Chapter 10: Gareth, The Protégé

We walked toward Callem, and before I could speak, Gareth spoke firmly and clearly, “Captain Callem, we are early and don’t want our instruction time to begin just yet. Storme and I will complete the daily stretches before we start. Is that okay?”

Whoa. I stared at Gareth, whose face was relaxed, and his eyes locked with Callem. What the hell, Gareth! An hour of stretching…three hours of combat training…three hours of farm work. Was he adding an hour to our commitment? I felt betrayed as we had not discussed this, or had we? I did the same to Gareth sometimes, explaining my reasoning after the fact.

“That will be fine,” Callem’s pleased, deep voice intoned. He then proceeded to return to pulling weeds among his tobacco plants. Gareth was already walking to the packed earth training ground by the shed. I noticed six different training dummies set up in the yard that had not been there the last time.

“Gareth,” I intoned with irritation in my voice, “We should have discussed this more?” He looked at me without his normal grin and sighed.

“Storme, do you know who Captain Callem actually is?” What? No, you didn’t tell me anything. Why have you been waiting till now to reveal this? We were best friends, damn it! “Captain Callem is Commander Callem Dregalla. He was the First Sword of the Skyholme, recognized as the best swordsman in all of Skyholme for 17 straight years. The streak only stopped because he stopped competing in the Annuals. When he was promoted to oversee the training of all Naval personnel and raised to Commander, he just stopped competing for the title.”

Gareth had reverence in his eyes, “Freya and I went to the library in the city yesterday after Sweets and Treats and lunch.” He smirked and got his grin back, “She didn’t tell you about the lunch or the library trip?” First betrayed by Gareth and now my sister. “Well, I researched and read the news posts from when Callem was in his prime. He was unbeatable in combat duels and earned numerous accolades. He single-handedly boarded a Sadian warship and killed everyone on board while in the midst of an aerial engagement.”

Captain Callem called in his booming voice from twenty paces away as if he was listening right next to us. “I hate that tale, boy. There were six of us that boarded that ship. Four of us lived, and all the credit was given to me because I killed 27 men and women myself. Get to your stretching, boys, and stop bringing up fables.” I was a little startled by his interruption. I started the progression of stretches with Gareth, my body protesting by obeying.

Gareth seemed reluctant to say anything else for fear of Callem overhearing us. We finished the stretches in quiet, well, almost silence. Gareth annoyingly corrected my form every time I made an error. At the conclusion of stretching, Callem approached us again. “Okay, boys, let us continue with footwork. The next hour and a half were brutal for me, and my body was broken and abused. “Good boys. I have two weighted training blades for you.”

He retrieved two heavy, dull blades and handed us each one; Gareth’s was slightly bigger. “These blades are dull and useless in real combat but are perfectly balanced and twice as heavy as a normal blade their size. I am going to teach you the 23 master sword forms. Each sword form has 23 movements, and each movement has 23 variations.” … it took me a moment to do the math in my head: 12,167! My face fell as I muttered the number.

My shock had Callem smirk, “Don’t worry, Storme. The variations are based on the blade. If you stick to just one sword type, it is just 529 movements. The first form is called the Snapping Tortoise. It is heavily defensive and only has five of the twenty-three movements dedicated to attacking.”

The next hour proceeded as we practiced the first two movements. My arm was dead after just half an hour, but Gareth showed only eagerness. He rarely needed correction while I constantly did as we put the movements into muscle memory.

“Now I will attack each of you, and you will defend.” Wait, what? Before I could respond, Callem had another training blade in hand, swinging simple strikes at each of us. First Gareth, then me. My aching arms could barely hold the training sword, but I blocked the first six deliberately telegraphed strikes before the seventh bashed my own sword into my forehead, knocking me out. Fortunately, I had been struck with the flat of the blade, and my head wasn’t split open. When I woke, I just heard the clang of steel. Gareth and Callem were still at it, but Callem’s strikes had increased in speed.

As I sat up, they stopped. “Storme, sorry about that,” Callem said with sincerity. “I had judged you capable of handling three or four more strikes. I am out of practice sparring with a student.” Sparring? I had been defending my life. I felt a large lump on my head. Did I crack my skull? “Storme, in the kitchen, there is a white cabinet. There are restorative vials in there. The small white ones will erase your injury. Go and drink one.” I walked jelly-legged to the farmhouse.

The farmhouse was quite nice outside—twenty yards by fifteen yards and two stories built completely out of stone. The wood trim was in excellent care, and I entered the large front door and was stunned by the interior. The house was immaculate. White walls and clear, stained, fine woodwork were everywhere. The living room, kitchen, and dining room were one massive room. A staircase led upstairs, and the first floor had three doors to other rooms.

No, one of those doors was under the staircase, so it probably led to the basement. The kitchen was small but had two cold storage boxes powered by a runic script and small aether crystals. I peeked inside and found one was a freezer and the other a fridge. The cooking top was also rune-scribed for heat. All of them were very expensive luxury items. I found the white cabinet and opened it to find an assortment of neatly labeled vials.

I heard Callem yell, asking if I needed help. I had been dawdling. I grabbed one of the small white vials and drank. The taste was best described as a sour apple. The elixir acted fast, and all the pain in my body vanished in just a few seconds. I headed back out to the yard, dragging my feet.

Half an hour later, I really wanted another elixir. I had a few bruises, but nothing serious. With the lessons done for the day, Callem complimented us. “Storme, you did very well. Do not think you failed today.”

He put his hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes, and I could tell he was serious. “I know you are not as motivated as Gareth, but I have worked with hundreds of boys, girls, men, and women, and I can honestly say you have the potential to be better than the majority.” His eyes and voice indicated he was sincere. “Gareth, do not get a big head, but I think you could surpass me in time.” So much for not letting Gareth get a big head. It was swelling before my eyes.

“Ok, you boys have some work to do for me. This way.” He turned and headed into the nearby woods. Gareth followed like a puppy. I hesitated and needed to consider. I was at a crossroads. I was sure Callem would continue to train Gareth if I quit, but I didn’t want to abandon my friend on his journey. I didn’t care that he would far surpass me. I decided we would be taking the journey together, which is what mattered. I hastened after them.

In a clearing after a short trip through the woods, the site I beheld had me thinking about changing my mind. Gareth was puzzling out what he was seeing, but I knew. It was an obstacle course straight out of hell. Narrow beams ten feet off the ground, ropes, suspended bags, walls, a pond with stepping stones. There was also an archery range on the far side…or did that mean he was going to shoot arrows at us while we ran the obstacles?

Before I could do an about-face and return to the farm, Callem spoke, “The course is a little overgrown, so rather than work the fields today, we will clear the brush and check the ropes.” Callum had a devilish grin, and Gareth was tickled pink by the idea of the training course and the stupid look of joy on his face. We got to work and finished the hard labor in just over three hours and were allowed to head home.

“Gareth, I think I am going to buy a cart,” I said after I had forced my body to walk the first half a mile.

“Why Stormy?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“So you can pull me home after training,” I replied without humor in my voice.

Gareth had a response ready, “You should just get a horse or reindeer.” I thought that wasn’t a bad idea, but it would draw my attention as they were expensive animals to maintain in Skyholme.

Gareth suddenly went off-topic, “Tell you what, we race home, and the loser buys lunch for the next week.” Before I could reply, he was off. I didn’t chase him as he sprinted away. I was slightly faster than him over rough terrain, but his long legs easily beat me on these straight paths. The only solace I took was that he was moving a bit gingerly, so that inhuman boy had felt today’s training a little, at least.

On returning to town, I went to the pub and gorged on milk, bread, roasted chicken, glazed vegetables, and beer cheese soup—all without Gareth. I rolled myself home and went to my bedroom after letting my parents know I had returned. Freya came in, and I quietly relayed the day’s tales, ensuring she knew how gallant her brother was in his training.

I did tell her I was a little upset she hadn’t told me about the library trip and what they learned about Captain Callem. She then told me she had just looked at the picture books in the library and didn’t know what Gareth had been researching, but he did mention a Commander Somebody.

Ugh. I gave her a lecture about paying attention to her surroundings and the absolute importance of sharing relevant information with her brother. That brother being me, not Pascal. She was a little huffy but seemed to acquiesce.

After she left, it took me a while to find a comfortable position to settle into. I generated my nightly gold coins and stuffed them under my pillow, not wanting to travel the five feet to the secret cache in the wall. At least tomorrow, there was no sword training, and I could go claim my cleanliness spell!

Chapter 11: Magic Isn’t Easy

I woke often during the night, trying to reposition my body to avoid pain. I also came to one conclusion: I needed more pillows! I slept in short bursts and dreamed of getting beaten by a sword, casting amazing magic, running a merchant empire, and buying a horse, only to find the horse talked and didn’t like to be ridden.

It was a crazy night, and the fatigue, large amounts of food in my stomach, and growing anxieties needed to be addressed. I was up far too early, consolidated my wealth into my money pouch, and went to the barn before anyone else was up. I was going to age the gold coins, but to my absolute horror, I found butter in the butter churn! Freya! I scraped out what I could and disposed of it in the refuse pit. I then added the coins, some stones, metal nails, dirt, and coal. Then, I began to churn the coins. It was a little noisy, but the barn should be far enough from the house to not wake anyone.

After thirty minutes, I used some wet rags to clean the coins. I thought they looked passable as aged coins and placed them into my pouch. The butter remnants had probably helped dirty the coins, but I would have to talk with Freya to see what she was up to with making butter. It was probably my fault for not telling her why I bought it. She probably thought she was helping with making the butter.

I walked to see Gareth at his house and couldn’t help but grin. Gareth was cutting wood but was definitely moving with a lot of discomfort. He noticed me and seemed to stand straighter, trying to hide his own pains. “Stormy! Ready for the morning stretches?” His grin was on his face. So that was it. We were playing a silent game of who could endure the pain the best.

We began the stretches, and we began the tough guy game. Soon, I was moaning and groaning over the movements as my muscles were doing their best to tell me enough already! After a while, Gareth stopped being so exact in correcting my movements, and I was thankful when we finished the routine. “Stormy, we need to complete the series of stretches in 30 minutes, according to Callem.” I just glared at him while he grinned. Maybe I wouldn’t give him an allowance today in the city as recompense for these indirect assaults on my body.

I moaned and sighed, “We should get to the city in haste this morning. I want to purchase my new spell and return to practice it. What if we go to Twin Rocks Lake with our poles when we get back? You can fish, and I can practice my spell.”

Gareth seemed to consider. “You want to return to the city to sell fish later today?” I hadn’t thought of that. No. that would be a waste of time, and I churned over some ideas before responding.

“You know that camping kit you always wanted at the adventurer’s shop? Why don’t you get it? We can cook the fish by the lake for dinner. I will write down some vegetables and other ingredients you can also get.” Gareth immediately fist-pumped, excited but looking goofy.

We spent a short time getting breakfast and packing snacks at the Hen’s Hollow’s general store. I returned home and strapped on my dagger at Gareth’s insistence. Freya was up and devastated she wasn’t going with us to the city today. However, her birthday was just around the corner, and I teased her about her present. If she ransacked my room looking for it, she would find the dress in the bag under my bed, and that would make her happy.

Soon, Gareth and I were walking toward the city. It was the smallest city on Titan’s Shield but big enough for us. The city was called Solaris, after a sun god. The citizens of Skyholme did not practice religion much. The only representation of the god in the city was his likeness in a fountain in one of the squares, but that was a remnant of the ancient avian race that ruled the islands.

The maps of Titan’s Shield showed it to be roughly ovaloid in shape, with the widest part around 150 miles and the short side of the oval being 80 miles. There were four cities on the island, forming a diamond shape. Our city, Solaris, was at the bottom, while the island’s capital city was at the top of the map and was called Aegis City.

It was the capital because it was built on top of one of the two dungeons on our island. The other dungeon on the island was up in the mountains overlooking Aegis City, so the city had a monopoly on both dungeons. The other two cities, Silver Warren and Shiphaven, were similar to ours in that farms and light industry surrounded them. If you also looked at the map of the island, it was clear our small town of Hen’s Hollow was close to the edge, just a few miles from a very long drop. Gareth and I had been to the edge of the island a few times, and it was unfathomable how high above the lowlands we were.

During the walk to the city, Gareth asked, “Do you think we should get some recovery potions from an alchemist?” He was being serious, and I remember Captain Callem had an impressive array of potions. But I had read a lot and knew some general things about potions.

“We should stay away from potions, Gareth. Heavy use when you are young can stunt your growth. Well, maybe in your case, that would be good for you.” I ducked a lazy swing by Gareth. But it was true. Using potions adversely affected the growth of young people. Or, to be more precise, poorly made potions had adverse effects, and one thing the Skyholme people lacked was quality alchemists.

Oh, there were a lot of alchemists and even some good ones, but the prices were extremely high, and the effects were not too impressive from what little I understood of the other civilizations throughout the Sphere. This was in part due to Skyholme’s limited array of ingredients. We had very few dungeons on Skyholme, and our trade with the lowlands was constantly in turmoil. The genuinely effective alchemy ingredients rarely grew outside of dungeons.

“Ok, Gareth, get us each a minor restorative potion for minor wounds. That should be what, 50 silver each, maybe? Take three gold coins for everything today, but stay with me until Wigand’s. The local kids have been eyeing me.” Gareth’s face clouded in anger as I reminded him of my body being used as target practice.

“You will stay in Wigand’s till I return?” He looked at me, waiting for the question to be answered.

“Fine, yes, you want an oath or something?” I was teasing him because I planned to get my spell and fall into the bookstore’s big plush leather reading chair. My aching body was looking forward to it.

We ran into no problems getting to Wigand’s, and Gareth left for his errands. On entering the shop, Wigand came out of the back room with his usual good cheer. “Storme! So good to see you! I got your spellbook in the back! And have a few other books you may be interested in.” Wigand was always the salesman. I smiled tightly in response. I pulled out the 20 gold coins. It was ten for my spell book, and a ten gold deposit for the other book Wigand was having copied for our fictional patron.

“Fantastic! When the copy is ready, I will let you know so I can get the remaining 50 gold from your benefactor.” Fifty gold, I suddenly realized what an unreal sum that was. I stopped to think about my family. My abilities and wealth would improve their quality of life. I just needed to be careful and not get drawn into the politics of Skyholme. I would tell them eventually—once I mastered some of my magic.

Wigand went to get my spell book, and when he returned, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a thick book with a black cover and the title in silver letters embedded in the leather, Guidance for Personal Manicuring and Hygiene, The Comprehensive Handbook for the Cleanliness Spell by Archmage Sana Velin. It wasn’t overly special compared to any other book I had read, but it was mine, and as I took it, I am ashamed to admit I hugged it to my chest for a brief moment before realizing what I was doing. Wigand had a knowing smile, and his eyes were on me.

“So Storme, I have two other books you may be interested in as you are just beginning down your path to magic. I take it you do not have a teacher.” He looked embarrassed for a second. Wigand didn’t like to pry into other people’s business unless asked. He continued, pretending he wasn’t prying. “Well, I have two books, as I said, Understanding Spell Imprinting and Aether Core Facilitation. Both are very old, out-of-date printings from the Skyholme Mage Academy in the capital, but they are two important primers for new mages. I got both books at the same estate sale. I got them with your cleanliness spell for very cheap.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Spell imprinting was the process of learning a new spell. I knew this much. A mage could only learn so many spells based on his or her capacity to lock the spell form to their aether matrix. The process was commonly called imprinting from my readings. Once locked in, a mage could evolve a spell as it essentially leveled up. “How much?” I asked, very interested.

Wigand relaxed and smiled, “Two gold for both or a gold and fifty silver for the imprinting book and fifty silver for the aether core book.” It was an extremely reasonable price as both books should be a few gold coins if new. I paid him with one gold and ten large silvers. Both books were well-worn and contained about twenty pages each with text on both sides. I went to the comfy chair to read, and Wigand went about his work, sensing I didn’t want to be disturbed.

I opened the spellbook because, just like in my last life, I skipped the directions, confident I could figure it out on my own. I read the forward by Archmage Sana Velin.

Many have overlooked the usefulness of the basic spells. I have always believed that a spell is a living, evolving companion to mages. Within those evolutions, a simple spell can be utilized far beyond the originally intended scope. For this tome, I talked to dozens of mages from all walks of life who had mastered the cleanliness spell and detailed their evolutions within. One woman had extended the range to clean others, and another mage had increased the range so far he could clean entire rooms! One hunter frequently used the spell during tracking to eliminate his odor. A warrior who battled in the arena used it to sterilize his injuries. In all, you will find 254 unique evolutions within.

-Archmage Sana Velin, Instructor of the Tertiary Codex

Well, I was super excited as I turned the page. I was ready to learn my first spell. The spell forms made me dizzy looking at them as I paged through. Four pages full of magic lines that made little sense to me, and this was a basic spell, granted with some complexity. I just had to burn those four pages into my memory right?

I spent twenty minutes and just got nauseous looking at the curvy lines forming spiraling paths and circuits. I rested my eyes and turned to the evolutionary index for the spell. The first thing that caught my eye under the ‘adding a lingering scent’ was that vanilla was listed as an option. Ok, my first evolution would definitely be that.

Other evolutions that attracted me included simple effects: a fresh breath evolution track and the health track for eliminating bacteria and disease within a caster. After each evolution, there were details on coercing the spell to initiate the new desired effect, and the book provided a structured overlay for the spell form alteration. The spell truly had some depths. I spent almost two hours picking out the evolutions I wanted before Gareth returned with an extremely large pack.

“So Stormy, are you a wizard yet?” His grin turned to a laugh as I stared at him with indignity. “Ok, let’s go. The pack has a folding fishing pole in it, so I don’t need to stop and get mine at home.” He knew me too well. I would spend my day on the spell and not fishing.

The walk to Twin Rocks was down a lightly trodden path and over an hour from Hen’s Hollow. We circled around Hen’s Hollow without losing any time. Not many people went to Twin Rocks. Besides the blue pike, there wasn’t much. At the lake, we set up between the two big rocks on the shore for which the lake was named after. The lake had good depth here, and we usually did well fishing there.

Gareth set his line and pole and then went to stretch, but before doing so, he tossed me a small vial, which I caught. “The restorative potion. Expiration is on the cap.” He said, turning away and going through the stupid limbering exercises for a second time today. I put the vial, its shape similar to my index finger, in my pocket. If we were going to carry potions regularly, we would need a separate pouch on our belts for them.

I focused on my studying while Gareth proceeded with his own training. After a short while, I reluctantly picked up the spell imprinting book and read it cover to cover, and I was deeply saddened. Imprinting a spell took weeks! A tier-one spell took a new mage on an average of 20 days! Their best advice was to trace out the spell forms over and over on paper. I was unhappy as I had been hoping to cast my spell today.

The other book was a quicker read. It focused on understanding how to focus inwardly and find your aether core. But most importantly, it described the aether in a newly formed core as thick like molasses. You needed to thin the aether by ‘stirring’ it constantly and using it up to draw in the fresh aether. So, this cheaper book was actually more useful to start on my path to becoming a wealthy archmage. It was probably the reason I couldn’t make less than an ounce of metal at a time. I needed to thin out my aether to better control it, according to the book.

The book highly suggested getting magic devices to charge with aether if the mage didn’t have a spell or ability to empty their core. Apparently, regularly drawing on the aether core was important to help it grow, as was doing the exercises described. I added this to my to-do list; I just had to remember to make coins daily.

Maybe I could disguise myself as just a mage with spells and no abilities in the future. The last thing I wanted was to be chained in some noble’s dungeon, making endless amounts of coin for them. It was why I was holding back from telling my parents. My father would probably want me to start making coins immediately.

I put away the spellbook and imprinting book and started focusing on my core. The book detailed 23 suggested exercises. All of them were supposedly simple but hard to master. I was on exercise five when Gareth yelled.

“Storme, move it!” I looked around in panic and didn’t see anything besides Gareth running at me. Then, a massive beast of black feathers and talons barreled into me from above.

Chapter 12: Sebastian

The large bird grasped my right shoulder and left bicep in his talons. One talon pierced my upper chest on the right side. The momentum of the raptor took my left arm into a painful rotation, pulling it out of its socket and tearing ligaments and muscles. The pain was so much and so quick I didn’t have time to scream. I was now pinned to the ground and looking up at a giant black eagle. It had a foot-long beak whose sharpness looked like it would make easy work of my tender flesh. When we locked eyes, I saw my end in its black unforgiving eyes.

Gareth suddenly appeared behind the eagle’s head, flying through the air out of its line of sight. The eagle didn’t pick up on his presence as he landed on its back, wrapped his left arm around the neck of the raptor, and drew his dagger clean across its neck with his other arm in an instant. The bird tried to turn, but it was far too late for it to respond to the attack. Its neck tendons were most likely cut, and the large bird hung over me for a brief second before collapsing onto me, completely burying my body.

The death collapse movement wrenched my arm and shoulder more, but I felt the talon release from my chest, alleviating pressure but allowing my lifeblood to flow from the wound. The weight of the bird was not my biggest problem. The blood from Gareth’s attack flowed freely from the eagle’s neck, and the feathers were suffocating me. I was drowning in blood and suffocating at the same time.

It was a short time later that Gareth had pulled the beast away. I couldn’t speak; the only sound I could make was a rasping moan. My eyes were mostly out of focus, but I could see the panicked look on Gareth’s face. He fumbled through a pouch on his waist, produced the restorative vial he had purchased today, and poured it into my mouth. “Shit, still bleeding,” was all he said as he ran to my pack and dumped the contents out. Was it weird that I was more concerned with the rough treatment of my books than my ebbing life?

Gareth returned with the vial he had given me a few hours ago and again forced the liquid into my throat. How the hell was I still conscious? My mind was currently clear and, oh shit! Two potions consecutively before the first dissolved! It was a simple thing told in a child’s rhyme. The dangers of combining two potions within the digestive tract. It was rarely a pleasant experience for the imbibers. It was a major error on Gareth’s part, but as long as they were from the same batch, I should be all right. At least, I hoped so.

A few moments later, Gareth finally relaxed. “It stopped bleeding, but your arm is all messed up. What should I do?” Well, I was in no place to give advice as my shock was starting to wear off, and the pain was doubling every second as my body figured out my condition. Tears started streaming from my eyes, and then I screamed. Well, it wasn’t a scream, as I now knew some of my ribs were broken. “Quiet Storme!” Gareth whispered urgently, rushing back to me, “The shadow eagles usually hunt in pairs.” He was scanning the sky now.

My thoughts drifted to shadow eagles. We learned about them in school. They had not been seen on the island in over twenty years, and Gareth and I had decided the stories of them were more to scare young children from venturing toward the edge of the island and the risk of falling. Even the tales said the eagles just targeted small children and livestock. I guess in the raptor’s eyes, I fell in that category.

“Okay, Storme. I need you to wait here. I am going to Callem. He is a little closer than if I went all the way back home. But I am going to have to move you beneath the ironwood tree by the water for cover. This is not going to be pleasant.” Well, it didn’t matter as Gareth’s first tug under my arms pushed me into unconsciousness.

I awoke with Callem kneeling over me, but I couldn’t open my eyes, so I just recognized the man by his voice. I wasn’t sure how long he had been there, but he was checking my body. I felt his hands inspecting my injuries gently. “It is not good, Gareth. The vial I gave him will deaden his nerves and keep him from feeling the pain. He is going to need a good healer from the capital,” he paused, “I have a friend who will come. We will get him back to the farmhouse first. Once he is safe there, you can go tell his parents.” I managed to shake my head somehow, signaling no.

Iron was in Callem’s tone of voice, “Fool boy. You are halfway to the grave, and if not that, you are probably going to be crippled unless you receive some upper-tier healing.” He sighed loudly. “Gareth, tell his parents what you will. He will live, and if he is crippled, he can explain to his parents why,” Callem said with some frustration. I heard Gareth’s footfalls fading as he raced away.

Although I couldn’t think clearly, I still muttered two words before slipping away to unconsciousness again, “My books….”

I awoke and could hear three distinct voices talking. One was Callem, one was feminine, and the third was male. I kept my eyes shut and listened. The female voice was speaking, “…are you sure? I repaired all the damage to the flesh and bone. The scar on his right shoulder will not be difficult to remove. There is also no sign of any further infection.”

The unfamiliar male voice spoke next, “Nisil, that will be all. Callem wants the scar to remind the boy of what happens in your youth when you are foolish. Hopefully, he will learn from this little adventure. You can wait on the Wind Splitter.” I heard the shuffling of someone rising and exiting the house.

The unfamiliar voice continued, “So, friend, you called me urgently out here on the communication stone to tend to this unremarkable boy. Who is he? I don’t see any resemblance on his face to you, so he is not a relation. I know you called me because Nisil was attached to me. She is definitely one of the better healers in all of Skyholme, but explain it to me in more detail so I can better ask a favor in return.”

Callem's rich, deep voice rumbled with a lighthearted chuckle as he replied, “Ha, Sebastian, your words have the air of a damned politician—bartering favors for lives. The boy I’m mentoring is part of a duo of disciples I’ve taken under my wing in the art of swordsmanship.”

His tone shifted subtly, becoming more serious. “The other boy shows remarkable promise; in time, he will likely outshine me. As for this boy, he too has the potential to become a skilled swordsman, but my primary reason for teaching him lies in the fact they come as a pair. They are fast friends like you and I.”

“Fast friends, are we now?” the man inquired with a hint of sarcasm. “So, you’ve taken up the role of mentoring boys to become master swordsmen? I distinctly remember you saying you would never venture down that path again after what happened to your son…” He trailed off, suddenly realizing the weight of his words. The memory hung heavy between them—Callem’s son had perished in a dungeon, a truth my father told us about.

Regaining his composure, the man continued, “Well, you might have saved my life on a half dozen occasions, but then you chose to run away out here to the middle of nowhere, leaving me to contend with that viper’s nest in the capital.” His voice held a mix of frustration and betrayal, underscoring the tension that lingered in the air.

I heard some movement in the kitchen. “I am parched, old friend. How about some of the 10-year-old vodka on ice with that red fruit juice you like so much?” His tone was lighter, and it was obvious he wanted to get past the uncomfortable conversation.

“You mean the juice you like so much that costs me 20 gold to import from the Sabian merchants? And the vodka I made with my own two hands and aged in my own white sugar oak casks imported from the lowlands? What happened to the 5-gallon cask you took with you last time you were here to grow my tobacco?” It was the first time I heard Callem sound exasperated, but his voice had no malice. The mention of his son was now safely buried in the conversation’s past.

“Don’t tell me how you get the juice! I might have to report you to the Triumvirate Customs Office!” Sebastian replied jokingly. “I still have some of that cask left, but the headaches of running the shipyards require a good shot every evening, so it is running low.”

Movement in the kitchen paused the conversation, “Did you know Lord Leif Dintho has nearly doubled the cost in the last year of black cedar he is selling to the Navy? I checked, and the general market price has barely budged in the lowlands. He is the only supplier in Skyholme, and when I told the Triumvirate in my monthly report, they just signed off on the cost increase. But you know what I did to spite the corrupt asshole? I redrafted our three standard ship hulls to reduce the inclusion of black cedar by half! You wouldn’t believe the hell storm that was created!” The man was passionate in his speech and laughing at his own cleverness.

“I’ve had enough of the political games, Sebastian. You’ll need to take on the challenge of saving Skyholme by yourself. I intend to savor my remaining years here in peace. Speaking of challenges, there’s that other boy, Gareth. He may very well be the key to stabilizing the Navy, provided you can guide him down a righteous path. I also want an assessment of his abilities. Are there any independent assessors or readers who aren’t swayed by noble interests? I’m reluctant to expose his talents to the Houses or the Triumvirate until he is capable of standing on his own.”

The man sighed resignedly and, after a pause, said, “Wynna and her daughter Ennet. They are two of the better readers in Skyholme, if not the best. They keep their readings private. At least I have not heard anything about them revealing information they have gleaned in my 72 years. That can’t be said of any of the other powerful readers. No matter how much they profess confidentiality, they are all in the pocket of one house or noble. If you are that worried, you can always take him to the lowlands for an assessment. I will even fly you there myself.”

The man continued. I heard liquid being poured. When had Callem moved? I hadn’t heard him shift position. “This drink is fantastic, but it doesn’t settle our debt of you dragging me out here. I do have a favor to ask of you.”

Callem spoke immediately, “Name it, and if within my power, I will do it, friend.” I think Sebastian was finishing off his glass as there was a long pause.

“My granddaughter, Cilia, is in her fourth year at the Naval Academy. She wants to captain a ship as I did in my heyday,” he paused, sighing heavily, “Well, earlier this year, there was trouble at the Naval Academy,” he paused. Sorrow laced his words as he continued. “Another officer assaulted her outside of training.” I heard wood splinter from the direction Callem had been speaking. “I know this would have never happened under your watch. That idiot in charge of the Academy always lets things slide and looks the other way for favors. I took care of what I could, Callem. The cadet was the son of Halifax Bricio. He is 22nd in line to succeed the Bricio seat on the Council of Three. He is still enrolled in the Academy, but Cilia has been moved back a year, repeating her 3rd year.”

Sebastian sighed, “I know she is being punished for his transgression. But at least she will not be in his classes any longer. I need you to teach her how to defend herself. Her martial skills are the only area in which she ranks low at the Academy. She can come here in a few months and train with you between academic years. The Bricio cadet also has two Wolfsguard with him at all times. While I could temporarily assign my Wolfsguard Nisil to her, it wouldn’t help. She needs to be able to stand on her own two feet in the Navy if she wants to be a captain. She is too stubborn to give up her dream. I have tried to convince her many times in the last few weeks. If this is too much, just say so, and I will hire others in the city.” I heard an empty glass being set down.

Captain Callem was quick to reply. “Cilia is the tall gangly granddaughter?”

“Tall, yes, and she has filled out. The last time I brought her to your farm was five, maybe six years ago. She is strong and a pretty good athlete, but her mind is her sharpest tool. She even has a small aether core and can imprint a few tier-one spells.” Pride rang in his tone, “I will also set up an appointment with Wynna as additional payment.” Sebastian added, sounding hopeful.

“Between terms? Not a lot of time to train her.” I heard Callem’s finger tapping on the counter as he considered. “I will focus on hand-to-hand, and she can choose one weapon to focus on while she is here. The boys can help. Ok, it is a deal. Get me an appointment with Wynna as well.” There was some movement as the pair moved about the kitchen.

Callem suddenly added, “Readings for both boys. I doubt Gareth will go without Storme to see a reader, so make an appointment for two.” The pair sounded like they moved together and were shaking hands, sealing the contract. “I will bring out three pouches of tobacco to the ship, but it is time for you to get moving. Your unexpected absence like this may draw eyes to me. And if you want more of the fruit juice and vodka, you can stop by anytime for a drink.”

“Hah, I am free to go where I want to old friend! The benefits of having my own skyship, but I can see my welcome has been used up,” he said in good humor. The door closed as Sebastian left.

“So Storme, how much did you hear?” I nearly jumped off the couch but slowly sat up. It was work to even sit up, and I was lightheaded. “You can wipe the surprise from your face. You don’t snore but have a low-pitched whistle when you sleep. Sebastian didn’t notice that it had stopped. I did.”

“Captain Callem, I woke shortly before Nisil left,” I said truthfully.

He was nodding, replaying in his mind what had been said. “Well, that was Admiral Sebastian Woodcraft. He is a powerful earth and nature archmage. I count him a friend,” he sighed, “one of the few I have left, alive at least. In case you are wondering, he changed his last name when he became recognized as an archmage. It had been Riffolk prior. Riffolk is a minor house of nobles in the capital that is known for…unsavory things.”

“He dissolved his bonds to his family when he reached the status of an archmage. Why do I tell you this? It is more for your safety. Even though he has cut ties with his family, they are still like mosquitos around him. Keep your distance from Sebastian until you are old enough to fend for yourself. So, do you know what a reader is?” Callem had moved to sit in front of me. I shook my head no.

“Well, man has always quested to quantify everything he lays his eyes on. I bet some mathematician out there has calculated how many blades of grass there are within the entire Sphere.” He huffed, “I digress. By assigning numbers to certain descriptors, readers can access how strong, smart, fast, fit, and many other things that make you up. The magnitude on their power will determine how accurate their readings are.”

“Some magitech devices do the same thing, but only the Triumvirate is allowed to utilize them in Skyholme. Readers are not outlawed yet. Some of the more powerful readers with tier 2 or tier 3 reading abilities can read others’ actual abilities, affinities, and racial traits. We do not have many in Skyholme, but there are many in the lowlands. I believe your friend Gareth has the tier 3 ability called Giant’s Constitution. He also has at least one other ability that has improved his reflexes, but I haven’t yet been able to ascertain which by observation. If I can identify his abilities, I can serve him better as his teacher.” He was looking at me for approval—maybe permission.

“How much do readings cost?” I asked. He misinterpreted my question.

“Don’t worry about it. I will cover the cost for both of you. If you choose not to reveal your abilities to me, I am also fine with that. I know your aether core awakened. Sebastian saw your books. He even offered a platinum coin for your cleanliness spell book in jest. It is quite the collector’s item. We both met the mage who wrote the spellbook in our youth. Her spell books are enchanted and cannot be copied, so each copy is treasured.”

“Well, you should rest after you eat. There is plenty of food in the cold chest. I need to see Sebastian off.” Callem rose and looked a little older, if that was possible. He retrieved some pouches of tobacco from the basement and went outside.

I hobbled over to the fridge. I started in on a complete strawberry pie. I was surprised when it was completely gone. Next, I cut off some cheese and large slices of ham and made two sandwiches with a few slices of herb bread. While I was working on the second sandwich, Callem returned. “Gareth is back.” As if by magic summoning, Gareth burst into the house.

He looked me over intently, “Storme, you look good. Can you use the arm?” I moved it to show him I was whole and functional. “I told your parents and mine we were out here helping Captain Callem on the farm for the next few days. I had to tell your mother you wrenched your shoulder, but Callem healed you. Also had to fend off Pascal from wanting to come out and help,” he grinned at his successful mission.

Callem interrupted our reunion, shaking his head. He was obviously not happy Gareth hadn’t told our parents the truth. He sighed, “Let Storme get some sleep. I will get you both some bed rolls, and you can sleep in my common room tonight. I believe you both have a sword lesson tomorrow.” I groaned, my body already shivering in anticipation of a new wave of pain.