“Watch where you’re going, you… oh, the cripple,” a man said, his voice almost dripping vitriol. “What are you doing up here? Bad enough that you’re in the academy at all, but you even have to pollute—”
“Adept Jamis, hold your tongue!” Vrenne interjected, outrage apparent in her voice. “Ruethwyn is here by the express invitation of a royal knight, and has far more right to be here than you do.”
Ruethwyn managed to overcome the spikes of pain lancing through her body and looked up, blinking as she did so. Anger washed through her at the comments, anger that she quickly stepped on. Vrenne had her hands on her hips as she glowered at a lanky elven man standing in the doorway of a room, his brown hair halfway down his back and his brown eyes almost as hard as the teacher’s. The man must have opened the door just as Ruethwyn had been looking out the window. As she began to climb to her feet, the man gave Ruethwyn a derisive look.
“Her, summoned by a knight? Hah, he probably just wants to hear her little tale of woe. I swear, letting her into the academy will just hurt our reputation. She’ll never graduate,” Jamis said, sneering as he shook his head. “Now I have more important things to do than to play with a useless cripple, Master Vrenne. I have trials of mastery to prepare for.”
He turned and started down the stairs, slamming the door behind him. As he walked, the teacher opened her mouth to speak, her expression stormy, but Ruethwyn shook her head, speaking softly, despite her own rather… unpleasant feelings. Jamis could die in a fire for all she cared. “Please don’t bother. Not on my account.”
“It isn’t just for you, Ruethwyn. He disrespected me, as a teacher of the academy,” Vrenne replied, her gaze practically spitting fire. “Beyond that, your admission was confirmed by the headmaster himself!”
“Perhaps so, but he isn’t entirely wrong. I likely won’t be able to graduate with my… disability,” Ruethwyn said bitterly, leaning against the wall and closing her eye to rest for a moment. “I should’ve been watching more closely, too.”
“I’m still going to have words with his mentor later. His disrespect has no place in the academy,” Vrenne said, frowning as she asked, “Are you going to be okay, Ruethwyn? You hit the ground rather hard.”
“It was mostly that the door hit my old injuries, then I forgot I didn’t have another arm to catch myself with and they were hit again,” Ruethwyn admitted, shaking her head. The pain was duller now, which helped, so she continued as she got her emotions firmly under control. Turning her fellow students into ice statues or causing them to slip on the stairs wouldn’t help her any. “I’m feeling better now. Not perfect, but better. We can go see the knight now, should you like.”
“He’s waiting on the third floor, so we don’t have much further to go,” Vrenne said, frowning for a moment, then leading the way.
Ruethwyn pushed off the wall and followed, grateful that the woman had dropped the subject. Despite what she’d said, Jamis’s comments had hurt, and Ruethwyn appreciated the chance to get her roiling emotions under control. A tiny part of her hoped that he’d completely flub his trials, but that was the petty part of her speaking. Not that she’d mind if he did.
Still, she kept a closer eye on the interior walls of the tower this time, not wanting to be hit again. Why they’d chosen to have the doors open into the stairwell was beyond her.
Vrenne opened a door on the next floor and stepped inside, holding the door open as she spoke. “Hello, Sir Alaran. I’ve brought Apprentice Sylaris. Ruethwyn? This is Sir Alaran Whisperblade, Knight of Selwyn.”
The man in the room stood in response to Vrenne’s words, giving a half-bow as he did so, and Ruethwyn looked at him with just a hint of surprise as he spoke in a mellow tenor. “Ah, Ms. Sylaris! I’m glad to meet you, though I regret the circumstances. If I didn’t believe it was important, I wouldn’t interrupt your lessons.”
Sir Alaran wasn’t as tall as many elves, more of average height and build, but what she could see of his arms revealed toned muscle that reminded Ruethwyn of the more experienced foresters she’d known, though even they hadn’t looked quite as strong as he was. His skin was tanned, and his hair was black and cropped short. Alaran’s blue eyes were penetrating, but the ready smile of the modestly handsome man put her a bit more at ease, even if he was wearing an enameled black breastplate and had a sword at his side.
“Thank you for your greeting, Sir Whisperblade,” Ruethwyn said respectfully, curtseying clumsily, as she’d never really had training for encounters like this one. “Fortunately, I’ve already learned the lesson being taught, so the interruption shouldn’t cause difficulties.”
“Excellent,” Sir Alaran said, pausing to consider Vrenne for a moment before asking, “Lady Vrenne, would you mind playing the chaperone for this meeting? While I doubt anything to upset others would occur, it’s always best to take measures against misunderstandings.”
“Ruethwyn? I’m happy to do so if you’re comfortable with it,” Vrenne said, closing the door behind her as Alaran took a seat in a chair. The room wasn’t enormous, looking more like a study room, with the chairs around a table. The knight had sat on the end of the table nearest the door, which wasn’t quite as intimidating as if he’d been alone on the other side of the table.
“I’d be happy to have you here, Master Vrenne,” Ruethwyn replied softly, hesitating a moment before taking a seat toward the middle of the table. “Though I’m not certain I need a chaperone. Not after what happened to me.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Vrenne replied, frowning as she moved to take a seat at the other end of the table. “I don’t think that what happened should be allowed to hold you back.”
Ruethwyn couldn’t help but snort softly at that, shaking her head. Taking a moment to clear her mind, she looked at the knight and asked, “Regardless… what can I help you with, Sir Whisperblade?”
“Her Majesty has tasked me with investigating the attack on Mellesyn and seeing if anything can be done to rescue the captives that Resvarygrath took,” Alaran replied, his voice steady as he looked at Ruethwyn directly. “You may not know this, but nineteen years ago, His Majesty was lost in one of our border skirmishes with the Golden Dominion, so she takes this attack quite seriously. The problem is that you’re the first person I’ve heard of surviving one of his raids who wasn’t away when it happened and wasn’t captured.”
“I… I see. I hadn’t heard about His Majesty… I knew he was gone, but I was young when it happened,” Ruethwyn replied, her breathing unsteady and her heart almost clenching at the thought of the man rescuing those who’d been captured. She took a moment, trying to suppress the hope welling up inside as she nodded. “I was more than merely fortunate. I’ve told others that the dark elf saved me… you knew about that, I hope?”
“I’d heard that, but after some of the reports, I decided that it was best to approach you directly and hear what you had to say in person,” Alaran explained, smiling at her. “I’ve learned that many people hear what they want to hear, and that if I want to hear what someone has to tell me, talking to them personally is best. It lowers the chance of the message being warped.”
“I suppose that’s understandable. So, um… what do you want to know?” Ruethwyn asked, shivering slightly as she thought back on the attack. On the immense heat of the dragon’s breath…
“Please, tell me about your encounter with the Illisyr, and about those who you saw kidnapped. Tell me what you can remember about the attackers, as well. Not the dragon, since I’m afraid we have far too good of an idea of his abilities,” Alaran said, leaning forward in his chair.
“R-right, well… I’ll say that the memories are still unsettling, even now,” Ruethwyn said, her composure cracking slightly as she leaned back in her chair, her hand unconsciously reaching up to rub her injured cheek. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”
“That’s fine, Ruethwyn. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have unpleasant memories of what happened,” Alaran said quietl
y.
For a long moment, the room was quiet, memories playing through Ruethwyn’s head… and she spoke at last, her voice soft. “I remember how dark it was, suddenly… like a dense fog descended on the town in the middle of a bright day. The people who attacked emerged from the mist almost like ghosts, wearing steel armor washed black, almost like a dark reflection of his scales. I saw the smith die to their swords, and they were elves and humans… mostly elves, I think. It’s hard to be certain.
“After… after I fell, he called the Illisyr by name. He called her Essryl, and she referred to him as her lord.” Ruethwyn paused, swallowing hard at the memory. It took her a few moments to speak again. “I think she was demon-blooded. Her eyes had slit pupils and glowed red, and she had the tail of one. I don’t think she was a member of the Demonclaw clan… not since she didn’t kill me. When they started taking the captives away, I tried to intervene, but my injuries… they stopped me. When I came to, Essryl was right there.”
“What did she do?” Vrenne asked, fascination in her voice as she stared at Ruethwyn.
“I… don’t remember rightly, not all of it. She found me interesting and was surprised I was trying to fight. It seemed to amuse her, though she threatened to cut my hand off when I tried to grab her.” Ruethwyn hesitated again before adding, “She… she asked what it was that made me fight, and I admitted that it was that they were taking away the person I cared about. That seemed to surprise her.”
“I suppose it would… I don’t know a lot about the Illisyr, but everything I’ve heard makes me think they’re inclined more to power than emotional responses. That type of a motivation probably would puzzle one of them,” Alaran said, his voice soft. “What then?”
“She said she’d give me a chance, since I wasn’t a threat. She’d draw out the captives’… t-training for two years, and make sure they were mostly untouched,” Ruethwyn said, shivering as she added, “She healed me, just enough that I’d survive. I asked why, and she said she was curious to see how far my determination could take me, and that I only had two years. She also said not to disappoint her, as she thought I had potential.”
“How could she heal you? Everything I’ve heard the others say is that your injuries are impossible to affect with healing magic!” Vrenne asked quickly, her eyes bright.
“I don’t know. Maybe, since she’s his servant, she has a way around it?” Ruethwyn suggested, shrugging. “I don’t know why she did it, though. Not really.”
“Very odd. You said her name was Essryl?” Alaran asked, sitting back in his chair with a contemplative look.
“That’s correct,” Ruethwyn said, fighting back the tears welling up at the memory of how she’d been left alone in the ruins of Mellesyn, as well as the day she’d spent finding bodies, looking for any other survivors.
“Hmm… well, what can you tell me about the captives? You said that your…” Alaran paused, looking uncomfortable before he continued, “your girlfriend was among them? My apologies; I know only women were taken, but I want to be clear.”
Ruethwyn let out a giggle, incredulity rushing through her as she shook her head. After a moment, she gasped out, “Oh no… I was too much of a coward to admit I liked Anara. I’d been trying to find the words for years but was too scared. Now? Now I wonder why I didn’t just say something. Not that she’d have given me the time of day… but yes, Anara was taken. I only saw a half-dozen women taken, all of them near me in age or a couple of decades older.”
“It’s not cowardice, Ruethwyn. There are a great many people who don’t find admitting their feelings easy,” Alaran said sympathetically, frowning as he asked, “Is there any way you could tell me what she looked like, or where she lived? If I can find an item of hers, it might make it easier to track down the captives, if I can pull off a rescue.”
“That…” Ruethwyn hesitated, feeling slightly torn for a moment, then swallowed hard. It took a moment more before she asked, not entirely willing to offer what she was about to. “Would a… a bit of her hair work?”
Alaran sat up quickly at her words, his eyes widening as he focused on Ruethwyn. “That would be perfect, Ruethwyn! Are you saying that you have some of her hair?”
“In… in the day after the attack, I was alone. My home wasn’t damaged, but Father… he didn’t make it. So I went to hers, and I found her hairbrush,” Ruethwyn admitted, unclasping her belt pouch and reaching in to find the item in question. “If I was going to find her, I wanted a focus. I wasn’t thinking too clearly at the time, though… it seems impossible when I think about it now.”
She pulled out a clumsily braided ring of golden hair strands, their luster dulled by the past few months. Ruethwyn had been wearing it as a ring for a few weeks but had stopped to keep the hairs from breaking down any further. She didn’t want to lose the one connection she had to Anara. Not unless it could lead to her being rescued, even if it wasn’t by Ruethwyn.
“May I borrow it, Ruethwyn? If it’s determined that I can’t attempt a rescue, I’ll return it, but if I can borrow it, that would be invaluable,” Alaran said, the excitement in his eyes softening as he looked at her.
Ruethwyn took a deep breath, then nodded, her fingers trembling as she offered the ring of hair to Alaran. “Of course. I’m… it’s all I can do at this point. I’ve been learning artificing… just in the hope I could find something to help, but this is better. I hope you can rescue them.”
“Thank you, Ruethwyn. You’ve helped me, and I hope that I can give you good news,” Alaran said, taking the ring carefully.
“Is… is there anything else?” Ruethwyn asked, still fighting back tears. “I… I should probably get back to class.”
“No, that’s it. Thank you again,” Alaran said, and Ruethwyn could feel his gaze on her as she rose and left the room, Vrenne not following.
As the door closed behind her, Ruethwyn took a deep breath, looking out over the trees and spires of the city, then started down the stairs, her spirits sinking as she wondered what she was going to do now.
Chapter 8
“Hey! What’re you doing, Ruethwyn?” Korima asked, the kitsune turned around in her chair and staring at Ruethwyn in interest. “I thought we were supposed to be working on second circle spells.”
Ruethwyn paused, setting aside the engraving tool she’d been using and carefully loosening the clamp holding the wooden bracelet for her. It had been a couple of weeks since classes had begun, and she was growing more comfortable in the academy, if only slightly. It had been more difficult than she’d liked to find a clamp that could be used one-handed, and even when she had, it wasn’t easy to use properly. She still could use it, though, and as she adjusted the clamp, she spoke.
“I am. I’m creating a second circle enchantment, using a second circle energy spell as the basis,” Ruethwyn explained calmly, tightening the clamp once the bracelet was rotated enough. At least she didn’t catch her finger this time. “It may not be exactly what Master Mara had in mind, but it should meet the requirements.”
Madeline let out a derisive laugh and looked up from her book disdainfully, her tone biting. “Really? You’re not doing exactly what the assignment is, and instead, something that you came up with yourself? No wonder you got fried.”
Ruethwyn flinched slightly, pausing as she picked up the engraving tool. She saw Sella cringe out of the corner of her eye, and she thought it looked like Barthel was going to say something, but as he began to open his mouth, Korima spoke first. It wasn’t surprising, since Ruethwyn had learned that the kitsune was prone to emotional outbursts.
“That’s rude, Madeline! I’d like to see how you’d do if a dragon landed in front of you and decided to burn everything!” Korima exclaimed, bristling as she sat up in her chair, glaring at the noblewoman as she spoke. “You should leave her alone.”
“I’d do better than you would, furbrain,” Madeline retorted. “Why do you care, anyway?”
“That’s enough.” Master Mara’s voice cut the othe
rs off sharply, and Ruethwyn felt some tension she hadn’t realized was there ease between her shoulder blades.
The teacher stepped forward and frowned at Korima and Madeline for a moment before speaking, his voice filled with disapproval. “I don’t care if you think that Ruethwyn’s choice is poor, Madeline. Your main concern should be your own task; failure is her problem. You also shouldn’t be insulting your classmates, as it reflects poorly on your station.”
“Ha! See, I—” Korima began, but was cut off as Master Mara continued firmly.
“And you need to learn self-control, Korima. Ruethwyn doesn’t need you interjecting yourself between her and others. You’re too emotional and are easily distracted,” Master Mara said, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “Have you completed the assignment yet?”
“Um, no, not yet. I’m about… halfway done,” Korima said, her ears drooping slightly as she looked at her paper. “It’s just that Ruethwyn’s version is so interesting… I don’t know much about artificing, either.”
“I see. Well, Ruethwyn, since your method of carrying out the assignment is so unusual, why don’t you explain to everyone why it qualifies as fulfilling my requirements?” Master Mara asked, his gaze impassive as he looked at her. Ruethwyn suspected that the teacher had mixed feelings where she was concerned.
“Certainly, Master Mara,” Ruethwyn agreed, though she was somewhat tired of having to explain herself. Running her fingers over the wooden bracelet, she considered how to explain herself before choosing a method that was as accurate and concise as possible. “Master Mara assigned us to fully diagram out how a spell works. While I could write out the full text of a spell, an artifact, no matter how minor, is essentially the diagram in physical form. Furthermore, this includes a spell in the artifact that requires my full understanding of how it works. As such, creating the bracelet and allowing you to examine it, Teacher, will allow you to see my work and create something useful at the same time.”
The Avatar's Flames (Through the Fire Book 1) Page 6
