by Nick McNeil
“Bad luck?” the twins questioned.
Bertly gave a nervous laugh. “He may or may not have gone through six masters in his first year.”
Polly almost choked on her food. “Six masters? Oh my. Cordelia bless his soul.”
“Who would agree to be his sixth master?” Orin shouted.
“What an idiot,” Orîn finished.
“You have really chosen an apprentice with great potential, Bertly.” Small tears formed in the corners of Polly’s eyes from laughter.
“And I am sure your apprentice is so much better—aren’t they, Polly?” Bertly crossed his arms and gave Polly a dirty look.
Polly’s laugh halted. She cleared her throat and looked down at the table. “Well, his master actually did pass recently.”
Bertly rolled his eyes.
Polly continued. “He served four years with his old master, so he will actually only be doing one year with me before moving on to the Mastery program.” Polly perked up. “It’s quite funny. He is actually a year older than me. But I am his master.”
“That is funny.” The twins giggled.
“When do you meet this older gentleman, Polly?” Bertly teased.
“He is actually supposed to meet us here for dinner. He should be here any minute.” Polly peered into the dining hall. “Look out for a blond elf with a black streak in his hair.”
Bertly did not have any intention of actively looking for Polly’s new apprentice; however, he could not help but gaze over the crowd. Without much searching, Bertly spotted the lofty blond elf entering the dining hall. The man was the tallest head in the room, with biceps and pectorals that were clear even through his clothing. Bertly could see his defined jawline from across the room. Please do not have a black streak in your hair, Bertly silently begged of the elf, but of course, the elf turned his head, and running down his luscious blond hair like a skinny waterfall was a midnight-black strip of shiny hair.
Bertly’s tongue slipped. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“What was that, Bertly?” Polly asked.
Bertly cleared his throat. “Oh, I was saying I think I see him.” Bertly pointed.
“That must be him.” Polly stood on top of her seat. “Devdan!” Polly shouted, waving her hand at the elf.
The crowd parted for the elf as he walked over to meet Polly. Nearly the whole dining room—men and women alike—appeared to watch him as he marched by with his air of magnificence. Bertly barely repressed an annoyed grunt.
“You must be Polly. Please call me Dev.” Devdan extended his hand toward Polly and slightly bent his knees to be more eye level with her. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to being your apprentice this year.” Devdan kissed her hand. “I hope to serve you well.”
Polly’s cheeks grew red. “The pleasure is all mine.” Polly slipped her hand away and giggled.
“I hope to serve you well,” Bertly mocked under his breath.
“These are my friends.” Polly gestured toward the twins and Bertly. “This is Bertly.”
Bertly waved with what he was sure was a blank look on his face. He could tell he already did not like Polly’s new apprentice.
Dev smiled and placed his hand on Bertly’s shoulder. “I cannot wait to spend more time together this year, Bertly.” His resting hand felt like the best massage Bertly had ever received. “You have built quite the reputation around campus.” Devdan turned his head toward the twins.
“Twin dwarves,” Dev shouted. “You must be Orin and Orîn. Your father is a legend.”
“None other.” Orin and Orîn sprang up and bowed.
“You really have made the right friends, Polly,” Dev said with a radiant smile. “Please forgive me, but I must be off. I have a meeting with Master Grukkas soon.”
“The combat teacher?” the twins asked.
“That is correct. I meet with her every night for personal training. I have to defend my title at the Clash Tournament this year,” Dev replied.
“You won the Clash Tournament?” Bertly shouted.
“Two years running. I plan to make it a third.” Dev winked. “Do you plan to enter this year, Bertly?”
“I plan to win this year,” Bertly said.
“I love the enthusiasm, Bertly.” Dev rubbed Bertly’s back. “I will see you all very soon.” Dev strolled off, causing the dining hall to once again come to a stop to simply watch him walk away.
“You really found a winner, Polly,” the twins shouted.
“I am so excited. He seems like a joy.” Polly turned to Bertly. “I cannot wait to meet your apprentice. When did you say you’ll meet him?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Bertly groaned.
***
The next morning, Bertly was less than enthusiastic about waiting for Miss Dots outside the registrar’s office. He was inclined to show up late after Dev had crushed his confidence; however, he did not want to disrespect Miss Dots after she had done the favor of finding him an apprentice at the very last minute.
“You showed up,” Miss Dots said as she lumbered around the corner. “The last three masters have gotten cold feet.”
“I want to get my certificate as soon as possible.” Bertly opened the door for Miss Dots. “My new apprentice will just be a small barrier.”
“It may be worth waiting another year. Better than this being your last year.” Miss Dots flopped behind her desk. Bertly briefly pondered what Miss Dots said, but brushed it off because he was the first red-eyed human who had existed since Cordelia herself. If anything, it was he, Bertly, who was the exception.
“You can take a seat right over there until your apprentice arrives,” Miss Dots said.
Bertly headed for the comfy-looking chair in the corner.
“Are you Master Bertly?”
Bertly heard a weak and annoying voice. He turned. Standing in front of him was a chunky elf who looked five years too young to be in the Academy. He had dry and disorganized black hair that was cut so terribly, Bertly was sure the elf had done it himself. His arms were too small for his body—they dangled worthlessly at his sides. His legs were short and shaking, with his feet pointing in different directions.
***
“Sir!” Roderick shouted. “That is not at all how your apprentice looked.” Roderick’s face had turned red.
“That is exactly how I remember him.” Bertly stuck his nose in the air and reclined onto his massive bed.
“I am sorry, sir, but you are delusional.” Roderick threw his quill onto the table and crossed his arms. “That is not how that striking elf looked…sir.”
Bertly looked over at Roderick. “So tell me, Roderick, how would you describe my apprentice?”
“Well, sir, I am glad you asked.” Roderick snatched his quill and started writing.
***
Bertly heard a deep and intimidating voice. He turned. Standing in front of him was a mature elf who looked old enough to already be a master. He had gorgeous black hair that resembled the midnight sky itself. His arms were toned, and he had legs so firm, they appeared to be planted into the ground—
***
Bertly shot up. “Roderick, this is absolute blasphemy. Have you no memory at all?”
“I am an elf, sir, my memory is actually quite superb,” Roderick shouted.
A loud growl filled the room. The tone was deep enough to feel the vibrations in one’s chest. Roderick’s eyes widened as he shot back in his chair.
“Look, you have gone and upset the furry bed.” Bertly pet the brown fur he was lying on. “Can we please get back on topic?” Bertly reclined onto the bed.
Roderick glared at Bertly. “Yes, sir.”
***
Bertly heard a slightly annoying but tolerable voice utter his name. He turned. Standing before him was an average elf, with average-looking black hair, and who was, in general, very average.
“That is I. Who is asking?” Bertly replied.
&nb
sp; The elf stood up straight and splashed a giant smile across his face. “Hello, sir, I am your new apprentice, Roderick.”
XI
Bertly shoved his way through the crowded hallways with his apprentice following close behind. He was anxious to take Roderick to room 782. It was Bertly’s main dwelling place, and Roderick had no clue just how much that room meant to him, nor how much time they would be spending there.
“Where exactly are we going, sir? I have never been to this part of the castle,” Roderick shouted, trying his best to talk over the sound of all the students bustling through the corridors.
“To your new sanctuary, apprentice.” Bertly turned and started walking backwards so he could face Roderick. A sly smile was forming in the corners of his mouth. “A place where we can experiment with magic freely.” Bertly knocked over two elves as he carelessly walked backwards through the hallways, not stopping to help them up or even apologize for his offenses. “An abode to build and create our own masterpieces.”
Roderick’s eyes lit up. “Unbelievable, sir. I can’t believe the Academy gave you special approval to enchant items.”
Bertly came to a sudden halt, causing Roderick to bump into his chest. Bertly slapped his hand over Roderick’s mouth. “Quiet. Are you trying to get us expelled?” Bertly leaned in. “Obviously, we are not allowed to enchant items. But rules are meant for the weak. Ones who need protecting.” Bertly let go of Roderick. “First lesson, Roderick, do not question what is or is not against the rules. Only question what will or will not make you a better sorcerer.” Bertly turned back around and passed through the hallways facing forward. Master and apprentice continued through the corridors until they reached an area where students no longer visited. “And here we are, 782,” Bertly announced.
“Seven hundred eighty-two?” Roderick scratched his head. “But, sir, I thought all the rooms were odd-numbered in the Academy.”
Bertly smiled and tapped his nose. “Ah, all but one.” Bertly opened the door to a small room stocked with gadgets and gizmos—a room where weapons and shields lined the walls, and miscellaneous items cluttered the desks and surfaces. On a workbench near the front of the room, the twins were fiddling with a mug. “This is our workshop. The twins and I have been coming here nearly every day for the past three years. This is the classroom of my master.” Bertly lost his smile. He wished Alestar could’ve met Roderick. Alestar would’ve been proud to see his apprentice as a master.
“Hello, Bertly,” Orin shouted.
“And other Bertly,” Orîn cracked. Orin was tightening screws on a mug while Orîn held his hands around it. Bertly could tell Orîn was trying to enchant the mug.
Bertly gestured toward Roderick. “Orins, this is my apprentice, Roderick.”
“Greetings, Rod,” the twins replied.
Roderick stepped into the room. “Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s quite a—”
“He has a baby face, Bertly,” Orîn interrupted.
“Are you sure he is over ten?” Orin added.
Bertly glanced at Roderick and tried his best not to laugh. His stomach started to hurt from restricting himself.
“I am actually fourteen,” Roderick snapped.
“Now, now, baby-faced apprentice, do not take what they say seriously.” Bertly bent in close enough for only Roderick to hear. “Their brains match their size.” Bertly winked.
Roderick grinned. “Did you build all these items yourself, sir?”
“With the help of the dwarves and Polly, we created most of what you see here.” Bertly twirled in a circle with his arms sprawled out. He was excited to finally share his workplace with another student. Until now he had always kept his workshop just between himself, the twins, and Polly.
“Bertly, come check this out,” the twins interjected.
Bertly strolled over to the workbench at which the twins were sitting. Orin held the mug in the air. It was made of smooth wood and had three small switches on the side of it.
“Push here and it’ll keep your drink warm,” Orin explained.
“Great for tea,” Orîn said.
Orîn snatched the mug out of Orin’s hand. “Push here and it’ll make it cold.”
“Fascinating,” Bertly said. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he turned his head to view the various working parts of the mug. “What about the third switch?”
“We don’t know yet. It’s just in case,” the twins replied.
Bertly chuckled, then snatched the mug and examined it more carefully. The sound of a test tube breaking came from the back of the classroom.
Bertly jerked his head. He was unable to catch everything—however, he saw the last moments of Roderick’s fall to the floor. When Roderick hit the ground, his back foot knocked a broom that was propped against a nearby worktable, and the handle of the broom—on its way to the floor—collided with a bottle filled with blue liquid, which was resting on top of the workbench. As Roderick began pushing himself up, the vial crashed onto his head, dousing him in the blue liquid. Roderick’s entire body froze. Small ice crystals covered the surface of his figure.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Bertly said.
The twins let out an outrageous laugh. “He really is bad luck.”
A small muffled noise came out of Roderick’s iced-over body. “I an ill er ing oo aye.” The twins and Bertly stiffened. They fixated their attention on Roderick, who was failing at an attempt to articulate something to the group. “I an till her thing you aye.”
“Sweet Cordelia, he is fully conscious.” Bertly snapped his fingers, and the ice around Roderick’s body turned to liquid.
“I can still hear everything you say,” Roderick pushed out as he gasped for air.
“Outstanding, some of your senses stayed fully intact,” Bertly said as he examined Roderick.
“Interesting indeed,” the twins yelled.
Roderick stood up and wrung out the bottom of his shirt. “What was that, sir?”
Bertly snapped his fingers again. A gust of wind shot across the classroom, causing papers to flutter through the air. Roderick fell back onto his rear. His clothes were completely dried. “It’s a freeze potion. Nothing you won’t be able to construct by the end of the year,” Bertly replied.
Bertly walked over to Roderick and extended his hand to help him to his feet. “I sure hope this bad-luck gossip is nothing more than a rumor. We have a spirit quest in just a handful of cycles.”
Roderick gasped. “Sir! You are kidding, right?” He looked Bertly in the eyes intensely; it seemed as though he were waiting for him to crack a smile. “Most masters and apprentices are together for at least two or three years before going on any sort of intensive quest, let alone a spirit quest.”
Bertly rolled his eyes. “Lesson two—do not worry about what others typically do or do not do. If someone has never done something before, then be the first to do it.”
“I see.” Roderick glanced over the room, looking at all the various knickknacks. “So, where are we going, sir?”
“I like the attitude adjustment, apprentice. Come, follow me.” Bertly strolled across the room and over to a map that was pinned on the wall. The map was a fully detailed depiction of Pangea, with every mountain and lake drawn on it. All the major cities and realms were labeled in fine detail. “We are going to the mountains just behind Noskar. The Academy is here, at the most northern part of Pangea.” Bertly poked his finger on the symbol of the castle and dragged it across the map. “We will travel all the way here, to the most western reach of the world.”
Roderick gasped. “Sir, that is quite the journey. I thought most don’t travel more than a couple of nights beyond the Academy. Won’t going to Noskar take at least…” Roderick started counting on his fingers.
Bertly held out his hand, offering it to Roderick. Roderick looked at him with confusion. “I thought you might need a few more fingers.” Bertly busted up laughing. “I will do t
he math for you; the trip will take about forty nights.”
“Forty!” Roderick shouted.
“Most of that will be traveling. It should only take two days to get through the mountains. My father has taken me through those mountains more times than I can count. Plus, we will have help carrying all the equipment. Polly and…her apprentice will be tagging along.” Bertly remembered how much he disliked Dev. He was not dreading the trip with Polly so much—he had learned to almost tolerate her. But Dev, he was an entirely new type of annoyance.
“Sir, if you don’t mind, why are we going all the way to the Noskar Mountains? Don’t most students retrieve their spirit quest item from somewhere more…local?” Roderick stuttered.
“That is a fair question, little elf. I am sure that traveling to the human realm was not on your list of things to do.” Bertly walked over to a nearby bookshelf. He ran his finger across the book bindings as he browsed the titles. He stopped at the book titled Famous Creatures and Beasts and Monsters and slipped it off the shelf. He began to swipe swiftly through the pages. “Aha.” Bertly walked back over to Roderick and slammed the book on a worktable next to the world map. “Take a look here, Roderick. This, this is the most famous creature in all of Noskar.”
“Incredible, sir, the sheer size seems unfathomable,” Roderick said.
“Growing up, Polly and I heard countless tales and stories about this beast. We have both been mesmerized by him since we were children.”
“Are you talking about Cordelia’s dragon?” the twins interrupted. Bertly had almost forgotten they were in the room. The twins had a knack for falling quieter than an elf mouse when they were focused.
“Yes, boys, I am,” Bertly replied. “Sweet Cordelia’s dragon. Polly and I are going to each retrieve a scale and bring it back. Many have brought back dragon scales over the centuries, but none have brought back a scale from the King of all Dragons.”
“Sir, don’t you think there may be a reason no one has ever returned with one of his scales?” Roderick asked.
