Wyvern Awakening (Mage Chronicles #1)

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  Finally, the Pixies and I manage to sneak outside undetected. Lenin keeps asking me why I’m acting so weird. He continues interrogating me during the entire journey through town. My Pixies don’t need to know what’s going on with me. I don’t want to worry them. I’ll continue to dodge questions until they give up.

  There’s a Saturday market set up on the main square. It’s busy and the only place where humans and shifters can mix without any judgmental looks or gossip. I head over there to buy a new sword. I finally have enough money in my bank account to spend on myself for a change – I don’t need to save up or give it to my uncle.

  A heaviness trickles into my stomach when I think about them for a second. They haven’t magically vanished; my aunt and uncle still live in this town, and our paths might cross again at some point. As far as my Uncle Richard is concerned my debt isn’t fully paid – it’ll never be paid. Whatever Jorgen gave them will never be enough. Besides, that money had nothing to do with me. He did it because he wanted to save his father.

  “Maybe you should buy those delicious, warm toffees. We haven’t had them for ages,” Lenin says, pulling my sleeve to go towards the stand with sweets.

  I roll my eyes.

  “All right, but you really need to stop talking over people,” I say to him once I find a beautiful, white-handled sword. There are some Asian signs carved on the blade and I haggle with the salesman for a bit, eventually purchasing it at reasonable price.

  “Fine, but it’s not my fault most of them are saying stupid things,” Lenin mutters, then proceeds to tell me I should always try to push across my own point of view. It sounds like this pixie’s never going to learn, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all.

  I turn to my right and as I’m just about to approach the sweets stand, I see a familiar face. My Aunt Beatrice is walking towards me with two of her close friends.

  She sees me before I have a chance to disappear. I don’t know what to do. I try to smile, telling Lenin to be quiet for a second. My aunt narrows her eyes at me, tensing every muscle on her face. A moment later, she turns around and marches in the other direction.

  Clearly, she isn’t too happy seeing me here. Luckily, Lenin and Jetli didn’t notice her, and any unpleasant confrontation will be avoided. I take a sharp breath and buy two bags of sweets, telling myself I can’t expect anything else from her. She hates me and nothing I say or do is going to change her mind. Oh well. No love loss there if I’m being honest. She might be blood, but she’s a real bitch – she never loved me in the first place.

  An hour later, I walk into Emilia’s shop. Marianna, the new shifter, is behind the counter.

  “Emilia’s in her storage room in the back. I think she’s brewing a new love potion,” she says, looking bored out of her mind. The shop’s empty and I feel a little nostalgic being here today. Lenin and Jetli start snooping around, eating their sweets.

  I nod and head over to the back, wondering if I can help Emilia with anything today. I need to keep busy in order not to think about the duke.

  “Hey, Emilia,” I say, trying to avoid various unopened boxes scattered around the floor. The smell of musk, sage and wildflowers infuses the air and I immediately feel calmer. A large pot of boiling, brown liquid is set on the small gas stove and my boss is staring intensely at a book that’s open in front of her.

  “Oh, Astri, it’s wonderful of you to pop in. I meant to visit you today and see how you’re doing,” my boss says, hugging me.

  “I need to talk to you about something. Have you got a minute?” I ask, still contemplating if I should say anything at all.

  Emilia closes the book and looks at me with a serious expression on her face. She picks up her magic wand and waves it over the pot; the water automatically stops boiling.

  “What’s wrong, Astri? Did something happen?” she asks.

  I’ve never spoken about my parents; Emilia has no idea how they died, and I’m done keeping it a secret.

  “There’s a reason I decided to participate in the duke’s contest,” I say, still remembering the repulsion on Jorgen’s face when he was staring at my scar. “Eleven years ago my parents were murdered. I’ve only just discovered the identity of their killer. It was the night before I heard about the duke’s contest.”

  For years, I avoided talking about it, thinking I would never know the truth.

  Emilia’s face goes pale and she puts her wand away.

  “Murdered? That’s terrible, Astri. How long have you known about this?” she asks.

  “A few days after I woke up in the hospital, I started dreaming of the mage who scarred me and he bragged about how he killed my parents. Their death had something to do with my clan: the Wyvern clan,” I explain. “My aunt and uncle kept telling me they died in a car accident, but I always knew it was a lie.”

  “For Hommis, Astri, this is serious. And you’re saying you know who the killer is?” Emilia asks, her eyes wide.

  “Yes, I mean, I recognised him from my nightmare and, as you know, my dreams always reflect reality.”

  “Then we must inform the authorities right away. I know this was years ago, but the killer has to be brought to justice,” Emilia says, looking disturbed. I can’t tell her it’s Jorgen, because it might put her in danger. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her. Besides, my nightmare isn’t hard evidence. Pollock wouldn’t even believe me.

  “It’s not that simple,” I sigh. “My parents’ killer is an important authority figure in Rivenna and I don’t have any evidence. Please don’t ask who it is, because at this point I can’t say anything else. I need to be really careful, because this mage is dangerous.”

  Emilia’s most likely aware I’m not ready to reveal who the killer is. This whole thing is extremely complicated.

  “But nothing’s working out the way you want, right?” she asks, and I appreciate she isn’t bombarding me with questions.

  “No, I’m weak, and the last task was a disaster. Maybe I’m not strong enough. People judge me, and this hideous scar—”

  “Astri, please stop believing the scar is the problem here. You deserve to win—you deserve to stand by the duke’s side as an equal,” she says, sounding angry. “I see you won’t tell me anymore, and I won’t push you. Obviously, this is a very sensitive matter.”

  “You know I trust you with all my heart, but I have to figure this out on my own. And after everything that’s happened, I don’t know if I can,” I admit, doubting myself. “What if I win, and the duke refuses to accept me? I’m not as strong as the other contestants and I’m a Wyvern. I’ve seen what the press is writing about me. They don’t consider us real dragons.”

  Silence stretches between us for a long moment.

  Emilia keeps staring at me intently, before she says, “Years ago, when I was teenager, I lived in a small village in another part of the Eastern World, there was a girl who, from an early age, kept saying she was going to become a real witch someday. As you know, only a few humans have magical genes, but not only did she have her genetics working against her, my neighbour was overweight and clumsy as well. Her parents, neighbours and friends—everyone told her the coven would never accept her; she should think about another career. Back then, physical appearance mattered as much as skills or family background. There weren’t many witches around and only the best of the best of humans were accepted,” Emilia explains and I have no idea where she’s going with this, but I’m willing to listen to the end of her story.

  “As you can imagine, everyone around her kept discouraging her, telling her she was too fat to even be considered.”

  “It’s a good story, but—”

  “So what do you think happened to her in the end?” Emilia asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I have no idea.”

  “Well, there were many times she wanted to abandon her dream, but she kept going. She started studying every spell book she could find. She read and practised magic every spare moment she had. She l
earnt everything she could, and for years she remained focused on her goal. The whole village laughed at her; people continued telling her she would never become a witch. She lost her friends and even her own parents turned their back on her. And trust me, she wanted to give up, wanted to tell everyone they were right, but she didn’t,” Emilia says, paling for a second. “Years later, when she came of age, she left her village and travelled to a bigger city. For months, she took every job she could find just to survive and finally managed to secure an apprenticeship with an enormously powerful wizard. She studied under his tutelage for many years, and sometime later, she returned to her roots in order to join the coven. This time, the witches couldn’t turn her down, because she was much more powerful than they were. What I’m trying to say is, her weight didn’t stop her; nothing did.”

  “I get it, Emilia, the story is inspiring and all, but I’m in a different situation. I don’t fit into Jorgen’s world. You should’ve seen the look of disgust on his face when we talked. The scar—”

  “Your scar, Astri, is like my weight. It won’t stop you from achieving your goal. Only you can do that by allowing your insecurities to get the best of you. I’ve learned to accept my flaws, and ultimately, I’ve proven to everyone they were all wrong about me.”

  Chapter 21

  Decisions.

  “That story was about you?” I ask, trying to figure out if she’s pulling my leg. We’ve never talked about her past, and now I feel a little guilty this sensitive subject never really came up. We’ve been friends forever, but I never knew she was an ordinary human girl before she became a witch.

  “Of course, I’m talking about myself,” she says, smiling. “And it’s not your scar that’s holding you back—it’s you.”

  I chew my bottom lip, not wanting to agree with her. The truth is my scar has always felt like a burden on my shoulders. People laughed and called me all sorts of names and I took it all in, trying to deal with it in my own way. Maybe there’s something to learn from Emilia’s story. If I do, then I can show everyone I’m not just a scarred girl. I could finally become someone. Jorgen must pay for what he’s done to me. I want him to lose everything he cares for the most.

  “Do you really think I can beat Sebastian?” I ask, scratching my head. “I won the second task, I had all the crystals, but he stole one from me.”

  My blood boils when I think about him. There has to be a way for me to eliminate him. The guy’s not playing by the rules and maybe I shouldn’t either. The duke’s father isn’t in the best of shape, even after his healing and Jorgen’s prepared for anything. Maybe I can use this to my advantage.

  I want him to admit what he’s done and prove to me he regrets it. The contest is all I have, and Emilia’s right. The scar is just a nasty mark on my face, and I’m the one who keeps believing I’m inadequate. If I win, then people will remember me for being strong and courageous, not because I’ve been marked by my own fire. This is my chance to shine and get my revenge at the same time.

  “Of course, that shifter’s playing dirty, and karma will catch up to him eventually. Believe in yourself and stop worrying about things you cannot control. You need to decide for yourself if becoming the duke’s assistant is exactly what you want,” she says and then runs her fingers over my deformed face. “You’re so beautiful, but most people don’t see it. Please remember my words.”

  I smile, realising I’ve been acting really stupid.

  “Thank you, Emilia, I needed to hear this,” I say, knowing I’m much fitter than any of the other contestants. My hunting skills are impeccable.

  “Good. Now, stop worrying and start picturing yourself standing next to the duke. You’ve gotten this far, and you can’t give up yet,” she adds, going back to her potion. I hug her again and start calling Jetli and Lenin.

  Emilia’s right. Her weight didn’t stop her from becoming one of the most skilled witches in the area, and my own disability shouldn’t stop me from getting what I want.

  Three days pass by and soon I’m standing in the courtyard waiting to start the final, deciding task. My pulse is pounding in my ears with excitement. Sebastian tenses his jaw, looking nervous like the other contestants. Thayer and a few other people are standing outside.

  I don’t even look at him, trying to concentrate on my energy. The time will come when I’ll be alone with the duke. I just have to stay patient and wait for an opportunity to strike back.

  The whole castle has been buzzing with gossip about the upcoming task. The maids are always spreading rumours, and over the past three days it was hard to figure out what Jorgen prepared for us.

  There’s no sign of him, and I wonder if he’s planning to show up at all today. Thayer’s discussing something with the guards. There’s a small crowd of people from town. I spot a few familiar faces, and my heart warms up a bit when Emilia waves to me from the distance.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for the final task. Unfortunately, the duke cannot be here with us. He has been forced to take care of an urgent matter in another city,” Thayer says, looking apprehensive. The duke should be here. I’m shocked there’s something more important keeping him away from the competition. I glance around and place my hand over my new sword—energy rushes down my arms. I’m ready for anything in order to win. My Pixies are watching me from a distance.

  Thayer continues with his speech. “Last night, a wild dragon from the Kurik clan kidnapped one of the duke’s personal guards. All contestants are expected to shift and head over to the The Decaying Mountains to rescue the injured shifter and bring him home.”

  I move my weight to the side, thinking this sounds pretty straightforward, but as with previous tasks there’s probably going to be many surprises along the way. Elijah glances at me and I give him a sweet smile. Maybe it’s better the duke isn’t in the castle. That way I can focus on my inner energy and not worry about the way he stares at me.

  “This time around there’s no time limit on the task, and as usual expect obstacles along the way. The mission shifter will be wounded, and your job is to keep him alive …”

  Thayer goes through a few more details and I’m already thinking about all the healing spells I can find in the area. Sebastian turns to look at me; he smiles and I wonder if he’s trying to challenge me again. Whatever, he won’t scare me this time around. I’m ready to kick his arse. Instead of smiling back sweetly, I wink and give him a tiny wave. He’ll soon find out I’m not messing around.

  “The first to return will become the duke’s assistant. Good luck, my dears, and let the final contest begin,” Thayer shouts and his eyes flash with excitement. The crowd cheers and then Sebastian backs away. My inner dragon senses he’s just about to shift. I don’t waste any time and do exactly the same.

  There’s a long pause and Sebastian steps in front. The ground beneath my feet starts to shake, and I close my eyes focusing on my inner dragon. Slowly, my human senses lose their sharpness and I’m aware Sebastian’s the first creature to transform into a dragon, rising into the air.

  My breathing is laboured, my muscles and joints are beginning to grow with enormous speed. My skin changes colour and becomes rougher, the crowd around me shouts loudly. A swell of emotions rise in my throat, and the creature inside urges me to release my magical energy. Soon there’s no more Astri, just a powerful Wyvern dragon who spreads its giant bat-like wings and lifts itself in the air.

  The castle slowly disappears along with everyone outside—the world seems bigger as I look down on it in the distance.

  I register other dragon shifters nearby, so I circle around the towers a few times, before rising higher and higher into the clouds. My instincts remind me I have to fly over towards the Decaying Mountains. The tension in my no-longer-human body begins to ease off, and I ignore the nudge of energy passing over my spine. I fly, enjoying the freedom, and after some time I finally notice the mountains stretching in the background. The burning smell of cider and spice wafts through the air. A s
trong pulsating energy rolls down my back, stinging my spiky horns. My sense of smell is a thousand times stronger when I turn into a dragon.

  Thicker, darker clouds begin to gather around. I fly lower and soon find a large, open field at the edge of the forest. I touch down abruptly, releasing unexpected fire then shift back into my human form.

  Shifting into such a powerful beast uses masses of energy, and I feel drained. My fingers, jaw and feet are hurting. I close my eyes and let a rush of energy move along my skin. It’s going to take me at least half an hour to replenish my inner source.

  Once I’m strong enough to move again, I start walking, knowing I can easily be spotted in such an open space. Jorgen wasn’t at the courtyard for a reason, and I don’t believe for a second he had something more important than finding out who’s going to be his winner and new assistant.

  My new sword will be more than useful, and once I start moving through the wilderness my objectives become clear. First, I need to find healing herbs just in case the guard’s severely injured.

  No one in Rivenna is allowed to cross into the Decaying Mountains. Wild shifters consider the land from the river their territory and none of them care about the duke’s laws.

  I start climbing the steep, rocky hill, registering movements between the trees. I’m not very familiar with this territory, and I can’t afford to be spotted by anyone too soon. The wild dragon shifters are unpredictable, and they won’t hesitate to hurt me. A burst of unexpected energy rolls over my back and I stop for a second, wondering if I’m being followed.

  When the path in front of me is clear, I start spreading Pixie dust around me to cover my scent.

  Lenin spiked it with some of his magic, and once the wind picks up, it’ll spread the dust towards healing herbs. That way, I don’t have to waste a lot of time walking around this area for hours before I find the herbs I’m looking for.

  It’s one of the many things I love about Lenin and Jetli’s magic: it always directs me to the thing I need the most, and in this situation I need to get my hands on betel nut.