by Gregory Heal
Jen felt tears forming. “How am I supposed to sleep now? My whole life’s been turned upside down.”
Victor said nothing, only looked at her with sorrowful understanding.
Finally, after gathering her wits and calming down again, she said firmly, “I would like to see them now.”
Victor nodded, not taking his eyes from the floor. “If that’s what you wish.” Victor pushed himself from the counter, grabbed his silver staff, and waved for Jen to follow him through the doorway.
Opening the door farther revealed a circular cottage built of stone. Jen admired the archaic tapestries hanging from the walls. Sconces bearing lit torches framed each of the windows.
Victor tapped his staff twice on the ground, commanding in a booming voice, “Venere!”
“CEEEE-AAAAWWW!” came a shriek from outside.
Startled, Jen looked around to see a large creature land just outside the window closest to her, flapping its wings as it dropped from the sky. It was like nothing Jen had witnessed before: the head, talons, and wings of an eagle, but the body, hind legs, and tail of a lion. Its muscles rippled underneath its tawny lion hide and its large brown and white eagle feathers shone in the diminishing sunlight.
“What is that?!” Jen exclaimed.
Victor smiled and looked proudly at the noble creature outside. “That, Jen, is a griffin . . . the king of all beasts.”
“Is it your pet?” Jen asked, still entranced by the griffin.
“He’s more of a friend to me than a pet. His name is Skarmor. Would you like to meet him?”
“Sure! I’ve never met a griffin before,” Jen said, not fully believing what she had just agreed to as she followed Victor outside.
As they walked around the cottage’s perimeter, Jen saw a beautiful sunset just above lush, rolling hills. The shadows of the trees and other cottages were slowly stretching across the land. Jen couldn’t put her finger on it, but the place she found herself in was as familiar as it was foreign . . . as if she were still on Earth, but in the far distant past.
At first sight of Victor, Skarmor’s bushy lion tail thumped on the ground. He stood an immense eight feet tall on his front eagle talons, with a wingspan upward of twenty feet. Jen had no doubt that this griffin could fly with ease for hours.
Victor muttered something that Jen couldn’t pick up as he gently touched his forehead to Skarmor’s. The griffin made a soothing sound deep in his throat, and after a few seconds, he brought his head back up to his full height as he noticed Jen.
Turning toward her, Victor started, “Skarmor has been by my side for twenty-five years.” A nostalgic smile flashed across his face as he recalled their first meeting. “I rescued him from a rather cruel group of Hyperborean Giants just north of Thrace. They were going to kill him because he was sickly and weak.” He paused, recounting the memory. “Let’s just say I convinced them otherwise and I took him in. I nursed him back to health, and he’s been my trusty guardian ever since.”
“Wow . . .” Jen breathed, transfixed.
“Would you like to pet him? He won’t bite,” Victor reassured, motioning her to get closer.
Clutching the ring around her neck, Jen cautiously side-stepped her way closer to Skarmor. His eyes, towering above, followed her without blinking.
“That’s it,” Victor said calmly as she came closer, inch by inch. “Don’t make any sudden movements or sounds. He needs to know he can trust you. His most acute senses are sight and hearing, much like every other type of avian. He’ll observe you, just as he is now, to determine if you’re friend or foe. If he deems you trustworthy, he’ll spread his wings.” Victor stepped out of Jen’s way so there was nothing between her and Skarmor. “Stand strong, Jennifer.”
Skarmor slightly twitched his neck downward and cocked his head to one side. Silently, he paced around Jen, who kept herself frozen like a statue. After he made a full circle around her, Skarmor released a piercing cry and spread his wings wide, standing only on his hind legs.
Staying as silent as she could, she craned her head up to look at him. The enormous silhouette of the griffin enveloped Jen in shadow as the bright sun was setting. The mighty creature dropped to his front talons and slowly brought his head to Jen’s until their foreheads touched.
“Ha,” she let out a nervous chuckle. “He likes me?”
“He likes you,” Victor confirmed, off to the side.
Skarmor backed up and sat down. After Victor’s nod of approval, Jen reached out and gingerly put her right hand atop Skarmor’s head. He welcomed it as Jen brought her hand down the back of his head and onto his neck. The feathers felt soft and silky.
“Hey, there,” Jen said with increasing ease.
“Looks like you two will be good friends,” chuckled Victor. “Which is good, since we’ll be riding him out of here.”
Jen stopped petting and, mouth agape, looked at the sorcerer. “Sorry . . . ride him?”
“Of course! Otherwise it’ll take us days to reach the gateway portal,” Victor said, walking toward Skarmor.
“Where in the world is that?” Jen asked.
“Not on Earth, that’s for sure. We are on a planet we call Azumar,” Victor responded, taking in everything around him as if it were the most natural thing in the world—or worlds—to be on a different planet.
Jen snickered, clapping at his joke. “Okay, Vic, good one. Ya got me. Where are we really?” She surveyed the landscape one more time. “This place does not remind me of New York, so I’ll guess New Zealand . . . even though I find it hard to believe that we could’ve traveled there so quickly.” She crossed her arms.
Victor straightened and looked around in every direction, as if this were his first time here as well. “Now that you mention it, it does kind of look like New Zealand.” He chuckled as he spun his staff in his hand. “But my answer is still the same: we’re on Azumar.”
He’s serious.
“Time out,” Jen said, trying to wrap her mind around what she was experiencing. This was getting to be too much for her. Hours after her twenty-first birthday, her boyfriend had turned out to be a complete stranger, a mysterious man had saved her from him and had miraculously healed her broken bones, she was told that she was adopted and was related to powerful sorcerers, and now she was supposed to believe that she was not on Earth, but a completely different planet.
How is this not a dream?
Jen could feel the beginnings of another headache in the back of her skull. Rubbing her temples with her fingers, she looked at the ground beneath her feet, focusing on a few rather long blades of grass as strands of her wavy hair cascaded into her vision. Jen closed her eyes and said, “This is . . . impossible.”
“I know this is a lot to take in, especially after what you’ve just been through. But you need to believe me.” Victor held out a hand, smiling sympathetically. “Do you need to sit down?”
“No . . .” Jen ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it from her face. “I think I’ll be fine, thanks.” Rolling a new-found stiffness from her neck, she cleared her throat and took a few breaths before asking, “Is Azumar even in our solar system?”
“Not in our solar system, nor our galaxy—nor even our universe.”
“What? So, like, a different dimension?”
“Yes, I suppose that’s technically what it is, though we call it a realm,” Victor replied. “Over countless centuries, sorcerers have discovered hotspots on Earth which channel energy from other realms—the Bermuda Triangle, Easter Island, and Stonehenge, for example. Magic has helped us understand these mystical doorways and travel through them at our whim.”
Skarmor was patiently waiting, preening his feathers, as if he’d heard Victor’s explanations before.
“Unreal.” Jen stared at her surroundings with renewed admiration. “Why not choose to live on Earth?”
“Azumar is our safe haven to practice sorcery and magic without the judgmental eyes of human society,” Victor explained, his voice now
serious. “We learned quickly that non-believers fear what they don’t understand, and they’ve proven unable take the time to open their minds to the capabilities of magic. So as a result, we were forced to find another home so our religion would no longer be in danger of dying off.”
“I’ve never really thought about it that way . . .” Jen was reminded of the Salem witch trials and the atrocities committed there—and that had been when the witchcraft hadn’t even been real. Surely that only fanned the flame of fear of sorcery. “Though why would I? I never believed magic was actually real until yesterday.”
“Magic is all around us—we just have to choose to see it.” Victor winked and, with a quick running start, leapt onto Skarmor’s back, extending his hand down to her. “Ready, Jen?”
“Sure . . .” she said hesitantly. She accepted Victor’s outstretched hand and swung into a sitting position behind him. She saw no seatbelt or something to cling to. “Do I—”
“Wrap your hands around my waist and hold tight. Flying on a griffin takes some getting used to.” Turning forward, Victor commanded Skarmor to take flight.
Jen put her arms around Victor and felt the large feathers beneath her move as the griffin spread his wings and stood up. Jen wobbled a bit as Skarmor turned to an open path, screeched, and began to bound toward the nearest hillcrest. His strides were long as he built up speed, and when he reached the top of the hill he jumped high into the air.
Instinctively, Jen bunched her eyes shut and tightened her hold around Victor’s waist as her breath involuntarily caught in her throat. After hearing a faint chuckle from Victor and not feeling the tickling sensation of falling, she slowly opened up one eye to see them completely free from the ground, the verdant landscape far beneath her feet.
Easing her grip, Jen smiled and deeply inhaled the fresh Azumarian air. She was surprised to hear herself whoop in pure elation as Victor’s cottage receded in the shadow-filled distance.
Two strong flaps of Skarmor’s wings steadied them in the air and they soared smoothly into Azumar’s sunset.
Chapter Three
Malcolm screamed in frustration. He toppled the table in front of him, sending his books, candles, and potions to the ground with a loud crash. His cavernous chamber made the cacophony of falling books, splintering wood, and tinkling glass sound like an avalanche.
Since he fled from the battle with Victor, Malcolm had been furious—furious that he’d spent months getting close to Jen Lancaster, only to have her slip through his fingers at the last possible moment; furious that he hadn’t beat his former master to a pulp. He was stronger than Victor—he knew it—but Victor had surprise and luck on his side that night.
Next time you won’t be so lucky, Victor, thought the irate dark sorcerer. He had something up his sleeve that would make their paths cross again. And when the time came . . .
Heavy footfalls echoed through the corridor outside until a mass of stone walked through the doorway. Malcolm looked up to see a hulking golem crouch through the doorframe.
“I didn’t call for you, you dimwit!” he yelled, hurling the nearest object at the door. “Leave me alone!”
The stone giant silently stared at him for a few moments with black, soulless eyes before turning around and walking back out of the chamber. It nicked the side of the doorframe with one of its chiseled shoulders, causing the centuries-old wooden frame to splinter. Malcolm was too angry, too tired, to reprimand the clumsy beast; he just clenched his jaw until the ringing in his ears became too loud to continue.
Sniffling from a cold he had caught from Victor’s subzero spell, Malcolm shuffled over to the mess on the ground and picked up a time-worn book. Righting the now slightly bent table, he lit a candle and opened the book to where he’d left off.
“The time is coming, My Lord,” whispered Malcolm as he flipped through the pages, searching for clues as to where the Halostone might rest. With an evil grin, he fantasized about the day he would bring his true master back to the land of the living.
Chapter Four
The night brought a cool nip to the air, which kept Jen awake, though she wasn’t that cold with Victor blocking most of the wind. It was hard to imagine that they had been flying for over an hour, as Jen found herself in utter rapture as they glided through the air hundreds of feet above the rolling hills. Trees, valleys, rivers, and other cottages whizzed by, leaving Jen to only guess at how fast they were traveling.
Looking over Victor’s shoulder, Jen started to make out faint lights glimmering in the distance. As they flew closer, the lights formed a large oval the size of a tennis court. Around it were cheering spectators. There seemed to be a contest of some sort involving two men. One looked to be Jen’s age, the other as old as Victor.
Jen pointed toward the activity. “What’s happening down there?”
Victor looked to where Jen was pointing. “That’s the last part of the Sorcerer Trials, where a tenderfoot must duel his or her mystra. For this specific duel, if that boy scores enough points, he will pass and be bestowed the rank of paladin.”
Jen was perplexed. “Tenderfoot? What’s that?”
“A tenderfoot is what we call an apprentice of sorcery.”
“And mystra?”
Victor chuckled at Jen’s boundless questions. “A master.”
“How many ranks are there?” Jen asked, not missing a beat.
Over the wind, Victor said, “There are four. You start as a tenderfoot, then, through training and the successful completion of the Sorcery Trials, you rise to become a paladin, an advanced level of sorcery. Mystra is the next rank. There have been many mystras throughout the millennia, but few ever reach the fourth and final rank of grand mystra, Those who earn the privilege of attaining grand mystra status have reached true harmony with their nexus and are given a spot on the Elder Synod, the presiding ministry of the Sorcery Guild.” Victor turned back to look her in the eye. “Some of your ancestors were grand mystras, Jen.”
Jen smiled, then quickly looked away, feeling conflicted. She was proud of her supposed heritage, making her feel as if she should follow in her ancestors’ footsteps; but at the same time, she also felt devoted to her life back home in New York. For as long as she could remember, Jen had wanted to become a doctor so she could help people in their time of need. Now, she needed to reevaluate her future. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt an irresistible calling to this new world—a world she hadn’t even known existed a day before.
Her thoughts slowly lifted away like leaves in a breeze as her eyes locked back on the spectacle in the distance. They were getting closer to the dancing lights, making it possible for Jen to see the individuals instead of only their black silhouettes. A duel was underway, and Jen saw colorful lights shoot out from both of the sorcerers’ hands almost simultaneously.
As they passed, Jen let go of Victor to get a better look and slipped. Victor’s hand shot out and grabbed Jen’s arm, right before she slid off of Skarmor. There was no time to scream and before Jen knew it, Victor had pulled her back onto Skarmor and firmly, but nicely, said, “Hold on tightly . . . and do not let go.”
“Right.” Jen nodded, eyes wide open and heart thumping.
Twenty more minutes passed as they flew through the night. Jen hoped that the tenderfoot won his match. Something inside her awakened, making her wish that she would be given that opportunity in the future, the thought of which gave her a mix of excitement and dread to be embarking on this new life, filled with new possibilities . . . and dangers.
Jen’s eyelids were becoming heavy as Skarmor gently settled to the ground. After another hour of flying, they were finally at their destination.
The Gate of Eternal Flame.
Victor masterfully dismounted his loyal griffin and offered his hand to Jen, which she accepted appreciatively.
Dropping to the ground, Jen scratched the underside of Skarmor’s neck and said, “Thanks, boy.”
Skarmor made a sound deep within his throat, enjoying
Jen’s affection. Patting the griffin on the side of his neck, she turned her attention to the large, dark cave that seemed to beckon her inside. It looked ominous, its only light a yellow-orange flame from deep within its maw.
“Welcome to the Gate of Eternal Flame,” Victor announced. “This is one of the many gateways from Azumar to Earth. It is named after the flame on its Earth side, which keeps this portal open. If it should ever be extinguished, this portal will be forever lost.”
“How many gates are there?”
“At least fifteen, but some of them don’t lead to Azumar. There are other more foreign—and more treacherous—realms that you can stumble into,” Victor warned.
“Not all realms are good. Got it.”
Skarmor cawed as if in agreement.
Victor patted Skarmor as he looked at Jen. “Trust me.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “We should continue. There’s a deep river that runs through the middle of this cave, so follow my steps closely.” The sorcerer manifested an orb of bright light to help Jen see the terrain of the craggy landscape of the cave.
In awe, she brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a surprised laugh. “Okay. Can you please teach me that trick so the next time my apartment’s electricity shorts out, I can still do the dishes?”
Victor glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “All in due time, my dear.” His voice bounced all around them as they stepped farther into the cave.
Jen immediately noticed the river Victor had mentioned. The water looked to be rushing, but it made no sound to indicate a fast-moving stream. They walked alongside it, Victor leading Jen and Skarmor.
Drip . . . drip . . . drip . . .
Every so often Jen could hear drops of water from the stalactites all around them, echoing through the interminable cave. As they proceeded deeper and deeper, she felt a sense of calmness envelop her, despite her claustrophobic nature. Jen felt safe with Victor, even though she barely knew the man. That sense of familiarity she had felt when she first awakened in Victor’s cottage resurfaced as she followed him step by step, not wanting to fall into the river, which she imagined was icy cold.
