by Simon Archer
I went through the advanced combat spells I’d learned in my head and selected one for a sword. I reached out my arms to each side, closed my eyes, and my cello materialized in my hands. Every time, it came easier and easier, which made me smile. I sat down in my air chair and began to play.
The advanced spells were more complicated than the beginning and intermediate ones, as they were more etudes than scales. While etudes are usually based on scales and are in one key signature, they are more complex than just a straightforward scale or variation on a scale. They’re more like whole miniature pieces of music that are designed to get the player to practice in a particular key signature and understand it better. So, it was like a scale on steroids.
This meant that it took a lot longer for me to learn and memorize them, but like the scales, the etudes still followed pretty straightforward patterns. It wasn’t too hard, just time-consuming. I’d been practicing them in my head on our travels instead of practicing on an actual cello, too, so that made it take longer.
This particular etude was in C major, an easier key usually, and wasn’t too difficult. I set my bow on my string, prepared myself mentally, and began to play. I heard my companions murmuring amongst themselves, excited by the new kinds of complex sounds I was creating this time. I kept forgetting that they hadn’t had any music at all in hundreds of years, so any new kind of technique that I did would be a revelation to them.
A few bars into the etude, golden particles of light appeared in the air before me and formed a large sword, just like the ones I was used to from the intermediate offensive combat spells. But this time, like the scroll had indicated, the sword didn’t just make one kind of movement, but three. The advanced spells were like that, allowing me to get more done with one spell. Pack more of a punch, if you will.
This spell caused the sword to slice back and forth, strike straight down from above, and slash diagonally. It did this in the air, though it darted around the circle I had made frantically, confused by the lack of an opponent. I was quietly glad that it didn’t go after my friends watching off to the side, or worse, myself. Honestly, I had been a little worried about that when I first started to cast it.
Instead, the mystical blade just darted around the circle, completing the motions it was meant to but never reaching any ‘targets.’ When I’d gone through the etude twice, as was customary for that kind of piece, the sword dissolved, but I kept a hard grip on my cello. It didn’t fall away, as if it knew that I wasn’t done practicing yet. When the sword left, my friends started clapping. Even Freyja made a half-hearted slap against her thighs as she sat chewing on what was left of a rabbit leg.
“Well done, Leo,” Nadeine said, beaming.
“Yes, my friend,” Bernsten added. “I would wager that it would be an even more spectacular sight in a real battle.”
“Oh, that piece was so beautiful, Leo,” Marinka said as she wiped away what looked like a tear in her eye.
I grinned, enjoying the attention and praise, and I, too, was excited to be playing full pieces instead of just collections of scales.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile. “Want to try another one? I think I can remember three.”
“Indeed,” Nadeine said. “You should practice as much as you are able while you have the chance.”
I turned away from my friends, facing forwards again, and placed my bow back on my strings. I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply, and started to play. This spell was in A-major and was about a line longer than the previous etude. I opened my eyes after a few bars to see that the particles of golden light had already appeared in the air, coalescing in the center of the circle to form a giant spiked mace.
Once it was fully formed, the mace swung backward and forward, searching for an opponent. Then it transitioned to swinging left and right. During the latter third of the etude, it began spinning around in circles very quickly, until it became a golden blur, so fast that I could barely see the individual spikes anymore.
“Whoa,” I heard Bernsten cry out. “I would not wish to be on the receiving end of that attack, that is certain.”
“Indeed,” Nadeine murmured, and I glanced over and saw that she was mesmerized by the mace’s movements.
I finished the etude and repeated it once, causing the mace to go through each movement once again in turn. Like the sword, it was hopping around the mage’s circle, trying to locate an opponent, but my magic seemed to know intrinsically that it shouldn’t turn itself on me, or on my allies.
When I finished, a tickling sensation on my temple itched at my brow, and I reached up to brush a bead of sweat away. I hadn’t realized how furiously I’d been playing, or how much energy the spells had taken out of me. Nonetheless, I still had one spell left to try, and I’d saved what I thought would be the coolest one for last.
I rested for a moment, and my companions let out a splattering of whoops and claps after the mace disappeared. I didn’t respond, though, choosing to focus instead on moving straight to the next spell. I closed my eyes, put my bow on the strings, breathed in deeply, and started to play a haunting E minor etude.
Just like with the last two, once I was a few bars in, I opened my eyes to see the golden particles of light coming together. This time, though, they clumped together in several different places to form a swarm of golden daggers in the air. All at once, the daggers started pelting themselves downwards at an imaginary opponent one by one, shifting their position every moment or so in search of that opponent. Next, the daggers switched angles and pelted upwards, and then in the final third of the etude, they sliced left and right. I imagined an opponent in that situation would be completely shredded and winced.
When I finished my second run-through of the etude, the daggers dissolved in a puff of golden smoke, and my cello melted off into the distance as it usually did. I watched it go, wishing I could continue to play but also glad I could rest now. This had been my most tiring practice session yet.
My companions clapped again, and I moved to exit the circle where Bernsten’s outstretched hand awaited. But before my left foot had gotten a chance to leave the circle, a screeching noise filled the clearing as two very skinny forest elves with crazed looks in their eyes came running out of the underbrush and crashed into Bernsten and me with animalistic ferocity.
The impact threw me to ground, right onto a jutting rock that slammed against my ribcage. I groaned as I tumbled, just as I heard a growl and Bernsten’s scream of pain. I rolled over and pulled myself up, only to be greeted by the sight of one of the forest elves on the ground on top of Bernsten, and the other one, the one that had crashed into me, engaging in combat with Nadeine, Marinka, and Freyja.
The forest elf carried a long jagged sword that he swung madly at Nadeine. While she was effectively blocking his attacks, the fury of the assault drove her back, unable to get in any blows of her own. Marinka, experiencing a surge of bravery as she saw an opening, rushed over to Bernsten and brought the hilt of her own dagger down on the other forest elf’s head, pummeling him and drawing blood, but failing to knock him out. He turned around and slashed his claws at Marinka. She held up her sword to defend herself, parrying the swing just in time, and that’s when Freyja appeared, grabbing the other forest elf’s wrist and landing a blow on his shoulder with her own roughly crafted dagger, slicing deep into his muscle.
I ran over to my mage’s circle, which was a little faded but otherwise still intact, and held out my arms again until my cello appeared. I quickly sat down and launched into the E minor etude for the advanced dagger spell. The daggers appeared, pointed themselves at the forest elf attacking Nadeine, and pelted down on him like a swarm of angry golden hornets. The elf cried out in pain as bloody wounds opened across his skin from the first impact, and he fell to the ground. He darted out of the way of my spell’s next attack, but in the effort became pinned in a corner on the ground. When he tried to get up, I had reached the final third of the etude, and the daggers swiped at his chest until he ran awa
y, whimpering into the underbrush.
With that done, I turned my gaze to the other forest elf and was pleased to see that Freyja had made quick work of him. She had taken him to the ground, stabbing him repeatedly with her own dagger until he fell limp to the ground, blood mixing with the forest detritus. Freyja grabbed him by the shoulders and began to drag him over to the underbrush. Nadeine, catching on, ran over and grabbed the elf’s legs to help. Together, they carried him through the underbrush and back over to the road so that he couldn’t find us again if he woke up and somehow survived his wounds. Anyway, at least we wouldn’t have to deal with a corpse at the campsite.
Marinka knelt down to check on Bernsten, who was still lying on the ground moaning. I rushed over to them after my cello dissolved and choked when I saw him. His leg was sticking out in the wrong direction at the knee, red and raw.
“I believe it is broken,” Marinka said, looking up at me after she was finished inspecting the leg.
“What can we do to fix that?” I asked. “Is there a spell I could use?”
“I do not know.” Marinka’s lips turned into a worried frown as she turned back to Bernsten and shook her head. “I do not believe our meager medical supplies are well-equipped to treat this.”
“I know Siara and Anil gave me some healing spells.” I ran over to rifle through my pack of spell scrolls. “I thought I’d looked through them all, though, and I don’t remember anything for this.” I searched through the pack, scrambling to find the right scrolls so quickly that some of them fell on the ground into the dirt.
“Dammit,” I cursed, picking them up and putting them back in the pack before turning back to Marinka. “Do you think I should try one of the healing spells I know?”
“I am not sure,” Marinka said hesitantly, looking at Bernsten, who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. I looked down at the knee and winced again. It looked really painful. “I worry about making it worse if we select the wrong spell.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t want to do that. I’ve seen what can happen if a broken limb heals wrong.” In fact, one of my friends had broken his arm growing up when we were horsing around in a park tree in the city, and it hadn’t quite set right. He’d been in a cast for the better part of a year.
At that moment, Nadeine and Freyja reappeared from the underbrush after depositing the forest elf corpse on the road.
“He should not be able to find us again, even if he does survive somehow, though I believe it unlikely,” Nadeine said, wiping sweat off her brow. Then, noticing Bernsten, she rushed forward to his side. “What is wrong with him?” There was very real fear in her eyes.
“We think his leg’s broken,” I informed her before turning back to Marinka. “What should we do?”
“I will attempt to treat him with the supplies we have.” She shook her head with a grim expression on her face, her lips set in a thin line. “I know some about medicine, more than Nadeine or Bernsten, not that he would be able to help in his state.” She looked up at Nadeine. “Do you think that Leo should try one of his healing spells? None of them are specifically for a broken leg.”
“Perhaps...” Nadeine began, but she looked uncertain.
“I don’t know if we should risk it. They already found us once, and magic draws more attention to us,” I said, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn’t like the idea of not being able to practice, but then I looked down at my injured friend and figured it was a small sacrifice to make for everyone’s safety. I knew a lot of spells already, so I was confident I would be able to stave off any would-be attackers.
“Very well,” Nadeine said, nodding. She looked relieved at the suggestion.
“Leo, could you hand me the medical pack?” Marinka asked, motioning in the direction of our supplies.
“Yeah, sure thing,” I said, jogging over to find it.
The packs were all sitting off to the side by Bill and the other miniature horses. The horses looked pretty shaken up, rustling around uncomfortably and neighing. I reached out and stroked Bill’s snout.
“It’s okay, boy, it’s okay. You’re safe now.” Then, I turned to Marinka. “Which pack is it again?”
“The small one off the left,” she called back without turning to look at me, focusing intently on Bernsten. I found the pack and rushed back over to them.
“Here it is,” I said.
“Thank you, Leo,” Marinka said. Her voice was calm, but her expression was one of worry, her eyebrows scrunched together, and her lips turned downwards in a frown.
She took the pack from my outstretched hand and rifled through it, selecting two bottles of some kind of lotion and a rolled-up piece of cloth that looked a bit like gauze. Marinka pulled off Bernsten’s ripped pant leg and rubbed each of the lotions over the wound. Then, she unrolled the cloth and wrapped it around his leg tightly.
“Can you help me with this, Leo?” she asked, glancing over at me. “It needs to be very tight. And first, we should splint it. Bring me that branch over there.” She pointed to a rather flat branch lying off to the side of the underbrush.
“Yeah, sure.” I grabbed the wood and placed it gingerly under Bernsten’s leg with Marinka’s help, then reached out and took the end of the cloth from her. Our hands brushed together for a moment. I pulled the cloth as tight as I could around my friend’s leg, and then Marinka grabbed a wooden pin out of the pack to tie the cloth down to itself.
“That should hold for a day or two,” she said, but she didn’t look certain. “I am unsure what else to do for him at this point.”
“The forest elves in the center might be able to help him,” Freyja said, and I jumped at the sound of her voice. I looked over my shoulder and noticed that she had crept up behind us from over by the underbrush, looking over our heads at Bernsten’s leg.
“Do they have medical training?” Nadeine asked skeptically.
“Of course they do!” Freyja’s voice was sharp and offended. “We’re not savages.”
“I know that,” Nadeine said, flushing a little, but I remembered her calling the forest elves just that more than once.
“They simply have more resources in the center,” Freyja explained. “They’ve treated much worse before.”
Marinka looked relieved at this news, and I shared the feeling. We wouldn’t have to worry about food and water, at least.
“Do you know anyone in the center?” I asked, turning to look up at Freyja.
“Yes, I have one friend who lives there now,” Freyja said. “She traveled with my family for a while when I was young. We’ll go to see her first when we get there.”
“Sounds good,” I said, nodding. “How long until we get there?” Everyone turned to look up at Freyja now.
“It will still be a few days,” she said.
“Will he make it that long?” Nadeine asked, slightly panicked.
“I believe so,” Marinka said. “He seems to mainly be in pain now. It does not look infected at this time.”
“Alright, thank you,” Nadeine said, relaxing her tense shoulders a bit.
“How will we get him there?” I asked, throwing a glance over at my injured friend. “One of us will have to ride with him.”
“Indeed,” Nadeine agreed. “I will do so and try to lie him as flat as possible.”
We had a quiet evening after that, not talking much. Bernsten moved in and out of consciousness throughout the night, moaning and tossing and turning. I worried that the cloth would come undone.
“Do you have another one?” I asked Marinka after everyone else had gone to bed, and I had carried Bernsten into our tent to rest.
“One,” she said, nodding. “But that will not last the entirety of our journey. We will need more supplies when we reach the center. I hope that Freyja is correct that they have medical skills.”
“I’m sure she is,” I said. “They live harsh lives out here. They’d never survive if they didn’t develop those kinds of skills.”
“I
am unsure,” Marinka said, furrowing her brows. “Our historical records do not mention such things.”
“It seems to me that your records have missed quite a bit about the forest elves,” I said, thinking back to our conversation with Natan and his friends.
“Indeed,” Marinka said, nodding. “It does appear that way, to be certain. I wonder how we could have been so wrong.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess your ancestors were just really focused on the mountain elves?”
“Perhaps,” Marinka said, pursing her lips. “There are many discrepancies.”
“Do you think Nadeine will come around to Freyja?” I asked, thinking about their awkward interaction earlier concerning the forest elves’ medical skills.
“I hope so,” Marinka sighed. “You must understand, Leo, our perceptions of the forest elves run long and deep. They will not change overnight.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I said. We sat in silence for a few moments, watching the fire crackle. Bernsten’s groans echoed out from our tent, joining the other sounds of the forest.
One of the coals in the fire rolled dangerously close to the edge, and Marinka grabbed a branch from the ground and reached out to put it back into place. It worked, but the branch was skinny and broke when it caught fire, falling into the pit and bringing Marinka’s hand too close to the flames.
“Ah,” she cried out, grabbing her forefinger with her other hand.
“Ow,” I said instinctively, reaching out to take her hand in mine. “That looks like it hurt.”
“It is nothing,” she said, and our eyes met. I held her gaze for a long time, and our faces crept closer together.
I darted my eyes over to the tents and was glad to find that everyone else was fast asleep inside. I leaned into Marinka, and our lips met in a kiss. Just like before, her lips were soft, and her skin was like silk. I ran a hand through her long, curly black hair, longer than anyone else’s that I’d met in Eviorah, and it was like velvet.
