by Taki Drake
The wolf’s mage was old now, very old. A long white beard and a semi-stooped posture were key indications of the passage of time. The perception of age was reinforced by a sense of immense power that emanated from the mage’s staff. In the previous two lessons, Dascha had seen the staff start as a rod and grow into an unusually shaped but unscarred short staff. At this point in time, the staff was taller than the mage and darkened with time and use. It glowed to magical sight with multileveled power, and felt warm to the touch.
There were other magic users and soldiers in the room. They were discussing placements and timings for the battle that was yet to come. The wolf knew that his mage would be situated someplace away from the actual battle lines, positioned where his magic could be best deployed.
There was a flash of sparkles as the scene changed. When the glittering cloud cleared, it was obvious that the view was later the same day. The mage and wolf, plus a pair of other guards, were standing in a protected alcove, with stone at their back and covering overhead. The mage had a clear view of the battlefield.
As the fighting raged back and forth in the pulsing chaos of deadly combat, the mage watched for a signal. The wolf was oblivious to the overall form of the battle. Instead, his senses were alert, and his mind focused on the protection of his magic user.
A red flag was waived in the command group down on the battlefield. Responding to the signaled request, his mage fired off multiple huge fireballs into the opposing army. Sixteen of the major spells were released, one after another, applied strategically and accurately. The impact was overwhelming. Each of the fireballs destroyed more than a thousand of the enemy soldiers. Calmly, the mage watched and targeted, contributing his unique efforts to the battle for his king.
The wolf was calm too. Dascha could feel no tension in the wolf’s mind, only alertness and willingness to do whatever was necessary to protect his mage. That alertness was rewarded when the wolf caught a slight scuffing of shoes that was the only warning before two black-clad assassins jumped into the protected area around the mage. Driving directly at the mage’s human protectors, one of the assassins quickly killed his target and moved toward the ancient mage only to be met by a slashing attack from the old wolf. While the other assassin fought the more senior guardsmen, the wolf feinted and dodged keeping the first assassin away from his magic user.
A sickly, sweet smell that screamed poison into the wolf’s brain made him cautious. As the short swords of the assassin slashed through the air, the still sharp senses of the wolf could see a discoloration on the edges and blade points. He knew better than to allow even the smallest nick from those doubly dangerous weapons. His delaying tactic lasted long enough. Over the top of the wolf, spinning discs of lethal grayness flew and smashed into the assassin reducing his upper body to shredded meat. The poisoned weapons dropped to the ground with ringing clarity, closely followed by the thud of the other assassin falling in defeat to the guardsmen.
The wolf immediately moved toward his magic user, detecting over the bond the level of exhaustion and frailty that the man did not want to display. Moving his hand down to the shoulder of the wolf, the magic user sighed in relief as a wave of power wrapped in caring slipped from the wolf back up to his mage along the wide well-traveled road of their bond.
The now familiar swirling minty lemon smell washed over Dascha’s brain and dissipated. She found to her bemusement that she was outside of the memshare lesson now. The old half blind wolf had ended the session and arisen to look out over the group.
<
Looking around her, Dascha could see that there would be no questions. Some of the familiars were looking confused, others looked overwhelmed. She thought it was a good place to stop, since her brain felt ready to explode at this point and she needed a break. The young black cat wasn’t sure about anybody else, but everyone looked too exhausted to complain.
<
<<<>>>
<
Jack responded saying, <>
<
Dascha responded, amusement explicit in her tone, <>
Kevin and TT both looked at her, considering what she had said. The others were a bit too wrapped up in their own drama and angst to pay her visible attention.
Kevin quietly suggested that they take turns and get something to drink and possibly something to eat. He didn’t think the next lesson was going to be as bad, but one never knew. Following his advice seem like the easiest thing to do.
Frank, Trey, and TT headed out first. Kevin glanced over at Dascha and said, <
Stinky just nodded his head, emphatically.
Chapter 10 – Practical Wisdom
The food break had been very important. All of them felt better with some time to stretch their legs, deal with biological needs of one form or another, and make sure that they were hydrated and fed.
Returning to the memshare area that they had occupied for the first lesson, the friends noticed that where they had sat related before had been kept empty. Apparently, where they had stayed for the first lesson was going to be available for them for the next lesson, too. Dascha thought to herself, With so much strangeness around even small patterns of repetition are comforting.
Settling themselves, more or less in the same order and arrangement that they had maintained for the first class session, they chatted idling among themselves while waiting for the next instructor.
It wasn’t too long before that instructor appeared. Wafting down on soft feathers and silent wings, a large barred owl landed in the middle of the polished stone area. Simultaneously with the owl’s landing, the lesson gong sounded once again. The bird waited until the tone had completed before stretching up and extending his wings to gain their attention.
Shaking his feathers and settling his wings back down, the owl turned his head almost in a full circle making sure to make eye to contact with each of the viewers.
<
Apparently done with any introductory comments, the owl settled down on the stone and stretched its wings and belly out to make more contact with the stone. Dascha quickly stretched out in turn, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. A familiar wash of sparkling confetti flooded her mind and senses. There was almost a detectable snap as her connection to the shared memory locked in.
It was immediately apparent that this sharing would be different than the first one. Where the wolf had been equally balanced among emotion, senses and thought, the balance that the owl brought to the lesson was different. Dascha was immediately pulled into the feelings and experiences of the owl’s body.
Soft air under her wings. The muted sounds of the night and the feeling on her feathers of the moisture in the air. It was a quiet night and she could feel a danger ahead as her mage stalked through the woods.
There! On the right! It was an attacker with a bow. Her mage was too close and could not see well in the dark. <
Fury and fright overwhelmed the owl, and she plunged toward the attacker talons outstretched, determined to wreak havoc. There was a confused exchange of rapidly moving arms, legs, and wings. Blood on her talons! Pain! A wing disabled, agony almost more than she could bear. A snap of the beak and the feeling of a severed finger. The scream of an attacker, satisfying at many levels.
The attacker was down, blood dripping slowly from a face ripped with her mighty talons, eyes staring blindly at the cloud-covered moon. At least her mage was safe.
Perhaps not! Across the mage bond came fear and pain. She could hear voices but could not force her body to respond quickly. Fear for her mage and anger at her failure to be there for him filled her craw with acid and tighten into determination.
The pain of getting airborne was far less than the pain in her heart. Agony embroidered the effort of gaining altitude with her injured wing. Forcing past the pain, the owl clawed her way back to her mage.
The scene that met her eyes was worse than she had feared. Two black-clad fighters faced her mage, held away from him in a stalemate. The mage had braced his back against a large tree trunk. Holding his staff horizontally to the ground in front of him, he was generating a protection field that kept the two assassins away from him. The magic user’s arms were visibly shaking. The owl could feel his exhaustion along the familiar bond and knew that he was close to breaking. Pushing as much energy as she dared across the bond into her mage, she felt him straighten and take a deep breath. Before the assassins could respond to the signs of increasing power, the crippled familiar flung herself from the tree branch and slammed into the back of one of the assassins. Knowing that she might be sacrificing her life for her mage did not cause her to hesitate. Her vicious talons and beak tore thru flesh and bit down on the back of the enemy’s neck. If she was going to die, she was going to take this one with her.
Peripherally, she could sense the other assassin as he spun in place and started to come at her with a knife. His rapid reaction left her little hope of living, but the assassin had made a critical error. He had taken his eyes off the mage.
Instantaneously, the magical shield dropped, and the mage’s staff was flipped so that the end touched the ground. Massive energy was pulled from the ground and into the mage. The staff had its protective spells exhausted, but the mage channeled a sizzling bolt of blue electricity directly through his hand and blasted the last assassin.
The fighter under the talons of the owl was dead. Blood soaked her feathers, and she was too weak to move. The other assassin was still alive. She could see his chest moving slightly and knew that his hands were trembling in an effort to do something, anything to complete the murder of her mage. She was just too tired, too exhausted to do anything.
She could feel her mage approaching and warned him as loudly as she could to flee or go away. He wasn’t listening to her. Loyalty ran two ways over their bond, and she had been willing to give her life for his. She could feel his determination to do no less.
The shaking and exhausted mage came up to the scene of their struggle. She was not sure what he could do since he had never had any weapons training. Desperation found a solution and the mage found the strength to take his eating dagger out of his belt and jammed it through the eye of the remaining assassin. The last thought the owl had before she slipped into the unconsciousness that her body craved was, at least he is safe.
The sparkling swirl that indicated the end of the lesson took Dascha by surprise. The emotion and the adrenaline that was attached to this lesson took longer to dissipate as the curtain of light waved back and forth. As it slowly disappeared, Dascha was still left with unanswered questions and the memory of angst. Perhaps that was part of the lessons of wisdom. That you never really forgot.
Dascha took one more deep breath and tried to relax. Her muscles were tense especially across her front paws and back, reminding her that in this lesson she had been flying. It was a strange feeling, one that she said certainly would not forget soon.
Once again, a sparkling wave was the only warning of the start of the second lesson. The entry into this one was just as abrupt as the first had been.
<
The owl flew a perimeter search in expanding circles. Flying high enough overhead that the soft wings of her flight gave no advance warning, the owl quickly found three parties converging on her mage. Totaling five people in all, neither the owl or the mage considered the situation serious, although both were proceeding with caution. There was always a chance that somebody was a ringer, or that there were more ambushers.
Dascha picked up the understanding that the mage and familiar knew the source of their attacks. It tasted a bit like the same group of enemies that had attacked in the first lesson, although Dascha could not be sure.
All of the attackers were dressed in black, the better to blend with the dark forest and moonless night. Sharing her sight with her mage, the owl mapped out exactly where the attackers were in their movement toward the mage. She also allowed her mage to see possible defensive areas for him to better stage the battle scene.
<
Rather than engage their enemy at a location that was not of their choice, the mage cast a small teleport spell that placed him a few feet away from the stone alcove. He quickly backed into the rock wall protection and cast two quick spells, one on either side of the opening, directly into the stone. Placing his staff firmly on the ground, he waited.
The owl continued to fly surveillance, watching as the attackers moved closer to her mage. He shared her vision, seeing the enemies’ positions change as he waited. The attackers were close enough that the mage could see the single fighter that was their point person. He knew from his familiar’s overwatch that the other four were split into two teams. One was approaching from his right and one from his left. Acting as if he were unaware of the placement of the rest of the attackers, the mage called out to the visible, black-clad fighter.
/> “Beware, minion of Artok, you trespass borders in violation of signed agreements. Be gone before I am forced to take punitive action.”
The response from the warrior was nonverbal. A jagged flying disc of death glistening with noxious chemicals flew toward the mage, only to be stopped short by an invisible wall. Rapid strikes of smaller thrown weapons appeared to define the edges of the protection to the satisfaction of the invaders.
Dashing to one side, the lead attacker threw himself onto the ground, attempting to find cover behind a small hillock. His movements were obvious and designed to hold the attention of the mage while his teammates got into position.
Without the aerial surveillance of his familiar, the mage might have been fooled into focusing on that attacker. However, a pulsed warning from the owl told him that the other two teams were moving up. The calm and disciplined response of the mage kept him centered and able to better maintain his defenses. His next action appeared to have no immediate response since a flash of magical energy down his staff into the ground appeared to dissipate.
At the same time, a spell was released from the left side alcove wall sending a large sphere toward the mage’s right. The sphere sliced its way through the trees and caught the two attackers of that team by surprise. Even the honed speed of their reactions was not enough to get them far enough away from each other to allow only one of them to be caught. The sphere grew and gobbled up both of them and then began to shrink. The membrane surface of the sphere showed the frantic movements of the captured invaders. The tough skin did not yield to futile slashes with weapons or panic-induced attempts to break out. The motion inside the sphere quickly stopped as the sphere compressed and crushed its captives. Finally, it dissipated into nothingness with a final puff of acrid air.
