Prioress Evelyn was looking for a book.
Not the personal Tome of some ancient [Dragon-Mage] or a novel to pass the time, though the Order’s library housed plenty of both in its labyrinthine passages.
She wandered through the widely-spaced dark oak shelves, making the acolyte at the desk nervous as she muttered to herself, up and down the length of the library.
It was late, and the instructor who manned the library had left for the night along with her leathery old dragon, leaving only the acolyte.
Evelyn was looking for a particular book, something that she thought could be of some use to Kalin, the novice who hadn’t bonded a dragon. It was something she’d read long ago, and she couldn’t quite say what about it she thought would help the young man, but it was worth a shot. Gods knew she didn’t have much else to offer the lad, except for her sympathy and a place at the abbey, if he wanted it. She hoped it wasn’t the case, but she couldn’t help but feel as the head of the outpost that she was responsible for his failure. If nothing else, she was responsible for deciding what to do with him.
She thought she found the book at one point, but realized halfway through skimming that it was actually just a gruesome account of a Novice fifty years or so ago who also hadn’t managed to bond a Dragon. Apparently the mage had gone mad with grief and bonded…something the author of the book thought better left unnamed. It had...not ended well. Rather gruesomely, in fact, for all involved.
Evelyn didn’t think she would send that particular book to Kalin, though it did make her question her own judgement in sending him away from the abbey only a month after the failed ceremony. It seemed the Novice who had gone mad had done so immediately, but…
She would meet with him personally, she decided. The journey to Krinth could be made in a day on dragon-back, and she could use the break, if she could find the time. The atmosphere at the abbey was tense and growing tenser, as it had been for the past few years. The conflict with the Scourge to the north was escalating quietly enough that support from the southern cities was slow in coming, placing extra pressure on the Order Mages and regular armies of the region.
She frowned as she thought about her schedule. It might be some time before she had a full two days to herself. As [Prioress] she could technically order things moved around to make the trip possible, but right now Kalin just wasn’t the most pressing issue the Order had to deal with.
Unless he went mad and bonded a demon. That seemed unlikely, but, if it had happened before...
She decided she would write a letter and check his reports personally for now, and when she could she would visit. And she'd have an agent nearby check on him.
Her dragon strolled along beside her, head bowed low to snuffle along the wooden floor. Occasionally she lifted her head high, the gold-flecked-white of her muzzle covered thickly in dust as she trumpeted out a sneeze. Each time she did, Evelyn winced. The dragon’s sneezes sounded like bugle calls to muster an army, and they were doing nothing to settle the nerves of the acolyte at the desk.
It could be unnerving for a student to be alone with the head of the abbey, Evelyn knew. Though she suspected this novice’s nerves in particular were due more to the fact that he’d invited some friends over to the library to drink and chat for the evening, and Evelyn showed no signs of leaving. She wouldn’t until she found the book she knew was there somewhere.
Her eyes came across a small wooden box on the shelves and she opened it, revealing an uneven sheaf of pages stitched together into what once might have been a pamphlet or a thin book. She felt a thrill of excitement.
This is it. She recognized the thin scrawl of the slanted handwriting, faded now to grey with years. Despite its storage in the controlled and regulated environment of the library now, Evelyn suspected these pages had lived quite the life before arriving at the abbey, if the stains were any record. Some of them looked like blood.
She flipped through the pages of anatomical drawings, diagrams and folio notes on magical species of every description. The cover page with the pamphlet’s title was long lost to time, but if she remembered correctly…
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Ah, yes. There on the last, tattered page of browning paper.
We desire this Guide shall be of some use to those just at the tender Beginnings of their magical Journey. A Witch’s Guide to Familiars was first published in Norbend in the year 963, by the [Hedge-Mage] Andromicus. While Andromicus famously partnered with a Cockatoo named Pleny, it was he who made widely known the practice of symbiotic pairing with magical Creatures. All Creatures seem to share the characteristic of being highly connected to the ambient Mana of the world, and are therefore potential Partners for the budding [Witch] or [Warlock]. But, as Knowledge of the subject has grown amongst the general populace, we have focused our Research, narrowing in on those creatures least well-studied and most able to provide Extraordinary benefit to their human partner. I am talking, of course, of the Draconic lineage. Not just dragons, I hasten to add. Some (namely those fools calling themselves ’the Order’, I mean really, what could be more Pretentious? There are dozens of orders in Alathea…) seem to have decided that the creatures we call Dragons are the only Draconic animals worth partnering with, not to mention the more common magical species. Hibbledywash! We hope that this little book will have Enlightened the reader to the facts of Nature, that…
[Prioress] Evelyn smiled. It had been many years since she had convinced the [Head-Librarian] that this text should be kept out on the shelves. It was part of the history of their order, after all. Even if it painted them in a bad light, it gave context to the rise of [Dragon-Mages], and shouldn’t be forgotten.
She wasn’t sure now why she’d thought this book would be of particular use to Kalin. As far as she knew, no mage of the Order had bonded something other than a dragon for hundreds of years. Why would they? Their nation needed strength to fight the Undead hordes, not…she opened the pamphlet to a random page.
Various benefits are accorded to the magic User wise enough and suitably subtle to bond a Lesser Frog Wyrm. For one who can put up with the noisy Croaks of the familiar and the…unsightly physical Changes to the human partner’s Appearance, a world of new Sensations and Apprehensions awaits. Yes, it is true you may develop a taste for flies and wiggling Things, but as a source of sustenance, Insects are widely neglected by the human race.
Not to mention the increase in swimming speed from the Webbed…
But she was an experienced enough mage not to discard strange intuitions. She’d fought in the Wars for many years before coming home to be [Prioress] of the abbey, and she knew the value of gut feelings, even if they didn’t always make sense at the time.
As she placed the pamphlet back in its box,a thumb-sized portion crumbled into dust.
She’d have two copies made, she decided. Or three.
She would send Kalin the book, and, if nothing else, it might provide some much-needed diversion for the young mage. There hadn’t been time yet for a report to come, but suspected he was bored out of his mind at Krinth as well by now, or would be by the end of the week. Despite its use as a trading hub, it just…wasn’t the most exciting place in the region, not to mention the whole nation of Alathea.
And when she could find the time, she would go herself to check on Kalin.
She tried not to think of the mage in the first book, who had been driven to do horrible things after failing to bond a dragon. Kalin was a resilient young man already, but she would do everything she could to prevent that from happening to him. Hopefully it would be enough.
She stopped as she passed the acolyte at the desk, who nervously looked down and pretended to be doing something useful. She leaned down to peer at him, and tried not to smile as her dragon did the same.
“No fire magic,” she said seriously.
The acolyte looked at her in surprise and some confusion.
“Prioress, I—uh…fire magic?”
“Not even a [Spark]. You know the rules. No candles, no fire. Use the Heatstones if its cold, and Magelight to see.”
She looked at him until he nodded. He gulped like she’d threatened him with expulsion from the Order. Something moving caught her attention in the corner of her eye and she sighed.
“And tell your friends it’s not very sneaky to be peering through the windows like that. I was a [Light-Mage], you know.”
Even after she’d taken on the class evolution of [Prioress], Evelyn kept the skills from her previous class. Which included exquisite sensitivity to light in all it forms. It wasn’t quite the same as the {Darkvision} of a [Rogue] or [Miner], but it was more than enough to see the trio of figures pointing and making faces through the grimy glass.
Evelyn shook her head and hid her smile as she walked away, though by the time she reached her private study it had faded completely, replaced by a more typical expression of weary resignation and determination.
She nodded as the [Guard] stationed there opened her door, then sat down at her desk. Unfortunately, the book for Kalin was not her only task this night. She grabbed her quill and began to write, as her dragon curled around the chair and rested its head on her lap.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Harper,
It is with great condolences that I write to inform you of the death of your daughter, Master [Ocean-Mage] Sophia, who fell in battle this morning...