by Pirateaba
“Slip? What do you m—”
Ceria turned to walk after Illphres and her foot slipped on a patch of ice. It was practically frictionless, and as Ceria wind milled her arms desperately and stepped back to keep her balance, her other foot slipped on a second patch of ice.
Screaming, she fell off the walkway down towards the ocean below. It was a long, long drop.
—-
“Ceria, I really think you should stop. You did you best, but Illphres is never going to teach you.”
That was what Calvaron said to her the next day as Ceria sat at their table, sneezing and shivering. She’d survived the fall, but gotten a bad cold from treading the freezing water before someone had helped levitate her out. Given that it was mid-summer, she had Illphres to thank for that as well.
Glowering, Ceria shook her head and coughed hard. Her lungs felt full of phegmn and she resented the way all the other students leaned away from her when she did.
“I’m not gibing up. And why are you all hiding?”
“I don’t want to get sick.”
Beatrice replied as she placed her head as far away from Ceria as possible. Pisces nodded. He turned to the young woman sitting beside him.
“Colds are impossible to cure with healing potions, Mons. You will note that Ceria remains this way even though she is in the capital of magic? The cold is so troublesome that the greatest of mages find themselves susceptible to it. It is simpler to let it run its course, but of course the risk of contagion from Ceria is—”
“Shut up.”
Ceria scowled at Pisces. She shivered; she still felt cold.
“Ib gonna make her teach me. I will.”
“Well, before you do that, would you mind convincing Pisces not to join the pirate hunting expedition? And removing yourself from the list as well?”
Calvaron snapped exasperatedly at the two. Beatrice nodded.
“It’s not safe. You shouldn’t go.”
“Nonsense. This is a prime opportunity.”
Pisces waved a hand airily.
“We have no less than four experienced captains with their own ships, each with a crew of capable fighters. And with over twenty of Wistram’s best students, we’ll be sure to find these pirates who have been preying on traffic and—”
“Get killed. Horribly. Or ransomed.”
Calvaron interrupted as he buttered a roll. Beatrice nodded her head with her hands.
“It’s dangerous.”
“Nonsense. You’re exaggerating things. Ceria and I will be paid handsomely—”
“If it’s so safe, why aren’t the mages doing it? Why leave it open to the students?”
The Centaur frowned at Pisces and Ceria. She coughed and replied.
“Because it’s boring? We’ll be days at sea and might not find them the first time. But it’s fine, really, Calvaron. We can handle ourselves.”
“I think you two shouldn’t go. I really do.”
Ceria just shook her head. Her mind was made up. Calvaron opened his mouth to argue again, and paused as something flickered and flew past his face. He raised a hand to bat at it, and stopped as he saw the shimmering, fiery insect that flew past him to hover in front of Ceria.
She smiled as she saw the firefly—a literal fly made of glowing lights—hovering in the air. It spread its wings wide and she saw symbols and shapes flickering in the air.
“Oh? Is this from you, Mons?”
“I did it! I think I figured out the spell!”
Sitting next to Pisces, Mons’ face lit up with excitement. Calvaron stared at the flying insect and the message only Ceria could read and frowned.
“What’s this, Ceria?”
Pisces nodded. He straightened in his chair importantly as he explained.
“It’s a new spell Ceria and I developed. It helps us communicate at range and no one’s been able to decipher the messages.”
“So far.”
Beatrice studied the glowing message carefully. Pisces smiled confidently at her.
“I am sure no one will be able to break this spell. It is countless times more complex than any [Message] spell you could ever devise, and it can be used up to several miles away.”
“Handy. Will you teach us how to use it?”
“Maybe…but only if you stop trying to dissuade Ceria and I. Our minds are made up.”
Calvaron threw up his hands in disgust.
“It’s your funeral.”
—-
Two weeks later, Illphres found herself sitting alone at a table in the banquet hall. That was unusual for her, and she couldn’t help feeling something was wrong. Only when she understood that it was because she was used to having Ceria talking to her and pestering her did Illphres realize what she was unconsciously missing.
She passed a hand over her face and let her features change into a scowl. The half-Elf was gone on her adventure chasing pirates, and good riddance. She was far too annoying anyways, and now Illphres could concentrate.
That didn’t improve her mood though, and neither did the tall Dullahan who pulled a chair up at the table with her. He was named Jurix, and he was part of her faction, the Isolationists. That didn’t stop her from glaring daggers at him.
Jurix raised his hands as he placed his head on the table across from her. Two plates of food and a cup floated down next to it. He ignored Illphres’ glare that told him to leave and began to talk to her, quite unperturbed. He was too cheerful for a Dullahan, which contrasted well with Illphres.
“Stop glaring, Illphres. We’re on the same side here. Or are you missing that half-Elf that kept following you around all the time?”
“I’m not missing her and she was a pest. What do you want, Jurix?”
“Nothing. I’m just here to tell you that Ophelia is on board. Totally.”
“Really?”
Illphres passed a hand over her mouth, and she was smiling when she lowered it. This was good news. Jurix nodded, pausing to smile as he fed himself with a hovering spoon.
“That’s right. We’ve got four now; if we can get one more mage on our side I think we’ll have a shot.”
“I’ll talk to Amerys again.”
“Try not to start a fight?”
“No promises.”
Illphres, changed her features to a grin as she covered her mouth. She could have done it without covering her face; Jurix knew her secret. But she had grown used to doing it this way. She was about to ask Jurix what had changed Ophelia’s mind when someone began shouting a few tables over.
“What’s this now?”
Jurix frowned and picked up his head so he could see. Illphres turned and saw one of the mages shouting in panic as he raced into the room.
“It was a trap! They’re under attack!”
“Who are?”
Someone shouted, and Illphres looked towards the entrances to the banquet hall. She was expecting another loose experiment, or perhaps some of the undead from the catacombs under Wistram, but it seemed the issue didn’t lie within Wistram, but outside of it.
“The students! The hunting expedition we sent—it’s been ambushed! I just received a [Message] spell—there’s a fleet of nine ships attacking them! It’s not just a few isolated ships—it’s an entire armada!”
The banquet hall erupted into shouts and this news. Jurix turned to Illphres. Her expression hadn’t changed, but her eyes had locked onto the mage who had spoken.
“Isn’t that half-Elf with…?”
“Quiet.”
“The students say they’re outnumbered and the pirates have mages of their own! And their leader is far stronger than the [Captains]—he’s already slain two! Where’s Archmage Amerys? They need her!”
“She’s out hunting!”
The mage turned in desperation.
“One of the other Archmages, then! We need someone who can teleport or fly—if we don’t hurry the students will be dead!”
Jurix and Illphres saw the hall devolving into confusion. Some mag
es—those who could actually teleport—backed away, unwilling to expose themselves to danger. Wistram was full of mages, it was true, but only a fraction of their number was willing to go into combat.
For his part, the Dullahan stared hard at Illphres. She was seated, motionless in her chair. He knew she was thinking.
“Are you going to help?”
“She knew what she was getting into. All those students do. It isn’t our job to bail them out.”
“Very true. We should let them sort out their own problems. And if they can’t, well, that’s life.”
“Exactly. It’s not our problem.”
Jurix nodded understandingly. He reached for a plate, and stopped as Illphres stood up. She glared at him.
“Well? Are you coming?”
He grinned and pushed back his chair, already fastening his head securely to his neck.
“I’ll message Bastam and Ophelia. We’ll get her to teleport us, but it will take several leaps—”
“Hurry. I’ll go ahead. I’ll be faster.”
“Got it.”
Illphres strode away from Jurix. She saw heads turning towards her, but paid no attention. Students and mages cried out as ice spread in front of Illphres, but she just stepped forwards.
Her shoes were designed to stick to the ice, but only if she allowed them too. Illphres slid forwards on the ice, gathering momentum as she let the slick, ice take her momentum. It spread across the banquet hall, making anyone standing on it slip of be forced to grab a table for support. Calvaron tumbled to the ground with a cry and Beatrice had to grab Mons to keep her upright as Illphres kicked herself across the ice, moving faster.
She shot down the banquet hall, smooth-soled shoes turning as she pivoted, zipping past a group of students. Illphres jumped and cleared the fallen Calvaron. She shot down a corridor and found herself headed at a wall.
Ice rose and curved. Illphres kicked off from one wall and shot up the ramp and onto the far wall. For a few seconds she was horizontal, skating on the far wall, then she dropped down to the ground and kept going, barely losing speed.
She didn’t know why she was doing this. Illphres ignored the shouting as her ice magic shot down the hallway, providing her with a passageway to keep skating down, moving faster and faster. There was no reward for this, at least none she cared for. She told herself real mages stood alone.
But she thought of Ceria. She scowled as she shot out Wistram’s front doors, blasting them open with a pillar of ice. Illphres felt herself falling, and gazed down at the steps as they came rushing towards her. The steps froze, and the ice turned the hill down towards the docks into a ramp. Illphres sped down it, gathering more speed. She created a ramp for herself at the end and flew out into the ocean, a missile.
Real mages stood alone. But the half-Elf wasn’t a real mage yet. And neither was Illphres.
Not yet.
—-
“Get down!”
Ceria screamed as another volley of arrows flew overhead. Half of those who heard her threw themselves down, but the other half were too busy fighting to dodge. She heard screams as several arrow found their mark. One flashed past her head as she held still on the deck of the rocking ship.
As soon as she thought the worst of it was over Ceria was on her feet. She clutched at her arm; she’d been hit once already. The shaft stuck out of her flesh and Ceria felt faint.
But there was no time to rest or scream. The enemy was everywhere.
The deck of the ship she was on was filled with men and women with swords. Not just any men or women though; the Drowned People. They were a race created when parasites from the ocean fused with Humans or other species. Many were peaceful people, the products of an accident. But others were pirates.
And these were no ordinary raiders, no ragtag group of sea bandits. Someone had gotten their information very wrong, Ceria knew, because eight ships had ambushed the expedition from Wistram at sea. Now they swarmed the three remaining ships, wearing bright red bandanas. That way the archers on the other ships could avoid hitting their friends as she fired on the mages and mercenaries fighting for their lives.
At least the bandanas made them easy to hit. Ceria raised her hand and pointed three fingers at the nearest pirate.
“[Ice Dart]!”
Three shards caught the woman as she turned. Two bounced off the crustacean like shell on her chest, but the third hit her in the throat. She choked but didn’t fall. Ceria saw a mercenary turn and run her through—
“Ceria!”
She felt someone hit her from the side. Ceria fell and saw Pisces. He’d knocked her to the ground just in time to keep her from being run through by a man with a cutlass. He grinned and slashed fast at Pisces.
“[Flame Jet]!”
Ceria screamed the spell as she pointed her hands up. The man dodge back from the gout of flame with a curse and gasped as Pisces ran him through. The mage pulled his blade back with a grimace and helped Ceria to her feet.
“We have to run!”
He screamed it in her ears as he pointed to the side. Ceria dragged him back.
“We can’t jump! They’ll kill us in the water easily!”
“In that case—I’ll have to—”
He turned and swore.
“Look out! He’s coming again!”
Ceria turned and saw a ship shooting towards them, black hulled, the front reinforced with steel to create a ram.
The captain of these pirates stood at the head of the deck, grinning, bloody sword in hand. She flinched as she saw him holding two heads. He’d already killed two of the [Captains] of the four ships and sunk one with his vessel. She braced as Pisces gripped the railing—
The impact splintered the hull of the vessel Ceria was standing on and threw her and Pisces apart. She got up groggily, and saw more pirates swinging down onto the deck, charging the outnumbered Wistram students and mercenaries.
Already half of the students had died. The rest fell back, fighting with spells but unable to defend themselves from the brutally efficient blades and arrows that assailed them. Ceria stumbled backwards, firing shards of ice desperately. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be doing the hunting. They could have taken any equal force with their mages, but this—
Fire erupted to one side, burning a group of mercenaries as the pirates cheered. Ceria saw a mage – a man with red robes – standing on one of the far ships. They had mages of their own.
She was going to die here. Ceria backed towards her friends, fellow students, and the mercenaries who’d formed a desperate semicircle on their deck. This was it. The pirate captain led the charge and she fought for her life.
—-
Across the deck, Pisces found himself fighting for his life. He stepped backwards in a flash, parried a blade, and stepped again, thrusting desperately. But his opponent moved as fast as he did, perhaps faster.
“I have a Skill that’s a match for your spell, boy.”
The man who pushed Pisces backwards was no Drowned Man, but a Human, heavily tattoed on his face and arms. He cut at Pisces, making the mage duck and weave. Pisces muttered under his breath as he took five rapid steps backwards, flashing across the length of the deck.
“Rise, rise unto me—”
He cried out as the man cut his arm with a slash from his offhand. He had a dagger to match with his blade. Now the man stood, sword in one hand, dagger in the other. He beckoned with the dagger at Pisces, challenging.
“I see your bell. Shall we have a duel of it, mage from Wistram?”
Pisces grinned wildly as he cast a spell without words.
“If you want to try, be my guest.”
They spun away, each attempting to catch the other. Pisces leapt from the railing of his ship towards another one. He landed on the deck and the man followed, laughing. The pirates had butchered the crew of this ship and only the dead remained.
“Nowhere to run!”
“No. There isn’t.”
—-
Ceria saw Pisces jump, but she could do nothing to help him. She was fighting for her life. It seemed like there was a wall of blades around her. She expected at any moment to be run through, but fought for every second.
Two ships, now. The third was dead in the water, Pisces and the other pirate the only living souls aboard. Ceria saw the other ship approaching, and realized they were coming to help. But more pirate ships were all around, and they were trying to board the other ship. Ceria saw one ship coming dead on, attempting to ram—
“To port! Hard port!”
Someone screamed that. Ceria saw the pirate ship turn, but too slowly. She gaped as a huge blade of ice sudden crashed into the ship, a vertical guillotine that cut the entire vessel in two.
“What was that?”
The attackers stopped their assault as they turned to look. The pirate ship broke in two and began to sink. Ceria turned towards the railing and her heart stopped as she saw a familiar figure, skating across the waves.
Illphres. The ice mage froze the very sea around her as she dashed across the ocean. She moved faster than anything Ceria had ever seen on land, leaving a trail of disintegrating ice as she spun in the air and landed, skating backwards towards another vessel.
From her hands came ice, massive pillars of it that crashed into another pirate ship and broke the wooden hull. Illphres turned, and a wall of ice formed in front of her as one of the pirate mages blasted her. She raised a finger and hit him in the chest with a spike of ice.
“Mage!”
Ceria heard an incredible roar and turned to see the pirate leader. He was on his ship and it turned incredibly fast towards Illphres. Archers shot at her as she raised a second wall of ice to block them. Calmly, Illphres sent a second scything ice blade to cut apart the pirate leader’s ship.
The ice broke as it struck the hull of the black ship. Ceria, ducking back and throwing fire, saw Illphres pause and heard the captain roar.
“I sailed through storms that have sunk islands, mage! My ship and I are one! I am a [Storm Captain]! Come and fight me if you dare!”
