The Academy's Call

by Caden Nantes

  Miles pressed his lips together, and turned away.

  "Take him to the dungeons for attempted theft, and the other one for trespassing," he stopped, cocking his head to the side. "Actually, shoot the one on the rooftop,"

  "No! How could you?" Screamed Aeyn, his blue eyes almost glowing with rage. Or were they actually glowing? A sharp pain pierced Sylin's shoulder, and he cried out, falling off the rooftop. Somehow, he managed to right himself in time, landing in a crouch. He winced and fell to his knees as pain lanced through his body. He drew a throwing knife and threw it toward his attacker, not looking to see where it landed as blackness engulfed him.

  Chapter Five

  My Friend Is a Sorcerer. I Like Fire.

  Aeyn gasped as Sylin plummeted toward the ground, an arrow stuck in his shoulder. Miraculously, he was able to crouch with the impact and throw a knife, which buried itself in the guard's thigh. Aeyn's anger turned to outrage, and he twisted, causing the guard holding him to tumble to the floor. Then he roared. It wasn't a human sound. No, it was far from human. It was the sound of a dragon. It reverberated throughout the city, causing people to drop to their knees and cover their ears mid-walk as Aeyn watched. The roar fueled his inner fire, and he snapped the ropes holding his wrists together. He closed his mouth, and the roar stopped. Aeyn blinked, surprised to see a terrified guard holding a longbow in quivering hands. His lip curled. That must be the guard who attacked Sylin! Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came from his right, and Aeyn turned toward Sylin.

  A guard was striding toward his friend, a grim look on his face. Aeyn snarled and leapt in front of Sylin. In moments, the city guards joined that of the Smith Manor's. One guard, dressed in blue with gold streaks on his shoulders, stepped forward.

  "Stand down. You are under arrest for attempted thievery." He turned toward Sylin. "And he is under arrest for trespassing and theft,"

  Aeyn narrowed his eyes. "Come a step closer, and you'll regret it,"

  The captain of the guard nodded to his men, and they stepped forward, swords pointed at Aeyn. He roared once again, and then something happened. Something he'll never forget. Intense heat blasted out from him, and his roar grew louder, stronger, until smoke streamed out of his mouth. Guards were thrown against buildings, horses, and carriages. Immediately, a tingling feeling coursed through his lower back. It was joined by a sharp pain, which stopped a split-second later, although he could still feel something on his back. Something that hadn't been there before. It was as if it had been laying in wait under his skin, waiting for it's chance to emerge, it's chance to change Aeyn forever. Aeyn finished his roar, and shook his head. Why are such strange thoughts invading my head? He turned toward Anthony, who was staring at him with equal parts terror and awe on his face.

  "Get Squire," snapped Aeyn. Anthony scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide as he ran into the stables.

  "Get my father's horse as well!" Aeyn shouted after him.

  Anthony emerged soon afterward leading Squire and a black stallion by the reigns. Aeyn draped Sylin's body across the black horse, and told Anthony to get him some rope. Moments later, the boy placed some in Aeyn's open palm. Aeyn strapped Sylin's wrists and ankles to the horse, and then mounted Squire.

  "Anthony, you can't very well stay here, so get on Shadow." Aeyn gestured toward his father's horse. The boy nodded, his face filled with both fear and determination as he mounted the horse.

  Aeyn snapped the reigns, and the horse lurched into motion. "Eeyah!" He shouted as he snapped the reigns again, causing the horse to transition into a full gallop. Wind whistled through Aeyn's ears as he pushed his horse to go faster and faster. Stunned faces looked up at him, but he hardly noticed and he expertly maneuvered his horse around horse-drawn wagons and people. The southern gate came into view as he rounded a corner and a voice shouted,

  "Close the gates!"

  Metal scraped against metal as the heavy iron gates slowly started to descend. Sweat dribbled down the side of Aeyn's face as he urged Squire to go faster.

  "Come on, come on!"

  He ducked as he passed under the gate, the heavy iron slamming closed behind him. He twisted in the saddle, relieved to see Shadow and his passengers just behind him. His relief vanished as a voice shouted,

  "Fire!"

  Arrows whizzed by them, one narrowly missing Aeyn's ear. Eyes wide and panting for breath even though his horse was doing the running, he knew they were doomed.

  "No, stop!" Aeyn's head lifted slightly at the sound of his father's voice. "Let them go,"

  The shouts faded behind them as the horses ate up the distance. Aeyn sighed. Why would his father try to put him in the dungeons? And order his guards to shoot Sylin? And what had just happened back there? He hung his head as they rode on in silence. Eventually, Sylin cleared his throat.

  "We should turn east,"

  Aeyn raised his head. "What?" He said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

  "We need to start heading east if we're going to Denvil,"

  Aeyn blinked. He'd completely forgotten about the Academy. He nodded slightly, and they changed their course.

  They continued on at a fast trot for most of the day, but Aeyn hardly noticed. He was deep into his reverie when Sylin broke the silence once again.

  "The horses are getting tired, and the sun is setting. We should set up camp and get some rest,"

  Aeyn grunted in response, and began searching for a suitable place to spend the night. He nodded toward a clearing in the short yellow grass of the plains they'd been riding through.

  "Let's try there,"

  They stopped and tied the horses to a lonely tree. Aeyn set up three bedrolls, and slipped into his.

  "Aren't you going to eat and take off your armor?"

  Aeyn frowned. Had he been so deep into his reverie he'd forgotten to take off his swords and armor? He slipped back out of his bedroll, and accepted a few dried rations Sylin handed to him. He gnawed on them for a few moments with Anthony beside him before his foggy mind realized something. He stared at Sylin, who showed no trace of the arrow wound.

  "You were unconscious and tied to the horse with a nasty shoulder wound," he stated matter-of-factly.

  Sylin smirked. "So you've finally noticed,"

  Aeyn pursed his lips. "I've had other things to think about,"

  Sylin's smirk fell away. "I know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you love,"

  Aeyn shook his head. "Anyway, answer the question. How did you heal yourself?"

  Sylin sighed, and looked at Aeyn. "I might as well tell you. My mother was an elven sorceress,"

  Aeyn's mouth dropped open. "You're part elven?" He brushed the jet-black hair covering his friend's ear away, and his eyes went wide at what he saw. Pointed ear tips. "So it's true," he murmured.

  Sylin nodded. "Yes. I have knowledge of potions, and I bought a couple before we left. It was a hefty price, yes, but worth it,"

  Anthony bobbed his head enthusiastically. "Yeah. I saw him wake, so I cut his ropes. He put some sort of potion on his wounds, and within moments, they were healed,"

  Aeyn unclipped his sword belt, and tossed it aside next to his pack. He chuckled at the thought that he'd tried to go to sleep with his pack, swords, and armor still on. He stared at the two scabbards he took from his back. He recalled Garun teaching him the basics of swordsmanship. Hopefully I can gain a bit more knowledge at the Academy. Setting the swords down and pulling off his cuirass, he wondered what he'd find there. He pulled off his boots and gauntlets, and after a moment's consideration, ripped off his sweaty tunic too.

  Anthony gasped. "What is that?"

  Aeyn frowned, twisting to look at him. "What's what?"

  The boy pointed to Aeyn's back. "That,"

  Aeyn twisted further, and his eyes widened at what he saw. There, on his lower back, were scales.

  ∆∆∆

  Aeyn's hand again drifted to his lower back, and the blue scales that resided there. His head still spun at the reality of
it all. My friend is a part-elven sorcerer, and I'm... well, he didn't really know what he was. He rocked slightly in the saddle, yet his backside still didn't ache from three days of constant riding. He'd been riding since he was only eight summers old, although Sylin was a different story.

  "Why do these saddles have to be so darned stiff?" He moaned.

  Aeyn chuckled. "Your horse is probably wondering the same thing,"

  Sylin grunted. "More like he's wondering why there's two people riding on him, not one like there usually is,"

  "Bah! You two are lighter than my head!"

  Anthony frowned. "Hey! He might be, but I'm not,"

  Aeyn eyed the boy's thin frame and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as the Zenpheir Meadows came into view. Plains of barren earth and yellow grass gave way to huge fields of green shoots and white daisies. Bright yellow sunlight streamed down across the meadow, illuminating it such that it seemed as if a someone from the Painter's Guild had inked it. A cool breeze countered the scorching heat of the sun, making Aeyn sag in relief. Riding through the Sarinian Plains in the summer made one relish the coolness of the meadows even more.

  Without warning, Aeyn snapped the reigns, causing Squire to lurch into a gallop. A startled rabbit hopped across their path, it's little white tail bobbing up and down before it disappeared into the long grass beside the dirt road. The wind whipped across his face, pushing his hair back behind his shoulders and bringing tears to his eyes. He blinked them away, relishing the moment of freedom.

  Another set of hooves clomped down the road beside Squire and Aeyn, who turned in the saddle to look at Sylin and Anthony. The former stable hand waved and whispered something in Sylin's ear. The thief nodded and urged his horse to go faster. The stallion's mane billowed in the wind as he lurched forward ahead of Squire. Aeyn smirked at Sylin and urged his own steed forward. He was just starting to gain on the thief when Squire stumbled and tripped over his own hooves. He careened into the ground, sending Aeyn flying head-over-heels. Hard dirt greeted him as he slammed face-first into the ground. His head spun as he looked up at the blurred figure standing before him. The last thing he saw before blackness took him was the pointed ear tips.

  Chapter Six

  Elves, Blood, and Dragons

  As soon as the arrow hit Squire's hoof, Sylin knew what was happening. Cursing himself for not bringing a short bow, he slowed the horse to a fast walk and picked a long stick off the ground. An arrow whizzed toward him, and he deftly cut it out of the air with his dagger. He caught the sharp end and used a length of rope to attach it to the stick.

  "Hold this," he said as he shoved the spear into Anthony's arms. "And don't hesitate to use it,"

  Not waiting for the boy's response, he drew another throwing dagger as soon as he saw their assailants. Elves, looking to expand their territory beyond the Sheirwood Forest no doubt. The elf was crouched down in the long grass, nocking another arrow on his longbow. More elves dressed in green garb appeared out of the grass. Panic struck, and Sylin chucked a throwing knife at the closest elf. It struck his shoulder, and he cried out, dropping his bow to clutch at the wound.

  Anthony's spear glanced off another elf's skull, leaving hardly more than a small gash as it disappeared into the long grass. The elf shook his head, dropping his longbow as he looked up at Anthony. His face clouded over, and he barked something in elven to the other elves. They all nodded, dropping their bows in exchange for spears as they closed in.

  Sylin was about to snap the reigns and gallop through them when he saw Aeyn, unconscious with his face in the dirt. Sylin shook his head. Oh, the things I do for that audacious spirit. He leapt off his horse, gesturing for Anthony to follow. As bowstrings stretched taut, he slapped Shadow's hindquarters, sending him barreling through the ranks of elves. One's arrow grazed the steed's hind leg, earning the unfortunate elf a kick in the chest.

  The elves turned toward Sylin as one, pointing and muttering angrily. The thief stood over Aeyn, and shouted in his best elven,

  "Do not hurt us! I am one of you, and I doubt your leader would be happy to find you've harmed one of your own,"

  This caused a bit less angry muttering, and more confused murmuring. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. One elf strode toward Sylin, yanking his hair back behind his ears to reveal the partially-pointed ear tips. The elf snarled and slapped Sylin hard across the face.

  "One of us? Certainly not, halfbreed!"

  Sylin's face heated at the word 'halfbreed', and he let loose his anger in the form of magic. It burst outward from him, slamming into the elf and sending him flying high into the air and over a distant hill. The thief's head swam, and he fell back. He slipped in and out of consciousness as his captors shackled him and Anthony.

  Something sharp prodded his back, and he staggered forward, noticing two elves dragging Aeyn along beside Anthony. Again, the blackness receded, and he found himself on his knees before an old elf. He tipped his head back and poured a vial down his throat. Instantly, his eyes snapped wide open and the blackness was replaced by elves all crowding around him. He coughed and sat up, groaning as he realized his ankles were still shackled. The old elf approached him and spoke,

  "We will take you and your friends to the head Clansman, where you will plead for your life,"

  "We did nothing," Sylin croaked out weakly, the potion still taking effect. "The elves attacked us!"

  He shook his head. "Save it for the head Clansman,"

  Sylin was dragged to his feet and marched toward an open doorway beside Anthony. He paid no mind to his surroundings, his mind on what he would say to the elf leader. Suddenly he was pushed to his knees in front of a mid-aged elf wearing fancy blue and green garb.

  The elf looked down at him disinterestedly and asked,

  "Charges?"

  "Trespassing and fatally injuring multiple elves,"

  Sylin opened his mouth to object, but was interrupted by the head Clansman,

  "Take them to the Pit. And make them very uncomfortable. I do not like it when my elves die,"

  "I didn't-" started Sylin, but he was cut off by a hand clamping down on his mouth.

  The elves dragged them away, with Sylin hanging his head and closing his eyes in defeat. He was shaken out of his thoughts when a voice barked,

  "Climb down!"

  Sylin looked up, spotting a rope hanging down into a dark pit with straight drops on all sides. He gulped and started down the rope best he could with shackled arms and legs. Remembering Aeyn, he raised his eyes, seeing four elves rolling him down a slope into the pit that hadn't been there before.

  The thief's brow furrowed, and then he saw what had caused the slope. The same old elf who'd given him the potion raised his hand, causing the slope to turn back into a steep drop. Sylin sighed as he dropped down into the pitch-black at the bottom of the pit. Another form landed beside him, presumably Anthony. Sylin reached into his cloak for a dagger, but found he had none. The elves must have rid him of his weapons while he was unconscious.

  His eyes widened as he realized something. He patted himself all over, breathing out a sigh of relief when he found his jewel-hilted dagger resting on his belt. It slid out of its sheath silently, and Sylin stepped back in surprise as the jewel started to glow. There are many mysteries I have yet to uncover. Footsteps echoed through the pit as Anthony padded up to him. He looked at the dagger curiously, and then turned his inquisitive stare toward Sylin, who shrugged.

  "It was a gift from my mother. I suppose it has many secrets,"

  Anthony sighed. "Well, it won't do us much use now,"

  Sylin shook his head. "Nonsense. Now we have light, and we can check on Aeyn,"

  The boy perked up at the name of his former master, and he trotted down the dirt floor to look for him. Sylin followed with the dagger extended out in front of him. He bit his lip as he thought of what they might find. His worries were left behind as they came across a prone form.

  Aeyn's armor and weapons were gone, replaced
by a dirty tunic and a whole lot of scrapes and bruises. Sylin put his fingers to his friend's neck, stepping back when he felt a pulse. A deep frown marked his face as he wondered why Aeyn would be unconscious for so long. A sudden thought came to him as he rolled his friend's limp frame over. He used his dagger to carefully cut away his tunic, and gasped at what he saw. Shining sapphire scales covered the whole of Aeyn's lower back, and a few speckled his shoulders.

  Sylin stood and walked the length of the pit. Bones and tattered clothing were strewn about, until Sylin came across a huge skull. Horns decorated the head, but what was beside it was what Sylin was really interested in. A dull scale that might have once been blue lay beside a pile of others which were in even worse shape. He bent down and picked up the scale, gaping at the glowing blue blood on the underside. Judging by the shape of the skull, the scale must've been there for a century, perhaps longer.

  He thought back to a similar liquid he'd acquired at a potions shop back in Sarvin. The old lady who'd given it to him had put a note on it, inscribed with runes. She'd said he would need the potion and the note one day in the near future. His eyes widened and he reached under his cloak, hardly holding back a maniacal laugh as he withdrew a potion vial. The runes on the note glowed blue for a moment before crumbling into dust. It must've been some sort of invisibility spell, somehow set to activate at a certain time. Which means the old woman must've been a powerful seer. Sylin shook his head to clear it and marched back to Aeyn. He looked back down at the vial, frowning as he realized the note had left some sort of residue under it with the words, 'Dragon's Blood'.

  A grin spread across his face as turned Aeyn's prone form over, pouring half the vial down his throat and the other half on his scales.

  Anthony frowned at him. "What're you doing?"

  Sylin ignored him as he waited for the potion to take effect. Sure enough, blue scales rapidly spread across his friend's upper back and ribs. Stumps formed on his shoulders, and scales grew across his biceps. The stumps quickly turned into huge leathery wings, forcing Sylin to step back as Aeyn coughed and pushed himself to his feet, his arms now covered in scales and claws decorating his fingertips.