The Last of the Firedrakes (The Avalonia Chronicles Book 1)

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  The next month was filled with grueling days with the professors and even more grueling nights with Rafe, training to be a warrior. Besides learning to fight with a sword, he taught me to use knives in a fight, one in each hand, and I was getting better at throwing them. I hardly slept, but I pushed myself. I had to discover what I was capable of and what my limits were.

  On top of my regular classes, which were four a day and one hour each, I also had an hour with Professor Dekela when we discussed politics of the kingdom, etiquette of the court, and the royal families. The professor told me about the jealousies and the rivalries between the various noble families, the histories of these families, and their role in the government of the country. We also discussed the Mage Guild, the royal council consisting of the lords of Eldoren; the council of thirteen in Illiador; their duties, qualifications, and who they were; and what families and factions they were loyal to.

  He also told me a lot about Morgana and Lucian. “Know your enemy,” Professor Dekela said countless times.

  So I had to study Morgana’s life thoroughly. I learned that Morgana was born a few years after my father’s mother, Queen Fiona, died. Driven by grief, the old King of Illiador, my grandfather, Ereneth, married again, this time to a woman he barely knew. Her name was Lilith.

  “Morgana is the daughter of Lilith?”

  Professor Dekela nodded. “Yes. But Lilith was no ordinary woman. Your grandmother, Fiona, was gentle and kind, as well as a powerful mage and healer. But Lilith . . . well, Lilith was not what she seemed at first. Your grandfather was captivated by her beauty and married her without thinking. When Morgana was born, Lilith’s true nature became clear. She plotted and schemed against her own husband and was even partly responsible for the last mage war.”

  “No one has mentioned her in my history class.”

  “Well, history is not always accurate. Lilith orchestrated the whole thing from behind the scenes, providing information and money to help their cause. If the Black Mages had succeeded in taking Illiador, she would have killed your grandfather and taken the throne for herself. But finally the king realized what she was about and ordered her to be arrested. She flew into a rage and tried to kill your grandfather. It was Azaren who stopped her, and she tried to kill him too. Azaren had no choice but to defend himself and end Lilith’s life.”

  Realization dawned, and my eyes widened. “That’s why Morgana hates my father and me so much. My father killed her mother.”

  Professor Dekela nodded gravely. “Now, let’s get back to your studies, shall we?”

  Three times a week I had extra healing with Penelope in her private rooms. She taught me higher levels of healing than were usually taught to the novices. Penelope showed me how to heal myself from the inside, which would help me shake off the effects of magical strikes. I had already done this unintentionally when Damien and his goons attacked me, but now I knew exactly what I was doing. I learned how much power to use to heal myself without dropping my shield. I also learned about special fae herbs and potions that were Penelope’s particular gift. I absorbed everything like a sponge, and I seemed to have a natural affinity for healing, becoming rather good at it.

  Six times a week I had very strenuous lessons with Professor Tanko, who, although formidable in the regular classes, was jovial and friendly in our private lessons. I also found out that he was a very dear friend of my father’s. I wished I could tell him who I really was, but Penelope had warned me that we still didn’t know who to trust. And Aunt Serena was still very angry with me for telling Vivienne.

  Professor Tanko taught me how to perform and block stun strikes, crush strikes, fire strikes, and lightning strikes. I practiced my basic push strikes until I could control the intensity of my striking power.

  Soon I could hit a moving target with my lightning strikes. And after every session, I had a whole host of game in a heap at my feet, which was sent to the kitchens on Professor Tanko’s orders.

  I was becoming stronger both physically and magically. Even with the amulet on, my powers were resilient. The professor would also make me run for two hours every day in the woods on the outskirts of the city of Neris to build up my stamina and strength.

  “Your powers are strong, Rory,” said Baron Tanko one day, as we were resting after an extremely strenuous lesson. “I can understand now why the mastermage wanted you to have extra lessons. It’s not that you are lagging behind, but in fact you are too strong. And with powers like yours, learning to control them is very important.”

  I still wore my amulet at all times. I thought it would diminish my power, but it didn’t feel like it. My strikes were fast and powerful, and my shields were strong. Could I really have more power than this? Was it even possible for one person to possess so much power?

  Uncle Gabriel said that people were afraid of fae-mages. It sounded absurd that anyone could be afraid of me. But I was definitely getting curious about how much power I really had, and many times I contemplated taking off the amulet just to see what I could actually do.

  Professor Tanko went on talking. “There is a very important lesson I want you to learn, Rory.”

  I listened intently. I was determined to be the best, and I would have to be if I wanted to achieve anything at all.

  “Learning to control the intensity of your strikes is one thing, but what I want to teach you now is considered High Magic and only taught in the third and fourth years at the academy. Normally a mage of your age would not need to learn this technique yet, as their powers are still not strong enough to kill a person with their strikes.”

  “Kill,” I gasped. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

  “I should hope not,” said Baron Tanko, looking amused. “In any case, the lesson here is, how do you know if your strike can wound a person or kill him? What I am trying to say is that the intent behind your strike is as important as the intensity of the strike itself. A powerful lightning strike can kill a man if the intent is to kill. But you can perform a lightning strike that will temporarily paralyze your opponent if you so intend. The same goes for fire strikes. A novice would only be able to cause a slight burn when he or she performs a fire strike. But a fully trained mage can burn a man alive with it. Or he could only scorch somebody, depending on the intent. These strikes not only work against people, but on objects as well. A small fire strike can light a candle, but a strong one could burn down a house. This is the reason students are not allowed to use strikes outside classes. A wrong strike with wrong intent can cause severe damage.”

  I nodded, understanding dawning. Professor Dekela was preparing me for anything, not just for the school tests.

  I still met Rafe every night and practiced everything I had learned so far. In the time that we spent together, we talked about so much. I told him all about my childhood, my adoptive parents, how they died, and my life with the Darlingtons. Rafe also opened up a little, and I got glimpses into his life as a boy and his relationship with his parents. He told me amusing stories about his younger years and spoke very fondly about many of his friends. I got a sense that he didn’t really get along with his family, but he still never told me who he really was.

  On occasion, Rafe would take me down to a secluded area of the docks, in the early hours of the morning, while the city was asleep, and I would haul boxes and crates onto a wagon, lifting them with magic. This sort of magic required a lot of precision and strength, and Rafe explained that exercising my magic was as important as exercising my muscles. I would leave my nightly classes exhausted and with barely any energy to eat, and fall into my bed.

  Still, I was happy spending so much time with him, and my heart yearned for him to feel the same about me, but I was never really sure of his motives for helping me. And every time I thought that he might have feelings for me, he reminded me that he had a debt to repay my father.

  So I tried to push him from my thoughts and immersed myself in my studies. I spent my free time at the library reading the histories of Avalonia
and the politics and societies of all the seven kingdoms. I memorized the names of the kingdoms and their rulers, the names of the noble families, what they did, and who they were. I learned about the different guilds, the merchants and artisans, and how they sold and traded. Where all the main trading ports were, what cities and towns sold what, how many shops they had, and the prices of certain tradable items. I even spent hours poring over maps of the seven kingdoms and making extensive notes.

  Professor Dekela was going to be giving me a test, and I intended to be ready for that so I could prove to him and everybody else that I was ready for anything. After all, I was supposed to be the most powerful being in all the seven kingdoms: a fae-mage with unlimited magic. If I didn’t prove myself now and be the best, how could I ever hope to run a kingdom and be queen?

  The First Test

  The garden cafeteria was a gaggle of voices and chattering students. Autumn had arrived early, and stray brown and burnished gold leaves scattered beneath the soles of the students’ boots. I couldn’t believe it had been only three months since I had come to Avalonia, and I had finally regained a sense of belonging that had disappeared when my adoptive parents died.

  Professor Dekela strode into the garden; his very presence was enough to quiet the cafeteria. His dark eyes flashed, stern and commanding.

  “As some of you may know,” he started in a strong, calm voice, “over the next few days we will be having our annual tests. All the students enrolled at the academy must pass these examinations if they want to proceed with their magical education.”

  Immediately, the chattering and whispering started in full force, like a wave rising and breaking against the shore.

  “Please be quiet,” said Professor Dekela, an exasperated look on his face.

  One of the teachers handed the mastermage a sealed scroll.

  “I will post this on the information tree,” said Professor Dekela. “Everybody please check the time and place of your tests. If you don’t show up on time, you will fail at that subject.”

  The night before the first tests, I met Rafe in our usual place and he presented me with a pair of beautiful jeweled daggers.

  “Because every queen needs a set of these,” Rafe said, smiling when he gave them to me. “And they can be easily concealed.”

  “And how do you know what every queen needs?” I asked, trying to sound stern but suppressing a smile.

  Rafe’s eyebrows arched upward, and he grinned. “Do you really want to know?”

  I shook my head and laughed. “No, not really. Thank you so much, Rafe.” I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “They are beautiful. I love them.” This time I didn’t ask where he got them.

  He hugged me back. “Also not stolen, in case you were wondering.”

  I swatted him on his arm. “Not funny.”

  “I thought it was.” Rafe was still chuckling as we made our way back to the school before dawn broke.

  When the day of the first test arrived, I was very nervous. I barely managed to stuff a piece of bread into my mouth as Vivienne accompanied me to the testing area.

  The south field was splendidly decorated. Marquees and stands were set up to form a rectangle, and in the middle an open space loomed—the arena. Four tents were set up in the middle of the testing arena, which I presumed was the place the first test was to be held.

  When I went to the professor to give him my name, I realized to my utter horror that Damien and I had been teamed together for the first test—healing.

  I had no idea what I was up against, and having Damien on my team was not reassuring. What were the teachers thinking? They knew better than to team Damien and me together. Everyone knew about our enmity. I just hoped he behaved himself while the examinations were on.

  “I hope you know what you are doing,” said Damien rudely, as he strode past me into the arena. “I don’t want to lose because some amateur forgot how to do things.”

  “You’re the one who needs to keep up,” I retorted and turned my face.

  Professor Dekela strode in as everyone lined up.

  “Let the test begin,” boomed Professor Tanko’s resounding voice.

  Healing was the first test. There were four tents, one each for different levels of magic. We had to go in the tents provided and create a remedy for the patient in the tent who had been poisoned.

  We waited for our turn.

  Damien came over to stand next to me. “We’re up next.”

  Finally it was our turn, and Damien and I went into the tent. A pale girl was stretched out on the bed. Her head was sweaty, and her face was deathly white.

  “She has been poisoned by hemlock,” stated Damien in his usual, irritating know-it-all manner. But he was wrong; healing was not Damien’s strongest skill.

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said, checking the patient. “I think it is more subtle than that.”

  I felt the girl’s head. She was burning with fever, her eyes were closed, and her breathing was faint at best.

  “I think it’s a poisonous mushroom, but not just any mushroom. It seems to be the deadly Andrysian mushroom called the Shadow of Death,” I said finally. “Look at the purple tint around her lips.”

  Damien thought for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. After all, you are from Andrysia.”

  I was surprised that he agreed with me so easily. I’d thought I would have a fight on my hands.

  “Well, that is an easy remedy to make, then,” he said, full of himself. He went about making the concoction. I wondered what he was doing. It didn’t look right.

  My brow furrowed. “I don’t think you should add any more of the purple dragon flower seed. The girl could die.”

  “You dare to question me?” said Damien, smirking. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  A professor was standing quietly in the corner. Only inspecting, no advising. I was alone. Damien had confused me, made me think I was wrong when I was so sure that I had been right. I remembered studying this with Penelope.

  Damien spooned the mixture into the girl’s mouth. Instantly she started turning white, and her breathing became even more labored.

  “She’s dying,” I said aghast. It was as I expected. Damien had made the wrong antidote.

  Even the old professor looked worried when I glanced over at him, but he offered no words of help.

  Damien looked confused. “But it was such a simple remedy,” he said to himself. “Maybe you were right about the purple dragon flower seeds.” He started to look panicked. “What do we do now? You’re supposed to be such a good healer, heal the girl! What are you waiting for?”

  That made me lose all concentration, and I could feel the fear rushing in. What if I were wrong? What if I made the wrong remedy and the girl died?

  I had to take a chance; time was running out. I mixed the herbs together as I had been taught. Everything I needed was there in the little kit that had been provided in the tent. Damien stood there, doing nothing to help.

  “If you are wrong, she could die,” said Damien. “Not that it really matters. She is a peasant girl and of no consequence.”

  I faltered for a moment before I pulled myself together. I wasn’t going to let him get to me. And I wasn’t going to let the girl die either, peasant or not. A life was a life, and everyone deserved to be treated the same. I knew what I had made was right. I poured some of the liquid down the girl’s throat and waited. Her breathing was still hardly visible, but soon her eyelids fluttered slightly.

  The professor came and checked the patient. He smelled the contents of the liquid cure that I had made and then took the girl’s pulse, but she was still not waking up.

  “This is correct for the first poison,” said the professor, “but I am afraid your partner here administered another poison into her blood. We must call in Professor Plumpleberry to heal her, or she will surely die.” The professor looked extremely worried and left the tent.

  Did that mean we ha
d failed the test? Damien smirked at me, but his eyes looked worried. What if Penelope did not get here in time? I hadn’t seen her in the arena. What if the girl died before she could be healed? I thought about it, and if Professor Plumpleberry could heal the girl, then it could be done. I had to try something; her life was in my hands.

  I placed one of my palms on the girl’s head and one over her heart. I closed my eyes and concentrated, just how Penelope had taught me.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Damien. “Do you really think you can heal her with just your powers? Only the professors know how to do that. You will wear yourself out before you can even begin.”

  I shut out Damien’s voice and concentrated. I could feel the faint heartbeat of the girl, and I concentrated on my own power source. I pushed some of that power into the girl through my palms and went about searching for the poison. It was easier than I had imagined at first, but soon my power started to fade. I could feel the amulet working, making me ordinary. My mage powers were not enough. I needed more to heal this girl.

  I searched around me. I could feel magic in the air and under my feet buried deep in the earth. In fact, now that I was looking for it, I felt magic all around me, not just within me. I pulled some of it into myself and pushed it through my hands and into the girl.

  I knew instinctively that I was using fae powers instead of mage, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered right now was that the girl lived. I pushed more power into the girl, and the blue-white light spread through her body like a forest fire, expelling and destroying the poison and cleaning her blood.

  It was done.

  I opened my eyes, and so did the girl.

  Damien stared at me incredulously. “How did you do that?”

  I was shocked at myself. What had I done? I had used fae magic. I was sure of it. Had I revealed myself? Did Damien know?

  The tent flapped open, and in strode the old professor and Professor Plumpleberry. Penelope immediately went to the girl and checked her thoroughly. When she was finished, she turned and smiled at me, but her eyes narrowed. “It seems I am not needed after all.”