Dragonlinked

by Adolfo Garza Jr.

  He again looked at them both, then down at his plate, suddenly shy. “He’s naming the spell after me: ‘Aeron’s Amplification.’”

  “That’s amazing!” Willem said. He gave Aeron a one-armed hug across the shoulders and then pounded him on the back.

  “Congratulations!” Sharrah said, beaming at him from across the table.

  His friends had both seen how devastated Aeron was over the near mishap. It seemed he had indeed learned his lesson and would hopefully be careful in the future, and so now they wanted to lighten his spirit. For his part, Aeron was extremely embarrassed at the accolades and could do nothing but blush bright red.

  “So what happens now?” Willem asked, returning to his lunch.

  His cheeks still crimson, Aeron said, “I’m to study my primer very hard and do some casting practice. This afternoon, we’re going to continue working on spells and some of the magic symbols used by them so I can read and study spells in the primer.”

  “Well I think a toast is in order,” Sharrah said. She scooped up some pie with her fork and held it up, looking expectantly at the other two. Willem quickly copied her with his cake, and Aeron grabbed a spoonful of his cobbler.

  “To Aeron’s success in magic so far,” and Sharrah looked over at Aeron. “May it continue as well into the future.”

  “Hear, hear,” Willem said.

  All three ‘clinked’ their deserts together, laughed, and then ate them.

  Along with focus symbols for the various types of magic, there were also transformation symbol sets. These groups of symbols indicated that the focus symbol they followed should be transformed, what type of transformation was required, how many of the previous focus symbols were affected and how many steps later in the spell the transformation should be made.

  Aeron sighed as he walked along the cobblestone road on the way back to the dorms. It sure sounded complicated when he thought about it, but in practice, it made perfect sense.

  After lunch, Master Doronal and Aeron had spent the entire afternoon working on transformation symbols, of which there weren’t many. As excited as Aeron was about magic, repetition drills were extremely boring. He knew they were needed so that the things being practiced became instinctive, but even so, it had not been the most exciting experience after actually casting spells.

  Aeron, Willem and Sharrah had just finished dinner, but both his friends had needed to head back to their individual craft halls to finish up work they were doing before their day was done. He and Willem had accompanied Sharrah to the Animal Craft Hall, and then he had walked with Willem to the side entrance of the Leather Craft Hall. Now he was headed back to the dormitories, his soft-soled shoes making nary a sound on the cobbled road. The sunlight was taking on the deep golden hue of approaching sunset.

  At dinner, his friends had asked questions about magic and spells, which he was happy to answer as best he could. Some of his answers had been too complicated for them to fully understand, however. But they had both been happy for him and the prospect that he more than likely would be able to apprentice in magic.

  And speaking of magic, Aeron wanted to review what he and Master Doronal had gone over before dinner one more time. He flipped through the pages of his primer to Maxeem’s Amplification and looked over the spell again. Yes. He could see now how all the symbols worked together to define the spell. He still had to flip back and forth between the focus symbol section, the transformation symbol section, and back to the spell, but he could see it all now. Once he had all the symbols memorized, he should have no problem understanding a spell straight from a page or scroll.

  He smiled and closed the primer, rounded the corner of the Glass Craft Hall, and ran straight into Jessip and his friends. They had been leaning against the front wall of the building, right around the corner.

  “Hello runt,” Jessip said. “Thought you could avoid us all day, did you?” he asked, a smug look on his face.

  Aeron only had enough time to tuck the primer into the back of his pants before they were on him. Two boys grabbed his arms and held him fast. Aeron glanced around, but there were four of them and he couldn’t see an easy way out.

  Jessip smiled and walked closer. “You lost us right before lunch. Just like a little monkey, aren’t you? And at the Dining Hall, there were too many people.” He put on a mock sad look and continued. “We missed you. All afternoon we went without seeing you.” Jessip gestured to his friends and then himself, and with obviously fake sorrow, said, “We were so lonely.”

  They all laughed.

  “But,” the older boy said, extremely proud of himself, “we finally found you. I saw you walking with your pipsqueak friends and we followed. When I saw you heading to the side entrance of the leather hall, we went around the other way and just waited here for you. Brilliant of me, yes?”

  Aeron stared at the oder boy, frustrated. Why couldn’t Jessip just leave him alone? Maybe he would have to tell someone about Jessip, much as he didn’t want to. “You’d better leave me alone, Jessip, or—”

  Aeron didn’t have time to dodge the punch to his face. A white starburst of light and pain made it difficult to see for a moment.

  “Or what?” Jessip asked with a sneer. “You’ll put your face in front of my fist again? You better shut up if you know what’s good for you. Now, where’s that book?”

  Aeron started to panic and his mouth started moving before he could think. “It’s funny how brave you are when you have your friends holding me, Jessip. What’s the matter, scared of the runt are you?”

  When his words caught up to his brain, he gulped and thought, Great. My big mouth is going to get me in even more trouble!

  Jessip, laughing, said, “Scared? Of you? I don’t think so.” He gestured to the two boys who were holding Aeron. “Let him go. But take care in case he tries to run again.”

  The two boys let go of Aeron’s arms and took a step back. They watched him warily, ready to pounce should he try to run.

  “Well?” Jessip asked. “What is the tough little runt going to do now? You don’t have anyone holding you back.”

  Aeron’s mind raced. What could he do now? He glanced around. The two boys narrowed their eyes, thinking he was about to run. The last boy, Renny, was behind him, so that direction was covered as well. What about Jessip? The bully was very confident. If Aeron could somehow surprise him . . .

  “This what you’re after?” Aeron asked, pulling out his primer and showing it to Jessip. “Do you even know what this is, other than a book?” Jessip’s eyes narrowed. He was about to say something, but Aeron kept going. “You see, it’s not just any book. It’s special. It’s a primer.” Aeron rotated the book around. “A sorcery primer.”

  The two boys to Aeron’s side took another step back, glanced nervously at each other and then back at Aeron.

  “Can you see the title?” Aeron held the book, spine out to Jessip, tauntingly. “Can you read it?”

  Jessip growled and reached for the primer, but Aeron pulled it back a bit. Jessip leaned forward even farther for the book.

  Aeron’s plan had been to yank Jessip’s arm. Because the bully was leaning so far forward, it should be very easy to yank and shove him to the ground, giving Aeron a chance to run for it. But then he saw the look on Jessip’s face—annoyance and anger that Aeron dared to defy him.

  Aeron’s arm shot out, thrust the leather primer forward, and the book’s spine caught Jessip hard on the nose. Blood shot down the front of Jessip’s shirt, and he screamed with pain and rage, bringing his hands to his face.

  Aeron was shocked at the bright crimson stains on Jessip’s shirt. Had his arm struck out that hard? Jessip’s friends were also surprised, the sight of blood freezing them where they stood.

  “You pissing runt!” Jessip reached for Aeron, but when he saw the blood on his hands, he turned white as a sheet, staggered back a step, and fainted.

  Instinct took over Aeron and he ran for it. He flew past Jessip and made for the dormito
ries. Out of the corner of his eye he saw people making their way out of the Glass Craft Hall, no doubt drawn by Jessip’s angry scream. He kept running. He expected hurried footsteps behind him, Jessip’s friends giving chase. Instead, all he heard was the thudding of his heart and his own shoes pounding the cobblestones.

  He didn’t slow down until he got to the dorms. He walked into the building, trying to act as normal as possible. His breathing was ragged, his mind was racing, and he was near to tears. As he walked down the hall toward the boys’ dorm, he pressed his hand to his cheek and eye, which still throbbed from the punch.

  Aeron berated himself for his rash action. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Jessip was going to mangle him for sure tonight in the bunk room. Aeron didn’t know what to do. Curse Jessip for being such a jerk! Why wouldn’t Jessip just leave him alone!

  “Aeron?”

  It was Dormitory Proctor Jarvis. He had been on his way to his office when he had spotted Aeron. He altered his path and walked over.

  “I received word from Lord Baronel that we are to move you into—great Garathel’s ghost! What happened to you?”

  Proctor Jarvis pulled Aeron to the nearest sconce and gently turned up Aeron’s face, bending over closer for a better look at his right eye. Aeron’s eyelid was puffing slightly and darkening, and there was an ugly bruise on his cheek just below. The dormitory proctor stood back up, fists on his hips.

  “Who did this to you?” He had a very stern look on his face.

  Aeron looked guiltily to the floor. “I, uh . . .”

  “And don’t try to dodge the question, young man. You will tell me who did this to you, and you will tell me this instant!” Proctor Jarvis had emphasized the last two words with his right hand, stabbing his finger toward Aeron with each word. “As if I didn’t know already.” He crossed his arms. “Well?”

  “It was Jessip. He and his friends were waiting for me in front of the Glass Craft Hall. He started fighting with me, and I, I think I might have broken his nose.” Aeron felt terrible. Now he was going to get in trouble because of Jessip. Fighting was against the rules.

  “You broke his nose?” Proctor Jarvis repeated, a look of amazement on his face.

  “I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t know what else to do!” Aeron wailed.

  In starts and stops, he recounted what had happened. As he told more and more of what had transpired, more and more weight was lifted from his shoulders. He left out nothing, finally able to tell an adult everything about his frustrations and fears regarding Jessip.

  When he was done, Dormitory Proctor Jarvis had a very odd expression. “You. Broke his nose. And he fainted, you say?” Proctor Jarvis’ lips were trembling and his eyebrows were twitching, as if he were straining at something.

  Aeron nodded morosely. He was worried about what official punishment was in store. He had broken Jessip’s nose after all.

  “Oh my, this I will have to see.” Proctor Jarvis turned to his office and shouted, “Shelton! See to it that young Aeron here is moved properly. I’ll return later this evening!” As he made his way quickly toward the exit he shouted back, “Don’t bother him about his eye!”

  Aeron stared after the dormitory proctor as he made his way to the door. Aeron was amazed that he could move that quickly. Proctor Jarvis was a stocky man of medium height, but he didn’t move like one now. The wispy, thinning hair on top of his head caught the evening sun momentarily as he passed out the door, and then he was gone.

  Aeron was confused. No punishment? He headed down the hallway to the proctor’s office.

  Assistant Shelton, an Assistant Dormitory Proctor, shuffled out of the office at the end of the hallway and looked at Aeron. His gazed lingered only momentarily on Aeron’s blackening right eye.

  Aeron was always amazed at Assistant Proctor Shelton’s appearance. Though no one was sure, he looked to be quite a bit older than Proctor Jarvis, with a large narrow nose lancing forth from his thin face, almost like a beak. His sparse gray hair was slicked down and parted on the side so precisely it seemed he used a ruler as part of his grooming. He was very tall.

  “This way please.” With not another word, Assistant Shelton turned and disappeared into the office.

  Aeron, still confused, followed.

  “That chest there. Please verify that all your belongings are inside.”

  “My belongings?” Aeron looked blankly at the indicated chest. It sat on the floor just inside and to the right of the door. It was large, maybe two and a half feet by three and a half feet and about two feet high, and was made, apparently, of oak.

  He lifted the lid and stared inside. It looked like all his things were in the chest, barely filling it halfway up.

  “Why are my things in here?” he asked, more confused than ever. A horrible, chilling thought suddenly occurred to him. “I’m not being turfed out of the Caer am I?” he asked in a panic.

  Assistant Shelton merely looked at him. “No. So then, all your belongings are, in fact, in the chest?”

  Aeron, still confused, checked the chest more carefully. Sure enough, everything he owned, aside from what he had on him, was in the chest. “Ah, yes. Yes. It looks like everything is here.”

  “Good. If you would, place your old locker key on the desk, then follow me and bring the chest.”

  “The chest? But I can’t carry that. It’s much too heavy!”

  Assistant Proctor Shelton’s stare was unnerving. He looked at Aeron unblinking for a few seconds, then sighed. “Close the lid,” he said, still staring.

  Aeron glanced down at the chest and then did so.

  “That large metal plate on the lid,” he said. “Place your right hand upon it.”

  Aeron did as instructed and felt a small tingle when his palm touched the plate.

  “One of the symbols at the top center of the lid looks like a small bird. Press it.”

  Aeron looked for the symbol. There were two, made of metal. One looked like a small bird, as Assistant Shelton had said, the other looked like a block, or maybe a brick? He pressed the correct metal symbol, which depressed slightly and then popped back up. After a couple of seconds, the chest rose about half a foot into the air. Aeron smiled. He nudged the chest and it drifted smoothly away a short distance, then back toward him.

  “That is a moving chest. Oddly enough, it has enchantments upon it that allow it to move.” Assistant Shelton exited the room saying, “The key. Then come this way, please.”

  Aeron stared at the chest, amazed, then latched the top securely, pocketing its small key. He dug out his old footlocker key and placed it on the desk, then quickly caught up to the assistant proctor and followed him down the hall, the chest gliding along behind.

  They made their way out of the dormitory and west along the cobblestone road. As they walked, Assistant Shelton’s shoes made dull sounds on the cobblestones. He had made no move to explain where they were going, so Aeron kept quiet.

  When they had left the dormitories and made their way down the stairs to the road, the chest had followed right behind Aeron, floating at the height of the top stair for a moment before it began to slowly sink down until it was again about half a foot above the ground.

  Aeron looked back at the chest now, which was still following meekly behind. It was almost like a pet. He returned his gaze forward and scanned the buildings ahead, trying to guess where they were going.

  Only the very tops of the taller buildings still had sunlight on them. The sun was nearly set. Darkness was moving over the Caer, though street lamps along with light from fire pits would keep some of it at bay all night.

  They turned north at the main street. Several minutes had passed since leaving the dormitories, and Aeron could not restrain his curiosity and fear any longer. He asked worriedly, “Where are we going, if I may ask?”

  Assistant Shelton only moved his eyes. He glanced quickly to Aeron, then back to the road ahead.

  “You are being moved to the Magic Craft Hall. We received the request from
Lord Baronel himself. Apparently an exception is being made for you.” He had put a slight emphasis on ‘exception.’ “I do not approve of exceptions, but Lord Baronel has seen fit to do this, and I will not gainsay him.”

  Aeron wasn’t sure what to make of this news. He knew that the Magic Craft Hall was one of the few craft halls with living quarters and was certainly thrilled to be moving there. This meant he would not have to worry about Jessip that night, or any night, really, and he was more than excited to have the chance to be even closer to where magic was practiced.

  But he was also confused. Why would Lord Baronel have asked that he be moved? Though he’d seen the man about the Caer and had even heard him speak at various events and such, he’d never actually met the lord who owned the Caer itself and the surrounding lands, the holding.

  They finally made their way into the magic hall, and Assistant Shelton lead him to Master Doronal’s office. The assistant proctor knocked on the door, and Aeron heard a faint “Come in.” Assistant Proctor Shelton opened the door and stepped inside. Aeron followed.

  “Master Doronal, here is Aeron, as requested. He tells me that he has all his things with him in the chest.”

  Master Doronal, who was sitting behind his desk, looked up, smiled at Assistant Shelton and said, “Excellent!” He stood, still smiling, looked at Aeron and noticed the black eye. His smile faded.

  “Assistant Shelton.”

  “Yes, Master Doronal?”

  “Is my vision failing me, or does Aeron appear to have a black eye? And is that also a bruise on his cheek?” Master Doronal walked quickly around the desk and stood next to Aeron, leaning over to examine his face closely.

  Aeron blushed with embarrassment. He’d almost forgotten about the fight.

  “Hmm, yes. Proctor Jarvis ran off, asking me to finish young Aeron’s move to this hall and told me specifically not to ask him about the black eye.”