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Mirrors and Shades
Draconic Education

Draconic Education

Draconic Education

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The autumn sun shone grey, limply nestled in the sparse canopy of half-shod trees. In the rolling field of carnelian grass lay a road of red brick well worn with age. Rarely used, the path led to a huge cylindrical obelisk shaped like a grain silo with its top hidden by the sparse misty clouds, an edifice designed to house the arcane chicanery and shady little mages within.

Well-worn trails surrounded the tower, like crisscrossing cracks in aged porcelain, unpredictable like the numerous figures that walked these trails at the moment. All of them headed inwards, to their new playpen - to the tower. Groups formed as they trudged onwards. The herd provided a welcome respite from the uncertainty and loneliness. And gossip, of course.

Tommy walked with his two new companions, passing under the smooth cut stone facade marked IX100 in large precise letters. His pupils dilated to match the eerily dark passageway, then he was stumbling into a bright circular hall, disoriented by the sensory assault, conversations pouring into his ears.

"... bet we'll see Morgan first. Father said she has been here forever, and so loves to regale the youngsters with the tales of the proper mages..."

"... even bother with secrecy. Why can't we choose our classes or roommates? I'm practically a prince, and I demand ..."

"...an ice fairy familiar? So cool!"

Before the three were long terraced steps running across the hall in concave arcs, wide as Tommy as was tall. On each step laid a dozen metal workbenches and stiff chairs. Facing the steps was a dais and a wall covered in black boards. About a half of the seats in the front rows were marked by satchels and placeholders, their owners spread apart - chatting and mingling.

He wondered why there was no echo in such a massive hall. He said so, to which Aldy added,

"Not only that, you can hear what everyone is saying. We're across the room and they are not talking that loud. We'll have to watch what we say."

"Bullshit magic." said the sole girl leading the trio. Her eyes scanned the room until she found her target near the far end at the top. With the toothy grin of a predator, the girl bounded up the steps to the sole occupier at the ninth step, and smacked her hard in the back.

"Hey roomie!"

Tommy felt sorry for the dozing girl who had been peacefully snuggling her head down into her arms. The girl winced, squinting at the bubbly menace.

"Go die, Asva! Let me sleeeeep."

"No chance. Where's sense of wonder!? Not curious?"

There was no response.

"Dalda! Wake up! Meet my new friends. Look. How handsome. Well, Tommy is slim and messy, and dark circle", then turning, "But this hunk, silky hair.."

"Hello Miss Dalda, please call me Aldy. Sorry to have bothered you." The taller boy greeted before Asva could continue.

A pause. The girl named Dalda, tilted her head to a side, her chin resting on the back of her hands, still bent over the table, her tired eyes upon them.

"Hello. Sleep now. Talk later." the girl said.

"Certainly." Aldy replied.

Tommy just nodded.

Meanwhile, Asva was pulled the neighboring chair and was lowering herself when she slipped. The ground shifted. The ceiling shook. Everyone started.

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Tommy looked around for an explanation. Another thump. Another pause.

'Like a giant's footsteps.' Others looked unsettled. 'Hmm, not a basic magic thing I missed then', he thought.

Then, with a loud grating sound the ceiling cracked. Long slits zigzagged out of the left corner above the first step where a huge pincer appeared, puncturing stone like a soap film. The pincer pulled back out, the pushed through again. 'Like a messy suture...'

Again. This time a full claw passed through - a massive scaly limb that pinched and held the ceiling in a hooked grip. Another pincer, this one straight ahead, over the stage, right above the lectern. A new claw. Chunks of debris buried the table. Then, the ceiling was folded over like banana banana peel.

'Not a giant. No. A dragon.'

Someone screamed. Then, there was mayhem. Broken stone blocked the entrance. Half of them were running around, each towards their individual salvation, like headless chickens. A pair ran into each other, fell down, then continued past, one with a bloodied nose, other clutching his shoulder.

More shakes. Lots of desperate cursing.

Two massive legs stepped on the wall where the punctures first appeared, one then the other. The wall groaned under its weight. Two wings covered the newly exposed sky, the sunlight shining red through the translucent membrane stretched over chitinous spurs jutting at the end.

'Dragon wings don't have scales?' Tommy thought, sprawled on the floor as he was, then mumbled "What's wrong with me? Have I gone mad already?". He spared a glance to his classmates.

Rest of them were scared shitless. Or dazed. It was hard to tell. If only their wide stares could pierce the beast. Awe, horror, confusion, contemplation, and trauma, accompanied by a chorus of mumbled prayers and loud negotiations with forgotten gods.

The dragon's head lowered down into the opening, the silver eyes glowing with a promise of destruction, the malice in that gaze palpable. The loud ruckus near the blocked exit attracted its attention.

More pause. A loud one. Until all went quiet with the percussive thrum. All the air in the room was sucked away.

The floor shook.

A strong hand yanked Tommy to his left, pulling him from under a table. He let himself be dragged, mesmerized, unable to stop staring in awe, and confused at his own lack of fear. He momentarily looked around, just because he had an intense urge to prove that he could.

Before he looked back, a roar pierced through his soul. A bright flash of silver gray flames descended upon the hapless magelings like a waterfall of liquid fire. The flames really turned fluid as they touched the ground. It poured and poured, droplets of fire bouncing off the ground into myriad fireworks. Droplets clung to every solid surface. Petals of flower hung in the air. The outpouring just wouldn't stop.

As Tommy watched, the falling fire itself was now obscured by a secondary curtain of fiery rain that crashed upon the floor with a loud patter. That too was gone in a moment. A thick scorching fog engulfed him. All sounds vanished, leaving him with own scorching breath and the thumping in his ears. And pain.

Then, from everywhere all at once, tearing through the firmament, came another sound.

A disappointed "Tsk".