Desperately, Nym conjured up a full body cushion of air, one that was thick and solid, strong enough to stop a grown man’s fist from hitting him. He could only hope it would be strong enough to protect him now. The ropes arced in from every different direction, and Nym curled into a ball, as tight as he could.
The air cushion held. At almost a foot thick all the way around his body, it deflected the ropes back as they lashed at him. Small burns appeared on Nym’s exposed arms anyway as the discharged lightning coursed through the air to sting him, but it was nothing compared to direct contact with the ropes.
The arcana was draining out of his soul well faster than he could pull in more. Worse, the constant shocks were making it harder and harder to hold his conduit open. He had no choice but to retreat back out of the log framework before the magic unraveled completely. There was no way he could beat the last segment.
He shook his head in denial. There had to be a way. Brogan had chosen this course, and the old man must have thought he could do it. A more cynical part of his mind pointed out that maybe the flight master just liked watching people get shocked. Maybe nobody ever beat the rope course. Or maybe they did, but Brogan had overestimated him.
Nym retreated out of the range of most of the ropes and shifted the barrier he’d made out of air to only cover the front half of him. Whatever he decided to do, he needed to do it soon. The actual distance to the other end of the rope course was only thirty or forty feet. He could fly it in a second if the ropes weren’t in the way. He hadn’t considered it as an option initially because he’d misunderstood what the obstacle was.
But the ropes were really only tied on one end. They were an obstacle he could force his way through, as long as he didn’t mind getting shocked. There was no way he could take that many direct hits. The ropes would cook him alive, and he’d probably pass out from the pain well before they got to that point.
On the other hand, they’d only really hurt him if he touched them. He formed a new cushion and used it to push away a rope that was snaking in to attack. It coiled around the cushion and resumed its descent, but it proved the theory at least. His magic could push the ropes away.
Strategy decided, he took a deep breath and flexed his conduit to open as wide as possible. Arcana poured into his soul well. Seconds passed by while he filled himself up and set up the spell he would need. Then, with a yell, he flung his hand forward and unleashed a blast of gale force air. It whipped through the rope course and flung everything in its path away.
Immediately, Nym darted forward, using every last sliver of arcana for pure speed. He didn’t try to dodge anything, just trusted his first spell to clear a path for him, and shot forward, aiming for a gap between two logs on the far side of the house.
He wasn’t nearly as fast as the super-charged blast of air, but he still made it three-quarters through before the first rope fell back into position on him. Nym forced the barrier to shift around, breaking it into free floating pieces that slapped away incoming ropes. The first one bounced off, spitting sparks as the tip sped off in the wrong direction.
He blocked a second one coming from head on, but then one of the ropes came at him from behind and lashed across his exposed back. Nym cried out in pain and clenched his eyes shut, but he held course. At the speed he was going, if he hit one of the framework logs instead of clearing the gap, he might not survive it.
It had not even been a second since he’d begun his desperate charge. He was practically clear when the first rope hit him. By the time the second rope struck him, he could hear the wind ripping around the log. A third one caught him on his way out, and the pain overwhelmed him. He was through the logs, but he lost control of his magic and tumbled into a high-speed free fall.
Barely conscious, he saw the world spin around him rapidly as he lost altitude. Instead of crashing straight into the earth, he gently eased down as he bled off speed until he finally landed on wobbly legs. The air current that had caught him disappeared, and he collapsed to his hands and knees.
“Nym! Are you alright?” Navarim came running up to him.
In response, Nym hurled his guts out onto the grass.
“That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen a new recruit do,” Brogan told him. Then he sighed and added, “Well, no. It was pretty stupid, but you’d be amazed what some of these idiots come up with. It almost worked. I imagine if I hadn’t taken so much from you with our little game of tag, you could have pulled it off.”
Nym rolled over onto his back and groaned. “Think I gave myself arcana poisoning again.”
“That’ll make it much harder to heal you,” Brogan said placidly. “Foolish child, so intent on showing off that you didn’t take even a second to consider the risks. This will be a good learning experience for you. Maybe you’ll think more next time you’re considering something stupid for the sake of your pride.”
Several mages landed nearby, having seen the spectacle from some of the other training courses. “Flight Master Brogan,” one of them said, “Is everything alright? Is there anything we can do to help?”
Brogan waved them off. “Get back to work. I have this under control.”
“Yes, of course. My apologies, Flight Master.”
They took off again, leaving Nym alone with the sadistic old man and the younger mage who’d gotten him into this mess. Nym looked over at Navarim and said, “I blame you.”
“Me? How is this my fault?”
“You charged the course too good!”
The two older mages looked at each other and burst out laughing. “I think he’ll be fine,” Brogan told Navarim. “Still can’t give you a flight license, but if the boy wants to come back and use the training field, he’s got my permission. He’s a bit reckless, but he’s got enough talent to be an interesting project. With proper training, he could be almost as good as me.”
Nym choked in outrage. “Almost as good? I’ll show you, you sadistic old man! Just you wait until I catch my breath!”
Still laughing, Brogan flew up into the air. “Take good care of him, Mage Navarim.”
Then he was gone, and Navarim was helping Nym to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you back to the teleport platform. Tell you what, I’ll buy you lunch, how’s that sound?”
Nym gave Brogan’s retreating form a glare. “Hmmph. I’ll be back, old man.”
* * *
“How’d it go?” the mage they’d left behind asked.
Navarim shrugged. “No special flying-only license like we were hoping, but he impressed Brogan, and you know that’s no easy feat. Damn near killed himself doing it, but he did it. Probably would have broken his neck on the landing if Brogan hadn’t caught him.”
“That was him at the end?” Nym asked, remembering the air currents that had bled off his momentum and deposited him safely on the ground.
“Well of course. He said he’d spot you. He wasn’t going to let you fall to your death when you ran yourself completely dry of arcana.”
The two older mages got talking about the adventure on the air field, and Nym excused himself to a nearby chair to sit down. He missed most of the conversation due to the amount of pain he was in, both from being shocked repeatedly and from the mild case of arcana poisoning he’d given himself. He must have dozed off, because when Navarim put a hand on his shoulder, he jerked in surprise.
“Easy there,” the mage told him. “Come on, I’m off for the day and I did say I’d buy you lunch to make up for putting you through Brogan’s torture chamber.”
Navarim led Nym to a nearby tavern which was significantly classier than the Trough and Saddle. He ordered food for the two of them and sat down at an empty table. “So, you’re a curious fellow. I’m sure you’ll get sick of hearing this soon if you haven’t already, but you’re too young to be using second circle magic. How’d that happen?”
Nym shrugged. “Started casting first circle magic, and things kind of progressed from there. I’m still figuring things out. I’ve been trying to hold two conduits at once so I can cast a first and second circle spell at the same time. No luck so far. Every time I try, I just end up feeling sick because I can’t figure out how to keep the arcana separate in my soul well.”
“Wait, you already figured out how to hold multiple conduits open?” Navarim asked. He gave a low whistle. “That is impressive. You’re a monster, Nym.”
Nym’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks. I didn’t do anything special though. It was just kind of the same as opening one conduit, but… doing it again.”
“It takes a lot of willpower and concentration to maintain two of them though. You are going to kick all sorts of ass when you’re old enough to go to the Academy. And I’ll be able to say I met you way back when before you were famous.”
Nym sighed. “Not any time soon, I think. Unless you know a way I can make a lot of money in a hurry?”
Navarim laughed. “Don’t we all wish we did? I can’t help you too much with that.”
Nym thought about that harvest of skywort blooms hidden behind the waterfall, just waiting for him to come clean them up. He sighed. “I think I’m poor by anyone’s standards. I was going to be supplying an alchemist on the north side of town, but the deal kind of fell through. Someone else interfered. Are there other alchemists who might need fresh ingredients?”
“Here? Not really. I didn’t even know we had one to begin with. Zoskan is such a small town, there’s not a lot here. If you were to go to Abilanth, there’d be a much better market. All sorts of magical research goes on there, and they produce tons of unique stuff thanks to all the magic going on. I’m sure you’d have an easier time there. Zoskan is a bland place by comparison.”
“I don’t even know where Abilanth is.”
“Well, if you’ve got two crests, it’s on the other end of the public teleport platform in the guildhall. Otherwise your best bet would be to attach yourself to a caravan traveling east. Keep doing that at each town you come to and you’ll probably get there inside a year, unless things go horrifically wrong.”
Nym’s heart sank at the news. Even assuming he just flew, he was looking at months and months of travel. And as far as teleporting there went, he didn’t even know what a crest was! There were too many types of money. Between wedges, shims, and now shields and crests, things were too confusing. Nobody in Palmara used anything but wedges.
They ate their food in silence, and Nym thanked him for the meal after. Navarim nodded and told him to come by any time in the mornings and he’d take Nym over to the air fields for an hour or two. Nym left the tavern, lost in his thoughts. He needed to find a good source of money. There were things he wanted to buy!
Desperately, Nym conjured up a full body cushion of air, one that was thick and solid, strong enough to stop a grown man’s fist from hitting him. He could only hope it would be strong enough to protect him now. The ropes arced in from every different direction, and Nym curled into a ball, as tight as he could.
The air cushion held. At almost a foot thick all the way around his body, it deflected the ropes back as they lashed at him. Small burns appeared on Nym’s exposed arms anyway as the discharged lightning coursed through the air to sting him, but it was nothing compared to direct contact with the ropes.
The arcana was draining out of his soul well faster than he could pull in more. Worse, the constant shocks were making it harder and harder to hold his conduit open. He had no choice but to retreat back out of the log framework before the magic unraveled completely. There was no way he could beat the last segment.
He shook his head in denial. There had to be a way. Brogan had chosen this course, and the old man must have thought he could do it. A more cynical part of his mind pointed out that maybe the flight master just liked watching people get shocked. Maybe nobody ever beat the rope course. Or maybe they did, but Brogan had overestimated him.
Nym retreated out of the range of most of the ropes and shifted the barrier he’d made out of air to only cover the front half of him. Whatever he decided to do, he needed to do it soon. The actual distance to the other end of the rope course was only thirty or forty feet. He could fly it in a second if the ropes weren’t in the way. He hadn’t considered it as an option initially because he’d misunderstood what the obstacle was.
But the ropes were really only tied on one end. They were an obstacle he could force his way through, as long as he didn’t mind getting shocked. There was no way he could take that many direct hits. The ropes would cook him alive, and he’d probably pass out from the pain well before they got to that point.
On the other hand, they’d only really hurt him if he touched them. He formed a new cushion and used it to push away a rope that was snaking in to attack. It coiled around the cushion and resumed its descent, but it proved the theory at least. His magic could push the ropes away.
Strategy decided, he took a deep breath and flexed his conduit to open as wide as possible. Arcana poured into his soul well. Seconds passed by while he filled himself up and set up the spell he would need. Then, with a yell, he flung his hand forward and unleashed a blast of gale force air. It whipped through the rope course and flung everything in its path away.
Immediately, Nym darted forward, using every last sliver of arcana for pure speed. He didn’t try to dodge anything, just trusted his first spell to clear a path for him, and shot forward, aiming for a gap between two logs on the far side of the house.
He wasn’t nearly as fast as the super-charged blast of air, but he still made it three-quarters through before the first rope fell back into position on him. Nym forced the barrier to shift around, breaking it into free floating pieces that slapped away incoming ropes. The first one bounced off, spitting sparks as the tip sped off in the wrong direction.
He blocked a second one coming from head on, but then one of the ropes came at him from behind and lashed across his exposed back. Nym cried out in pain and clenched his eyes shut, but he held course. At the speed he was going, if he hit one of the framework logs instead of clearing the gap, he might not survive it.
It had not even been a second since he’d begun his desperate charge. He was practically clear when the first rope hit him. By the time the second rope struck him, he could hear the wind ripping around the log. A third one caught him on his way out, and the pain overwhelmed him. He was through the logs, but he lost control of his magic and tumbled into a high-speed free fall.
Barely conscious, he saw the world spin around him rapidly as he lost altitude. Instead of crashing straight into the earth, he gently eased down as he bled off speed until he finally landed on wobbly legs. The air current that had caught him disappeared, and he collapsed to his hands and knees.
“Nym! Are you alright?” Navarim came running up to him.
In response, Nym hurled his guts out onto the grass.
“That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen a new recruit do,” Brogan told him. Then he sighed and added, “Well, no. It was pretty stupid, but you’d be amazed what some of these idiots come up with. It almost worked. I imagine if I hadn’t taken so much from you with our little game of tag, you could have pulled it off.”
Nym rolled over onto his back and groaned. “Think I gave myself arcana poisoning again.”
“That’ll make it much harder to heal you,” Brogan said placidly. “Foolish child, so intent on showing off that you didn’t take even a second to consider the risks. This will be a good learning experience for you. Maybe you’ll think more next time you’re considering something stupid for the sake of your pride.”
Several mages landed nearby, having seen the spectacle from some of the other training courses. “Flight Master Brogan,” one of them said, “Is everything alright? Is there anything we can do to help?”
Brogan waved them off. “Get back to work. I have this under control.”
“Yes, of course. My apologies, Flight Master.”
They took off again, leaving Nym alone with the sadistic old man and the younger mage who’d gotten him into this mess. Nym looked over at Navarim and said, “I blame you.”
“Me? How is this my fault?”
“You charged the course too good!”
The two older mages looked at each other and burst out laughing. “I think he’ll be fine,” Brogan told Navarim. “Still can’t give you a flight license, but if the boy wants to come back and use the training field, he’s got my permission. He’s a bit reckless, but he’s got enough talent to be an interesting project. With proper training, he could be almost as good as me.”
Nym choked in outrage. “Almost as good? I’ll show you, you sadistic old man! Just you wait until I catch my breath!”
Still laughing, Brogan flew up into the air. “Take good care of him, Mage Navarim.”
Then he was gone, and Navarim was helping Nym to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you back to the teleport platform. Tell you what, I’ll buy you lunch, how’s that sound?”
Nym gave Brogan’s retreating form a glare. “Hmmph. I’ll be back, old man.”
* * *
“How’d it go?” the mage they’d left behind asked.
Navarim shrugged. “No special flying-only license like we were hoping, but he impressed Brogan, and you know that’s no easy feat. Damn near killed himself doing it, but he did it. Probably would have broken his neck on the landing if Brogan hadn’t caught him.”
“That was him at the end?” Nym asked, remembering the air currents that had bled off his momentum and deposited him safely on the ground.
“Well of course. He said he’d spot you. He wasn’t going to let you fall to your death when you ran yourself completely dry of arcana.”
The two older mages got talking about the adventure on the air field, and Nym excused himself to a nearby chair to sit down. He missed most of the conversation due to the amount of pain he was in, both from being shocked repeatedly and from the mild case of arcana poisoning he’d given himself. He must have dozed off, because when Navarim put a hand on his shoulder, he jerked in surprise.
“Easy there,” the mage told him. “Come on, I’m off for the day and I did say I’d buy you lunch to make up for putting you through Brogan’s torture chamber.”
Navarim led Nym to a nearby tavern which was significantly classier than the Trough and Saddle. He ordered food for the two of them and sat down at an empty table. “So, you’re a curious fellow. I’m sure you’ll get sick of hearing this soon if you haven’t already, but you’re too young to be using second circle magic. How’d that happen?”
Nym shrugged. “Started casting first circle magic, and things kind of progressed from there. I’m still figuring things out. I’ve been trying to hold two conduits at once so I can cast a first and second circle spell at the same time. No luck so far. Every time I try, I just end up feeling sick because I can’t figure out how to keep the arcana separate in my soul well.”
“Wait, you already figured out how to hold multiple conduits open?” Navarim asked. He gave a low whistle. “That is impressive. You’re a monster, Nym.”
Nym’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks. I didn’t do anything special though. It was just kind of the same as opening one conduit, but… doing it again.”
“It takes a lot of willpower and concentration to maintain two of them though. You are going to kick all sorts of ass when you’re old enough to go to the Academy. And I’ll be able to say I met you way back when before you were famous.”
Nym sighed. “Not any time soon, I think. Unless you know a way I can make a lot of money in a hurry?”
Navarim laughed. “Don’t we all wish we did? I can’t help you too much with that.”
Nym thought about that harvest of skywort blooms hidden behind the waterfall, just waiting for him to come clean them up. He sighed. “I think I’m poor by anyone’s standards. I was going to be supplying an alchemist on the north side of town, but the deal kind of fell through. Someone else interfered. Are there other alchemists who might need fresh ingredients?”
“Here? Not really. I didn’t even know we had one to begin with. Zoskan is such a small town, there’s not a lot here. If you were to go to Abilanth, there’d be a much better market. All sorts of magical research goes on there, and they produce tons of unique stuff thanks to all the magic going on. I’m sure you’d have an easier time there. Zoskan is a bland place by comparison.”
“I don’t even know where Abilanth is.”
“Well, if you’ve got two crests, it’s on the other end of the public teleport platform in the guildhall. Otherwise your best bet would be to attach yourself to a caravan traveling east. Keep doing that at each town you come to and you’ll probably get there inside a year, unless things go horrifically wrong.”
Nym’s heart sank at the news. Even assuming he just flew, he was looking at months and months of travel. And as far as teleporting there went, he didn’t even know what a crest was! There were too many types of money. Between wedges, shims, and now shields and crests, things were too confusing. Nobody in Palmara used anything but wedges.
They ate their food in silence, and Nym thanked him for the meal after. Navarim nodded and told him to come by any time in the mornings and he’d take Nym over to the air fields for an hour or two. Nym left the tavern, lost in his thoughts. He needed to find a good source of money. There were things he wanted to buy!
