Wings on my Back

by Alex Sapegin

  Simple mages, either humans, elves or orcs, saw the spells they and other mages used in true vision as a beam of light, glowing figures or flashes of color, sometimes as a simple drawing or outline in the air. Dwarfs, by virtue of their nature, would see a little more than others and in their eyes spells looked like an intricate pattern imbued with the play of electrical flashes.

  Andy, in his human form, saw magic as lace. Simple spells were something like simple macrame. The complex ones looked like the work of an experienced lace-weaver. And magic took on an intricate three-dimensional pattern only when he was in his true form, filled with depth and a wide color palette. Places of overlap glittered with the austere beauty and elegance of the lines of energy.

  A cold wind blew. So refreshing! Now if only someone would bring me some hot cider and gave me a good back scratch.

  A tall woman in the strict blue camisole of a master appeared on the opposite balustrade. The mage’s long dark hair with threads of gray throughout were combed back and tied together with a silver string. She had a long face and light blue eyes with slight wrinkles on either side, eyes that revealed her strong analytical mind. Right now they were tenaciously examining the hall below. Her narrow, aristocratic nose completed the picture. You could tell she was a blue-blooded woman with a straight, quietly self-assured posture. Men flocked to such a woman like moths to a flame. If Andy and Rigaud immediately noticed her and stared, pupils dilated, eyebrows raised, mouths open, one could only guess how more experienced men reacted to her presence. Did she even know the word “no”? Judging by the boys’ postures, apparently not.

  There was a strange rustle to the right. There don’t seem to be any sharp objects around—what’s made Timur deflate like that? Audibly exhaling through his nostrils, Timur tried to squeeze himself into the soft upholstery of an armchair. Weird fellow! Crawl under the chair and remain inconspicuous, if you’re so afraid. So, a lady’s standing on the balcony across from us? She’s looking at us, not chasing us away! Andy cocked his head to the side like a parrot and took another look at the unknown woman. Her aura glowed with hidden strength and calm that would make the calmest boa constrictor jealous. She obviously had nerves of steel. When she looked at their group, pink sparkles of interest and a carefully hidden curiosity crept into the aura. That’s fine. We can relax a bit. She’s not going to beat us up.

  The lady took a few steps towards them. Timur jumped, but confused which foot he wanted to start with, fell face-first at the foot of the chair and tried to say something, but only managed a muffled gurgle. The “cubs” across from the hyperactive Timur froze on their spots like pillars of salt, not even daring to breathe. They had obviously recognized the woman. Wow! The lady in the blue camisole is quite amused! Her aura is pink with laughter but her face is as if sculpted from marble—not a muscle moved. That’s hardcore.

  Standing up from his chair, briefly bowing to the “blue suit” and making an apologetic face, Andy began picking Timur up off the floor. In a few seconds, the dear boy was once again right side up with his feet under him and, despite a few lame attempts to resist, placed in the chair. The woman’s aura is glowing with all colors of the rainbow. Yep, she’s having a hard time. Laughing out loud is against the rules for her. Oops! Her eye just twitched.

  Snapping in front of the girls’ faces and giving Rigaud a light friendly punch yielded no clear effect. The strange friends hadn’t flinched after half a day of surprises, and now all of a sudden they had all caught the same epidemic. Andy understood right away that the woman was the cause of their extreme agitation, but who was she? Timur once again tried to say something.

  “T… tran… rec… mage…,” he stuttered and mumbled beyond understanding.

  “Tran… tran. Etran?! The rector! Oh my gods!” Andy exclaimed internally.

  “Rhetoric comes in quite handy sometimes, young man,” the master interrupted Any’s thoughts in her soft alto, creeping up behind them and stopping a couple of meters from the chairs the group was occupying. The rector looked at Timur and shook her head. Timur squeaked and sat speechless like the rest of the gang, staring at the golden buttons on the rector’s camisole. Hmmm… yeah, definitely an epidemic.

  “Exactly, for one mustn’t burden the tongue with the yolk of silence,… oh, excuse me!” Andy apologized for being rude. Definitely better not get THAT person angry. She might sign an order to expel them from the School. That’d be it, their whole education would be over with in one day. Is it worth getting in to be kicked out? He’d better hold his tongue. It couldn’t hurt to be a tad more polite. Considering his friends’ reaction to seeing the rector, her reputation preceded her as an important, influential player, a “big dog.” The guys weren’t entirely from the backwoods, meaning they’d recognized her, which couldn’t be said for Andy! His first impression of the situation had turned out to be wrong. Apparently, he’d get a beating for this later on, hopefully just punches, no kicks.

  “And you are…?” the rector looked at Andyi inquisitively.

  “Kerrovitarr,” he answered. “You can address me without my title; it’s even better without a title.”

  “… Kerrovitarr without a title,” the rector repeated, rolling the r’s, with a malignant laughter in her eyes. “Are you turning the masters’ area into a lounge?”

  Masters’ area? I had no idea. They should have put up a sign: “Entry Prohibited.” It wasn’t marked at all… meaning… come on in!

  “I’m trying out a future master’s chair,” Andy couldn’t stop himself. You idiot! The rector lifted her right eyebrow and looked the honest gang over skeptically.

  “And your companions as well?”

  Judging by the “cubs’” faces, they would have liked to be somewhere far away, preferably underground, not serving as Andy’s companions in occupying the forbidden chairs.

  “I’m conducting a guided excursion for these, my pupils, called ‘how nice it is to be a master!’ They don’t realize how good it would be. Why don’t you tell them! There’s light, free, cool, soft furniture and no flies biting us, like down there,” Andy gestured towards the mob and pandemonium below.

  What am I doing? This won’t end well. She’ll flatten me in a second. I’ve been trying not to ask for trouble all day, and now this! Boy, does my back itch! My skin’s about to break. I’ve gotta get out of town tomorrow. No, today! Molting really is a big deal. My second hypostasis made itself known by this terrible disarray and complete lack of brakes. I’m careening out of control! As if that weren’t bad enough, I’m itching all over and my teeth hurt. My body is dying to begin to change and get rid of the irritation. The ugly scars covering my back and sides seem to have a life of their own and are trying to squirm; I can’t describe my condition any other way. Elbows feel good, but not when jabbed into my side. The bruises from them, I’m sorry, will remain.

  “And what do you think? Do you like them?” the rector continued to probe. “Have you tried any others? For example, the chair of a future School Rector?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m aiming for,” Andy responded. Master Etran again raised her right eyebrow in a silent questioning expression. She didn’t have a wealth of facial expressions, apparently. But oh how her aura sparkled! One could go blind from it. “Don’t even ask. We’re not fools! Occupying the seat of any position, in my opinion, means assuming complete responsibility for not only all the rights associated with it, but the obligations as well!” (There was an approving nod.) “I’m not prepared to sit in a rector’s chair. And why would you be worried about that? Please excuse me for the very forward question.”

  The rector choked on the words she had prepared. Does she have the same speech teacher as Timur? A shadow of confusion flashed across her face for a fleeting second, then disappeared.

  “Well, you’ve got a lot of nerve, young man. You say one thing, but you were sitting—slouching—in the rector’s chair!” Laughter danced in her eyes. Feeew, I’ll survive! The rector’s in a good mood! The co
nflict is deescalating. That’s how, in practice, to confirm the postulate on boldness, which is said to be the second happiness. Sometimes having a lot of nerve gets you places!

  “How did it feel?”

  Oh no, madame rector, you’re attacking the wrong guy. I started out playing the fool, and I’ll keep it up!

  “Something’s missing,” he said, vaguely wiggling his fingers.

  “What, exactly? In what way weren’t you satisfied sitting in the rector’s chair?” the master smiled.

  “The Tiron red, aged ten years. A superb taste! It would complement your chair so well, Rector Etran,” Andy bowed eloquently, not subserviently, to the rector and received a slight nod and a slight grin in return. Bingo! When you have a chance, take it! Strike while the iron’s hot! It’s a tried and true method. “As I understand it, you’re about to give a welcoming address to the new students and a short instruction on behavior within the School walls, the rules?” The rector nodded, eyes gleaming mischievously. “Please don’t take this as me being too bold, but may I ask permission to stay on the balustrade? We’ll sit very quietly, and from here we can hear better, which means we’ll remember the rules better!”

  “Quite bold, indeed,” the rector called Andy out. For the first time in the whole exchange, she actually smiled. “Take your salt pillars and head towards the corner, towards the far wall, or the masters and professors will be quite surprised at the new addition to their group. Look, here they come.”

  Bingo again. We’ve not only been let live, we got a bonus.

  At a waltzing pace, Andy herded the gang from their places over to the far corner. As soon as they got settled, the rector’s speech began.

  The rector’s well-trained, strong voice, made even stronger by magic, required silence in the room. The din in the hall quieted as if someone had waved a magic wand. All present strained their eyes upward. By the time the rector actually started speaking, there were 500 people in the hall.

  The welcome address wasn’t particularly outstanding and no talking hats came on the stage. No one sat on a stool. The rector simply congratulated the students on successfully completing the entrance “trial” and that from here on out, they would face many more trials. May the gods and the One God be with them that they should pass them all so easily as today’s.

  After Etran’s brief speech, there was a ceremony of introducing the professors, which included a detailed explanation of each one’s qualifications. A short description of all the magical disciplines studied at the School took up the dragon’s share of the time.

  The last item on the agenda was going over the rules and a short explanation of life in the dormitories.

  The first rule was that all newcomers must reside in the dorms, no exceptions. Everyone had to be moved in by three days from now when classes started. Personal four-legged transport could be parked in the School stables where they would be looked after properly, but this service was not free. No one would shovel droppings for free.

  The second rule was on the required general courses in the first semester. The breaking down of course topics into dark and light began the second semester.

  The third rule forbid the use of class divisions and the use of titles within the School walls. This and the first rule went hand in hand and this rule had deep historical roots. The times of civil war after the fall of the Empire of Alatar required people to prepare as many mages as possible in order to support the armies. After all, whoever had the magical advantage was almost always guaranteed victory in small and large battles. Not only that, battlemages were hewn down like so many ears of corn. Those in power decided very deliberately that the children of the lower classes should be educated in this way too, which necessitated a change in the structure of the interpersonal relationships in educational institutions. Puffed-up nobles and downtrodden serfs were of no use in the armies. The armies needed mages that were fully educated and prepared for battle. Class differences were erased during training of future soldiers of the magical armed forces. This rule was rigorously enforced. As often happens, this became a tradition that long outlived those civil war soldiers who perished for their cause.

  The fourth rule was that all students had to wear the School’s uniform and green blazer. As with the previous rule, this removed class barriers. No one could tell whether you were a count or a potter when everyone was dressed alike.

  The fifth rule forbid duels and fighting of all sorts, physical and magical. Anyone caught dueling would be expelled without trial. Family ties or influence would not help. This School had precedents and it wasn’t worth it to receive the sad fate of those blacklisted.

  Finally, the list of instructions came to an end, and everyone present was invited to go to the square in front of the faculty towers where they would now hold the solemn ceremony of the bestowing of student badges. Andy couldn’t begin to imagine how they would organize that. Another ridiculously long line moving like a conveyor belt? And why didn’t they have us all gather on the square to begin with?

  Andy and company waited until the masters had left the balustrade, and the rector, who was the last to leave, gave them the signal by a wave of the hand, then quickly followed them down. Andy very soon got his answer. The square was decorated with flags and the coats of arms of the various faculties. Sophomores were standing to each side of the path in their dress School uniforms with gold aiguillettes and epaulettes on their left shoulders. Andy couldn’t help but notice it looked really amazing on the girls. Each new student who stepped onto the square was lined up with one of the second-year students, who held out a pillow upon which laid the School badge. Andy was paired up with a female student. It was a tall, shapely Rauu. He became boiling mad when he caught the look she gave him. There was no mistaking it. The Rauu indifferently looked past the others who walked out onto the square, but as soon as he appeared at the end of the path, she adroitly slid in front of a dark-haired guy, who was shocked that she was so bold, and stood next to Andy. There’s the first sign of what we had talked about with count Staro. No need to see a fortune teller—she obviously came for you. God, she’s pretty. And just as dangerous. A cobra in elf’s clothing. Andy glanced at the elf girl who was standing to his left. She was pretending to be completely indifferent. Your aura gives you away. Put on a stone face all you want. What’s your problem, anyway? Come on, out with it already.

  Their short walk along the square came to an end. The new entrants and the sophomores were divided into pairs standing across from one another. Hundreds of brand new students and hundreds of bookworms holding pillows. In the light of the Heavenly Sisters and the setting sun, Andy caught a glimpse of the tattoo on her forehead. Well now—that’s something! A priestess of Nel! She’s a future priestess of the goddess of Life. Interesting…

  The elf said something and looked at him harshly. What? She’s been totally brainwashed, hasn’t she? Priestesses study the Younger Edda from childhood. The words soon took on meaning for him.

  “Vile cur. Vilomiel forbade us to touch you. You should be happy about that, but not for long. We’ll find a way to be rid of you!”

  Nuts to you! I’ll show you what’s what.

  “A priestess of Nel shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts of revenge. Vilomiel is a forward-seeing man; he made the right conclusion based on our conversation. Don’t do anything stupid, priestess. You’ll regret it,” Andy responded, also in Edda.

  Hearing the language of the Younger Edda come out of the mouth of a vile mix blew the elf’s mind. Surprise!

  “It doesn’t matter,” the elf quickly recovered from her shock. “I’ve come to warn you.” There was a short command from the master of ceremonies, and the sophomores took the badges from their pillows. Triumphant music was playing. “Watch your back. A Snow Elf might be there when you least expect it!” There was a second command from the master of ceremonies and the sophomores simultaneously put the badges on the newcomers’ clothes. The kettledrums sounded. “You’re safe here, but no one’s
forbidden duels outside of the School’s walls. I’d like to see what color your rank blood is. Many of us would like….” A light tap with her slender finger on the badge and a green light radiated from the device. That was it. From now on, the badges were tied to their one owner; no one else could put them on. “… to get to know you better.”

  Fireworks shot up into the sky and exploded over the faculty towers. Nice touch. But not nice enough; I’m in a bad mood now. I’ve just been told straight-up that I better be ready to answer for the scene I made. The Icicles don’t have statutes of limitations, apparently. They would challenge you to a duel twenty, even a hundred years later. Great. Just like them to want to get back at me like that. I’ll have to constantly watch my back, unless of course I find a way to leave this world altogether and go home. Elves live long, and just when an old human decides it’s time to forget about his past, they show up and remind him. Boy, do they remind him. And in front of all his children and grandchildren, too, so that they’d take the lesson to their graves! They would make sure it had a psychological effect. Then people would be even more afraid to enter into contact with the Icicles. The jerks, jerks, jerks! So nasty inside. No one in his right mind will take my side on this. The stupid long-eared b… beauty sure can get her point across. I’ll have to be careful what I say and where I go. Daddy Karegar warned me: “Watch what you say. You can lose your head over one careless word.” Sorry dad, I didn’t listen. But for now, I’d better find a tutor pronto and study fencing as much as I can! The lessons I got from Gmar back in the valley would have only been good for fighting off attackers in a dark alley. In this world everyone’s learned to use a sword from the time they’re five or six years old. If only they’d challenge me to a “shoot out,” an archery duel. Then I’d be able to give my challengers a real pleasant surprise. The Rauu, like the Woodies, love to dominate the bow and arrow. It wouldn’t even occur to them that someone can shoot better than they can. Oh hopes, bare hopes… what’s the point in fantasizing?