Young Writers Society

Chapter 1

Ayra grinned with childish excitement at the small creature she had weaved with her magic, one that looked like an elongated lizard with wings. She reached her hands towards it and as her hands came to close on the small beast, it let out a small screech and grabbed onto one Ayra's fingers, starting to nibble at it like a cub in need of food. Its wings calmed their fluttering and a pair of pearl eyes stared at the mage's soothing smile.

"Shhh, little one. It will be over soon" she whispered into her palms as she started unraveling the weave that made up the critter. She watched as, string after string, it disappeared, loosening its grip on her finger, and letting out a pathetic squeal as the last figment of magic was destroyed.

The classroom remained silent as Ayra turned to face her fellow magi and from the back of the class, the Master's eyes looked at her in a way that did not love nor condemn her actions. Master Tanakos reached towards his cane, his hand trembling so hard it seemed like an eternity would pass before the two would meet; Ayra wondered whether or not his cane would be this patient were it not made from wood.

Master Tanakos, arguably the most powerful archmage in the kingdom, was an old man, one that could barely speak without giving the impression that he was about to, by mistake, give his last breath between the words. His skin was stained by time, as if life herself had spat on him, envious of his stubbornness, and his body has hunched over, curled as if trying to trap his spirit, never allowing it to escape. Ayra was sure that the old mage was just, out of spite, continuously trying to outlive his apprentices.

As he finally retrieved his cane and pushed into it to get up from his chair, the trembling from his hand extended through his whole body, in such a way that it seemed an inhumane effort was required for that action. Maybe, at his age, it really was.

"Dear miss Lott has successfully demonstrated us that magic can indeed be weaved into giving form to creatures, yet she has not answered my questions: Is there life? Is there spirit?"

"No, there isn't," the apprentice quickly replied. "If it were, it would have fought back when I started to unravel it or it would have fled."

"Do we fight, do we flee when we start unraveling, dear Ayra? Or do we just squeal our last sound into this world before returning to our creator?

The class along with her remained silent, expecting for the Master to continue. They watched as he made his way towards the girl and reached a skeleton hand towards her asking for support.

"Even more so, how can we tell apart a well-weaved spell from the original itself?" he asked, the trembling hand stopping into the young girl's hand, a trembling smiling spreading across his chapped lips, his trembling walk coming to a stop.

"Ayra Lott, with all due respect to your mastery of spellweaving, I'd very much expect you to arrive in original form at my courses, young lady" he said as he removed his stretched hand, pulling a very visible and now glowing string from the fake Ayra, starting to unravel the creation.

"I'd come myself, Master Tanakos, but I'd have to get out of bed," Ayra giggled, her attention dropping towards her disappearing member.

"If I can get out of bed, you can too, miss Lott."

"Fair point. Might I borrow your cane next time. That seems to help."

A growl of giggles spread across the classroom and in a good mood, the Master cracked his smile further up his face before yanking the thread and making the image of Ayra Lott disappear.

Ayra cut the connection to her double, waiting a couple of moments before laying her head back into the comfortable pillows. As much as she loved to play around, the double had took an immense amount of energy to create, even much more to control and now the fun was bolting its toll on her.

At 23 years of age, she'd become an accomplished archmage, yet she was still in her apprenticehood with Master Tanakos. It was an annoying little subject which had bugged her since her arrival at the Academy. The better she became, the more demanding and numerous Tanakos' tests became as well.

She let out a long sigh before stretching her body, trying to push away the numbness that gripped her muscles and her mouth opened to make way to a jaw-breaking yawn. The momentary lapse in her hearing did not do her heart any good, did not warn her of the urgent steps that drew closer to her chambers. The door flung open, smashing into the wall behind, prompting several tomes to collapse from their shelves.

Ayra flinched, and in a pathetic attempt to defend herself from whatever had stormed into her room, stretched her arm in front of her, prepared to let loose a burst of energy towards the invading force. Her hand snapped back, and with a dull "slap", positioned itself on her face.

"I just had enough of you! You and your equally idiotic companion here!" Master Yuko's voice boomed.

Between fingers and the tears that filled her eyes as the burn from the slap increased in intensity, she could make out the silhouette of the mage that had barged in, holding Kress al'Mai, her "equally idiotic companion", by his collar.

"If I catch any of you sneaking through the basement, I will turn you into fertilizer. Am I clear?!"

She didn't wait for an answer, turned on her heels, released Kress' collar and marched out, the door closing behind her. Another row of books shot towards the floor. Kress jumped towards the nearest wall seeing himself free and, most importantly, alive. It took them several moments to process the encounter before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

"Did you get it?" the girl asked between chuckles as she untangled from the sheets and rolled out of bed.

Kress brought his bag on the table and started rummaging through it. Not before long, he produced a small, blue crystal from within and a sly smile sketched on his thin lips. Ayra leaned over the table and in a quick motion, snatched the crystal out of Kress fingers, cradling it at her chest.

"Hey! What about our deal?"

"It still stands, Kress. You'll have it by tomorrow,"

"You don't have it? You thought I couldn't pull it off?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, hurt that she wouldn't trust him enough.

"Truth be told, no. But you get extra points for surviving Master Yuko," she chuckled. She slipped the crystal into a tiny box on her desk and turned to Kress. "How about a celebratory lunch for now?"

The growl erupting from Kress' stomach answered her question before him.

-----

Through the day, Ayra barely held herself to her duties as curiosity swelled underneath her skin like an untamed beast, making her more and more impatient to return to her room. The crystal Kress had brought her was ancient, that was for sure. What was more perplexing to her was that small artefact had been protected by spells woven by Master Tanakos himself. It took her and Kress a full year to succeed in unraveling them and, looking back, she was impressed that they had done it without losing an arm or succumbing to a "blood-boiling-face-turns-to-mush" type of curse.

After conjuring a solid lie about needing to finish weaving a spell for Tanakos and presenting it with passion to Kress, she abandoned her friend in favor of satisfying her curiosity. She crossed the main garden, trying to keep her pace steady and not draw attention to her, made a quick turn on the corridor leading to the common room, and slipped towards the dormitories like a shadow. A very sneaky shadow, she thought.

When she finally closed the door of her room behind her, Ayra let out a relieved sigh and turned her attention to the small box on her desk. A step foward from the mage made several candles spring to life, small flames erupting and then settling in a flinching dance that fabricated pleasant shadows on her walls. Another step made the chair from the desk trail back enough to make room for an occupant. Finally, a third step brought Ayra in front of her desk, in front of her precious box.

"Now...Let's see what's it with this tiny piece of crystal, shall we, dear miss Lott?" she voiced, clumsly trying to imitate Master Tanakos way of calling her.

She opened the box, carefully placing her fingers over the crystal, inspecting the sharp edges that glowed a soft blue. The crystal was otherwise smooth, slightly warm to the touch. She cleared her throat preparing to weave a spell over it.

And for the first time since she had first conjured a figment of magic, she regretted it.

The crystal shattered under her palm, splinters shooting through her hand, some lodging themselves in her flesh, others richoceting off the walls and smashing into anything in their path.

The shock made her jump up and stumble backwards, falling over with her chair. Pain followed soon after her body made contact with the hard wooden floor, pain unlike anything she had felt before. It blasted through every fiber of her being, slithering towards the back of her neck and then pulsating into her skull like a battering ram trying to smash through the gates of her mind. She felt her mouth open and the air leave her lungs, but couldn't hear anything.

"Wait it out. Wait it out. Wait it out" she chanted, shutting her eyes as her body starting convulsing under the agony.

"Don't be afraid."

It was then that her horror peaked. The moment when she heard words in her mind that were not thought by her. Her fortress was almost done for. Her mind was reaching towards the sweet thought of surrender. Her body implored for it.

"I'm not going to hurt you, cub of man." The voice called out again, this time softer, comforting. Every word spoken to her by whatever entity she had wrouth loose, wrapped around her mind.

"You are hurting me. Let me go!" she pushed through trying to fight herself out of the mess.

The entity stopped trying to poke at her mind, allowing Ayra to regain some sort of control over her body, allowing it to rest motionless on the floor. Her hearing was the second thing that came back to her and that was the second thing she deeply regretted that night. Her Wailer had released, filling the Academy with a ear-piercing scream, notifying everyone that she was in danger.

"I am sorry," the voice creeped back into her thoughts.

"What... Who are you?"

"Sik,"

"Sik, can you let me go now?"

A pair of eyes appeared over her, blinking curiously at her features. No head. Just eyes. Eyes that seemed to be made out of lightning.

The Wailer continued to wreak havoc on her ears, but as sounds of steps made themselves heard, another feeling started crawling through the mage's body. A darker one, a numbning one. The door, once again that day, flung open. A new pair of eyes made their way into her field of view. This pair was human. The snapped back and forth in their sockets. Deep sockets.

"Ayra, stay awake, my dear," Tanakos pleaded as he kneeled next to her. Somewhere above him, two blue electric eyes blinked. “Falsey, silence that Wailer! Yuko, get the students out of here!” the old man barked with power.

She directed her attention to her Master and slowly guilt gripped at her heart. The old man's face, despite the mask of concentration brought by his weaving, betrayed something she never thought could mark the mage - fear.

With that in mind, Ayra allowed that numbness to take over.