A Mission Gone Wrong Pt. 5

Scant beams of sunlight peered through the loosely drawn curtains, waking me. One of the disadvantages of having your windows face the east was that you rose with the sun, like it or not. I got to my feet from my bed, groggy and sluggish, and made my way over to the crimson curtains. Drawing back the curtains completely, I was greeted with a lovely sight of the forest of Du Weldar Sila. The trees stretched for miles until meeting the horizon, no visible end in sight. Fog rolled gently along the contours of the grounds, giving the academy a serene and peaceful feeling, it looked as if the academy was in a cloud, with the eastern spire standing defiant against the sky. Today was already looking like it was going to be a good day.

I opened the drawers of my wardrobe looking for a fresh set of clothes for the day, finding a red tunic; I threw it on and accented it with a black leather vest along with some black cloth pants. Feeling adequately dressed, I made my way out of my wing, but not before grabbing the leather strapped, black glassed goggles Machina had made for me. Leaving them atop my forehead, I observed my appearance in the nearby mirror, my shaggy hair was beginning to get a little out of control, so with a quick wave of my hand, the hair was cut about half-length (about 2 inches) on all sides of my head, leaving my hair with a ‘controlled chaos’ feel to it. I gathered the fallen hair and dumped it in the fireplace, then exited my wing, shutting the oak door behind me.

I figured I’d first pay a visit to Machina on my day off, followed by Dad and then I’d do my best to find Sylus. Opening the door to her wing, I stepped through her quarters, the living room was unchanged from the night before, but her bedroom was now messy; much like it always was in the morning. She was, of course, nowhere to be found in the first two rooms, and I would wager any amount of gold that she was in her workshop.

I reached for the handle of the door to her workshop, no sooner than I did the door snapped open, startling me, and Machina’s goggled face shot out rapidly, covered in soot.

“Need some help?” I asked genuinely.

She just looked me over for a few moments, seemingly contemplating her answer. Her blackened face crumpled in thought until she said, “Nope” and then shut the oak door in my face. I stood outside the door for a few moments, indignant.

“Fine, I didn’t want to help you anyways!” I said half teasingly, half angrily.

I walked out of her bedroom, when I felt a familiar presence in the back of my mind,

-Don’t take it personally, I’m working on that whole “secret project” thing. Ya know, secret.-

She was using telepathy… - Out of my mind, girl; you know I don’t like it. - I thought loudly.

-Make me- she thought slyly.

She may think that because her specialty is arcane magic, she has some sort of advantage in dealing with telepathy, but I had been practicing my own defenses. I overpowered her presence with the thought of seven Iron walls encasing my thoughts. Telepathy was all about mental fortitude, the walls would stop her from viewing my thoughts, and the next step is to expel her. I imagined a field of energy exploding outward from the walls, forcing her clean out of my mind. My practice had not been in vain.

-You’ll never overpower me- I gloated in *her* mind this time. I stayed within her thoughts only long enough to hear

–Being clever is more important than being strong-

Leaving her wing of the spire, I stepped onto the teleportation platform at the end of the hall, within seconds I was at the top floor of the spire, in the room surrounded by the panoramic glass windows. Father was sitting by the arena at the table we had spoken at last night; next to him was the elven Varik Cerventus, the academy’s Master of Illusion. Varik was very thin but of average height; he had a clean shaven face with sharp features, a slender, delicate nose and a defined forehead, his deep brown eyes set above pronounced cheekbones. His thin face was framed by long elven ears and jet black hair, pulled into a neat rogues knot. He wore silk robes of blue; at his hip was his prized mythril sword. Varik and my father appeared to be having a discussion over tea, of what I could not decipher, because as soon as I arrived off the platform, my father gestured to me and shouted from across the room:

“Hello son! Come on in, I was expecting you.”

Varik looked undeniably flustered at the interruption of his discussion with the Armedon. I just made my way across the room and joined them at the third seat of the table.

“Varik and I were discussing your training, actually…”

“Yes, perhaps a matter that should be kept between us for now sir…” Varik added, never ceasing to stare at me all the while.

“Nonsense!” the Armedon interjected, “It concerns him, he may as well know about it.”
“Know what?” I asked.

My father rose to his feet from the table and began pacing around the table; he brushed aside his black cloak to reveal his broadsword and then brandished it. He began to swing it in mock battle as he said to me,

“You excel at magic Malak, your knowledge of the destructive arts is particularly impressive, but magic can only get you so far, I believe it is best for you to learn the mastery of a weapon, and I think Varik is the one to teach you.”

He sheathed his sword in a fluid and fast motion and sat back down at the table. Varik still looked perturbed, but managed a small smile at the Armedons swordplay. Learning to wield a weapon was pointless, why learn a weapon when there was still so much more magic to learn?

“But isn’t the goal of the mage to not need weapons at all?” I proposed.

“The goal of the mage is dependent upon the mage,” my father said stated, “relying on magic alone can be a weakness, son. Sometimes, a blade, a simple sharpened chunk of steel, can be the deciding factor in whether or not you live or die.”

“Or a well-placed fireball” I muttered to myself.

“Regardless,” he said, eyes sharpening, “it would make me feel better to know that you have a physical means of defense, other than magic.”

I began to think of why this suddenly became so important to him, then it dawned on me, he didn’t want me to be in jeopardy if ever I had to overdraw on magical power again. Finally granted clarity, I questioned,

“Is this about the Klauwaks?”

The room grew silent, none stirred. Varik continued to stare at me with intensity, I shot him a glare to make him stop but he just kept looking, unaffected. During my brief study of illusion, I had the luck (misfortune more like) to be trained by the academies master himself, Varik. I didn’t approve of his teaching methods; he liked to use illusions to teach his students, those that struggled were met with horrifying visions of often violent failures. He was not beyond making his students believe they were in legitimate danger, illusion was a powerful magic, and for all his mastery of it I felt he misused it. He knew I disapproved of him too, thus the reason for his malice.

My father broke the silence with, “Yes actually, this IS about the Klauwaks. You overdrew on magical energy with so few spells, a fire manipulation spell, a small anatomy shift, and a mid-level healing spell. Did you forget to dispel Jorvars weight spell before you left? Yes, you did, because I did it for you.”

His words rang true… I had forgotten about the weight charm placed on Jorvar, had I remembered release the magic that night at the tavern I might have been able to pull off the healing spell without overdrawing… But that was in the past, and shaking my father out of his belief of my need of sword training was a fruitless endeavor.

“If you feel I need this, then so be it. But surely someone else could train me, not Varik!” I said with disgust. I wasn’t going to hide my true feelings about him.

Varik rose to his feet, shouting,

“Insolent boy!” my father shot him a glare and immediately calmed himself.

“Varik is the best one to train you, he is not only the most adept with a sword here at the academy, but he is also, as you know, a master of illusion. His illusions can give you an edge in training like nothing else; he can make it appear as though you are fighting multiple foes just as skilled as he.”

As always, his logic was sound.

“Very well, I will learn a weapon style. But if he abuses the illusions, I will quit.” I said defiantly.

“He’ll use the illusions for the benefit of your learning and nothing else; upon this I give my word, right Varik?”

“Aye, for the benefit of learning alone” Varik said, still eyeing me with intensity.

“Very well, since that’s settled, is there any reason you came to see me this morning, son?”

“Yes, but it’s a private matter…” I pleaded with my eyes, wanting him to send Varik away. He caught wind and said,

“We were just about finished anyways. Farewell Varik, I’ll see you later today.”

With that, Varik rose from his chair and made his way to the teleportation platform. Upon reaching the top of the stairs he bowed to the Armedon, and stepped onto the platform, within seconds, he was gone.

“Why is he such an ass?” I asked my dad.

My father gave a hearty laugh that boomed through the loft, “I hope that isn’t the private matter you were speaking of.”

“No, it isn’t, but honestly, why is he such an ass?”

The Armedon paused for a brief moment and then said smiling all the while: “Varik has led a long and trialed life. He may not look it, but he’s well over two hundred years old and has little family. As for why he’s so angry, I think its because he pours himself into his craft too much. Between you and me, the elf hasn’t taken a vacation in fifty years!”

We both chuckled and relaxed at the table for a few moments, making small talk and talking about the days soon to be events. Moments like this were what I cherished most with my father; the small moments together were often the best moments together.

“I have a question for you… When I was unconscious from magical overdraw, I somehow entered the Dream Void, I’d like to ask you what I saw.”

His eyes widened in awe. “Really son!? Do you know what that means! Wait, how is that even possible… I don’t believe it… Tell me everything.”

“I was in the void, it was completely black and then a landscape just formed around me. It was intensely vivid, and the setting was a desert. There was a young boy about fifteen years old walking through the sands, his body caked with dried blood, and he was dragging some type of sword along behind him. When he fell down into a sand trough, he looked right at me, and the vision ended.”

The Armedon’s face wrinkled in contemplation. “How clear was the vision? Was it crystal?”
“Clear as it is right now before us.”

“Interesting… very interesting…”

The Armedon stood from his chair and began pacing around the table, his black, yellow embroidered robe billowing around him in his hasty movements.

“Well, you were definitely in the Dream Void, which in itself is a miracle. But dreams aren’t normally that clear, that type of lucidity is only granted to the most diligent of dreamers. Son, not even I know all the mysteries of the Dream Void, what you’ve seen may not have even been a dream at all, but a vision.”

He sat down abruptly, backwards in the chair, and looked at me excitedly,

“Yes, your mother was a gifted seer. She saw the technological gifts Machina would give to the world, and saw the fine Armedon you would make one day as well. Perhaps you inherited her sight.”

“But if it’s a vision, then who is the boy?”

He smiled with joy and proudly said, “I have no idea!”

“Well thanks for the information” I said playfully sarcastic.

We chatted a while longer, but of nothing important, until the duties of the day called him away from me.  Leaving the Summit, I proceeded through the hallway that cut through our three living quarters and into the office of the Armedon, taking out my silver key, I unlocked the door that would lead to the base of the tower. Taking a breath, I stepped through, and I felt the ever present discomfort of ear popping upon entering the door.  I was now at the circular room of doors, various mages chatted about, free from duties for the weeks end.

Feeling hungry for breakfast, I ascended up the circle staircase to the floor above. The floor above was much like the one below, cobble flooring with various carpets and treated wood accenting it in various places. Marble and mahogany wood pillars formed the spine of the spire, and a large hall stretched before me. It was very easy to forget we were in a round tower, with how large the floors were (particularly the bottom ones, as the spire became thinner as it rose in altitude). I passed down the hallways filled with idle mages enjoying their day off, and took a left at the first (and only) archway on the left. The archway was massive, with ornate carvings of nature’s animals and forests decorating the pillars. Passing through led to the dining hall, its inhabitants and long wooden tables dwarved by the massive windows along the side. This was one of the few rooms on the base floor large enough to see the curvature of the spires walls. Mages from all over the academy came here to dine during morning and evening. A well trained staff of mages who fancied culinary arts prepared the food for the entire academy; what’s most impressive is that there are only twelve of them. Magic has the wonderful ability to make everything more efficient.

Scanning the room for a good place to sit was easy enough, it was late morning and most people had left to pursue other activities. Finding a nice, empty spot at a longtable, I sat down to enjoy my soon to be meal, no sooner had I sat down a quill and parchment appeared on the table in front of me. I scribbled on the paper, “Eggs and Sausage” and set the quill down. Upon setting the quill down, it and parchment vanished. Three or so moments later, a plate filled with three sausage links and two fried eggs appeared, fresh from the kitchen. I was about halfway through my meal when I heard someone call my name. Looking up, I saw Jorvar, waving to me whilst making his way to my table. He sat down across from me and immediately exclaimed,

“This place is amazing! I’ve never been past the Nubian mountains, let alone in Du Weldar Sila! These Spires are massive!”

“How are you settling in?” I asked him.

“Just fine, they say my pop will arrive in another four or so days, and I’ve already been to the room they’ve given us; its three times the size of our old cabin!”

“Have you cast any magic yet?” I inquired, curious.

“Not yet, at least I don’t think, I did wake up from a nightmare this morning and found a large crack in my wall, but I honestly don’t think I had anything to do with it.”

“That’s why you’re here.” I stated, deadly serious, “That WAS you, without proper control, beginning mages’ emotions control their magic. You ever get particularly angry, scared or sad, and you could seriously hurt someone. Hell, I’ve seen an elven mage cry tears that grew into trees. Magic is unpredictable. You must learn to control it.”

“I did that?” he said while holding his head in his hands. He held his hands to his face for a few seconds longer until he dropped them, and then smiled weakly, gesturing to me,
“Well then it’s a good thing I got you for a teacher innit?”

“Yeah, funny that, three days ago I was trying to zap you with a ball of lightning, now I’m going to be your teacher. Fate is odd. Tell me, just out of curiosity, why did you want my gold?”

Jorvar’s eyes left my gaze and he said quietly, “We needed grain for winter…”

And here I was thinking it was just his greed. Sorrow filled my heart for Jorvar, and then I looked at him assuredly and told him,

“Well, you and your father will never have to worry about food again.”

His bearded face twisted into a smile and we both enjoyed the rest of our breakfast. After we finished breakfast, I bade him farewell and set about my way. A whole day to myself before the torture of teaching sets in. I aimlessly wandered the base floor for a bit until I became bored and wandered up to the upper levels where the teaching halls were. The main spire was used primarily for education and community, with the dining hall being on the second level and numerous educational facilities in between the Summit, where the Armedon and his family resided. The other two towers were almost entirely residential and recreational; the west tower featured a theatre where any mage with a fancy for the dramatic could flaunt their talent. The east tower had a bathhouse that even the great city of Yevorok would be jealous of.

I continued to mindlessly wander the halls for near an hour until an old, grey bearded, ruddy green skinned Orc called my name from afar. He walked at a steady pace until he was a mere few feet from me.

“Hmmm…” I said to myself out loud, “an old Orc that I’ve never seen before calling me by my name… Could it be the infamous Master Baelo? Perhaps that trick worked the first dozen times, but not any more you wily old codger!”

“Damn” said the Orc, now revealed to be Master Baelo, “I thought I could get you this one last time!”

“So, an Orc, huh? That’s a change of pace, I see you still delight in shape shifting. Tell me, does anyone know what you really look like?”

“No, no one does, and no one ever will” he said with a cunning smile.

Ah, Master Nuiwen Baelo, the academies master of physical magic and living proof that your Arkstones element doesn’t decide your magical affinity. He is of a nature Arkstone, quite by accident from what I hear, and not one for the wilderness either, so he trained and trained and then some, until finally reaching the skill of a master in physical magic. He earned every pupil he has, and I counted myself lucky to be among them. He was the greatest mystery of the Academy too, he changes his form every day, always to something different, “for practice” he says. Sometimes it’s the form of a dragon, sometimes a young boy, once he even shifted into an elven female beauty; no one knows what he looks like, and no one knows his age.

“How goes your physical magic Malak?” he inquired.

“Well, although my healing could use some work. Also, that wing spell you taught me a few months back still takes a lot out of me.”

“Wing spells are one of the tougher forms of physical magic…” he said contemplatively

“Aye, but Sylus won’t leave me alone since he learned you taught it to me; he keeps on wanting me to go flying with him.”

“Ha, I remember the day you two first walked into my training hall, that young green dragon couldn’t grasp physical magic to save his life! Ended up quitting the class.”

“True, but he’s an excellent elementalist.”

“Bah, anyone can shoot ice or fire out of their hands; it takes a real mage to get clever with the physical world.”

“You’ll get no argument from me sir, I love this type of magic quite a bit; especially the Mages Glow color.”

“You and your color green…” Master Baelo said while shaking his head, smiling all the while.

We were about to go our separate ways before it occurred to me that I’d probably need to fly to find Sylus. That’s when I asked a favor of him.

“Say, Master Baelo, would you do me the honor of a little impromptu instruction? Can you see what it is I’m doing wrong when I do my wing spell?”

“Anything for one of my favorite students” He said with a smile.

The old Orc and I stole away into an empty training hall, inside the hall; about ten seats littered the back while the rest of the hall was empty to allow for a wide berth for magic. The hall was plain, much like all the other training halls, and for good reason, magic is volatile; no need to burn expensive tapestries. Master Baelo took off his robe and tunic, leaving him bare-chested. I followed suit. After we had both removed our shirts, the old Orc stood opposite from me in the training area. We spent the first twenty minutes warming up with simple physical changes, like eye color, finger length, and ear orientation. Small stuff, but he was glad to see I could pull it off without complication. Afterwards, we dug into the wing spell.

“Tell me what you do when you cast the wing anatomy spell.” He questioned.

“I run through the basics, I alter my shoulder blades to allow for the new bone structure, I thread the muscle structure in strong enough to support sustained flight, and then I grow the bones, skin, and form.”

“Well, you have the basics down; yes, but I think your problem lies in overthinking it, resulting in too much energy loss” he said while walking slowly towards me as his eyes began to glow a bright shade of purple. His body warped and twisted as he walked, bones snapping into place and entirely new ones forming. His orcish face disappeared underneath a mass of blue scales as it lengthened into a dragons jaw. His body followed suit, his back heels rising into the air as his legs became digitigrade. A dragon’s tail emerged from his backside as the popping of each vertebra into place made itself disgustingly audible. When his change was complete, he was standing a mere few feet in front of me. The only thing missing from this blue dragon was a pair of wings.

“Now then, Malak, do you give me permission to enter your mind?” He asked politely, it was common courtesy to ask permission when performing telepathy (something I’d have to remind Machina about).

“I do.”

-Now then, young one, summoning the proper anatomy to allow flight is a scientific one yes, as is all physical magic- he said, voice echoing in my mind. –But what truly marks the shape shifters from the boys is the love of the change… Listen-

The next mental contact was not words, but images; his mind flooded mine with an overwhelming sense of freedom. The ability to do and move as he pleased, be any form he wished and do anything within the limits of the body of his choosing. He focused on flying in particular; I saw the academy from a bird’s eye view, serene and peaceful as always. As he showed me these images, his draconic back began to crack outwards as two more appendages emerged from his shoulder blades. They extended out a full seven and a half feet each while a leathery membrane spread from each segment of bone, all connecting to his back.

“And that” he said aloud, “is the art of the change. You must allow yourself to feel the change, not just up here” he said pointing to his scaly head, “but in here… “He said placing his clawed finger over my heart.

“Ow!”

“Sorry” he said with a smile, “claws are sharp.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I said, ready to give it a go.

“All right Malak, now you try”

I stepped several feet back from the Master Shape shifter, and began to focus my magic. I pulled the goggles Machina had given me over my eyes, something I had gotten used to doing when attempting high level spells, I thought of the anatomy needed for flight, yes, but at the same time thought of the freedom that those wings would grant. I let the change come naturally, like slipping on a new hat or coat. The muscles of my back shifted and warped as new bones formed, skin warping around the newly formed skeletal structure. The bones and muscles extended back a solid eight feet each as white feathers spread over the new limbs.  Towards the tips of the wings the feathers became a tawny brown, while from the inner feathers a shined a bright white.

I had my wings. And I wasn’t that tired either.

“Bird wings?” Master Baelo said perplexed, “I could have sworn you would have given yourself dragon wings.”

“Too expected” I said with a smirk.

“So how do you feel?”

“Good; no-where near as tired as usual after casting that spell. Granted, it was still tiring, but this spell is now practical for me and that has made all the difference.”

“Excellent!” he said joyously, for he so loved his profession, “now, one last gift for you, for being such an excellent student” he said picking up my tunic and leather vest. He cast a quick bit of magic over it and handed them over. “Go ahead and try it on, you’ll find it fits quite nicely.” I put my head through the neck line and pulled the tunic and leather over my arms and to my surprise the shirt slipped on like normal, as if there weren’t eight foot wings attached to my back. Twisting my neck to look behind me, I found the tunic and leather now had finely stitched slots for my wings to fit through.

“These clothes are now enchanted for a shape shifter, keep them safe and wear them when you intend to change form; they’ll fit your body perfect every time.” He said putting on his own tunic and robe, which adjusted perfect to his dragon body as well.

“Whelp, I’m off to frighten the villagers! Good day!” he said while leaving the training hall.

He was my favorite mentor here at the academy. Seeing him in action made me think that maybe I could be what he is to me to the new mages I was to teach. I resolved to be the best teacher I could be tomorrow.

I was about to leave when Master Baelo returned quickly and in a slight huff, out of breath, he said,

“I should probably see if the wings actually fly before I let you leave, this being the second time casting and all; don’t want you jumping off spires to your death and what-not. Well go on then, give us a flap.”

I spread my wings to their full extent, and did my best to gain altitude. Luckily, the training halls have very high ceilings. Several flaps that yielded no altitude but strong gusts of wind did nothing but to reinforce my determination. With a jump I rose off the ground, quite shakily I might add, a few feet. I flapped each wing in unison, hovering suspended in the air by the sole strength of them felt empowering; I was flying, or at least hovering. The drum of my wing beats echoed through the halls, and Master Baelo clapped his claws together in applause. I landed near Baelo and tripped into him in the process.

“Well, landings aside, I’d say you’ve done admirably. “ He said returning to the door that led to the hall, “now… about those villagers.” And he was off.

I just smiled a smile so wide it hurt my face. I, Malak, a young man of twenty-three, had just flown. Now finding Sylus was imperative so I could bore him with my feats of wonder that he accomplishes every day. I ran out into the hall and down the circle staircases enjoying the looks of surprise on the newer mages faces. In retrospect, a man with bird’s wings isn’t really the strangest thing that’s been seen at the academy, but still it warrants a second glance. Exiting the Grand hall out into the gardens, I gave a glance at the sky. A few multicolored shapes flew above the academy serenely. I smirked to myself looking at them; I could do that too. With a powerful blast of my wings I was airborne, with each flap of my newly acquired wings I gained altitude; as strong as my wings were, I still lacked finesse while flying, I felt myself wobble and turn, and when a gust of wind would hit me, I would be blown off course. Eventually though, I did reach the circling dragons gliding on an air current above the academy. Joining them in their path, I asked,

“Hey, do you know a dragon named Sylus?”

The yellow dragon glided over to beside me and shouted above the rush of the air, “Aye, We know ‘em. Why does it matter?”

“I’m looking for him, have you seen him around lately?” I yelled.

“No, not since sunrise. Try the top of the towers; he likes to linger up there.”

Interesting. I didn’t know Sylus had a favorite spot. I angled myself downwards and dived towards the west tower, breaking my dive about 30 feet before reaching the tip of the tower. Slowly (and clumsily) I did my best to land. I still ended up falling. All that work was for nothing too, no-one was up here. If he wasn’t here, then he’s probably on the center tower. I took off from the ledge of the western tower’s peak, and gained altitude until reaching the top of the center spire. As I flew up, I passed the window that wrapped around the center spires summit, inside I saw my father at his personal desk writing or drawing something. I laughed to myself; he probably thinks I’m wandering the academy somewhere, bored.

Finally reaching the top of the center spire, I had time to admire the view. It’s just not the same from a window; the vertigo one gets while looking down, the wide panorama of the landscape, it was simply awe inspiring. The Nubian Mountains lie to the far west and south, the Opolor River a shining streak across the green and verdant fields. The massive forest of Du Weldar Sila to the east and nothing but grassland to the north, the landscape was simply breath taking. The view of the village that hugged the walls of the academy appeared as small geometric shapes, squares and rectangles of the thatched roofs that made up the tops of houses marked the land. My gaze finally turned from the land to the platform of the summit; I saw Sylus on the far edge. He was leaning on a marble spoke that the summit held for decoration, looking down on the landscape, no doubt lost in thought.
I inched over to him bit by bit, the stealth wasn’t necessary, seeing as he’s easy to sneak up on when he’s lost in thought, and when I was finally behind him I shouted,

“OI! Sylus!”

In his classic startled fashion, he jumped back and nearly fell off the tower.
“Gah! What do you think yo-…? Malak?”

He said looking over my wings, “Bird win-?“

“Yes bird wings, I know you expected the alternative.” I said smiling, “So, you just linger up here regularly?”

“It’s quiet. Occasionally your father comes up here too.”

“Sounds like him, alright.” I muttered

“I thought the wing spell tired you out too much. The last time you tried it, you could hardly move afterwards, let alone fly.” He said recounting what I told him previously.

“Aye, that was true, until got a little instruction from Master Baelo”

“That crazy… erm... whatever the hell he is! This is great! Now we can finally fly together.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

I then dived off the spire in a steep, stomach churning angle, nearly straight down until unfurling my wings suddenly. The snap was pretty painful; I’d have to make a self-note to not do that again. Regardless, the rise in velocity was intense as I swooped up and towards the horizon. I heard Sylus shout something but it was lost among the winds. I continued on towards the Nubian mountains, until suddenly I hit something. Hard. I hit something very, very hard. Next thing I know I was plummeting to the ground, about to fall to my death. A sudden jolt and I was being held by Sylus. He hovered there a bit with me in his arms giving me the “You fool” face until flying over to the west tower and setting me down.

I just leaned up against the spoke, pain surged through my head where I hit… what did I hit? “Ow… What on Arkhas hit me?” I said.

“Did you forget the ward placed on the academy? You know, the one that prevents siege weapons and wild elder dragons from attacking the academy? It works both ways.”

“…” I was at a loss for words. Of all the dumb things I’ve done in my life, this was the dumbest.

He laughed and offered a claw, and I took it, heaving myself upright.

“Now, like you promised me when you first learned the wing spell; let me teach you how to fly. But first, let’s leave through the gate. Hopefully Odech isn’t on duty today.”

We exited the academy and into the village that hugged the walls surrounding the spires, heading off to a field in the south he ran through all the essentials to flying. He examined my wings, stating that they were good, strong ones for flying. He went over banking, gaining altitude, and the proper way to break out of a dive. We then spent the rest of the day flying; I got better and better, even though landing was still difficult.
We sat in the field, tired from the day’s events.  The sun set serenely against the horizon, signaling the end of an afternoon.

“You did well, for your first day. With more practice we may even be able to race.” Sylus remarked.

“Aye, too bad I’m going to be busy for the next six months or so.”

“Why? Teaching won’t take that much time out of your day.”

I told him of my news regarding Varik and sword training.

“That’s such a falsehood; you don’t need to know how to wave a chunk of metal around. You do fine with magic, I’ve seen you in action.”

We talked some more until the sun fully set. We both headed back to the academy and I immediately set out to my room of the spire. I dispelled the wing spell, both of my wings retracted back into my back, until nothing but smooth flesh remained. To my astonishment, my tunic and vests’ slots for wings disappeared too, nothing but smooth fabric and leather where they once were. 'Just like Master Baelo said', I thought, smiling to myself.
Lying my head down on my bed, I drifted off into sleep.

Tomorrow, the real work began.