Drakonika (Book 1)

by Andrea Závodská

  It didn't take long before the cloaked person disappeared up the staircase back from where they came. By then, Magnus could barely feel his feet, drenched in the freezing water.

  “Who was that?” Maren whispered, still hardly daring to breathe.

  “I d-don't know, I c-couldn't see their f-face,” Magnus said, trembling with cold. “But d-did you notice their height? It m-must have been s-someone from the n-novices.”

  “But who from the novices would follow us here?” Maren said mysteriously.

  “I'm not sure, b-but the crystal ball isn't s-safe here any more. We sh-should take it with us,” Magnus tried, but was cut off instantly.

  “Are you crazy?” interrupted Maren. “What it if Aedan finds out? We better wait. For all we know, it could be his!”

  Magnus knew that it didn't belong to Aedan, but Maren was right nonetheless; the ball should stay where they found it. And yet, a part of him still longed to take the powerful artefact with them. “W-what do you suggest, then?” he said, hoping to hear a good advice. After all, Maren was a very clever girl.

  “I think we should leave it here. That's what I suggest,” said Maren impatiently.

  Magnus heaved a deep sigh. She was right.

  Suddenly, Maren's stern expression softened. “You saw something in that ball, didn't you? What did you see?” she asked swiftly.

  “Well, I –” before Magnus completed the sentence, Maren was already tugging on his sleeves with begging eyes. If it continued this way, his new tunic would soon look just like the old one.

  “Please, tell me! Was it some kind of prophecy? Tell me, tell me! Pleeaaase, I'm so curious,” Maren shrieked.

  “I don't know, I don't understand it myself. I'll tell you tomorrow,” Magnus said in a distant tone.

  “No, now!”

  “No, tomorrow.”

  “Now!”

  “Tomorrow!”

  “NOW!”

  Magnus understood that the only way to slip away from this interrogation was to quickly leave and see Maren home. Since he had to listen to her begging all the way, he walked much faster than he normally would and they made it to their houses sooner than they expected. At the end of their journey, he completely lost count of how many times he said “no” in the last ten minutes.

  “Now,” said Maren again, with her blue eyes fixed on Magnus.

  “Maren, I don't feel like it right now. I am confused and really tired, I'll tell you tomorrow,” he said, stopping in front of Maren's house.

  “All right, good night. See you tomorrow,” said Maren disappointedly. She disappeared behind the door before Magnus could bid her a good night in return.

  That wasn't the best farewell, but he didn't let it ruin his mood. His feet felt stiff and cold and there was something very pleasant waiting for him in his room; a warm hearth.

  This night was, without any doubt, an exciting adventure, but it was also very exhausting. Maren fell into a sweet slumber right away, but Magnus had difficulty falling asleep even after taking a long walk in the middle of the night.

  On a lonely cliff, where flowers bloomed as red as blood, there was a wide tree. Darius was sleeping in the shadow of its black branches, leaning against the dark trunk. As the mild breeze caressed his face, he slowly opened his weary eyes. He never saw this place before. Strange, how did he get there? And how did Fjalldís get there, standing on the edge of the cliff?

  As Darius tried to warm his cold hands, snow started swirling from the sky. When he looked up again, he saw a giant winged lizard, hissing dangerously at the terrified girl. He didn't know much about mythical creatures yet, but he had no doubt that this one could spit fire. It was a dragon!

  He briskly leapt to his feet. It seemed that Fjalldís would soon either fall off the cliff or taste the burning flames coming from the dragon's snout. Like a mighty river, hundreds of questions rushed through his mind at once. Though he was unable to catch any, one of them popped out from the crowd. Would he help her?

  Darius knew that neither of them could face this mighty beast. But before he could make a decision, his body took a quick run towards Fjalldís. Throwing himself into her, he saved her from the deadly fire in the last second. They both fell onto the soft mattress of red flowers.

  All of a sudden, they were alone, without a sign of a dragon around.

  “Come on, let's get out of here,” Darius said, grabbing Fjalldís' hand in haste, but she didn't move.

  “Why have you done this to me? Why?” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. That was when Darius felt something running through his fingers. It was dust. Her dust!

  “But... but I saved you!” Darius cried.

  “No,” replied Fjalldís, “you killed me.”

  With his eyes open wide in horror, Darius watched her whole body turn to ashes right in front of him. The mild breeze took away what was left of her, carrying it gently to the coast. Now there was nothing left but his tears falling onto his empty hands and a tearing pain inside his guilty heart.

  Darius finally opened his eyes, waking up so suddenly he sat upright in his bed. It took him a moment to realise that he was in Sinei, in the room he shared with his housemates, now lit in dim candlelight and his pillow still had the shape of his head imprinted on it. It was all just a dream.

  Then he heard Rodrick's sleepy voice beside him.

  “What's the matter, did you see a ghost? Get up, we have the... duty in the kitchen today,” said Rodrick in disgust, getting dressed as slowly as possible.

  Still breathing rapidly, Darius hardly took any notice of him and although his friends were shuffling around, he felt as though he was all alone. He was the only one who didn't mind leaving his warm bed so early in the morning. Quite the opposite; the farther he got from it, the better. There was no strength left in him for more nightmares.

  The five of them shuffled out into the dark street like band of spooks. The only sound they could hear was their own shoes clapping on the cobblestones, echoing in the streets surrounded by houses.

  “Do you think Aedan left the kitchen unlocked?” Viktor said, with his eyes only halfway open.

  “I'm not sure, but I hope not,” said Darius blankly. Like every day, he was dressed completely in black, wearing his favourite black gloves. All of his friends followed the same fashion style and that's why they could proudly call themselves the Black Squad.

  They lazily limped off to the citadel and when they found out the kitchen was indeed open, they reluctantly stepped inside. Their last hope that they wouldn't have to cook today was entirely gone.

  Giselbert gave a long, tired sigh as he sat on a chair, unwilling to move.

  Viktor placed the lantern on one of the wooden shelves. “Light up the candles, I don't feel like it,” he ordered, yawning lazily. Nobody seemed to listen to him though.

  Darius took off his gloves. He looked around with a sour face, imagining they would have to spend the next... what? Two hours there?

  There was the cracking sound of opening an old book. “All right, who can read?” said Henry, holding a candle in his other hand. Among the five of them there were only two who could read. Well, more or less.

  Darius and Viktor came forward, pushing Henry out of their way. Even though there were a lot of books on the table, they squeezed themselves against it so closely that it was as if there were no other books around. Surely, there were enough ingredients in the kitchen and the cellar, but they had to find a recipe first. A random choice would probably not be very wise.

  Viktor skimmed through the book airily and then pointed his finger on the very first recipe he saw. “Let's do this one,” he said firmly.

  “Are you sure?” Darius said in a doubtful tone, “Isn't that a recipe to make wine?”

  “No,” Viktor said shortly. There was a moment of silence, in which he looked back at the title and seemed to hesitate a little, but then he spoke again with utmost certainty. “It's a recipe to make bread. See? One of the main ingredients is yeast.
Learn to read, Darius.”

  Darius scowled as his eyes slid down the recipe one more time. “Oh yeah? But there's no flour–”

  Bam!

  Viktor shut the book so fiercely, he almost slammed Darius' nose inside. “Now you're being smart? Wasn't it you who said we couldn't cook? Be on your own then,” he said with finality in his voice. He grabbed the book and left to one of the desks in the room, searching its drawers. The rest of them joined the one who sounded more persuasive: Viktor.

  Darius groped for a chef cap that lay on the desk behind him and placed it on his head. It was pretty loose but he kept it on anyway. “All right then,” Darius said crabbily as he drew another book from the shelf. He had half of the kitchen for himself now. The others were squeezing by one desk, because clearly, none of them was brave enough to do it alone.

  Darius and Viktor exchanged long stares, as if they were preparing for a duel. Sometimes it was really hard to tell if these two were serious or not. When they both pulled up the sleeves of their black tunics, everyone was looking at Darius' left arm.

  Seeing the bandage, Rodrick succumbed to curiosity, “Whoa, what's that?”

  “Nothing,” snapped Darius angrily, “It's just for image.” At these words, he shot Viktor a warning glare to keep quiet.

  “Oh, okay,” said Rodrick with a trace of fear in his voice.

  Darius turned away and grabbed a long white apron, tying it around his waist.

  “Cool, now you look like a maid,” said Viktor mockingly, laughing his pants off at his own joke. Neither could Giselbert help sniggering.

  “Keep laughing,” said Darius scornfully. “At least I have armour for this battle, you have nothing.” At these words, he left to the cellar.

  There was another outbreak of mirth in the kitchen, followed by a couple more taunting comments. If they weren't so far from their house, they would have surely woken up all the novices. Maybe even Aedan.

  Darius' face was red with anger. He enjoyed making fun of others, but he hated being a target of laughter himself.

  When his friends discovered that their poor jokes were no longer funny, they realised it was time to start working. Shortly, Darius seemed to have nearly half of his work done and they suddenly didn't feel like laughing any more.

  Viktor furiously clenched his fists.

  In a moment, the whole kitchen broke into a baking race. The results were clearly showing that Viktor, Henry, Giselbert and Rodrick didn't have a clue about what they were doing. All that they did were simply feeble attempts to imitate Darius, along with trying to somehow carry out the recipe that Viktor had chosen. And the result? It must have been terrible.

  It was a lot of work and a lot of nerves and all the time there was high tension in the air. None of them even noticed that the sun was already rising.

  When the “battle” was over, Viktor, Rodrick, Giselbert and Henry could already start getting ready for the afternoon washing. Their black clothes turned to white as they had nothing to prevent themselves from getting flour everywhere. No need to mention that Darius had finished his work long before they did and his clothes were clean just like new.

  When they all heard the shrieks of hungry novices bolting into the dining room, they knew it was time to serve breakfast. The Black Squad were pretty hungry themselves, but they would only get what they had cooked. Viktor found the time to shoot Darius an envious look.

  Aedan was already sitting among the novices, waiting for the tasty meal. At least that's what everyone was hoping for.

  Since the Black Squad didn't work together, they didn't serve together either. Viktor with the others were serving their dish on the left side, Darius on the right. In a few seconds, there was an outbreak of murmuring on the left side, along with a few serious complaints. Not only was the meal was burned black, it didn't even hold together! It poured down like ashes, dropping bits of something that might have once been orange, lemon and heather blooms. It was a mass made of the ingredients used for making druid wine, with additional flour. However, not even Aedan himself was able to identify it.

  Yet praises from the other side were heard across the whole dining room. They didn't belong to Viktor's burned creation though.

  Giselbert, Rodrick and Henry just wished they had joined Darius who was serving slices of yummy druid bread with honey.

  “Could I have some more?” asked a boy sitting near the middle.

  Though he was very tired, the leader of the Black Squad suppressed a smile with great difficulty. “No, there wouldn't be enough for everybody,” Darius lied effortlessly, although he knew that there was a spare ration.

  When he finally came to Fjalldís, he gave her a plate with two slices. There was something he wanted to say, but since the room was full of curious ears, he couldn't risk that someone might hear it. But then again, even if it was just the two of them, he probably wouldn't say anything.

  Fjalldís felt utterly bewildered. She would never expect this. Perhaps it was a mistake? Whatever it was, thanks to the turmoil about Viktor's “art piece”, nobody except her noticed that small detail.

  Aedan looked more than satisfied. “Excellent! I think I'll make this a regular thing. Well done, Darius. It seems you have exceptional abilities in cooking!” he said in an ecstatic tone, and that didn't happen very often. Nobody could object to Aedan's words, but was it really talent or had Darius done this before?

  Darius tried his best to keep a serious face, but he couldn't hold back any longer and a furtive smile sneaked onto his face. He didn't enjoy the company of these “losers”, but this time he excused their unpleasant presence because they praised his work.

  Unlike the rest of the Black Squad, Darius had already eaten his breakfast in the kitchen. Despite the venomous looks of his friends, he joined them at the table. They weren't talking or playing cards.

  Viktor furiously slashed the dust on his plate with a wooden fork, his face contorted with anger.

  Even though the dining room was full of squealing novices who fought over the druid bread, it didn't take long for Darius to fall asleep with his head on the table. However, he wasn't the only one who wanted to sleep more than anything else.

  Magnus had problems holding the bread in his hand, although he had to admit it was really tasty. His eyes kept shutting, then he abruptly woke up from falling asleep in his chair. But after the restless night, there was no wonder.

  When the novices finished their breakfast and tossed the last bits of Viktor's “royal meal”, Aedan stood up to chase them out of the dining room. They had an important lesson ahead and there was no spare time for chit-chat or playing card games.

  As the druid approached the front door, Darius suddenly sat upright, giving a terrified yelp that made everyone around stare at him. Although he slept only for a few minutes, it was enough time to dream the same nightmare he had earlier. A disturbing feeling flushed him. Something wasn't right.

  Aedan didn't seem to take it seriously. “Oh please, not another one of your jokes. What happened now? A bee stung you?” he said, suggesting that he wouldn't fall for one of their feeble pranks.

  “Nothing, I'm fine,” Darius said firmly. As he caught himself looking at Fjalldís as if she was a real ghost, he quickly left his seat, his disgruntled friends following him outside. They could hear one last comment behind them.

  “And I thought you got scared just because your conscience wasn't clear,” Aedan said merrily. But although he meant it as a joke, it wasn't very far from the truth.

  IX. The Lord Of Ravens

  “Do we really have to study? Can't we just... lay in the grass and sleep some more?” said Rodrick in the last attempt to convince their teacher that they had much better ideas about how to spend this wonderful day.

  “Well, we have a beautiful day, the birds are chirping, bees are buzzing and Mother Nature is inviting us for a walk,” Aedan said delightedly. For a while, he remained deep in thought and with a soft smile on his face, he gazed at the blue sky. Hearing his
words, the novices smiled too. They were going to have another day off!

  “And in the meantime we'll study,” Aedan finished his sentence, topping it to perfection.

  There was an outbreak of muttering at this. Rodrick did all he could in order to get a day off for them, but he failed.

  Wanted or not, all the novices had to follow Aedan into the library which was located on the ground floor of the citadel. Their teacher was still on guard, just in case anyone wanted to be a hero and try to sneak into the area they were not supposed to go. The upper floors were completely forbidden for them to enter, just as was stated in the lengthy scroll with the guild rules.

  The library was huge, but its high arched ceiling was making it look even larger and more glorious. Even those who hated books felt utter respect for this room. So many stories, so many mysteries, so much knowledge... But just like everywhere else, there were rules they had to follow here too.

  “I don't want you to dig around in those shelves. The books you need will always be ready here on this table,” said Aedan gravely, pointing his finger at one of the study tables which was groaning under mountainous piles of books.

  Seeing this library, Magnus could not help but recall the vision from last night. If only they were in the library of the Ragnan Mages Guild! No matter how hard he tried to focus and concentrate on Aedan's words, he could not stop wondering about when they would visit Ragna.

  “There are three titles, take one from each,” Aedan said flatly.

  That was easy to say, but harder to accomplish. As usual, it was the Black Squad who spoke for everybody.

  “And you expect us to drag all of this this around?” Viktor said incredulously. In the next second, he was drowning in the shadow of their tall teacher.

  “If you don't want to stay weak, I suggest you to do exactly that,” said Aedan crabbily. “You'll see, soon you won't even realise you are carrying something.” That didn't seem to calm them much. Everyone knew it would take a lot of pain until they “wouldn't even realise it”.