Salty breeze. Screaming gulls. Breaking waves.
Nannade stood on the bow of the Vigilantia and looked to the distance. After six days of voyage, they finally arrived in the vicinity of Stakkarun. The ocean between Ackarom and Botrelandt was windy and temperate, occasionally blowing icy air to the shoes of northern Ackarom. They had weathered the sea quite well, not just because of Nannade's spiritual aid. She was unfamiliar with the needs and dangers of sailing, but she had brought then a constant breeze, which was enough for such a short voyage.
The island rose quickly, its central mountain mass disappearing in the haze and clouds and leaving little level land on the shore. The weather looked especially grey, even for autumn.
The ship was navigated into a small bay, shielded by rocky cliffs from both weather and sight. It seemed empty and wild, but as they got closer, they penetrated an illusion spell and a tent camp was revealed, standing amidst a small assortment of huts and houses, some of them with scorch marks or even burned to the ground.
They were welcomed by a tall, blonde man. He saluted to See Andronicus and showed them to the command tent. The stewarding lieutenants excused themselves as the team entered.
Andronicus and Ionna were given updated reports by the tall blonde man, who looked an awfully lot like Ionna. They even wore similar equipment, that of a scout, although the man’s brooch showed him to be of a much higher rank.
Nannade had been given instructions. She would be accompanying – or how they had called it “attached to” – the scout squad commanded by Ionna, to go ahead of all else. Shortly after them would come the vanguard, led into the field by Professor Alivor, and followed by the two standard squads, led by Ser Andronicus. All in all, more than fifty men. The last squad, led by the tall man, would stay at the bridgehead and keep the opportunity to retreat open.
The man's name was Silva us and he was the scoutsmaster of the Ordo Militaris, and indeed Ionna's younger brother. He was rather approachable and quickly recognized Nannade’s expertise. He asked Nannade to see her equipment, and when he saw, he insisted she take on a spear from the armoury.
“We’ll shorten shaft a bit for you.” Ionna said while handing her a spear in the armoury on the ship. Behind her Nannade could see a row of bows leaning in their stand.
“Oh, I think a bow would serve me well, too.” Nannade said. It were only flatbows, nothing like her recurve bow back at home, but it had been a while and she’d even settle for a cumbersome longbow. She took and stringed one. Ionna was impressed by her strength to easily string a bow made for male human soldiers.
She held the bow and plucked the string, just a little.
BWENG.
She welcomed the sound. Like the first note to an old, familiar tune. She drew the string all the way back, right next to her ear. Its strain, like inhaling just before a mighty yell. She let it go.
TFWAENG.
This was the first beat to the melody.
“How I have missed this.”
Ionna chortled. “So melodramatic. You have experience with the bow?”
“I’ve been training for five years now. Got my own bow when I was twelve. But never felled anyone with it. A bit of hunting, that’s it.”
“Well we got an archery target outside of you’re feeling rusty.” Ionna said with a wink.
They went outside to a tree with a wooden plate hanging from ropes.
“A weak hit won’t do, the arrow needs to hit at full speed or the board will just swing out of the way.”
“I think it'll do.” Nannade said and nocked her first arrow. She drew the string back, inhaled, held, felt the strength of the wood and sinew, let loose.
The arrow cut through the air and with a loud THWOCK, hit the target, making it swing back and forth. As it came to a standstill, both of them watched and saw; the arrow was cleanly in the centre.
“Not bad for a first shot, but let’s try that again.” Ionna aid.
Nannade again nocked, drew back, inhaled, held, felt, let loose.
THWOCK.
Clean in the centre, barely half an inch from the first.
Ionna nodded respectfully. “Excellent for a second shot. How about a third?”
Nannade decided to up the stakes. “How about a ninth?” Nannade asked.
Ionna did not know what she was getting at, but she had already shouldered the bow and gotten to drawing in her palm-book. She still remembered the construction, but her hand drew a few ugly lines. Never mind, she could make it work.
Made curious by the sounds, Silvanus had arrived as well, he saw what was going on. “So you’re instructing the girl? And you’re even making her take notes?!”
“No you idiot, she’s drawing magic. She’s a witch after all.” Ionna stepped closer to peek over Nannade's shoulder.
“Witch’s apprentice, but close. This will be my last test.” Nannade corrected her.
The spell was ready.
She pricked the paper onto the claw of her left index, then she drew the bow. As the paper was in front of the arrow’s tip, she snapped her fingers.
The paper went up in flames and in its stead, a whirling golden ring appeared in the air. She adjusted her aim and let the arrow loose through the ring.
THWTHWTHWOCK.
Three arrows pelted the target. Four missed. Six arrows disappeared. One remained, less than an inch from the centre.
Both siblings were still processing what just happened.
“DAMN! That was UGLY! I should have drawn that better.”
“I don’t think anyone at the receiving end of this cares.” Ionna said while her brother was in awe.
But Nannade remained unfulfilled by her performance.
She went to pick up the arrows and brought them back. She got a quiver to put on her hip. With a smile, she inspected her new gear. Maybe she could keep this one. Her recurve bow back home might be better suited and of a higher make than this one, but she was a far way from home.
The day went on rather eventless. Nannade sat on a log and wrote down as many spells for the upcoming mission as possible. Spells to scry into the distance, spells to conceal beneath twigs and leaves, spells to pelt her opponents with arrows numerous and strong, spells to heal grievous wounds quickly.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
She had worn her crayon down to a nub again and looked for a replacement, when Olybrius walked by.
“Do you know if they have infused crayons for replacements?”
“Oh, I guess you can take my replacements, I'll get new ones before tomorrow anyway.” He rummaged through his pouch and handed her two. “What are you writing down?”
He sat down next to her and looked at her palm-book.
“Oh, this is just something for stitching up a wound.”
He seemed impressed. “Life-transmutation is a tricky thing, and...” He hesitated and looked at her spell closer. He obviously had problems understanding the freeform structure. “And you... Is that blood magic?” he finally brought forth and pointed to a certain part of her spell.
Nannade realized she might have revealed too much. “Well, how else are you going to close a wound?”
“Haven’t you learned in your Axiomata how dangerous that is?!” He gave her a concerned stare.
“I learned it under close tutelage by an experienced healer. I guess we do things different in Sturreland.” Nervously she put on a smile and ducked her head in.
“Well, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Can I ask, what’s the Axiomata?”
He furrowed his brow. “Do they not have Axiomata in Sturreland?”
Nannade felt as if she had said something wrong and noticed she had ducked her head in. “I don't know. I kind of grew up in a hut in the forest. I was trained and taught by two people.”
Olybrius processed that for a moment. “So you never went to school?”
“Well, once, to introduce me to the townsfolk. I know their schooling isn’t as good as the city's. It’s only every other day.”
“That sounds like the free program by the universities. But if the parents can pay, they visit school between seven and nineteen years old. I guess you don’t know Primum, Secundum and Tertium then either?”
“Oh, I know that. I should be doing the last year of my Secundum right now, and my Tertium from seventeen to nineteen. But what’s Axiomata?”
“Well you see, children that are to be taught in magic can begin their Axiomata when they start their Secundum. There they are taught the basics of the natural laws concerning magic as well as the university's laws that govern the use of magic. If they manage to do it, they get a token by the university, like a pendant, to cast magic as long as they’re within the city. But only basic stuff, like lighting candles or cleaning clothes, you know.”
“Huh.” Nannade thought about the life of a city school child. She realized how odd her life was in relation to other children, even those with magic gifts.
He shook his head. “Now I know why you’re so far ahead on some stuff.”
“I guess my teachers are very “result-oriented” and don’t waste much time on needless basics.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“They preferred very drastic methods to accelerate my learning after... I came from a sort of dark place and suffered from neglect and entered their care when I was nine. So I had to catch up a lot.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You caught up well, I have to say.”
“Thanks, but I think it hasn’t all been good. You see, how should I put it? For example, they gave me some brew to accelerate my growth and it might have kind of made me... more human, if you get what I mean.”
He shook his head with furrowed brow.
“I am not typical crolachan. Humans usually can’t tell, and I never met other crolachans until Ieft Sturreland this year, so I never knew how different I was. One of the crolachan men on the ship called me “lanky and sinewy” and...” She just now noticed what she had been rambling about. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you with my insecure-girl talk.”
He put his hand on her shoulder again, like he did on the Vigilantia. “Nannade, you are under no obligation to fit in with everyone. Especially since you’re destined for something higher, you have a gift and to let yourself get held back by those that will never understand your world will only bring you pain. Don’t look back.”
She had to blink once or twice before she had truly understood what he had said. “Thank you. I think I just want to not be seen as something broken anymore, as something that needs to be fixed.”
“I won’t presume to know what broke you, but I know that people can’t be “fixed”. They can only heal, by themselves; and the best other people can do is be there for them. It doesn’t sound like your teachers have your best interests in mind, but I hope you either have or find someone who can help you heal.”
She put her hand on his to remove it from her shoulder, but for a moment, she stopped. It felt nice and warm. She had to detach from him and turn around for a while. “I guess I’ll get some stuff done and talk to Ionna. See you.”
“Yes.” He sounded guilty for some reason.
She just went to Ionna to confirm their departure early the next morning, before everyone else. Then she sat in her tent, which she shared with the Professor and made a few more stitches to her project, hoping to clear her head. She noticed a certain gaze on her the entire time.
“What is it, Aaka?” She finally asked her observer, whose presence she tended to forget more and more recently.
“I hope you don’t think that Purple Paw and Elissa mean you ill.”
“What are you, my confessor?”
“No, I just want to warn you that resentment can grow. I’m not saying you shouldn’t listen to that boy, but don’t let yourself get driven by spite and defiance... again!”
“Don’t worry, I fully intent to return to Purple Paw and continue my training. I just want to be able to see it from someone else’s perspective for once.”
Aaka did not answer to that, but she was no longer in the jar when Nannade left the tent.
Night fell and the platoon gathered around several campfires. Nannade sat next to Olybrius again. She had noticed that she had started to see him more like a mature boy than a young man. The robe and his stiff posture had somehow made her believe he was beyond childish things and insecurities.
They had been eating side by side in relative silence when Olybrius spoke up. “Say, can I ask you what it is that you were stitching for so long on the ship?”
“It’s a charm for a certain spirit, so I can bind it into it.” She told him. Not entirely wrong.
“Do spirits like being bound into objects?” he asked, with a cute boyish curiosity that Nannade knew from somewhere.
“In the end we can’t command spirits, only make contracts with them. So it’s up to the spirit whether it enters.”
“I heard that before, that mediums often have to trick daemons or they get tricked by them.”
“Yes, spirits are a dangerous lot. They offer you one thing and take everything else.”
“Is it that dangerous to deal with them?”
She had to think how to describe it. “You know that the arcane has its rules that need to be studied for years to apply on a basic level. But the mystic is as easy as speaking a single word, but that also means the wrong word can allow the other one, the spirit, to do as they see fit. A wish for a growing garden can easily lead to choking vines swallowing your entire house. The only way is speaking clearly, knowing all the words, and being aware of what entity you are dealing with.”
Olybrius sucked up her every word. “Can you show me?”
“Show you what?”
“A spirit.”
“Eeer...” she really wanted to say yes. “... Non-mediums cannot perceive them without a very long attunement guided and enforced by self-discipline. Followers of a faith study their religion for years in order to be able to perceive a tiny sliver of their god. Priests are those few that managed.”
He seemed do be not deterred. “But can you show me what they can do?”
Nannade had to think for a moment. “I guess I can look at the edge of the concealment spell for a spirit...”
She looked around. She found an empty cup and carefully put a burning ember inside. Then she returned to Olybrius and beckoned him to follow her.
At the edge of the concealment spell, behind some bushes and rocks, they sat down and Nannade started to whisper runic words. It would be hard to find an elemental spirit in such a distant, unknown land, but sure enough, a sprite showed up, born from the warmth of the ember.
“I found one!” she said with a smile of success.
“A spirit, it is here?”
“No, a sprite.”
“What are those?”
“If spirits are minds without bodies, sprites are thoughts without minds. A seed from which a new spirit can form.”
“And can it do something for us?”
“Only one thing:” Nannade leaned closer to the cup and the sprite within and whispered a single runic word. “Burn!”
The ember turned into a brightly burning flame, shooting high out of the cup. Nannade and Olybrius leaned back at first, but then got closer, observing as the flame consumed the entire ember, reducing it down to ashes within a few moments. As the flame died down, Nannade could see Olybrius amazed face behind it. He raised his gaze from the cup to her eyes. She looked into loam-brown eyes and he into her spring-green eyes longer than any time before. Today, his eyes were not cold or shy. Today, in that moment, they were hungry. She saw her own reflection in them. Were her eyes hungry too? She felt so.
She dropped the cup and put her hands to his face.