by Clayton Wood
Master Owens stopped sliding suddenly, flying straight up into the air. Ariana stopped backpedaling...then felt herself sliding backward uncontrollably in the wet grass. She turned around just in time to see herself being sucked into a gravity sphere – filled with a massive burning glob of punk. She cried out, creating a gravity sphere of her own in front of her to counteract the pull of Owens' sphere.
Her sphere winked out of existence.
Ariana flew backward into the flaming sphere, throwing her arms in front of her face and closing her eyes. She screamed as tongues of fire surrounded her, fighting the sudden terror that threatened to overwhelm her. The heat of the flames was unbearable, and she gagged at the awful stench of burning flesh assaulting her nostrils. She grit her teeth, steeling herself as she forcibly lowered her arms. She opened her eyes, seeing her gravity shields still up, the burning punk orbiting around her harmlessly. She blinked, realizing that she could feel no actual heat coming from the flames. She felt her shard weave, saw Owens' gravity sphere vanish, the burning punk falling to the ground. The heat, the smell of burning flesh...it had all been in her head.
Ariana grit her teeth, feeling anger grow in her breast. She hated fire...and Master Owens knew it.
She turned her gaze upward, ignoring the black smoke rising from the burning punk on the ground around her. She saw Master Owens hovering some twenty feet above her head, studying her silently. Even from here she could see that he was completely relaxed, his posture one of utter confidence.
She had the sudden urge to wipe the floor with him.
Ariana crouched low, then leapt upward, her powerful legs sending her high into the air toward him. With her shard protecting her, she knew that she only had to collide with him. The shard would neutralize any foreign gravity shield it got near, leaving Owens completely unprotected.
But as she neared him, she saw her shields vanishing one-by-one, felt herself lurch to the side by some unseen force, missing Owens by a wide margin. She cried out, feeling herself spinning uncontrollably in the air, the world a jumble of green and blue rotating madly before her. She flailed her limbs wildly, then felt her left hip strike the ground with a terrible crunch, a horrid pain shooting down her leg. Her shoulder struck next, followed by her head, and stars exploded before her eyes. She cried out, curling into the fetal position on the wet grass.
Light burst forth into her mind's eye, magic weaving ferociously of its own accord.
And then everything slowed.
The stars in her eyes vanished instantly, her vision clearing. She looked upward, seeing Master Owens' descending toward her, his face twisted in horror, one hand reaching out toward her. She saw his black robes rippling gracefully, light scattering off of the edges of his gravity shields. She saw a single drop of water fall from his left boot, and was mesmerized by the rainbow of colors dancing off of it as it fell slowly toward her.
She stared at that single drop, watching as it overtook Owens, accelerating toward the earth while her teacher slowed his descent. It struck a single blade of grass at her feet, bending it all the way to the ground, then bursting into countless smaller drops, the blade of grass rebounding mightily. She watched as that verdant blade sprang upward, vibrating with the memory of its collision.
She felt her shard reacting, power arcing in her forehead, that part of her mind's eye over which she had no control. It wove much more slowly than usual, so that she could almost follow the patterns it created. She saw the air around her shimmer, saw layer after layer of gravity shields come to life around her, pushing her a few inches off of the grass.
Still, her shard wove.
She saw Owens land on the grass before her, now only a few feet away, the gravity shields a fraction of an inch below his black boots slowly crushing the countless blades of grass below. His knees bent slightly with the impact, his robes billowing upward around him. She reached out, her hand moving far faster than everything around her, and cried out a warning just as her shard finished its patterns, thrusting knots of magic automatically toward Owens.
His shields vanished.
Ariana watched as a huge sphere appeared around her teacher, stared in horror as the sides began to press inward toward him. She saw his black robes collapse inward, the cloth crushing against his limbs and body. She saw his eyes roll backward in his head, watched him slump forward, unconscious...even as the sphere around him continued to shrink. The sides closed in on him slowly, pushing his arms against his flanks, forcing his shoulders forward and inward.
Still, the sphere contracted.
Ariana's eyes widened with horror, and she tried to get up, to push herself off of the ground, but her left hip was useless. She felt her shard start to weave again, and clawed at her forehead with her fingernails, feeling pain lance through her skull.
Still, the sphere contracted.
She saw Owens' left elbow get shoved deeper into his side, heard a snapping sound as the ribs cracked underneath.
No!
Owens head was shoved downward and forward as the top and bottom of the gravity field contracted, his neck arching severely under that relentless pressure. She heard another crack as his right elbow dug into his right flank.
No, no, no!
Still the now-oval field around Owens shrank, and all Ariana could do was watch as her teacher was slowly crushed to death.
“Master Owens!” she cried.
And then it was done.
Chapter 5
“Try again,” Lee ordered.
Kyle grimaced, stopping his magic stream to the cube he'd inscribed his first rune into. Or rather, his first attempt at a rune; he'd butchered the ring-shaped inscription at the beginning. It had to be a nearly perfect circle, not the squiggly mess that Kyle had managed. Streaming magic to the rune had resulted in nothing.
“It's hard,” he protested.
“Quit whining,” Lee scolded. “It'll be hard until it isn't.” She pulled another brown cube out of the air, smacking it down on the table in front of him. Kyle sighed, then grabbed the small cube, leaning over it until his forehead was nearly touching the top facet. He closed his eyes, weaving the inscribing pattern, then sending the pattern outward carefully into the cube. He streamed magic into the pattern, moving the pattern – and the stream – in a tight circle downward, then upward. He shot his stream straight down, then back up, and then stopped.
He opened his eyes, lifting his head and staring questioningly at Lee.
“Go on,” she ordered.
Kyle pushed the cube away from him, then streamed magic to it.
A massive jet of flame burst upward from the cube, its roar shattering the silence of the Archives. Kyle cried out, cutting his magic stream, and the flame slowly shrank, until it at petered out at last.
Kyle stared at Lee, then at the cube, swallowing in a dry throat. The once-brown cube was jet black.
“What did we learn?” Lee inquired, completely unfazed by Kyle's pyrotechnics.
“Uh,” Kyle stammered. “Stream less magic next time?” Lee shook her head.
“Your runes are too thick,” she corrected. “The thicker your wires, the easier it is for magic to flow through them. Thin wires resist magic flow.”
“Got it,” Kyle replied. It made sense; when he wove the fire pattern in his mind, the more magic he put into the pattern, the larger the flame. The more magic he streamed to it, the hotter the flame. It was, apparently, similar with runes.
“Again,” Lee commanded. She conjured another cube, tossing it onto the table with a clatter. Kyle grabbed it, placing it in front of him as before. He leaned over it, weaving the inscribing pattern again. This time, he put far less magic into the pattern, knowing that this would make for a thinner wire. He inscribed the fire rune as before, then leaned back, pushing the cube a bit farther away from himself than before. Lee smirked.
“Okay,” Kyle stated, rubbing his hands together. He streamed a small thread of magic to the cube. A tiny, wimpy excuse for a flame popped u
p a fraction of an inch from the cube's facet.
“Not bad,” Lee conceded. Kyle broke into a smile, stopping his magic stream; the flame continued to burn for a long time before being snuffed out, undoubtedly feeding off of the magic the crystal around the rune had managed to store. The first flame must have burned through that stored magic quickly, extinguishing itself much sooner.
“It's getting easier,” Kyle replied.
“I was talking about you figuring out to put less magic in the inscribing pattern, to make a thinner rune,” Lee explained. “At least you're capable of some thought.”
“Gee, thanks,” Kyle grumbled.
“Most students aren't,” Lee continued. “Usually have to hold their precious little hands all the way through, feeding them all the answers.” She shook her head. “That's why I don't teach anymore.”
“You're teaching me,” Kyle countered. Lee gave him a wrinkled smirk.
“You're not giving me a reason to stop.”
Kyle nodded, feeling proud of her endorsement. But he knew that he would continue to have to earn it; he wiped his sweaty palms on his white uniform, then took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. Lee plucked another cube from the air, then set it in front of him. Kyle frowned, leaning over it and trying again. This time he put a little more magic into the inscribing pattern. When he was done, he pushed the cube away, streaming magic to it as before. A respectably-sized flame shot upward from the cube's surface.
“What are you doing wrong?” Lee asked. Kyle blinked, then frowned.
“It's working great,” he protested, gesturing to the flaming cube.
“Oh really?” Lee shot back. Kyle frowned, stopping his magic stream, then waiting for the flame to wink out. He stared at the surface of the cube, realizing that it was stained black.
“Oops.”
“You'll be real popular when your runics scald everyone who holds them,” Lee stated wryly. “Put the rune deeper in the cube,” she counseled. “Like this...”
She drew on a piece of paper, resulting in this:
“Okay,” Kyle replied. Lee produced yet another cube, and Kyle did as she instructed, creating a rune deeper within the cube, making a longer wire to the surface. Then he streamed magic to the cube. A small flame appeared, hovering slightly above the cube's surface. Only a small circle of black marred the surface.
“The longer it takes for magic to escape the surface after the rune is woven, the farther away the pattern will be executed from the rune,” Lee explained. Kyle nodded, cutting off his magic stream.
“Got it,” he replied. Lee snorted.
“No you don't,” she replied. “But you will.” She pulled yet another brown cube from thin air, placing it before him. “Again,” she ordered.
Kyle sighed, grabbing the cube and leaning over it, weaving the inscribing pattern yet again.
* * *
Ariana lay on the wet grass of the Secula Magna campus, pain lancing down her left hip and leg as she struggled to get up. The world was still moving in slow motion, as if time had ground to a near-halt. She rolled onto her stomach, crying out as her hip crunched with the movement, shattered bone grating on bone. Not ten feet in front of her, Master Owens hovered unconscious in the middle of the shimmering oval her shard had created...and slowly, inexorably, it contracted around him. With her unnatural hearing, the sounds of her teacher's ribs cracking as his elbows sank into his ribcage were as loud as thunderclaps. Still the walls pressed inward, threatening to crush the life out of her gentle teacher.
“Master Owens!” she screamed. She wove magic frantically, creating a pushing gravity sphere around Owens to try to counteract the pulling field around him, but it was no use; her shard's gravity field would not be denied. She tried again, shoving as much magic as she could into the pattern.
Nothing happened.
She saw Owens' head arching downward and forward, so severely now that at any moment his neck would snap. She could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest, heard his breathing stop as the gravity field's crushing force made breathing impossible. His heartbeat became fainter, until it was barely audible, even to her ears.
And then it stopped.
“No!” Ariana cried, covering her eyes with her hand and turning away. She slumped onto her belly on the wet grass below, burying her face in her hands. Great sobs wracked her thin frame, a feeling of utter hopelessness come over her. If she could've cried, if she had been able to make tears, she would have.
She felt her shard's magic stream stop suddenly, heard a dull thump as Master Owens' body fell to the ground before her.
Oh god, she thought, balling her hands into fists, gritting her teeth so hard she thought they might crack. She didn't dare open her eyes, knowing that the vision of her teacher's mangled corpse would haunt her memory for the rest of her life. I'm so sorry.
She thought of Owens' wife and daughter then, and cried.
Then she heard a lub-dub.
The sound of grass crunching beneath someone's foot reached her ears, so close to her that she froze.
Lub-dub.
Ariana paused, then opened her eyes, slowly raising her head.
Lub-dub.
She spotted a dark form laying in the grass...Master Owens' body lying on its back. She heard another footstep nearby, to her left, and turned her head slowly.
Lub-dub.
She saw a hint of black then, an inky boot slowly sinking down into the blades of grass beneath it. She raised her head further, tracing the boot upward to black pants, a black shirt with rows of glittering medals on the left breast, and then that familiar handsome face, two brown eyes staring back at her. Her eyes widened.
“Kalibar!”
Kalibar knelt down in slow-motion before her, his eyes filled with worry. His lips were moving slowly, and she realized that he was talking to her. Ariana turned her head, spotting two men in the black armor of the elite guard running in slow-motion toward Owens. They reached his body, sliding across the wet grass, droplets spraying upward from their boots as they did so. One of the guards reached out to feel Owens' neck, and turned to glance at Kalibar, nodding once.
Lub-dub.
And then time sped up.
“...are you okay?” she heard Kalibar asking. “Ariana!” he urged, shaking her shoulder. She turned to face him, and nodded.
“I'm okay,” she answered. “Is he...?” she asked, turning back to Owens. A gravity sphere had appeared around the fallen Weaver, and the two men flew upward into the air, the gravity sphere carrying Owens behind them. They both zoomed toward the Tower in the distance. Kalibar watched them go, then turned back to Ariana.
“He's alive,” he answered tersely. “I flew here as fast as I could.”
“Will he be okay?” Ariana pressed, feeling fear grip her. Kalibar said nothing, his expression grim. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, the other behind her knees, lifting her up off of the ground in one smooth motion. She tensed up, expecting to feel pain in her right hip, but to her surprise there was none. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered, burying her face in Kalibar's chest. “I didn't mean to hurt him.”
“I know honey.”
Kalibar started carrying her back toward the cobblestone path nearby, the one leading back to the Tower. Ariana paused, then flexed her right hip experimentally, feeling no pain as she did so. It had likely already healed, as all of her injuries invariably did. She thought about telling Kalibar that he didn't need to carry her, but there was something comforting about being close to him. He'd been so busy running the Empire that he'd rarely had time to spend with her.
She nestled her head against his chest once more, staring up at his face. Kalibar noticed her gaze, and smiled down at her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, closing her eyes. She took a deep, shaky breath in, then let it out slowly, feeling the tension seep out of her. Owens was alive, and that's all she cared about now. If it had been anyone else but Kalibar that had found them, her teacher would surely be
dead. No one else could have beaten her shard.
Slowly, and silently, they made their way back home.
Chapter 6
Kalibar gazed down at Master Owens, who was propped upright in his hospital bed, sipping a glass of light green tea his nurse had just brought him. The old Weaver was in remarkably good spirits considering his injuries. With multiple broken ribs and a collapsed lung, Ariana's shard had nearly killed him. If Kalibar had come only a few seconds later...
“Master Owens!” he heard a voice cry. He glanced up, spotting Kyle running through the door into the room. The boy stopped before Owens' bed, looking terribly worried. Owens' nurse glanced at Kyle, then took the glass of tea away after Owens had finished it.
“That'll help with the pain,” the nurse said. “Give it a few minutes,” she instructed. Owens smiled ruefully at her.
“I'm no stranger to it,” he replied, grimacing as he propped himself upright in his bed. Kalibar grinned at him.
“I remember,” he stated. “You broke your leg at Tigus, during the border skirmishes.”
“Not exactly a good memory,” Owens replied with a chuckle. Then he grimaced, putting a hand on the left side of his chest. Kalibar glanced at Ariana, who was standing next to Kyle. She'd been staring at her feet the entire time they'd been visiting Owens, saying little. Kalibar saw Kyle grab her hand in his own, giving it a squeeze. She looked startled for a moment, then turned to Kyle, smiling weakly. It was good to see them supporting each other, Kalibar thought. Ariana needed all of the support she could get.
“If you'd had the good sense to have a real Battle Weaver to chaperone you,” Erasmus cut in with a devilish grin, “...you'd never have gotten your sorry ass spanked.” Owens raised an eyebrow at the Grand Runic.
“Didn't a real Battle-Weaver save you from Ibicus?” he countered. Erasmus snorted.
“As I recall, my invention killed Ibicus,” he retorted. “At least I didn't get beat up by a girl,” he added snidely. Then he glanced at Ariana, putting a hand up defensively. “Not that that's a bad thing,” he stated hastily. But Ariana didn't seem amused. Owens turned to look at her.