by Corin, G.
Good he’d made it on time, and it was magic class, his favourite. He hurried to the last spare seat at the front, expertly dodging both the small objects thrown at him and the legs thrust out to trip him.
“Settle down.”
Teacher Garain strode into the room, quelling her pupils with a single look. Ramaeka had never understood why Garain had chosen to teach in Ramanae’s Spineback mountain territory. She was a short, stocky magic dragon from a hot region of Amaria with long rolling plains covered with grasses as high as a Kainge dragon’s knee. To voluntarily teach in the cold, stark mountains seemed like a torturous decision to Ramaeka.
“Llessur, summarise what we learnt last lesson please.”
Ramaeka grinned twitching in his seat as he realised that Garain wasn’t carrying any books or papers. That could only mean one thing, today would be a practical lesson. Next to him Llessur lounged apathetically in his seat, sighing as he deigned to answer.
“We went over how to theoretically use fire spells by throwing them at our enemies.”
Llessur was the son of two of Ramanae’s supporters who worked in his territory. While his mother was a stone dragon, Llessur and his father were two of the few fire dragons to reside on Ramanae’s lands. Personally Ramaeka had never noticed any kind of spark in Llessur.
“Sit up straight when you speak child or I will find a way to keep your attention,” Garain growled softly.
Llessur sat up straight, covering a fake yawn with one hand.
“Since it seems that Llessur needs to be woken up,” Garain paused, her gaze lingering wickedly on the young fire dragon. “I suggest you all put away your things and follow me to the big hall.”
Whispering excitedly, the class put their writing tools away and rushed after Garain as she swept down the hallway. Ramaeka was just as excited as the rest, but he made sure to walk at the very back where nobody would pay attention to him.
As they entered the training room known as the big hall, Garain imperiously waved the students into a line.
“Now let’s see if you can use the theory in a practical setting. You all know how to summon fire. Last week we explored the idea of using that fire as a weapon in both long and short range combat. Alright let’s see if you retained anything I taught.”
She looked them over.
“Llessur, why don’t you go first?”
As Llessur stepped forward frowning, Garain summoned a chair with a flick of her wrist. She lounged back on it and gave Llessur a sardonic smile. Ramaeka bit his lip to hide his grin and focused on the targets set several lengths out. They were shaped like small wavaki, much like a dragon but slimmer and sinewy with double rows of jagged teeth, red claws and a blue sail running down their spine. They lacked the bladed tail of a dragon, and of course had no lesser form.
Llessur, with a smirk, brought forth a handful of fire with ease. Being a fire dragon he was particularly good with this spell. He pulled back his arm and threw the fire which dropped barely halfway to the target. Scowling he summoned another fistful and threw it harder. Ramaeka watched with interest as the fire slapped to the ground still lengths away.
“Would anyone else like to try?” Garain asked mildly as Llessur stepped back red faced.
The other students shuffled their feet, avoiding her fierce brown eyes. If Llessur, a fire dragon, couldn’t do it then how would they do any better? Garain sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Do any of you listen to me in class? Does anybody remember what I said about using the spell over a distance?”
Rolling her eyes at their blank faces she stood up.
“Ramaeka give me some hope for the future of Amaria please!”
She gestured for him to come forward. Reluctantly he slipped past the others who glared, shoving him through. Should he pretend to fail or actually make a serious attempt? Either way he’d get it from his classmates whether it was for being too stupid to do the spell or for showing them up.
“Anytime today Ramaeka,” Garain said with studied patience.
Ramaeka looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She raised an eyebrow at him. He shifted so that he was side on to the target, raising his hand so that his palm faced up. Garain had told them in the last class to force the fire out with their magic, not to physically throw it. He pulled his magic up through his chest and into his arm and hand. A fire flower bloomed warmly on his palm, tickling his sensitive fingers. He had practised the fire spell a lot especially during winter. Now was the tricky part. Slowly he turned his hand so that his palm faced the target, the flame flickered gently. Concentrate he told himself fiercely, bolstering the flame as much as he could. He compressed his magic into his arm until he couldn’t fit anymore in; jamming it in firmly until the pressure made his arm feel like it would explode. He eyed the target down the length of his arm. Now he thought, releasing the magic with an audible bang. His fire roared down the hall as he stumbled backwards, sitting down hard.
“Well,” said Garain. She walked down the hall and prodded the ashy remains of the target with her foot. She peered down the remaining length of the hall.
“I would make that around the 200 length mark even after it hit the target. Well done Ramaeka.”
She walked back to the class and pulled him to his feet.
“Now that Ramaeka has reminded you that we launch the fire with magic, not by physically throwing it, let’s see if you can do better.”
By the end of the class nobody had beaten Ramaeka on the range and power of his fire spell though most had managed to hit the target. Ramaeka was rather pleased by that though he was smart enough to keep that to himself.
As the rest of the class filed out at the end of the lesson talking excitedly, Ramaeka lingered hoping to talk to Garain.
“Teacher Garain,” he began nervously as she waved the remaining targets back to the storage cave. She blinked down at him.
“Ramaeka, why are you still here?”
“I was hoping, I mean...” he mumbled nervously. “I heard that you could learn to control the fire spell with your mind so even if your target runs you can send it after them. And ah, I was wondering...”
She shook her head.
“I’m sorry Ramaeka, but I’ve been instructed not to teach magic that advanced unless Ramanae informs me personally.”
She looked at his slumped shoulder sympathetically.
“I will recommend you for advanced learning, though I don’t know how much good it will do.”
She patted his shoulder before sweeping out of the room. With a sigh Ramaeka hurried after her, he had other classes to attend. Hopefully he would make it to the next one before anyone remembered that they wanted revenge.
Later that evening Ramaeka made his way back to the kitchen, his punishment duty and classes finished for the day, hoping for a snack before watch duty. As he passed close to the front entrance of the fortress a commotion caught his attention. Curious he turned down the corridor towards the noise. Slipping through the small crowd that had gathered he peered at the group in front of him. His father stood in the centre. He was surrounded by the hunting party that had left early that morning. One of them, a sister of his, was talking rapidly, pointing at something at Ramanae’s feet. Ramaeka was surprised to see his father smiling, it was rather like seeing a roasted bird get up and start dancing, disturbing and confusing. At that moment one of the hunting party shifted slightly, allowing him to see what was making his father smile. A figure knelt at his feet, its hands bound; it was incredibly dirty and clearly afraid. Confused Ramaeka wondered if the prisoner had been trespassing on their land. Trespassers were rarely captured and brought back; usually they were given a sound beating and escorted to the border. Why bring it back? He crept closer to the group, hoping to hear something. As he got nearer he noticed a strange scent, it was vaguely familiar but at the same time completely exotic. Unfortunately before he could get closer, the group swept away from him, his father dragging the unfortunate prisoner behind him.<
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Before he could follow a dragon grabbed his shoulder and informed him that he was wanted for watch duty.
As he shivered his way through watch duty in one of the high peaks of the fortress, Ramaeka replayed the scene in his mind over and over. He was sure he knew that scent from somewhere, he just couldn’t place it. Perhaps the dragon was from another province, but even then there was something blatantly wrong with the scent.
Determined he decided to find out who the prisoner was somehow. Silently he thanked Rama the Creator for granting his wish for some excitement, he just hoped it wouldn’t lead him into too much strife.
Unfortunately he had no time to pursue the case of the strange prisoner. An atmosphere of excitement had descended upon the fortress, normally staid dragons hurried through the halls whispering and joking with each other. Every dragon worked frantically to get the mountain ready for the most powerful dragons in Amaria. Only Empara dragons and occasionally Emira were allowed to become leaders of the different provinces which were represented at the Conclave. Ramaeka was scrubbing the floor in the great hall where the Conclave would meet, daydreaming about the day he would be a leader of a warmer district, when he heard footsteps. It served him right for not paying proper attention when his brother landed a kick in his ribs. He had been dreaming that he was the largest and most powerful Empara in draconian history. Wincing he rolled away from the foot and bound to his feet. You had to be fast around here to survive.
He glared at his brother who sniggered at him.
“Poor little thing, did I scare you,” he cooed at Ramaeka, his green eyes gleamed maliciously.
“No, I smelt your stench before you entered the room,” Ramaeka retorted. “I just thought I’d let you get a kick in because I felt sorry for you, slow as you are.”
Ramakayd was one of his more cruel brothers who constantly went out of his way to pick on Ramaeka and he was still smarting over the tail gluing incident.
His brother snarled at him and kicked his bucket of water over. Ramaeka refused to let the dismay he felt show on his face as he watched the dirty water pool over his clean floor. Luckily a senior dragon walked in and ordered them both back to work. Ramaeka watched Ramakayd storm out with a sigh, he would be sure to catch it later. He couldn’t wait until he reached the level of Earil so he would be considered strong enough to leave home. Not that his father would allow any of his children to leave unless they were sent on a mission.
Kneeling he looked at the pool of water, he really didn’t have time to clean it all up again. Looking around carefully he made sure there was no one watching. Drawing on his magic he whispered the spell he had learnt in the kitchens to get rid of messes. He was very pleased with himself when the water disappeared; he had once overheard Garain telling another dragon that he had a strong talent for learning magic. Since then he had worked even harder at the subject, learning the few spells they were allowed to learn as thoroughly as he could as well as the ones he wasn’t supposed to know. Tapping the side of the bucket he magically refilled it with hot soapy water. The fact that he had found a way to sneak into his father’s private library had helped a lot.
The Conclave was only a matter of days away now and he still hadn’t figured out where he was going to hide. He scowled to himself and scrubbed the stone floor ferociously, he had been over every possible way of sneaking in and still he had nothing. Stopping for a moment he stretched his back, sniffing the good smells of the kitchen that wafted in to the hall.
The idea struck him so suddenly that he actually jumped. The ventilation shafts! One of the kitchen shafts ran down to the main hall in order to entice guests with delicious smells. It would be steamy, slimy and dank with insects crawling all through it. In other words it would be perfect, his scent would be covered, and he would be higher than the Conclave members’ line of sight. He grinned happily to himself, and searched the walls for the small opening that he knew would be there, he had to check the shaft out and make sure he could get in before they started preparing the hall. There it was. He grinned gleefully, as he spotted the partially hidden hole behind the massive curtains that covered the walls. Excellent he thought, that would make it easy to climb up to, and he would be even more hidden from the Conclave. As the dinner gong rang out Ramaeka leapt to his feet and gathered his gear, finally everything was coming together.
The next few days were possibly the busiest of Ramaeka’s life. Classes were only held in the mornings to allow enough time to get everything done. He felt as if he had personally scrubbed the entire mountain, and prepared enough food for the entire world. The one thing that kept him smiling and cheerful was the thought that his perfect plan would soon come to fruition. He had checked out the ventilation shaft properly, it was covered with a grill which he had loosened fairly easily with a claw. It had been just wide enough for him to wriggle into backwards in his lesser form after climbing one of the tapestries. His small size was definitely a bonus in this case he thought triumphantly, let any of his siblings’ even try to get in.
The main problem was how to get in without anyone seeing him. He’d decided that it would have to be while the Conclave was officially welcomed into the fortress. Every dragon would turn out to watch leaving his path hopefully clear. He wished that he could view the welcome, which would be incredibly pompous, designed to show off his father’s power and riches. He was willing to make the sacrifice however.
A trumpeting roar sounded from outside, the sentry was warning of approaching dragons. The Conclave! Ramaeka scrambled outside onto a rocky balcony and watched in awe as the most powerful dragons in Amaria descended upon his rocky home. There was almost every colour imaginable, gold, grey, blue, and green, the list went on, each colour indicating the element of the dragon. Not one of them was less than four hundred meters long, nearly every dragon an Empara.
“So is he here yet?” a voice asked from behind him.
“Who?” asked Ramaeka, knowing from the sound of the voice and the scent of the dragon behind him that it was his brother Ramavata.
“Isahn the Great of course,” replied his brother scornfully. “Our father’s opponent, the progressive?”
Ramaeka remembered the name; it was often spoken accompanied with much cursing by his father when he was in a foul mood. A shiver of anticipation ran up his spine, the two largest and most powerful dragons in Amaria were going to be here. His father always claimed that Isahn’s progressive ways were destructive to their society. Ramaeka had never met anybody destructive to society before. He scanned the sky even more eagerly.
The flow of dragons was beginning to clear, most of them now clustered in the entrance in their lesser forms. It was law that during an official Conclave all dragons were to keep their lesser forms, it not only lessened the risk of fighting but also of bruised toes due to the vast size of the Conclave members.
One of the dragons suddenly called out, pointing up. Ramaeka looked up so fast that his neck cricked, rubbing the back of his neck he gazed at the immense dragon skimming the sky above him. The size of the dragon alone told him that this was Isahn; there could also not be a dragon more opposite to his father. Isahn was a blinding shade of white, not a tinge of blue or grey on his hide. While not as muscular as Ramanae, he was long and lean, perhaps even larger than the black dragon. His very presence exuded power, making it suddenly hard to breathe.
The rest of the Conclave backed away as he neatly banked, changing into his lesser form in midair and landing neatly on his feet. I have to learn how to do that thought Ramaeka admiringly.
As he leaned over the edge of the small balcony to get a closer look at the dragon, bells began to toll, signalling the start of the welcoming ceremony.
“Rocks! Just remembered a chore I need to do,” he called to his brother as he ran back into the mountainside. His brother ignored him leaning over to view the proceedings.
Ramaeka raced through the corridors, dodging several dragons hurrying out to watch the ceremony. He paused around the cor
ner from the entrance to the main hall, peeking around to make sure the way was clear. Not a guard in sight. He crept over and pushed cautiously on one of the immense doors. It didn’t move an inch, he heaved as hard as he could but still it refused to budge. Rama above thought Ramaeka anxiously, this was one thing he hadn’t thought about, the doors were usually opened by two large dragons. Voices resounded off the stone walls behind him, there were dragons approaching already. As he looked around frantically, a slither of light further down the hallway caught his eye. The servers’ entrance! he thought in relief.
He bound down the hall praying to Rama that it would be unlocked. He could faintly hear the echo of footsteps behind him; desperately he tested the door with a shaking hand. It was unlocked! He slipped in thankfully, closing the door silently behind him. Running across the hall he bound up on to the table, springing from there up to one of the draperies and pulled himself up as fast as he could. Yanking away the grate with one hand, he gripped it with his mouth and quickly lowered himself into the slimy opening of the shaft. Frantically he wriggled back ignoring the dampness, pulling the grate into place just in time. As he set it firmly back into the stone, four dragons walked into the hall in their lesser forms. Peering out cautiously, he noted that one of them was one of his many sisters while the other three wore official looking clothing.
“There you go,” said his sister sweetly. “This is the main hall where the meeting will take place. You are welcome to check it for the safety of our leaders.”
The official dragons nodded their thanks and began to systematically check the room. Ramaeka held his breath, not daring to breathe as they checked under the table and behind every drapery, and in every nook and cranny. I’m so dead if they find me he thought desperately. However they finished up without once looking at the small ventilation shaft near the roof of the hall. His sister took one of them out of the hall with her to inform the leaders that all was clear while the other two settled outside to guard the entrance.
