepared.”

  Uthiel placed an arm about her shoulder and squeezed. “I have confidence enough in you for the both of us.”

  “I hope so,” Briar nodded and continued down the hall. 514, Rogue and Ranger finals. 516, Wizard finals. 518, Minstrel and Bard finals. Finally, they stood before the door to Room 520.

  With a deep breath, Briar reached for the doorknob. “I can do this, right?”

  Uthiel took hold of the knob and turned it for her. “You have nothing to fear, my lady. I’ll be with you every step of the way. You’re an amazing woman and healer, Briar. Remember that.”

  With a nod and a smile, Briar entered.

  “Ah, Miss Tumbleweed, late as usual, I see. Hurry and come draw the name of your partner and get in line. Don’t want to keep everyone waiting, now do we?”

  Briar stared at Mr. Chamman as if he were speaking another language. Draw the name of her partner? Uthiel was her partner.

  “Miss Tumbleweed, did you hear me?”

  Briar shook her head. “Umm, yes, Mr. Chamman, I don’t need to draw a name for my partner. I have my partner with me.”

  The teacher shook his head. “You misunderstand, young woman. Mr. Stoutheart was your partner for class, but he’s a paladin, so Healing class, though useful toward his degree, is credit/no credit. He doesn’t do this final.”

  For the first time since entering the room, Briar was aware people were staring at her, waiting. Along with Mr. Chamman, her other instructors were present. Mr. Neoseraph for Spirits and Spells, Ms. Leguvane for Potions, Mr. Genolas for Bandaging 101, and even Headmistress Seychelle. And none of them looked happy.

  It was Uthiel, however, who spoke next.

  “It’s my wish to be her partner, Mr. Chamman. It doesn’t matter to me that I’m not required to take the final. Briar is comfortable working with me.”

  Headmistress Seychelle stood. “That will not do. Miss Tumbleweed must complete her final with whomever she draws. Not you, Mr. Stoutheart. Part of the final exam itself is to show a willingness to heal anyone who needs it, not just those you choose. Now do sit down and refrain from interrupting, or you’ll be asked to leave.”

  Her eyes locking with Uthiel’s, Briar clung to his hesitant smile of encouragement and the slight nod of his head.

  He grasped her hand. “Go, my lady, you can do this. I’ll be right here cheering you on.”

  Tentatively, she turned and slid her hand into the container Mr. Chamman held out. Briar’s palm was sweating as she grasped a slip of paper. Handing it to Mr. Chamman, she forced herself to relax and breathe.

  Mr. Chamman smiled. “Fine choice, Miss Tumbleweed. Enchanter Sabin, come forth, please.”

  Briar watched a tall, handsome, middle-aged dark-elf with indigo skin, sparkling red eyes, and spun-silver hair make his way to the front of the room. He stopped directly in front of her and took her hand. Bending, he brought it to his lips and gently kissed it. Mischief twinkled in his eyes when he looked up and winked.

  Placing a hand over his heart, Sabin’s voice flowed like warm honey. “It is a great pleasure and privilege to be of assistance to you this fine day, dear lady. I await your tender ministrations.”

  Briar’s gaze flew to Uthiel. His entire countenance was tense, and he wasn’t smiling now. She could see his white knuckles as they held the sides of his seat, as if forcing himself to remain in place.

  She almost welcomed the sound of Mr. Chamman’s voice, drawing her attention away, forcing her to concentrate on something, anything, but Uthiel.

  “Here’s a list of Mr. Sabin’s maladies and what potions, spells, and bandages we wish you to use. Then, of course, we expect you to show us your technique for healing a soul. You have five minutes to interview your subject and then we will begin.”

  Taking their place in line, Briar turned toward Sabin. “I’m not sure what to ask.”

  The enchanter smiled, placed a fatherly hand on Briar’s shoulder and pointed to the paper she was holding. “Perhaps you should first read what maladies they have assigned to me. Trust me when I tell you I’m in perfect health, but for today, I have all manner of ills.”

  Leaning in and whispering conspiratorially, Sabin continued, “I understand you get extra credit if you uncover what ails my soul. I’ll give you a clue. They told me I’m to say that I’m in love with a high-elf and her family refuses to accept me because of my dark-elf heritage.”

  The enchanter tipped up a potion and drank it. Briar watched in fascination as he immediately took on the appearance of a blond-haired, blue-eyed, alabaster-skinned high-elf.

  With a sigh and a wink, Sabin shook his head and struck a dramatic pose. “Is there no end to what a man will sacrifice for love?”

  Briar smiled at his antics. “Thank you for making this easier for me, Enchanter Sabin.”

  Glancing at Uthiel, Briar’s confidence rose a notch. Though perhaps his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and perhaps it did look more like a grimace than a smile, it was at least in place. She watched as he pried his fingers loose from the edge of the chair and gave her the thumbs-up sign.

  Briar’s heart soared. She could do this. She knew she could. As long as she had Uthiel in her corner, there was nothing she couldn’t do.

  She read and re-read the list twice. She closed her eyes and in her mind went over the required potions and incantations. Her hands worked the motions of bandaging. She opened her eyes, smiled at Enchanter Sabin, and took a deep breath.

  Briarlarn Tumbleweed was ready.

  ****

  Uthiel didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until dizziness washed over him a moment before Mr. Neoseraph opened his mouth to begin Briar’s exam. He forced himself to breath in and out through his nose, unclench his fists, and relax.

  “Miss Tumbleweed, what spell or incantation would you use on your patient to calm his nerves and make him more receptive to your attempt to heal his soul?”

  Uthiel was proud as Briar didn’t hesitate even the dropping of a grain of sand before she responded.

  “I would start with the lowest level seduction incantation there is and work my way up until he’s sufficiently ready for my ministrations.”

  Briar raised her wand and pointed it at Enchanter Sabin. “Candle light and star dust, music and wine, what was once your will, now is mine.”

  Though her back was to him and he couldn’t see her face, Uthiel relaxed a little more as he liste
ned to this very confident Briar.

  Mr. Neoseraph applauded. “Very good, Miss Tumbleweed. You are the first student of the day to actually start at the beginning and not try to rush to the higher level incantations. But I’m afraid Enchanter Sabin isn’t so easily seduced, so what spell would you now try?”

  She twisted ever so slightly and glanced over her shoulder at Uthiel. Even though his mind was screaming for him not to, he forced himself to nod and smile, hoping she knew that at least his heart was in her corner.

  Briar faced her instructor once more, and her voice rang loud and clear, “I would use a mind manipulation spell, Sir, such as Boiling Blood.”

  Mr. Neoseraph nodded and Briar extracted various granules of brightly colored minerals from her pouch, sprinkled them directly on Sabin, then chanted.

  “Pounding pulses, when will you learn? Breathing hard, now it’s your turn. Blood is boiling, what will you earn? Passions are rising, now you will burn.”

  Uthiel didn’t care for the way Enchanter Sabin looked at Briar. The man’s eyes gleamed, and he licked his lips in obvious anticipation.

  He wanted to race over and smash Briar’s partner’s face in. Why, the dirty old enchanter was even putting his filthy hands on Briar and stroking her arm. Didn’t he realize this was simply a demonstration? Or perhaps he didn’t care.

  Briar glanced back at him once more, and though he couldn’t force himself to let go of the death grip he again had on the arms of his chair, Uthiel did manage to give her a small smile.

  Next was Ms. Leguvane’s turn.

  “Briar, please tell this panel the ingredients, in order, needed to deliver a minor, major, and complete heal.”

  Uthiel took one big calming breath and then another as Briar nonchalantly rattled off a list of things―mugwort, spider silk, drops of blood, and such. He relaxed even more when Ms. Leguvane clapped.

  “Excellent, Briar, simply excellent. You never cease to amaze me.”

  A sudden commotion caught his attention. Uthiel gaped at the sight. The entire area was now standing-room only. Students―even those not in a healing class―lined the back wall, and, from the way they pointed and whispered, there was no doubt in his mind why they’d come.

  Somehow the word had gotten out. Briar was not only acing her final, but doing it in true Briar fashion―with a large audience.

  Her bandaging instructor, Shadow Knight Genolas, took over next. He wasn’t as warm and fuzzy by any stretch of the imagination as Ms. Leguvane.

  “Well, Miss Tumbleweed, let’s see if you can bandage as well as you can cast spells. From what I’ve seen from you so far this semester, I doubt it. Show me the bandage needed to staunch the flow of emotions from a soul.”

  Uthiel grinned. He could tell from her calm stance, Briar wasn’t the least bit fazed by anything this instructor said.

  Gauze, tape, and ointments became a blur. His smile widened. Uthiel would’ve never guessed such small, delicate fingers as Briar’s could do such arduous work or tie such strong knots. It was astonishing. She was astonishing.

  The look on Shadow Knight Genolas’s face made the whole morning worthwhile to Uthiel, and the instructor’s grudging “Well done, Miss Tumbleweed” made his whole day.

  Mr. Chamman jotted a note on the pad before him, rearranged his papers, and glanced at Briar. “All right, Miss Tumbleweed, you have only one thing left to do. Be so kind as to explain what ails this patient, and demonstrate the healing of a soul act for us.”

  Uthiel made the mistake of looking down at Enchanter Sabin. The man was already lying stark-assed naked on the floor, his rock-hard cock standing at attention. He leered up at Briar and licked his lips. Uthiel wanted to beat him, to take his sword and run him through.

  Briar glanced back, and Uthiel gulped. Her eyes pleaded with him for acceptance and encouragement. He wanted to give them to her, knew she needed them, probably couldn’t even go on without his capitulation, but all he could manage was to return her stare.

  For the first time since beginning the final exam, Briar’s voice wavered.

  “His…his problem is prejudice. The family of the woman he loves refuses to accept him because he is a dark-elf, and they are not. He uses a potion to make them see him not as he really is, but as they wish him to be. It…it has scarred his soul.”

  Mr. Chamman nodded, “And how would you go about healing his soul?”

  Briar glanced again at Uthiel. If he’d wanted to cheer her on, all he’d have to do was give her a smile, a wink maybe, or a thumbs up. He didn’t, though. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He watched helplessly as a single tear made its way down Briar’s cheek.

  She faced the panel of instructors, her voice no more than a whisper. “I would take the subject inside myself.”

  Time stretched on. Finally, Mr. Chamman nodded, “Proceed.”

  Briar’s gaze briefly met his before he couldn’t help himself and looked away.

  When Briar spoke this time, it was no whisper. Her voice rang throughout the room. “I can’t do that.”

  Pandemonium erupted.

  Headmistress Seychelle jumped up and grabbed Briar’s arm. “Don’t be ridiculous! Be a professional. Stop wasting our time and do what needs to be done. We still have an entire room full of students to get through.”

  Uthiel also jumped to his feet, then tripped more than once as he hustled past and over other students on his way to Briar.

  Mr. Chamman gripped Headmistress Seychelle’s arm and struggled to pry loose her hold on Briar. He was unsuccessful, however, and settled for yelling for everyone to calm down.

  The room quieted, and Uthiel froze midstep, afraid that if he continued toward Briar and actually touched her, the situation would only worsen.

  Mr. Chamman addressed Briar with a look that was almost fatherly, “Don’t listen to Seychelle. Take all the time you need, Miss Tumbleweed.”

  Ray chose that moment to jump up. “Ray loves cock. Ray loves cock! Ray loves cock!” He tugged at Briar’s tunic and dropped his knobby orange dildo at her feet.

  Oh VoT!

  Tiny white sparks of energy Uthiel was more familiar with than he wished shot from the tips of Briar’s fingers.

  “No!” he yelled, as he lunged toward her.

  Enchanter Sabin lounged provocatively on the floor, grinning up at Briar. He yanked at her free arm. “Come on, lass, it isn’t as if this is something new to you. Be a good girl and do what the Headmistress says. You know, be a professional and all that.” He twitched his nose. “Come on down here and heal daddy’s soul, sugar.”

  The enchanter licked his lips, wiggled his eyebrows, grinned lecherously, and tugged on her arm. Briar fought valiantly to pull away, but trapped between Sabin and Seychelle, she couldn’t get loose.

  With two more steps, Uthiel closed the distance between them and caught Briar by her waist a moment before she would’ve landed on top of the naked enchanter and his thrusting cock.

  When the explosion happened, Uthiel did the only thing he could.

  He pulled Briar in close and shielded her with his own body as he covered his face―especially his still stubby eyebrows―with his other hand.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sarco sat beside Uthiel in the arena bleachers, staring at the soot and grime covering his friend’s face. He didn’t know what else to do, so he placed a compassionate arm about Uthiel’s slumped shoulders.

  In the entire nineteen years since they’d become fast friends at the tender age of six, only after Deleny’s death had Sarco seen such desolation in Uthiel’s eyes. Despite that, Uthiel had sailed through his final tonight. The man had nerves of steel.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Uthiel looked off into the distance. “Not much to talk about, really.”

  As usual, it didn’t take long for Uthiel to start talking. Sarco sat back to do what a best friend’s job is—to simply listen.

  “You should’ve seen her, Sarco. Briar was beyond brilliant. Her talent is trul
y something to behold. It was like watching a lesson in magic. Her memory for detail is mind-boggling. Did you hear about her brand-new, never-before-seen potion?”

  Sarco nodded, not surprised at the pride in Uthiel’s words. After all, even if Uthiel himself didn’t yet realize he was in love with Briarlarn Tumbleweed, Sarco certainly did.

  Uthiel’s voice wavered. “I’m…I’m a piss poor excuse of a man, my friend.”

  Sarco shook his head, knowing he could do nothing but watch as his friend gulped in deep breaths. Pain and grief shadowed the paladin’s eyes.

  Uthiel jumped to his feet. “I considered myself to be better.” He balled his fists, and paced. Sarco waited, knowing there was more to come.

  “I let her down, Sarco. God Draka, how I let her down. She looked to me for strength and I failed her. I knew she’d have a hard time touching another man. To be honest, I counted on it. I know how she feels about me, and even if she hasn’t said it in so many words, she’s shown it many times. I should’ve encouraged her to do what needed to be done. Vot, I should’ve cheered her on.”

  Uthiel slammed his fist into his other hand. He glared at Sarco. “But no, not me. It was all I could do to keep from running my sword through that dirty old dark-elf enchanter.”

  Uthiel slid his fingers through his hair, frustration evident on his troubled face.

  “Not only did Briar fail her final, but she did it in history-making fashion. I’m surprised The Academy is still standing. At least they told her she can retake the Healing the Soul portion of the final when the next semester starts, since she was flawless on all the other parts. VoT, it’ll take until autumn just to repair the damage done to the room.”

  Uthiel chuckled but somehow it didn’t quite sound mirthful. “Though I do believe it will take longer than that before Headmistress Seychelle and the rest of Briar’s instructors are back to normal, and who knows if Ray will ever be seen again.”

  A real smile graced his face for a moment before his eyes clouded over once more and his body shuddered.

  If I can only get him to see the humor in this. “Well, perhaps in the case of Ray, she did us all a favor,” he chuckled, although his attempt to lighten the mood fell on deaf ears.