“Sure, I’ll show you how to make that super flammable oil. I call it dragon’s breath.”
“That would be great!”
Azerick used the few ingredients he had left to make a small batch of the combustible mixture and showed it off by setting it alight in a small glass the size of a shot glass. The glass got so hot that it shattered and the liquid flame spread out on the small metal plate on which it was sitting and continued to burn, causing the metal to glow orange before finally consuming itself and going out. The two boys stayed up late into the night as Rusty told Azerick about the school and classes and he taught Rusty a little about life on the street.
Azerick woke up with the rising of the sun. Rusty did not wake until the first morning bells started ringing an hour later. They washed quickly in a washbasin, got dressed, and consumed a delicious but thankfully uneventful breakfast. They had about an hour to themselves after breakfast before the first class started.
Azerick’s first day of school consisted of taking a multitude of tests to determine what he was proficient in and what classes he would have to take to catch up. He scored well in reading, mathematics, alchemy, and basic history and was placed in those classes with students near his own age.
However, he had virtually no education regarding the history of magic, magic theory, the principles of magic, or applied magic and would have to be placed in classes with other beginning students. This meant he would be sitting in class with children half his age, and that thought made him feel more than a little awkward.
The first day of class, he proved to be something of a distraction. The younger children were unable to contain their sniggering and seemed to pay far more attention to the older boy in their midst than to the teacher. Azerick, however, paid strict attention to all of his instructors, wanting to absorb as much knowledge as quickly as he could.
It took only a few days for Travis and his friends to find out he was in class with the younger kids and went out of their way to harass him about it.
“How do you like the baby class? Aw, he looks cranky. Do you need your diaper changed?” they teased.
This went on for the next several months, but Azerick simply ignored them and put up with the name-calling until one day they came into the classroom while the instructor was out.
“Listen up, you little twerps, and peasant. It’s going to be winter festival and you know what that means and what will happen if you don’t bring us what we want,” Travis said and then left with his entourage in tow.
All the younger children started talking and grumbling about how mean Travis and his friends were. Azerick turned to one of the younger boys in his class.
“What were they talking about?” he asked a boy named Gerard.
“Those mean boys make us bring back all of our candy from winter festival and give them almost all of it. If we don’t, then they’ll tease us and make our lives miserable. Some kids even get beat up. I wish we were as big as them, then we could beat them up and they couldn’t take our candy,” said Gerard, clenching his small fists.
Azerick stood up and turned to the rest of the class. “Listen up everyone; you don’t have to be big to defend yourselves. I have fought people a lot bigger than I was and won. What you need to do is stick together. I know if you all worked together you could defend yourselves against them and any bullies you come across.”
“But they’re really big and mean and they know more magic than we do. We can’t fight them,” one of the girls cried out.
“Have you ever seen anyone get chased by bees before?” Azerick asked them.
Several kids replied that they had.
“Bees are small, so why do you run from them?”
“Because they can sting you and there are usually a lot of them,” Gerard said.
“Exactly, just like there are a lot of you, and I can teach you how to sting them just like those bees.”
“How?”
Azerick explained to the younger students what he had in mind. He worked with them over the next several days, practicing what they needed to know to defend each other against Travis and any other people who picked on them.
Azerick understood that Travis’s extortion had little if anything to do with the candy. It was all about asserting their dominance and oppressing those weaker than them to make themselves feel powerful. It was exactly the same reason that the guild men killed Jon and his street family despite knowing that they had almost nothing to give. It would not surprise him if Travis and his ilk simply threw out their extortion prize.
Azerick was largely immune to the taunting, harrassment, and even fistfights that Travis and his friends visited upon him. Rarely a week went by that he did not have to defend himself verbally or physically, but it was not much different than living on streets had been. Better even in that Azerick was never really fearful of his life despite Travis’s threats. But Azerick could not ignore the bullying and victimizing of those too young and weak to defend themselves. It sparked a dangerous rage within him.
Azerick returned to his room and found Rusty already there. He flopped down onto his bed and draped his arm across his eyes in hopes of relieving the headache he felt coming on.
“Are you going to the winter festival tomorrow, Azerick?” inquired Rusty.
“I guess so, it should be a nice change of pace, and the fresh air will help me clear my head,” Azerick answered.
“How are your studies coming along? Still having trouble with some of the spells?” Rusty asked his friend.
“Yeah, the cantrips were easy and I picked up on some of the lower level wizard spells, but anything even a little tougher than those I just don’t seem to get. I understand what they are trying to teach me, but it just does not make any sense to me. I’m starting to think Magus Allister was wrong about me,” Azerick lamented.
“I’m sure you’ll get it. Some people get hung up for a while then everything just kind of clicks and they take off again. You have already learned more in the last four months than I did in my first two years.”
“I hope you’re right.”
It bothered Azerick a lot that he may not be cut out for the Magus Academy after all and that he was letting down Magus Allister. But the old wizard assured him that he was doing just fine and that he had faith in him and his potential. The old mage came by to check on him from time to time and even tutored him when he was having trouble with a particular spell.
Despite his reassuring words, the roadblock Azerick seemed to have reached concerned Allister. Ordinarily, he would not have considered this a problem given the lack of experience that Azerick had. Nevertheless, he had been learning so quickly in the beginning, and the fact that he had been able to disable the ward he had cast on his door that he expected him to come along much faster.
Maybe I am just expecting too much this soon, the wizard thought.
Rusty and Azerick went out the next day to the winter festival. Since Azerick had no money, Rusty bought them pastries and grilled sausages that they ate on a stick. They watched jugglers, acrobats, men walking above the crowd on stilts ten feet high throwing candies and sweets to the children below. Twice Azerick saved Rusty’s coin pouch from a couple of petty cutpurses. After the second attempt, Azerick convinced Rusty to let him carry the coins.
As the day started turning into evening, the thousands of people crowding the streets started to flow like a river; a massive current of bodies pushing inexorably toward the docks where the fireworks were going to be lit and a few of The Academy wizards would be throwing up a few of their own visually impressive spells. The pressing flow of bodies forced the two young wizardry students along; helpless to go anywhere but where the human river guided them.
They were able to get a respite when a few bodies pressed them into a side street where they could catch a breather away from the tight confines of the populace. Their relief was short lived when Azerick finally noticed who had pressed them into the narrow side street.
“Look here, bo
ys. Looks like the street rat got himself a girlfriend,” Hugo taunted.
“Hey, Carrot, you didn’t tell us you had a sister,” Rolly added.
“Couldn’t be my sister, she’d whore herself out to beggars before she’d be seen with a street rat,” Carrot replied.
All three laughed at the insults.
“You owe us money, street rat. Now pay up and we’ll only bust you up a little bit,” Hugo promised.
“I’m not working the streets anymore, Hugo. I don’t have to pay your guild's tax anymore.”
“You don’t get it do you? Once a street rat, always a street rat. You’re on my streets right now, and you’ll pay your tax. I seem to remember you owing me some silver from the last tax you didn’t pay. Not to mention bustin’ Carrot's nose again. By rights, I could take your ear just for that,” Hugo snarled as he produced a rust-marred but sharp knife.
“Give him the money, Azerick, it’s okay,” Rusty pleaded, clearly frightened.
“Not going to happen, Rusty. Remember what you’ve been taught.”
“Better listen to your girlfriend, rat, and give us the coin.”
“I have a better idea. How about I show you a magic trick,” Azerick suggested.
“What kind of magic trick? This better not be some kind of trick, or you’re really gonna get it.”
“Just watch,” Azerick said, rolling his eyes at Hugo’s moronic statement.
He started moving his hands in a swirling and reaching pattern, and a glowing nimbus of swirling colors illuminated in his hands.
“Wow, would you look at that, Hugo! What’s he doin?” Carrot asked.
“I don’t know, Carrot, but I don’t like it. What are you doing, street rat?” Hugo demanded.
The three thugs standing in front of them may not have had a clue what was happening, but Rusty did. He choked down his fear and started casting a spell of his own. A shimmering surrounded his body that would help deflect blows as if he was wearing armor. As Rusty completed his spell, he looked away from Azerick just as he completed his own.
A brilliant rainbow of colors erupted from his fingertips straight into the faces of the three hoodlums. Carrot stood motionless, his eyes rolling back up into his head until only the whites were showing, Rolly dropped to the ground and lay motionless.
“My eyes! What did you do to my eyes? I can’t see!” Hugo cried out in alarm and ineffectually lashing out with his knife.
Hugo blinked rapidly and lunged at Azerick just as Carrot came out of his momentary stupor. Azerick grabbed Hugo by the wrist as the thug blindly flailed at him with the knife. Hugo cried out once again, and the knife fell from his nerveless fingers and dropped to the ground as Azerick sent an electric jolt coursing down his attacker’s arm much like Allister had done to him when they first met, only to a lesser degree.
The moment Hugo resumed his attack Carrot’s eyes rolled back down as he shook off his stupor and charged at Rusty. Rusty brought his hands up, shouting out arcane words, and fire leapt from his fingertips into the top of Carrot’s head. Carrot let out a screech of terror so high-pitched that only girls under the age of ten could usually hit such a note as his wooly hat and red hair burst into flames.
Hugo clamored half-way to his feet, grabbed the wakening Rolly under one arm, and tore off out of the alley in a lurching, shambling stumble after the fleeing, flaming Carrot. The crowd parted almost like magic once the screeching Carrot broke out of the end of the side street. Many onlookers pointed and clapped thinking it was part of the show. Azerick and Rusty ran out of the other end and back into the street, the crowd of people thankfully thinning now as most had already made their way to the docks.
The two companions slowed once they were free of the crowds and caught their collective breaths.
“By the god’s, Azerick, I can’t believe that just happened!” Rusty shouted as they came to halt, his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.
“You did well, Rusty. I’ve been fighting those three for years.”
“I set a guy’s head on fire!”
“Yes you did. Congratulations, Rusty, you fought off your first bad guy using magic.”
“Wow, my dad’s never gonna believe this.”
They stayed and watched the fireworks from the roof of one of the buildings before making their way back to The Academy.
CHAPTER 15
The next day, Azerick sat in the classroom with his much younger classmates. A tension of anxiety filled the air as the younger children looked from one to the other. They did not wait long before the source of their anxiety made its appearance. Travis and a few of his friends strolled into the classroom wearing contemptuous sneers on their faces.
“All right, kiddies, time to give it up. Let’s have it,” Travis demanded.
Azerick had gone over this with the kids. They all agreed that if they were going to stand up to their tormentors that they would have to initiate the rebellion themselves and not rely upon him to defend them.
“We’re not giving you anything. It’s ours, so leave us alone,” Gerard stood and said defiantly.
Travis and his friends laughed at the young boy who glared at them boldly. Azerick looked around the room at the frightened faces of the other children and knew that he would have to provide a little motivator to get them to back the brave boy.
“You heard him, Travis. They’re not going to let you push them around anymore, so why don’t you leave them alone?”
“Do you think he can protect you, is that it? Even if his casting ability wasn’t pathetic, he’s still outnumbered by four to one. Now give us the candy or you know what’s going to happen," Travis ominously warned.
From somewhere across the room a girl stood and said no. Immediately, another child stood as well with cry of no, followed by a chorus of standing children all shouting ‘NO’ with anger gleaming in their defiant eyes.
“It looks like you are the ones who are outnumbered now, Travis,” Azerick said in an amused tone.
“Do you really think that a bunch of novices can take us on? You’re going to pay for this, peasant,” Travis threatened then looked around the room, glaring at the children that dared to defy him. “Then you will all pay, just like before.”
“Do it,” Azerick said in quiet but firm voice.
The shouts and chanting of young voices filled the room and brilliant lights erupted into the faces of Travis and his fellow extortionists. Small balls of electrical energy stung them from a dozen different directions. Azerick added his own spell to those of his diminutive allies and the floor beneath the bullies’ feet was suddenly too slippery to stand on. All four bullies' fell to the ground when they tried to move away from the numerous stinging attacks.
Azerick shoved a writing desk at Travis. It slid across the slick floor and slammed into him, knocking him back down as he tried to get to his feet. Other children started hurling books, quill and scroll cases, and anything else they could get their tiny hands on to enact their revenge against the boys that had tormented them for the last two years.
Azerick and his miniature minions broke off their attack and bolted from the room en masse; heading for the stairs before Travis and his cohorts could regain their composure.
“Get up and go after them, you idiots,” Travis commanded, slipping and crawling toward the door. They managed to make it out of the classroom, gained the hallway, and bolted after the fleeing novices as Azerick and the younger students bounded down the stairs.
The fleeing squad of children ducked into a room at the bottom of the stairs as Azerick drew upon the last bit of arcane power he could muster. He repeated the same spell that had caused Travis and his gang to lose their footing in the classroom and waited at the bottom of the steps. He could hear the pounding footsteps coming down the stairs in pursuit and watched as the four poured out onto the landing above.
“You’re dead, gutter filth!” Travis shouted down at him as the boys surged down the stairs after their quarry.
The cha
rge turned into tumult as they stepped upon the sabotaged steps below and tumbled into a heap at Azerick's feet.
“Now!” Azerick shouted at his troops.
The children came running from the room and fell upon their attackers with a vengeance. Tiny feet kicked out at the struggling tangled mass of bodies while others bombarded the prone forms with opened bottles of ink.
“Stop this, stop this at once! Break it up!” came the command of Magus Allison Bauer, Azerick and the children’s instructor.
She waded into the chaotic mass of children, pulling and pushing the younger children off the bruised, ink-stained, and humiliated group lying on the floor. She dispelled the slippery effect coating the stairs with a simple command and gesture, grabbed Travis and Azerick by the upper arm, and proceeded to frog march them upstairs.
“The rest of you follow me to the classroom so I can get this sorted out,” She ordered the rest of the students.
She dropped the arms of the two apprehended boys as she surveyed the damage to her classroom, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“What have you all done to my class?”
“They attacked us, all of them, on his command!” shouted Travis.
“They came here to steal all of the kids' candy. I just told them how to defend themselves,” Azerick said, defending his actions.
“Nonsense, Travis is from a very influential family and would never have to stoop to something so far beneath him. Let us go see the Headmaster and see what he thinks of your slander,” Magus Bauer said. “The rest of you children are to clean up this mess before I return.”
Once again, Azerick found himself before Headmaster Dondrian. However, this time he was not alone. Seated to the right of the Headmaster sat Magus Allister, a severe and disapproving look upon his countenance. Magus Bauer stood behind the miscreants as they awaited judgment.
The Sorcerer's Ascension (The Sorcerer's Path) Page 31
