Suicharte
BlackRoseSiren
Lildear18
Carlyle
Fallenreaper
Ti
Jumbus
Silly
Echotech71
Astro
Chapter One: A Stage Broken and Set
“Well played, Ayla Arslan.” Those were the last words spoken by Huarcan Frannemas as he brushed past her, and they sent a chill up her spine. Nobody would see it on her face, of course. She smiled and managed some perfunctory reply, doubting anybody had overheard the substance of their exchange. Instead, her eyes fell upon the real Jocasta in the near-chaos of preparation for the fight to come, and she pushed herself forward in the wheelchair she’d done quite a decent job with while playing the role.
The two women embraced, exchanging looks of relief. “They saw through us, but it looks like we pulled this off!”, Ayla - the real Ayla - beamed brightly, giggling a little as Jocasta’s hair was ruffled, “Looks like you played your part very well too. Don’t think Augusto could keep his eyes off you; it was certainly not a pity.” She gave Jocasta a wink.
“In truth, it may have been mutual,” she replied, “and there is more to it than you know, but for now…” Jocasta allowed herself to trail off, glancing meaningfully at the wheelchair that Ayla was still occupying.
“Oh, right!” said the Torragonese, blushing slightly. “I guess the ruse is up, hmm?”
“Don’t look so gutted,” the blonde replied, reclaiming both her true hair colour with a little chemical and binding magic, and her wheels. “I imagine we’ll have the chance to trade places again.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Ayla agreed, before turning to the matter at hand, “But, for now, we need to take care of the wyrm… if it heads to Hosta, it could cost us. We would need to direct it towards the Refuge.”
Whatever Jocasta may have said next was interrupted by a rumbling below ground that grew ever louder and more noticeable. She could sense six person-shaped energies approaching and instinctively nearly launched an attack against them. It was a fortunate thing that she did not, for moments later, Ingrid, Trypano, Desmond, Benedetto, and Penny burst out from the floor, followed by Ismette.
She blinked. The six arrivals blinked. They stood there awkwardly, eyes searching their new surroundings. “I suppose this is one way to make an entrance,” announced Penny, chuckling nervously. Desmond struggled to articulate much of anything and, for a couple of minutes, confusion took the reins until the six were brought - more or less - up to speed.
Outside, people and horses scrambled and the refuge became a hive of activity. Nonetheless, as bags were hastily loaded, all-too-brief embraces and well-wishes were exchanged, and weapons and spells prepared, word of the negotiations made its way around San Agustin. The Royal Sand Wyrm - Shai Desierto, to some - was to be a test and, if no longer a desperate one for survival, then for their newly-won future as an independent people.
The town of Hosta may have been geographically close but, for most of the five hundred tethered who resided at the refuge, it could have been on another world entirely… until now. That was where the battle was to be fought and, if they could save it from harm, they might prove their worth to Duke Frannemas and live under the umbrella of his protection while under their own governance.
That proved a double-edged sword, as the Duke decided to hold his army in reserve, with Augusto, Thierry, and a few others playing only minor roles in the conflict. He fate of Hosta and the refuge would be in the hands of the fifty or so trained tethered and a baker’s dozen students from Ersand’Enise:
Zarina Al-Nader
Ayla Arslan
Yalen Castel
Desmond Catulus
Benedetto Corvi
Kaspar Elstrom von Wentoft
Casii’fyret’alan
Penny Pellegrin
Ingrid Pendersen
Jocasta Re
Silas Reiger
Trypano Somia
Ismet’ych’lahiiin’dichora
Chapter Two: Battle is Joined
Holding back was no longer an option and so the students gathered all of their most powerful magics and threw everything that they had at the beast. A great golem of wood, bone, and sinew took form, powerful sonic waves cascaded across the sands, and more than one person rose into the sky like some hero from a myth of yore.
It was the half-trained tethered who remained in the refuge that struck first, however, under the guidance of Amanda, Oscar, Luisa, Felix, and others. With the wyrm headed towards the town and away from them, it would soon leave the scope of even their extended range.
Hence, as a small squadron of mostly students from the academy rode out, the tethered combined their energies to deal a massive blow not to the creature but to the desert around it. As sand and stone collapsed around it and the maddened beast found itself flailing helplessly instead of plowing forward, its attention was turned in the direction of San Agustin.
Battle was joined first by the huge deer–shaped golem of Casii’fyret’alan, but her furious arcane attacks and those of her passenger, the mercenary Desmond, failed to faze the great sand wyrm in the slightest. Tunneling forward at a breakneck pace, it began to close in on the nearly three thousand souls in and around the refuge, and further attempts to injure or dissuade it proved fruitless until one of the defenders’ few atomic mages, the trainee Ingrid Penderson, struck it with a ferocious blast that sent it reeling.
The commotion, however, drew the interest of a half dozen froabases that had been roosting on the cliffs about a mile distant. Hungry for an easy meal, they proved a thorn in the posse’s side for some time, before being variously killed or pacified through the actions of Benedetto, Penny, Trypano, Desmond, and supposed ‘observer’ Augusto. It fell to the yasoi pacifist, Ismette, to deal with the final one and, in the heat of battle, it was easy to miss that she had called upon magics strange and dark to pull it into a fathomless black void.
The wyrm, still doggedly plowing forward, engaged the giant deer with a spray of acid from its gut, but this was neutralized through Trypano’s quick thinking and it was punished for its mindless attack by eating much of Desmond’s arsenal. Reeling, it was able to defend what could have been a decisive attack from the golem, but was struck opportunistically by a fireball from Ingrid. Chasing her and Benedetto, it was thwarted through a group effort, before turning its attention to Trypano. Having failed to grab her in its jaws, the animal batted away the attacks of Desmond and Casii, ignoring Benedetto and Ingrid as the two atomic mages worked together. Their powerful blast struck it cleanly and it fell, smoking, to the sands.
However, before anybody could capitalize, the wyrm dived deep under the sands, out of most people’s reach and once again focusing its efforts on reaching the refuge. From the near distance could be heard the screeches of more froabases: a dozen, plus the hulking shape of an alpha froabas, fast approaching.
With matters looking less than ideal, Ismette separated herself from the others, promising to deal with the threat, one way or another. As she reached into the void to draw from its endless power, however, she found herself set upon by a haggard-looking Jocasta and - paradoxically - Trypano, who tackled her to the ground and forced her to abort her actions, screaming that she would doom the world. Simultaneously, a great aberration, some twelve feet tall, appeared nearby in the desert and this drew the further attention of the flock of froabases.
Chapter Three: The Crisis Deepens
The aberration borne of their efforts, then, became a second crisis that demanded immediate management and, Trypano, recognizing that she had played a pivotal role in healing Desmond following near mortal injuries that he would soon suffer against the wyrm, made haste towards the increasingly distant monster in a bid not to further disrupt the timestream.
Deep beneath the ground, immune to all attacks but those of the tethered, the Royal Sand Wyrm, frothed and raged, barreling towards its target and the thousands of souls at stake. It fell to the tethered, in defense of their homes and very lives to do something, as the beast outpaced the forward party. Forming barriers of earth and stone in its path, trying to siphon its momentum, and cool its body had only a negligible effect, so vast was the aberration-made beast. It was only when they superheated and fused the earth into great glass and metallic spikes to impale it that it was forced to both slow and ascend into the range of their allies.
It was a fortunate thing indeed, the greatness of the tethered numbers, for Jocasta was soon to call on her brethren. Teleporting back to the refuge, she pulled every body that they could spare, bringing to the desert a second, desperate squad of hopeful heroes to assist her and Ismette:
Ayla Arslan
Yalen Castel
Clemencia
Kaspar Elstrom von Wentoft
Isabella
Thierry de Montblaise
Oscar
Silas Reiger
They quickly found the situation less agreeable than they had thought, as swarms of the screeching, clacking, wagon-sized dragons swooped and swirled at them with fire, tooth and claw. Ably dodging their repeated attacks, the nimble beasts threatened and harried the defenders and their shrinking perimeter and battered away at the magical shields that Ayla and Kaspar had so stalwartly held up for them.
Meanwhile, the larger group contending with the wyrm faced an uphill struggle of their own. Letting out a deafening cry as it emerged from the sands, the enormous reptile shook the ground with great thrashing tremors. While some were able to dodge the initial wave of attacks, they kept on coming, devastating great swathes of the land and rendering much of the group incapacitated as the sands began to consume them.
This acted as a trigger for Benedetto, and the overwhelmingly powerful atomic mage, laughing sadistically, drew up nearly to his full capacity and plowed into the wyrm. He slammed into it with enough force to snap its colossal head back and cause it to crash to the ground, half-conscious, allowing the others to free themselves and Casii’s deer golem to reconstitute its damaged body. Darting forward to seize upon the dragon’s momentary weakness, Zarina drove her shamshir into its eye, spinning like a drill. Letting out a howl of pain, its eye ruined, it dove into the ground to prepare a counterattack, pursued by thick, bloody spiked roots from Casii that tore and scraped at its flesh. Perhaps the tide had finally turned in that fight.
Yet, for all that the party squaring off against one dragon had started to find success, the other remained at a loss and on the defensive, its repeated attacks ineffectual against even the least of the swarm. Even a powerful demon conjured by Ismette failed to have much impact after she ordered it to use only nonlethal methods.
That proved to be the tipping point for Jocasta. Over Ismette’s protests, the blonde tethered girl conjured a rain of human-sized steel, bone, and stone needles, which pounded the flock of froabases, impaling, maiming, and skewering them until only four plus the alpha remained in fighting condition. At the yasoi’s further voicing of displeasure, Jocasta sliced her by targeting and destroying her demonic summon. The two women seethed and shouted, trading barbs, and it was enough to make Ismette walk away from the battle, fuming and unappreciated. Her erstwhile allies were still busy fighting, however, and they changed tactics, focusing on weakening the remaining creatures and empowering their heaviest hitters. Disorienting sonic blasts and the siphoning of both heat and momentum struck at the alpha and it wailed and reeled. Yet, it dove eagerly and desperately for the aberration, closing in with frightening speed.
Chapter Four: Deliverance
Enraged, too, was the sand wyrm, visible now in the distance as it neared both the refuge and the other dragons. Writhing in pain and shaking with fury, it emerged from the sands with fire bubbling in its mouth, ready to attack. In a bid to placate it, Zarina attempted a tactic that had previously worked with the froabases, but her subtle chemical influence was brushed away in its anger. It snorted fire from its nostrils as it took aim and Ingrid got dangerously close in hopes of exploiting the fissures on its armor from earlier wounds.
The fire attack proved potent, and though Yalen was able to siphon off much of the first, small blast, and channel the energy into Desmond, Zarina was not so fortunate in her attempt to dodge it with her nimble steed, Riesco. Only the last-second intervention of Marceline, who conjured a barrier of stone, was able to save her, and Ingrid, far too close to the beast in her bid to injure it, would surely have died were it not for the efforts of Benedetto, who used his enormous capacity for the Gift to draw nearly all of its fire and blast it back.
Emerging through the smoke and flames, the sand wyrm, now heavily wounded and mad with pain, vengeance, and aberration energy, belched fire all over Casii, Desmond and the deer golem, and there was no resisting its fury this time. Incinerated in the attack, the golem’s final act was to fling both of its riders free. While the yasoi landed with only minor injuries, her mercenary ally threw caution and his body to the wind to line up a perfect shot with high explosive rounds and the futuristic gun that he had received from the sirrahi. The results were devastating. His rounds exploding in the dragon’s throat proved enough to rip its head off in grisly fashion, and it fell in two pieces within sight of the refuge, but its final burst of fire billowed forth with its dying breath and burnt him. As both bodies fell to the sands, one was clearly dead, and the other maimed and broken, on death’s doorstep. Without the urgent intervention of a skilled binder, Desmond was sure to exit the stage of life.
If one life hung in the balance outside the refuge gates, many more were about to find themselves under threat nearby. After a failed attempt by Ayla, Kaspar, Thierry, and Clemencia combined to neutralize a juvenile alpha and two others, while Jocasta employed a terrifying temporal spell to age the final one beyond death in a matter of seconds.
It fell to Silas to try to sabotage the alpha, which was now closing rapidly in on the aberration, tantalizingly close to consuming it and absorbing its power. For all that he was able to slow it some, there was nothing that he could do about the devastating fire breath that it unleashed. While some of the defenders were able to protect themselves, many were left vulnerable and it fell to Silas, Kaspar, and Jocasta, to save who they could. The Perrench knight Thierry was in particular trouble, only to be rescued at the last moment by Zarina, who’d ridden in at a full gallop on Riesco. Still, as deadly shards of glass and flame began to swirl, it looked like the party was doomed.
Meanwhile, another seemingly doomed individual was met with relief as Trypano arrived, uncharacteristically out of breath, to administer treatment to the gravely wounded Desmond where Casii, Penny, and Yalen had all failed. Thus restored and now sporting something like a bad sunburn, he rose to his feet and was able to celebrate his victory properly, along with his allies.
Victory, however, was the last thing on the minds of those about to perish in the white-hot flames of an enraged alpha froabas. It is a fairly well-established law of science that water can put out fire, however, so when a towering demon made of living water interposed itself between the desperate defenders and the flames, nobody complained, nor did they raise any objection when the new beast that Ismette had summoned from the VOID extinguished the dragon’s ultimate attack. Though she had no words for Jocasta, the yasoi next commanded her demon to grab hold of the aberration, now mere feet from the giant reptile’s grasp, and this it did with ease, denying the alpha froabas a meal which would have both empowered it and driven it to irreversible insanity.
Seizing the initiative, the recently rescued Theirry de Montblaise gathered all of his power and hammered into the dragon as only a leadvein can, sending the beast reeling. However, his allies struggled to capitalize to any great extent, their attacks doing little more than annoying it as it began to recover and pursue Ismette’s aberration. At this point, as Yalen and Isabella decided to go all in on Thierry, filling him with a Blessing of Vigour, the battle appeared to hang in the balance, with the alpha regaining its strength and closing in on the aberration within sight of the refuge.
However, a quick and ferocious attack from Kaspar and long distance siphoning from the untrained tethered of the refuge was able to stall it just long enough to allow a fully invigorated Thierry to come in and pound it into the ground. Where an attempt to chain it by Clemencia failed, Zarina charged in, taking her very life into her hands as she leapt onto the froabas’ back and applied a dangerous new Chemical magic that she had recently learned but did not yet fully understand.
The alpha froabas, which had threatened to turn into a terror on the level of the Sand Wyrm, thrashed and roared, shooting fire into the sky and whipping its tail wildly, nearly throwing off the Virangishwoman more than once. Through her own courage and determination, plus some help from Yalen and especially a last–second save from Kaspar, she was able to persevere. The great reptile’s eyes rolled back into its head and it collapsed into the sand with a whimper, pacified and broken in spirit: hers.
Chapter Five: Fear and Opportunity
Arriving mere seconds after came the party that had felled the wyrm and, for a blip in time there was nothing but utter joy and relief. The refuge was saved thrice over, the duke almost certainly impressed with his new vassals, and everyone miraculously alive despite long odds to the contrary.
There were yet further wrinkles however, and while one was joyous, the other filled those forced to face it by fate and choice alike a creeping apprehension. The alpha froabas – a female - had been pregnant and nearly ready to lay eggs, hence it had been drawn to the colossal aberration as the largest source of energy in the area.
That aberration, the defenders of San Agustin realized, was and would remain an existential threat to everything that they had worked so hard to build and now to preserve. With the limited time and resources that they had on hand, they came to an inevitable realization: they would have to absorb it in order to be rid of it.
In the event, it did not come down to drawing lots. It was instead agreed that some would benefit more greatly from the aberration’s gifts and others would prove dangerous to themselves and their peers. If enough drew together, the madness would prove only temporary. Thus, ten stepped up to draw from the chaotic break in reality:
Zarina Al-Nader
Ayla Arslan
Yalen Castel
Kaspar Elstrom von Wentoft
Casii’fyret’alan
Isabella
Marceline
Ingrid Penderson
Silas Reiger
Trypano Somia
And seven stayed behind to deal with what was hoped to be their temporary insanity:
Clemencia Alvarez
Desmond Catulus
Benedetto Corvi
Augusto Frannemas
Thierry de Montblaise
Jocasta Re
Ismet’ych’lahiin’dichora
For about half a minute they made contact with the darkness and let it fill them and, when this time had passed, came twelve seconds of madness. Some laughed and some cried. Some danced and sang, others flailed and shrieked. Violence, venom, and rage made war with lust, love, and gestures of fondness. What happened during those twelve seconds is best left to the memories and perhaps the words of those who took part. When the dust had settled, though, all ten participants emerged with their minds more or less intact and noticeably more power in the Gift swimming through their veins than before.
Chapter Six: Endings and Beginnings
♪
The next few hours were a time to take stock, repair damage, and conclude negotiations. The royal sand wyrm had made for a rich prize, along with the dozen froabases that had also been killed, and the eggs of the Alpha froabas. While much of the bounty went to the refuge, and some to the duke, a sizable amount was set aside for the students from Ersand’Enise who had played catalyst to so much of the change. They decided ownership of it by means of a mock auction that played out over the course of two hours and greatly enriched all parties involved. Indeed, ten dragon eggs were prepared for transport back to the school.
He tethered, however, were perhaps the biggest winners. In view of witnesses, an agreement was inked, signed by all senior involved parties, promising the land of the refuge and 1000 acres surrounding it to its inhabitants in perpetuity so long as they kept faith with the senior branch of the House of Frannemas. In return for their service and fealty in matters of politics, economy, and most especially military endeavours, the tethered would receive financial support, guarantees as to their legal position and humane treatment, and a full scholarship for five of the most promising to attend each cohort of Ersand’Enise. It was close enough to the start of the program that Duke Frannemas even allowed for an initial group as a gesture of good faith.
So it was that Marceline, Felix, Luisa, Isabella, and Abdel were welcomed into the academy of thaumaturgy, after some ‘adjustments’ were made to the birthdate of the youngest. The many others who the students had come to know over the course of their week in the desert could not come with them, though.
Tavio Ortega, who had not been a good man, but perhaps not a bad one either, was among that number, for he was also no longer among the living. He was buried in a small plot behind the red tower, and a headstone erected to commemorate his life. His family did not want him, and few attended the service.
Manuel Escarra, named Lord Warden of San Agustin de las Arenas both by Duke Frannemas and popular vote, was among that few, despite the frequent conflict between the two men. Some three hours later, he took a break from his duties overseeing the transfer of prisoners and the hiring and reinstatement of others to retrieve Amanda and come visit with the youths who had impacted him so greatly.
For some twenty minutes, as animals were readied, froabas eggs secured, and goods packed onto hastily-manufactured skids, those staying and those leaving mingled. Laelle hung eagerly around Ayla, anxious of being parted from her, but assured that, next cohort, she would be headed to Ersand’Enise, and that they would write in the meanwhile. Younger children clustered eagerly around her soon, and then Casii, Jocasta, and Vieri, begging them for one more game of this or that. However, one, in particular, stood slightly apart, monopolizing Yalen.
Rita and the blond-headed monk spent their final minutes not far from the pool, which had been temporarily given over to some of the duke’s soldiers so that they might cool themselves. “They took my pool,” she pouted, face scrunching up a bit and arms crossed but, after a moment, the girl thought better of it. “But I guess they need it more than me right now.” She sighed, uncrossing her arms and looking up at him after a moment. “Are you really going?” she begged, “Forever?”
Then there were the five tethered who were going to the school. They spent what time they had left in San Agustin with friends they would likely not see for years or, in some cases, ever again, basking in that warm, cold, nervous glow before an impending and permanent parting. Then, their time ran short and Amanda wished to make a final statement before it was all finished.
“I do not have enough words of thanks,” she said, as Escarra stood respectfully silent close by. It was the students from the academy that she addressed. “Each of you came here for your own reasons, with your own lives, your own concerns and struggles. I’m under no illusions that you didn’t truly know what you had been pulled into.” With the assistance of the Gift, she bowed at the waist. “But you willingly and selflessly gave of yourselves in a world that so often demands the opposite from us.” She looked them, one-by-one, in the eyes. “I was broken, not just in body, but in spirit.”
“And I too,” interjected Jocasta. Amanda flashed her a reassuring smile.
“Gods, you showed me how good us imperfect people can be. You’re no saints, no legendary heroes or exemplars from those stories we hear as children, and I’m so very glad of it. You were just people, who saw others in need and did the right thing, even though I know it must not have been easy.”
She took a moment to swallow. “You have helped us to uplift ourselves. You have made so many lives so much better, and that is more than most can claim in their lives. I beg of you to keep doing it, because it is so needed and you do it so well.” She smiled bravely and blushed. “At the risk of sounding hackneyed, I would call you my heroes. You are, and you are - each of you - whatever else your imperfections, the exact sort of friends I would wish for my Marci.” She sniffed and glanced away momentarily. “Gods, look at me all sappy like some old prune.” Amanda’s eyes met theirs again. “Please, go with my utmost thanks. Look after my daughter. Live good lives.” She looked away to the side, holding back tears, and was finished.
Then, it was Manuel Escarra’s turn, and he was a bit less at length in his words. “I thank you,” he said simply, shaking each of their hands in turn and exchanging some quick personal words. “I have spoken many thanks in my life and most have been lies because they have been demanded or expected of me. Not this one.” He released Ayla’s hand last of all. “All of you will always be welcome in San Agustin. I swear it on Ipte, Shune, Oraff, Eshiran, Dami, and Vashdal.” He stepped back and bowed at the waist. “Thank you for keeping the faith and for treating my Amanda and my Marceline so well. Please continue to take care of her in Ersand’Enise.”
“Abuelo!” Marceline hurried to embrace him, unafraid, in the moment, of appearing childish. “Mi Vida,” he whispered into her hair, stroking it and kissing the top of her head. “I can feel the worry in your shoulders,” he chided. “You don’t think you will be good enough.” He shook his head. “You are already good enough, Marceline.” He let her go to arms’ length, but he looked her in the eyes. “You do not have to worry about making me or your mother proud.” He spared a glance and a smile at Amanda, who rose and floated forward in a manner very much like that of Jocasta. “We could not be prouder of you right now,” she assured her daughter, “or more excited for everything in your future.” In truth, her arms were no longer of any use to her, but she controlled them through the Gift, and wrapped them tightly around her little girl who was now so nearly a grown woman. “I love you, Marci. I love what you are, what you have been to me, and what you will become.”
For a moment, fear overcame the girl. “I will become… like you, Mother,” she mewed, “and might not even see you again!”
Amanda reached up, uncurling her limp fingers and stroking Marceline’s hair. She cupped the side of her daughter’s face in her palm. “And is being like me truly such a bad thing, little one?”
Marci gulped.
“I know I am near the end of my life now, but I have lived a good one, truly. I have known love and laughter. I have comforted and been comforted.” She glanced Jocasta’s way and they exchanged a brief nod. “I have played under Gran Naranja, I have held and been held. I have had a dozen adventures all around the world. How could I ever be disappointed? Most importantly, I have lived to see our people free, to watch this little person -” she pinched Marci’s cheek fondly, “-who I brought into the world grow up into a smart, beautiful, and good young woman.” A couple of tears slid down her cheeks and the youth reached out to wipe them away. “I have lived a good life, my precious one, and the best part was knowing that yours will be even better.”
And then… it appeared: a swirling of reality that resolved itself into the semi-familiar environs of Hugo Hunghorasz’s study. After a few seconds, it stabilized, and it was like when that first group had arrived all over again: hundreds of faces clustered around them and twice as many eyes staring in wonder and longing. The goodbyes, farewells, and exhortations to write flew thick and fast and the first couple of students stepped through. They crescendoed, and bodies darted forward, to be gently restrained by the guards, as four of the five chosen tethered made their way across the threshold. It had been so short a time, in the grand scheme of things, but so much had changed that the time before had felt, for some, like another life altogether. Jocasta sent the great skids through next, and then it was time, and the disappeared: Kaspar, who had found himself and a brother; Zarina, who had lost and found a sister and, perhaps, a new perspective on many things; Ayla, whose kindness and loving nature had saved - saved - so many and so much, and finally Yalen, who had found both strength and doubt and known things that he never would have before. When he disappeared, however, he did not go alone, and nobody had the heart to deny him.
It was just Marceline and Jocasta: two young women in the place of wonders and horrors where they had grown up, some six years apart. The portal flickered for a moment, and the dust and desert sun filled their nostrils. Jocasta closed her eyes and breathed it in. Marci silently gave her mother and grandfather one last hug each. “I’ll… see you on the other side?”
Jocasta smiled. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Marci pivoted on the spot, the motion taking some effort, and her senses took in the refuge of San Agustin de las Arenas one last time. Then, she stepped through.
Jocasta, however, sat there for a moment, as people watched, growing silent. Amanda sat across from her and her mind’s eye sizzled with the mirage of a similar scene some eleven long years ago: a little girl with blonde hair, lost and afraid, and the big warm arms of a young woman who made her feel safe.
That girl was a young woman now, herself, and the one who had held her, soon to die. She set hands to wheels and rolled forward a couple of pushes, drifting to a stop and bumping lightly up against Amanda. “Sister,” she said, grabbing the other’s hands.
“Sister,” Amanda replied. Both leaned forward until they touched foreheads. Warm breath mixed with warm breath and swirled between their faces: life leaving and entering their bodies. “You have saved me,” said Jocasta, her voice a breathy whisper. “For the second time, you have saved me.”
Amanda reached out again, labouring in her movements with the Gift, and placed her hands upon the younger woman’s shoulders. Pushing her out to arms’ length, she squeezed. “Now you can save someone else, Chela, right?”
Jocasta glanced uncomfortably around, the finality of it all smacking her: a chapter in the book of her life surely closing, and an ending that was oh so sweet, but with a final hint of bitterness, inescapably that final hint. She had never expected to come back, but oh how glad she was that she had! “I promise you,” she said, letting her hands fall to her wheels, “on the many years we have known each other, that I will.” Her fingers closed around them and she backed up: one push, then a second. She took a deep breath, smiled for something to do with her mouth, and turned. Then, the smell of dust and the rolling heat were gone.
Epilogue: The Comedown
Some days earlier, Leon Solaire and then the rest of the group that had been sent to Feska had returned the same way. They had returned with rewards of their own and some form of victory. That the Paradigm had known of Leon’s ruse was certain, for he was seen to hold it in his hands. What, precisely, had happened to the Lyre of Ipte-Zept after that was somewhat more ambiguous, to none more so than the performer himself.
In any event, there were nearly twenty young people who now stood - or sat - in the great sorcerer’s study, along with goods and animals, and he scowled for a moment at the intrusion, before allowing his expression to soften. “You did well,” he said simply. “By no means perfect, but well.” He nodded slowly, more due to age than any sort of pensiveness, for he seemed quite a decisive sort. “The world is objectively a better place because of your actions,” he stated firmly, “and that is always the goal.” From beneath drooping eyelids, aged eyes peered up at the various treasures that his students had returned with. “And, I know, for some of you, the… personal gain has been substantial as well. Well done in seizing life’s opportunities.”
There was little else to say or, perhaps, little else the legendary wizard was interested in saying. He was, after all, over a century old and not possessed of much energy these days. “I shall call on you again sometime,” he assured the biros, as the door to his impossibly large study opened into the narrow, drafty hallway of the Forked Tower. “Answer should you seek more good for the world and for yourselves.” He shrugged. “Otherwise, do not.”
It would be a lie to say that campus life returned to the mundane following the twenty-five students’ life or death struggles and vast new riches, but a species of normalcy did eventually return. There were readings to be caught up on, papers to write, and friends and masters alike to catch up with. Yet, now, there were dragon eggs to be cared for, business ventures to start up, and valuable goods to be moved for profit. New skills were practiced relentlessly and put to use. Others were studied until they could be practiced. Lives were, for the most part, busy and full, none more so than Manfred’s and Marceline’s once brother and sister were united, but that is a story best told by those it concerns.
In the vein of concerns, there were two weeks remaining before the Student Societies Faire and four before The Trials: a famous or perhaps infamous set of games that pitted apprentice groups against each other for rich reward. If the academy was not quite yet all abuzz about them, then a quiet anticipation had taken hold at the very least. Precisely how any of this would play out was yet to be decided. The future, after all, is what we make of it.
A R C T W O : F I N .
