by R A Lindo
Some of us meet conflict head on whereas others operate behind the scenes — in faculties where new charms, artefacts and remedies are created: magic for all eventualities. With a challenge on the horizon, I study the fading light outside the dining room window. Soon, it will be time to take to the air once again, to a place where ferocious creatures are tamed.
As day fades into early evening, I take a surveillance device out of my trouser pocket. A Panorilum looks like a normal book until you throw it into the air. Once in the air, it unfolds into a large sheet of parchment paper. The parchment hangs in mid-air formed of multiple sections the size of the original book. Each section can show whatever you want to see: people’s whereabouts, possible issues within the Society and all magical realms.
Drandok is the realm in question so Noah, Lucy, Conrad and I sit at the dining table, studying the illustration that fills the Panorilum … drawn to the mountains framing a space most accurately described as a chamber for captured creatures … Riadek struggling in chains as the Domitus assert their control of them.
It looks pretty brutal, to be honest, the Silverbacks roaring as they whip their wings against the chains … some breaking out and escaping to the skies … only to have their flight limited by the group of Society soldiers who stand in a circle below… emotionless as they struggle to contain a ferocious creature’s fury. I’m not sure who’s idea it was to tame dangerous creatures, but it doesn’t look like it’s going entirely to plan.
“No wonder they never smile,” Noah comments as we study the figures darting for cover as a Silverback trashes out its wings in fury. “Imagine that as a job.”
“It makes you wonder who’d sign up to be a Domitus,” Lucy adds, her slender frame hiding an iron will.
“Witches and wizards with a point to prove,” Conrad says, getting up from his chair to stand right next to the Panorilum. He kneels to study the taming range surrounded by mountains. “Maybe they lost their nerve in the last war, choosing to hide in places like Gilweean instead of stepping into battle.”
“Or maybe they just like violence,” I counter, “and Drandok is the perfect place for them.”
Conrad pauses and turns to me, seeming distant. “It could be another way the Society’s managing potential dangers, Guppy, allowing volatile witches and wizards to let off steam.”
“Makes sense,” Noah adds, joining Conrad alongside the Panorilum. “Give them an outlet to stop their violent tendencies spilling inwards.”
“Avoiding another Erent Koll,” Lucy echoes — everyone present knowing full well how that ended.
“So, when are we going?” I ask, getting a little restless cooped up in The Cendryll. As great as the faculty for remedies is, it’s basically home and who wants to sit at home all day, staring at places you’d rather visit.
Drandok isn’t likely to be a barrel of laughs, but it will tell us more about the nature of the Domitus. Why they choose such a dangerous job, for example, and what makes them so humourless.
“Let’s make it the first place to visit tonight,” Lucy replies, determined to put this ‘duel’ thing to bed.
Duel or no duel, we’ll arrive in Drandok on our trusted Williynx: Night Rangers on a mission to learn the art of taming monsters, while keeping an eye out for the humourless pair who appeared in Poridian Parlour last night.
14
Drandok
Evening falls and we gather on the ground floor of The Cendryll, happy to be alone before our journey to Drandok begins. Conversation regarding the potential dangers of a duel faded after it became clear it was intensifying Conrad’s desire.
All Night Rangers are competitive, to a degree, but Conrad takes things to another level. Part of me thinks it’s linked to losing his dad in the last war and the way Theodore died … sacrificing his life in the final phase to secure the Society’s future.
If I’m being honest, I think Conrad bears a secret grudge towards the surviving malevs who vanished when the smoke of war settled, hoping to find a safe haven beyond The Society Sphere. The vastness of the realms existing beyond the S.P.M.A. makes it relatively easy to hide out for a while, but eventually we track them down, leaving it up to The Orium Circle to decide what the punishment should be.
Sometimes, karma takes care of things, like it did with The Sinister Four: the first bullies I met. They used to run the Society library — known as The Pancithon — flexing their Society clout at every opportunity. Their humiliation of Jacob in our early days here stuck with me, so when they all perished in the last brutal battle, I didn’t shed a tear. Things are very different now, obviously, so we have to tread carefully on our journey to Drandok.
We’ve covered our bases by mentioning it to Casper and Philomeena Renn — the two figures you definitely don’t want to cross in The Cendryll. We might be Night Rangers but they’re legends, and when it comes to a matter of judgement The Orium Circle will almost always side with members who have seen and sacrificed so much.
Casper and Philomeena fit into this category so with the clear sense our journey will be watched by them, we ready ourselves for a meeting with the emotionless group who frequent Drandok.
“Ready?” Lucy asks as we take our positions on the edge of the S.P.M.A. logo, dominating the ground floor of The Cendryll.
With a nod from us all, we raise our arms towards the skylight situated directly above, releasing the Spintz charm. Light streaks of colourful energy float towards the skylight … blue, amber, purple and yellow … until they touch the surface, covering the skylight with a kaleidoscope of colour.
It’s our calling card to the Williynx: our feathered companions who never fail to arrive when duty calls. They neither belong to us nor have to respond to our calls, but as long as our intentions are in the interests of the Society, they always have and always will.
I offer Conrad a smile as our arms remained raised, hoping to see his expression soften: a signal he isn’t looking for trouble in Drandok. There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on about his demeanour ... as if he’s struggling with an immovable thought … that the two figures who engaged in a stare down in Poridian Parlour are connected to us in some way, but how?
The light begins to shimmer above, signalling the impending arrival of our Williynx, and moments later they appear through the skylight … the glass turning into liquid form at the touch of their feathers. Our feathered friends glide down in an elegant quartet: fire-red, yellow, turquoise and powder blue. It’s time for the evening surveillance to begin.
We climb onto our Williynx, tapping our legs lightly against their bodies to signal flight and off we go, rising through the hollow chamber of The Cendryll towards the skylight we vanish through seconds later.
The evening skies are relatively quiet, silhouettes of other Night Rangers in the distance, moving towards the realms within their remit — realms beyond the eyes of the above-ground world which operates on its own axis of unimaginative routine. We fly in a synchronised line, passing over Society Square before we reach its margins.
The people entering and leaving buildings are mainly Society members locking up for the evening, either returning to their above-ground dwellings or disappearing into the recesses of the shops … through Periums and the faculties they’re attached to.
I press my face against Laieya’s blue feathers as the wind lifts, listening to her heartbeat as we pick up speed. We blaze past The Winter Quarter and beyond, seeking out a realm few of us have spent any time in: Noah being the exception. It’s the reason Noah recognised Olin and Neve Blin when they appeared in Poridian Parlour, looking out of place the moment they sat at the table in the corner.
Noah’s brief visit to Drandok was to check on the condition of the soldiers said to be hiding the extent of their injuries — injuries sustained in battle or their taming of the Riadek. As always, the Domitus offered little, taking Noah and his old Night Ranger crowd to the stone shelters the soldiers were recuperating in.
Healing remedies such a
s Srynx Serum were soaking into their skin, bandages covering arms and legs to either accelerate the healing or cover up deeper wounds. Tonight will tell us more now the Domitus have decided to leave their realm, stepping into less depressing places like The Shallows, looking for company or trouble.
With my long, brown hair lifting as we fly through the dark skies, I look along the line formed by my Night Ranger comrades … a touch of excitement rising in me at the thought of meeting Olin and Neve Blin again. Bullies don’t last long in the Society so if they end up falling into this category, they’ll be dealt with accordingly.
“Quivvens at the ready,” Conrad says, sensing we’re closing in on Drandok.
A Quivven is what we use for protection once we’re beyond The Society Sphere, the colour of our penchant stones fading as we do so. A Quivven is a small, brass hexagon that you push into your flesh — not as bad as it sounds.
Once buried safely, it glows in the colour of your penchant stone, mine glowing a bright blue underneath my right wrist. I doubt we’re going to need any protection, but no Society soldier ignores their instincts. Drandok deals in danger — of the creature kind — so it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The mountains framing Drandok dominate the night sky. I can just make out cells cut into the stone at the foot of the mountains where, I imagine, the Riadek are kept. We choose to stay in the sky on our arrival, lighting up the darkness with a string of Promesiun charms: ribbons of light to signal solidarity. Whatever awaits us below, our focus is investigation.
If we end up in a fire fight, it will be in retaliation to an attack. A duel is to be avoided, if possible, our aim to see exactly how the ferocious Silverbacks are tamed and the cost of such a choice. Authorised by the S.P.M.A., it’s a job that attracts a certain type of character.
Strings of light appear from the ground, circling as they rise above the mountains, followed by an incredible roar flooding the air as one of the cells cut into the mountains opens — the sight of a vast, armoured creature whipping against its chains ready to face its captors once more.
“Slow and steady,” I say, nodding for us to make our descent, our Quivvens glowing underneath our skin as we do.
“Still in the mood for a duel?” Noah prompts, glancing at Conrad who remains silent on the back of his turquoise Williynx, clearly troubled by a recurring thought he can’t shake.
Our descent continues, staying within the rings of light that hover above the mountains: a taming chamber acting as safe space for submission. There’s no sign of Odin and Neve Blin yet so I study the figures in grey, circling the restricted Silverback. As black smoke appears from their hands, I begin to understand how they work their magic … a combination of pure and dark charms … authorised by The Orium Circle to contain threats.
This in itself isn’t a shock. One of the key changes to Society law was the acceptance that dark magic could not simply be banned and ignored: it had to be mastered and understood, to be used in exceptional circumstances.
How and when it should be applied is a more complex question, the distorted power of Gorrah (dark magic) having a hypnotising effect on underworld creatures. Something about the sight of black smoke — a symbol of the Niavak curse — makes me uneasy, though.
It’s cruel and unnecessary … as if the Domitus are enjoying punishing the Silverback which roars in pain. There are other ways to tame giants so I kick my legs against Laieya, instructing my Williynx to descend further, ready to engage the emotionless soldiers in more than distant recognition.
“Guppy?” comes Conrad’s call, but I don’t look back, my instinctive dislike of cruelty kicking in. Maybe a duel is going to be needed after all.
As I hover above the taming cell, I feel the tension in Laieya’s body, her powder-blue feathers standing to attention at the sight of a threat below. My whispered reassurances are enough to keep her in position, holding off any sudden ice blasts that will trigger carnage.
With Conrad, Lucy and Noah appearing alongside me, I signal towards the black smoke filling the cell … the sight of the Domitus’ faces covered by a web, courtesy of the Weveris charm.
“They’re enjoying it,” I say as another roar rips through the sky. “Who needs to use a Niavak curse to tame an injured Silverback already in chains?”
“You don’t know that, Guppy,” Lucy says, her expression suggesting concern.
I can tell she thinks I’m going to do something stupid, but she’s wrong. My days of impulsive reaction are behind me — experience teaching me that it often leads to more problems than it solves. We’re here to study the art of taming: a dark art, in my opinion, making me wonder how much the Society elders know about the precise methods of taming used, and if they even care.
Some could argue that you have to fight fire with fire, meaning the use of curses to mute a dangerous creature’s venom is acceptable, but where does that trend lead…? I know exactly where: down paths we don’t need to go again.
“Take it easy, Guppy,” Conrad states as he moves alongside me on his turquoise Williynx. “Let’s find a place to rest in the mountains, making it clear we’re not leaving anytime soon. Then we descend when the performance is over, giving us a chance to work out what’s really going on.”
“It’s not as if The Orium Circle doesn’t know what’s going on here,” Noah adds as we manoeuvre our feathered companions to the mountain face, looking for a platform to witness a strange sorcery from.
“You’d think,” Lucy replies.
“Unless they’re authorising torture, that is,” I counter, “which is what this is.”
“Let’s just wait this out to find out more,” Conrad suggests, climbing off his Williynx once we reach a platform to rest on. “Look, the smoke’s dying away now they realise we’re watching them. I guarantee Olin and Neve are down there somewhere, hiding in whatever secret spaces the mountains offer.”
“What are you thinking, Conrad?” Noah prompts.
“That they planned this whole thing to get us out here.”
“What for?”
Conrad doesn’t reply but no reply is needed, and as I sit alongside him I ready myself for the conflict awaiting us below.
“It’s a performance,” I say to break the silence, our Quivvens glowing in the darkness. “A performance to make us react, drawing us into a situation that can be turned against us.”
“Looks like someone down there’s got a grudge,” Lucy adds.
“Exactly,” Conrad replies, swinging his legs over the mountain edge, “so let’s give them something to think about.”
With that, he stands and whispers ‘Weveris’, releasing a vast, black web that he directs towards the Silverback who staggers under the cursed smoke, shrieking in pain. He’s skilled enough to camouflage the web, masking it in the evening light until it falls over the Silverback.
As the injured creature’s roars intensify, Conrad turns to us, already in position astride our Williynx, nodding for the final descent to begin, towards our meeting with a strange breed of soldier drawn to cruelty and domination.
15
Taming Fury
The figure who meets us on the ground is less than welcoming, maintaining a degree of civility expected of all Society members. Dressed in grey trousers and a loose-fitting shirt worn by all Domitus, the bearded figure waits for us to dismount from our Williynx before speaking.
“You have no authority to interfere with our procedures.”
I study the small group with him, recognising none of them. There are more Domitus guarding the cages built into the mountain walls — the imprisoned Silverbacks eyeing their captors with restrained fury. The whole place has a strange energy as if containing such a creature goes against logic, but logic changes with circumstances and The Society knows only too well the danger of ignoring dark forces.
“We have the authority to go wherever we please,” Conrad replies, his tanzanite Quivven glowing in his neck.
“Which doesn’t include interference,”
the bearded figure repeats, not particularly tall but striking in build, muscles bursting through his loose, grey shirt.
I doubt they’ll do him much good in a firefight with witches and wizards of equal skill, but we’re trying to avoid that so I step in, offering the bearded stranger a forced smile.
“We met two of your crew last night in The Shallows: Poridian Parlour to be exact.”
“And?”
“And we thought they were up to something … being all weird … sitting in silence and staring us out.”
“Silence is valued here, Miss Grayling.”
Here goes the Miss again: a reminder of the contempt some Society elders have for us.
“As well as torture?” I reply, offering the bearded muscle man another smile.
His expression doesn’t change. Instead, he turns to whisper to the two men on either side of him. I glance at Noah and Lucy who seem agitated by something, gesturing for me to look back. The clatter of the cage behind me suggests we’ve interrupted the taming process ... one that isn’t going to be put on hold due to our arrival.
It’s another sign of intimidation from the Domitus. With our Williynx hovering in mid-air — secret weapons should we need them — I respond as I always do in such circumstances, rising to the challenge.
“Let’s see it then,” I demand, holding the muscle-man’s gaze.
This gets a loud laugh from the crew until I whip out a Promesiun charm to release the Riadek: my first impulsive move for a while. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words, and this action wipes the smile off their faces pretty quickly.
Noah and Lucy aren’t smiling either, but I catch Conrad’s expression in my peripheral vision: the boy who’s aligned to me in principle and spirit. The Spintz charms remain active above us, following our movements as another roar rings through the mountains.
