“But remember,” she said, picking the eraser up off the ground and showing it to the class. “Sometimes being powerful does not make you better. A knife stuck in your back while you sleep is more effective than a powerful magical attack when you are prepared. Your enemies will not fight fair. They will do whatever it takes to destroy you. They will deceive, cheat, and steal their way to victory. You must be prepared for the powerful casters you will face, along with the knives aimed at your backs.”
2
Sara hiked her pack higher on her shoulder. Still feeling a little flushed from the duel, the cool Spring breeze felt good. It blew her long, straight hair wild, and she tried to brush a strand of it behind her ear. She’d heard people describe it as ‘Carnelian red,’ the color of some mineral, but Sara always thought of it as just fire engine red. Her and her sister had been born with the unnatural color, cluing their parents in to their deep connection to the Aether from an early age.
“I can't believe you sometimes, Sara. How do you maintain your grades when you barely pay attention in class?” Cora asked, shaking her head.
Sara noted with annoyance that her sister’s long hair was somehow not blowing everywhere. She looked at her mirror image of a twin and wondered if her own makeup was still in place, or if the duel had streaked it; she felt like she somehow always looked like a bad copy of her sister, even though they were identical except for eye color. The fact that Sara had blue eyes and Cora had green was another side effect of their deep Aether connection. Whose eyes were the original color and who had the Aether enhanced eye color was a constant debate between them.
Cora’s composure probably had to do with the fact that she never put herself in a position to be anything but her best.
Sara shrugged. “I guess I just follow your lead?”
“Don’t give me that shit. You don't follow anyone’s lead. If you followed mine, you would study and pay attention.”
Sara gave up on the piece of hair that kept falling out of place and said, “That’s true. You are a bit of a teacher’s pet; have been for the last twenty-six years. Well, twenty-six years minus the few before we started school. You know what I mean.”
Cora gave her a light shove. “I’m not a teacher’s pet. What are you, twelve? I work hard, and you should too. We have finals tomorrow, and that test is going to determine our ship assignment. We didn’t join the Navy and fight to get into the Academy just to be assigned to a freighter. I want the best and I expect you to step up and help me out, here.”
“I know, I know,” Sara said, waving a hand as if to shoo a fly. “At this point, I don't know what more I can do to please you. I already have top marks. If I didn't know any better, I would say you were jealous.”
“Sara, I’m not jealous. I’m concerned,” Cora said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. A few students had to dodge around her thinly muscled frame, but she didn't seem to notice. “Passing the final is only the beginning. The real test starts after we are assigned to a ship. Either you or I will oversee a crew of hundreds of people, and they will all be looking to us for direction. You can't just fake your way through that.”
Sara nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, I just found a spell that sounded really interesting. We’ve gone over the management material in Mrs. Dontis’s class at least a dozen times. I was bored.”
“Of course she’s gone over it a dozen times. The class is called ‘Aether Management 401’. If we have learned anything in this Academy, it’s that we need to know our shit if we’re going to win this war with the Teifen.”
Sara shrugged. “Sorry. I really am. You know how I get. My mind was wandering is all.”
Cora gave her a stern look, but started walking again, to the relief of the students that had backed up behind them on the busy sidewalk.
“So, what was this spell?” she asked, not able to help herself.
Sara smiled, “It’s a summoning spell. I didn't get to the actual spellform, but the text made it sound like the spell would not only summon a familiar, but also boost your power.”
Cora gave her a sidelong look. “This is a spell in the curriculum?”
They came to the main street that ran along the Naval Academy’s quad. The campus was an old one. Before the Elif had arrived, it had been just a small community college in a mid-sized Midwestern town, not a Naval Academy. In the past, a Naval Academy was on the coast by necessity—not in the middle of the country. But when the Navy moved from the oceans to the vastness of space, the placement of the Academies no longer mattered.
Sara pointed to the diner across the street. “Let’s grab a bite. I’m craving a burger and some Keffin fries.”
The town looked like it had been pulled from a fifties movie, old school cool at its finest. But only on the surface. Under the paved streets ran miles of new cabling and power management stations for the new fusion reactor that was installed to power the region. The arrival of the Elif had pushed humanity several hundred years into the future in only a few decades. They had gone from internal combustion cars to gravity manipulators in the span of one generation.
When the deals were made, it was understood that everything would be upgraded, including humanity itself, down to DNA structures. There is some debate if the Elif actually asked for permission to genetically enhance humanity, or if they did it and then “asked” later. There was a lot of confusion in the early days, before people began volunteering for the genetic manipulation that would activate their receptors to the Aether. Some even said the Elif had already made the changes through vapors sprayed into the atmosphere. Either way, humanity was soon learning of the power that an adept Aether user could wield, and most forgot to ask about the details. People were happy for the most part.
They pressed the button for the crosswalk, and Sara picked up the conversation as they waited for the light to change. “It’s definitely not in the curriculum. I took out a book on ancient spellforms from the library.” She pulled up the text on her tablet and handed it to Cora.
Cora started skimming the text, and the light changed. Sara pulled on her sleeve, guiding Cora across as she continued to read.
They entered the fifties-style diner and were greeted by Griff, the Elif proprietor.
“Hello, ladies. You can take a seat, and I’ll be right over,” he said, smiling in his usual, friendly manner.
Cora continued to skim the text as she followed Sara to a booth, and they both slid in. The place was pretty empty, being that it was the time between lunch and dinner.
Sara finally got impatient. “So, what do you think? I’ve never seen an Elif with a pet. It’s against their moral code, or something.”
“Mmm,” Cora grunted, continuing her study.
Sara began folding the corner of her paper placemat out of boredom. She smiled when she saw Griff come from behind the counter with two drinks in his hands.
“Diets all around,” he said, placing a soda in front of each of them. “Do you want your usual?”
“Mmm,” Cora said with a nod. She never took her eyes from the tablet.
“Sure, Griff. That would be great,” Sara said with a smile as she kicked Cora’s shin under the table.
“Ow! What the fuck? Oh, sorry, Griff. I didn't see you there.” Cora leaned down and rubbed her shin.
“Oh, that’s fine, Ms. Cora. Would you like your regular?”
“Oh, uh. Actually, I’ll just have a coffee, Griff. Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said, turning to put in the order.
Sara reached out and tapped him on the arm. “Excuse me, Griff, but could I ask you something?”
“Of course, Ms. Sara,” he said, turning and absentmindedly tugging on one of his pointed ears. It was a tic a lot of Elif had, similar to humans running their hand through their hair.
“Do the Elif have pets? I don't think I’ve ever seen an Elif with one,” Sara asked.
Griff flushed a little and shuffled his feet as he looked to the ceiling for words.
�
��I’m sorry. I hope that’s not inappropriate to ask?”
Griff waved her comment away, “Oh, no. It’s fine. We do have pets, but we prefer a particularly intelligent bird-equivalent from our homeworld called a Bobskin. They don't do so well in Earth’s heavy gravity and thin atmosphere. Early on, we tried bringing a few down, but the poor things were miserable not being able to fly. We thought it was cruel, so we left them on our ships.”
He looked up again with a serene look. “I was just thinking of Jirk.”
Sara’s face went blank as she rotated her head to look at Cora, who wore the same expression.
“I’m sorry, ‘Jerk’?” Cora said.
Griff nodded, memories flooding his mind. “Yes. That little Jirk was such a good companion. I had him for seventy years before he passed. I couldn't bring myself to get another Bobskin.”
“Uh, I’m sorry, there seems to be a breakdown in language, here. Are you saying the bird was a jerk? Or his name was Jerk?”
Griff cocked an eyebrow as he tried to understand what Cora was asking. His face turned a little red when it hit him, and he laughed.
“No, his name was ‘Jirk’.”
“Jerk?” Sara said, confirming.
“Jirk”
“Jerk.”
“Jee-irk,” he said, over pronouncing it to make the distinction. “It’s a traditional Elif name. The last emperor was named Jirk DeSolin, that’s where I got it.”
Sara's eyebrows rose slowly, “Your last emperor was named Jirk? That seems appropriate for a politician. Ow!”
She jumped, as it was Cora's turn to kick her under the table. Sara reddened at her comment, feeling bad immediately, but the Elif were mostly devoid of senses of humor, and it blew right over Griff’s head.
“Oh, yes. Very appropriate. His father was Jirkcof DeSolin, so of course he had to use the shortened version if he wanted to keep the name in the line.” He gave the twins a smile and, sensing the conversation was over—the girls seemed to be biting their tongues—turned to head back to the counter. “I’ll put your orders in and be back with your coffee, Ms. Cora.”
A strangled “Thank you, Griff” squeaked from Sara as he left.
They waited almost a full five seconds before muffling their laughter behind napkins stuffed to their mouths.
“I love that guy,” Sara said when she regained enough control to stop laughing. “He’s just so sincere.”
Cora wiped the tears from her eyes, trying not to lose too much mascara in the process. “Okay, so, this summoning spell,” she said, trying to get them back on topic.
“Right, the summoning spell. What do you think?”
Cora wiped at her eyes once more then turned them to the tablet. “It doesn’t have a spellform attached, and I can't find anything in the spellform directory the Elif provided. It also describes the animal companions as variations of four-legged predators, not birds.”
“What does that mean? There are mammal equivalents on the Elif homeworlds, right?” Sara was not as up to speed on the Elif as Cora.
“They do have little furry creatures, but no real predators,” Cora said, scanning ahead in the document.
“Oh, right, the Elif are the largest predators on their planet. What does being a predator have to do with the summoning?” Sara asked, sipping at her diet soda.
“It’s right here in the first paragraph,” her twin told her, turning the tablet around and showing Sara the passage. “It says the animal is a predator common in the region. Didn't you read this part?”
“I skimmed it. We were in class, I didn't want to miss what was being said,” she argued defensively.
Cora gave her a deadpan look.
“I mean, it didn't work out that way.”
“Regardless, I don't think this is an Elif spellform.”
Sara sat up leaning on her elbows, “Why do you say that?”
“Well. It’s too complicated. They don't think like this,” she said, pointing out a passage with the spellform’s description. “See, here it says the spellform is two forms, rotating one another. The Elif don't have anything like that anywhere in the directory.”
“Couldn't it just be an uncommon, more complicated spellform?”
Cora shook her head. “I don't think so. It’s just, I don’t know, not their style? This is a brute force spell, almost a binding or mending spellform, but it’s mixed with a healing form.”
Sara was quiet for a minute while Cora continued reading. She wanted to try it. She felt like it was the answer to a question she didn't even know she’d been asking. She would need Cora's help, though. Cora was the expert at spellform theory, not her. Sara could cast anything, but had trouble being creative with the geometric shapes.
“Could you design the spellform?” Sara asked, while taking a sip of soda. She didn't want to sound too eager.
Cora considered, “Probably. More than likely. The description is pretty good, but knowing the intention is the important part. It would have to be a binding, not a summoning…” She trailed off as she laid the tablet flat and pulled the stylus from the slot on the side and opened a sketch program.
Sara smiled as her sister began outlining.
A minute or two later, Griff returned with Sara's burger and fries, and Cora's coffee. He put a small pitcher of cream and a caddy of sugar down with the black brew.
“Griff, have you ever heard of mages having familiars?” Sara asked, looking up with a smile.
Griff stiffened ever so slightly, but recovered quickly. “Where did you hear of such a thing, Ms. Sara?” He said it like a mother asking a child where they had heard the word ‘sex’ for the first time.
“It was in one of the books in the library at the Academy. Why? Is it forbidden to talk about or something?” she asked with a chuckle, but Griff was not laughing.
“Well, I suppose not.” He looked around the diner, as if someone might overhear him, but it being between lunch and dinner the place was pretty empty.
He leaned down to the table and spoke in hushed tones. “In the first war, there were mages with animal companions, but they were rare. They called them War Mages. They had unspeakable power, and could take on armies, all on their own. At least those were the tales. My people feared their power and eventually had to turn on them to keep all Elifkind safe. At least, those are the stories. It’s been thousands of years since anything like that has happened.”
Sara just stared at the kindly diner owner. She’d forgotten that this man could be hundreds of years old and could have seen things she could only imagine. He looked uncomfortable, like he had said too much, and wrung his hands in his apron.
He finally broke the spell with a bright white smile. “Is there anything else, Ms. Sara?”
She gave her head a quick shake. “No, I’m good, Griff. Thank you.”
He gave them a nod and walked away with a quick step.
“That was odd,” Cora said, watching the retreating figure.
3
Sara and Cora changed into shorts and tee shirts and then settled down on the floor of their dorm room, the rug they had bought at a flea market warm and fuzzy beneath their legs.
Sara soon became full of nervous energy as Cora continued working on the spellform in silence. Not able to take the waiting anymore, Sara began the yoga routine she had memorized for just such moments of anxiety. It was nothing difficult, but it got her muscles moving and cleared her mind.
“Why do you always do that?” Cora said, not looking up from her tablet as she sketched yet another idea.
“You read, I do yoga,” Sara said from Warrior Three. She gave it a ten count then moved back to plank.
“I guess it’s the same. If you think sweating is the same as expanding your mind,” Cora retorted, a smirk distorting her words slightly.
Sara moved to Standing Triangle. “Just because you’re about as flexible as a steel rod doesn’t mean you have to make fun. I don’t call you a nerd for reading all the time.”
Cora dr
opped the tablet to the coffee table, her mouth hanging open. “You called me a ‘nerd’ ten minutes ago.”
Sara glanced through her legs at Cora, then, remembering that she had, in fact, called her a nerd, began to laugh, her form falling apart as she fell to the floor. “It’s just like a nerd to remember every word I say.”
A pillow hit Sara in the face.
“Get over here and help me. You’re the one that wants to do this,” Cora said, holding a second couch pillow in a threatening way.
Sara held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” She grabbed a local brewery’s Hefeweizen from the fridge, and rejoined her sister on the floor.
After several sketches and making notes where necessary, determining what Cora thought should go where on the complicated three-dimensional plan, they came to a spellform Cora thought most likely to be right. Unfortunately, there was no way to test the spellform without actually casting it. This was why spellform theory was so hard: nothing happened most of the time if the spellform was wrong. But, it was also possible to completely drain the Aether well of someone if the form was off, and that could cause coma or, in extreme cases, death.
“So, this would work? You think the spellform is stable?” Sara asked.
“More than likely, but I’m basing that assumption on what the book says. As far as I can tell, it’s a secondhand account at best. I think the author had the concept explained, but never actually cast the spell,” Cora said, looking over her sketches once again.
“But if there’s a description of the spellform, then I would assume he saw a mold of it, right?” Sara took a sip of her beer.
“Not necessarily. If he had a model, why not include it in the book?” Cora stretched her arms over her head, “I’m beat. I think I’m going to turn in. We have our final in the morning, so we should get a good night’s rest.”
Sara held up the half empty pint. “I’m going to finish my drink then head to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Genesis: War Mage: Book One (War Mage Chronicles 1) Page 2
