Vayal Academy

The sky is a viciously bright blue, oddly cloudless despite the chilly air, as we both sprint, actually sprint, toward the tower — Vila is majestic and terrifying, a lioness with her ears flat against her head, feet pounding against the polished, cobblestoned crystals of the path. The beauty of Vayal’s gardens, massive willow trees and overflowing flowers, turns to a rainbow blur. My sheer speed means that, when I crash into Abana, we both go careening off the path. My head slams into a decorative stone, bursting with buds of white quartz; pain explodes, red clouds my vision. We spin together across the ground and somehow, like a cat landing on her feet, Abana ends up on top, straddling me.

“You are hurt,” says the Restorationist with her head cocked. “I will help you, and you will help me, yes?”

“I don’t have time, especially not for you, fucking sadist!”

“My girlfriend and I need help sneaking into the Diligence compound.”

Why are you even trying to reason with this bitch? Are you a diplomat, or a warrior?

I try to wrench her off, but in the same moment a pulse of sedating golden magic passes through me and my limbs grow too heavy to move. No!

Vila, a furious angel, yanks Abana up by the scruff of the neck and tosses her violently to the side. The white raccoon goes somersaulting through the dizzying rainbow of a magically resilient flower-bed; the tulips perk right back up like nothing happened. Abana comes to a stop on a knee, looking like she’s ready to pounce again as Vila helps me to my feet, saying: “magic against another student is an automatic black mark. Leave before I make it one for each of you.”

Neither one acknowledges her. I fix Gelstra with a look as I struggle to walk, leaning against the mountain-lion’s shoulder, body heavy as lead. “Are you insane?”

Gelstra bristles. “No.”

“I beg to differ! Should I start with you dating the psychotic raccoon? Or the fact that you already know how to sneak into the Diligence compound? I saw you there. We talked.”

If it were up to me, I would be jumping off a tower right now, thoughts of Gelstra far from my mind, but Abana’s spell means that we can only limp along, Vila supporting most of my weight. The porcupine easily keeps pace, Abana joining us a moment later, and Gods, any passer-by would take us for a group of friends.

“I… forgot.”

“You-?” my voice comes out with a scoff of disbelief, and Abana hisses.

“You will speak to my girlfriend more politely, Orc. She has been the victim of a magical accident. Memories are temporarily lost to her.” At this, Gelstra frowns at the ground in a way that makes me think whatever it is might not be so temporary. I feel a stab of sympathy for her as Vila rolls her eyes sharply. Looks like Gelstra won’t be escaping this without a mark. “You will restore this knowledge to her, and then I will negate my sedation spell.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” this I direct to Gelstra, I could never be sorry for the awful white raccoon, “but I have no idea how you used to sneak into Diligence. You didn’t tell me.”

Gelstra frowns again, disturbed, as a tired voice from behind us says; “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Guardian Vila, I thought I told you to bring Miss Hare back to Diligence?”

She raises an eyebrow at the way I hang off Vila, who barely seems to notice with the way she gazes up at Professor Yola, stammering out syllabic excuses. Vila, it seems, has a crush on teacher. Yola cuts her off. “Headmistress Lyra will see you now Miss Hare; come, your friends may accompany you, if you like.”

“We must be attending to other things;” says Abana, making to scurry away just as a bolt of yellow magic strikes her and Gelstra both. They crumble to the floor, and I have no time to react before I’m down, too, Vila with me, Yola standing over us with a look of neutral efficiency.

I dream of Mae. She’s closer to me, now, the closest she’s been since whatever it was took her. Her surroundings are hard to make out amidst the inky dream, but I can sense her fear.

“I still don’t know about sending you out there,” she says.

“That’s good. I’m not sure about sending me out either,” Nym replies.

“And who else is gonna keep me warm?”

“Um. Yeah. I was gonna say. Maybe you could warm me up before I go into the cold?”

“Of course, Nym. You just lie back.”

I come to. I’m on an almost-vertical slab, secured by crackling energy around my wrists and ankles. The world has shrunk to this tiny pocket of salvation, a circular island surrounded by insistent, clawing darkness. The shadows writhe. More slabs line the circle — Abana’s on one to my left, Gelstra to my right. The others are empty, but for Indel opposite me, out cold.

The only one of us not strapped to a slab is Vila, who lies on the black soil floor, breathing deeply and looking almost peaceful.

My entire body shivers. I thought I knew cold — I thought I liked cold — but this is something else, a chill that seeps in like rot, sinks beneath the layers of skin and muscle and coils round bones.

“Ah. Awake already. There’s that orcish constitution I’ve heard so much about.” Professor Yola stands at the top of the circle, standing before a many-spoked arcane device covered in pulsing crystals. I scrunch my eyes up and look past the shape of it, strip away the artifice and see it for what it really is — that’s keeping the darkness at bay, I think. “I do hope you’re not too uncomfortable. I need you conscious for this.”

Something’s fucking wrong, here, and I’ve half a mind to just smash my head back against the stone and try knock myself out. But wait. See if you can figure out what’s going on. “Where are we?”

“Oh? You don’t recognise it? What’s Tailina even teaching you? I thought a Mystic should have the planes memorised, by now.”

The chill, the dark, the whispers all around… “Daath. The Plane of Death.”

“Ah. Very good, Miss Hare. I see you haven’t spent all your time here running around with every pretty girl you can find.”

Hell of a way to find out you’re developing a reputation. A fluttering spirit, like a bat made of razor wire, dives screeching into the circle. The moment it enters it turns to ash.

“Now, I’d rather not hurt you. Of course, you know what I’ve done. So the only circumstance where I can let you go is one where I needn’t worry about recriminations. That means you must help me, you understand?”

“Help you how?”

“An astute question.”

Before Yola can continue, Vila’s stirring interrupts. She crouches down and puts a hand on Vila’s chest. “Oh, Vila, I am so sorry to see you mixed up in all this. I wish you had just listened to me. You should know by now your teacher only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yola,” her reply is whispered, eyes cast at the creeping darkness all about. “What’s going on?”

She strokes the back of her head, cooing like Vila’s a dog in a thunderstorm. “Shh, it’s alright. This is… not a pleasant place. We need not be here long. You just rest, sweet thing.”

“Wait, Hattie? What are you-”

“Don’t concern yourself-”

“You can’t hurt her.”

“Enough.” Magic surges through her fingertips and Vila sleeps once more. “Now then.” Yola stands before me, hands clasped behind her back. “The only way any of you make it out of this alive, is if the two of us convince the Princess Indel to give me what I want.”

“I don’t even know what you want!”

At my raised voice, Indel jolts awake on the slab across from me. “Hattie! My love! No!”

Yola rolls her eyes. Whether at me or Indel, I can’t say. “I want the Princess to teleport all the remaining Restorationists at Vayal here. She’s been remarkably stubborn.”

“You’re the one kidnapping the Restorationists!? What do you want with them!?”

“It hardly matters for our purposes, Miss Hare. Your girlfriend will teleport the mages to me, and then I will let both of you go.”

My mind spins, I stare at Indel, looking frighteningly weak but still thrashing, trying to get to me. I try to talk to her in her mind, to comfort her, but Yola must have some magic dampening field on me.

“Indel can’t do that!” I say. “She’s a talented First-Year, not a God.”

“You’re right that she can’t — not yet. I intend to rectify that. Her Familiar has already done half the work — permanent teleportation makes the rest possible.” She reaches into her satchel and removes an orb, which glows in a swirling rainbow nexus, set in an ornate metal casing. “The prism will help. But for such an intensive spell, she will need more than to merely cast through it. No… no. Everything that needs to happen can only happen if she merges the prism into herself.”

That… No. It was one of the first things Tailina taught us. Merging any kind of magical amplifier into yourself is pure danger. Of the handful of mages who have tried it and lived, almost all were the kind of evil that needs a band of heroes to put it down and set the world back to rights. “You’ll kill her.”

“Not so, Miss Hare. This is the last thing I shall ever teach you, so be sure to listen well. Yes, there is great risk… but it is possible to make another shoulder this burden. The porcupine shall do nicely. As a Mystic, she has the greatest chance of surviving — and it is no loss if she does not. Should the ritual fail, we can use the raccoon, though it would be a shame to lose another Restorationist.”

Another Restorationist? If I didn’t know Mae was alive from my dream, I would be hysterical with panic right now. As it is, I can’t do anything except thrash desperately against my restraints. This woman is clearly insane, and whatever she has planned for the kidnapped mages, it can’t be good. “Don’t do it, Indel!” I cry.

“She will.” With a simple wave of Yola’s hand my slab rockets to horizontal, leaving my top-half outside the circle. Don’t scream don’t scream don’t scream. Need to hold it together so Indel doesn’t give in, but, fuck, it’s hard — everything is dark, every inch of skin burns, predatory wingbeats flap ever closer. Just don’t scream. You can’t let Indel do this. And she won’t. As long as you don’t scream.

The slab rights itself. Inside the bubble, I can hear Indel’s screams. Every breath of air inside the circle is suddenly a precious thing, to be cradled against me, cherished with every part of me. I just can’t show Indel how much it affected me.

“My love!” she screams.

“It’s okay; I’m okay.”

“Not for long,” Yola says, hand raised.

“Wait!” I shout. “What will you do with them?”

Yola chuckles. “Why, Miss Hare, I’ll do what all the small-minded mages are too afraid to do. What the Headmistress is too afraid of to even allow its mention: I will conquer death.”

“But, the-”

“The Cycle, yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before. A comforting lie. But a lie none-the-less. If you want to know what’s waiting on the other side… ask them. They’re the ones who warned me.” And like that, I’m plunged back into the ice, left to drown. Claws rake my face, but the bleeding’s on the inside, I know, it’s on the inside — I can’t help but scream and scream and scream.

I’m pulled back in to Indel’s terrified screams. “-atever you want. Please!”

“Very good,” says Yola as my slab returns to its place. Her shoes click against the ground, coated in ash and shards of bone. Her voice is calm, all business as she presents the glowing rainbow orb to Indel. “Open your energy field,” she instructs, the orb levitating before Indel now. She can only stare. “Accept it into yourself. I must ask that you don’t thrash when it merges with your body.”

“Don’t, Indel! Don’t!” she looks at me with a mixture of fear and determination.

The orb presses against her chest and she yelps like it burns. Yola’s delicate fingers link Indel to Gelstra, and the porcupine’s eyes shoot open. She thrashes and screams, but Indel’s pain must vanish, because she remains still. “I couldn’t bare it, my love,” she says. “I couldn’t possibly watch you suffer. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, yes, young love. Good for you.” Yola doesn’t even try to hide her disdain. “Just stay still.”

The orb completes its burial, and Indel’s feathers close over the gaping hole. Gelstra screams, foam at the corners of her mouth, and Abana’s eyes shoot open. Seemingly not the slightest bit groggy, she snaps her head about the circle before fixing them on Yola. “Stop this. You are hurting my girlfriend.”

Yola knocks her right back out with a sedating mote.

Light bursts from Indel’s chest, forcing my eyes closed against its searing brightness. When I can finally see again, Indel’s body is changed.

Her once orange beak is now jet black, her bright white feathers shot through with streaks of glittering silver, making her seem like a figurine made of glass. Her once lively red eyes are now black and blank. Her wings, splayed out from the way her arms are pinned to the slab, are now transparent and crystalline. Her face is utterly blank.

“Indel!?” I cry. There’s no reaction. Beside her, Gelstra lies totally still. “Gelstra!”

“Hm; we lost the Mystic, but it seems to have worked,” says Yola primly, flicking her fingers and sending Indel’s slab spinning up into the air. For a moment, I think she’s going to send her flying out amongst the monsters, but it comes to rest against her towering arcane device — the stone melts into it, and soon the slab’s gone completely, Indel fixed to the device by shimmering shackles of rainbow energy. A pulse runs up the metal, bathing the entire circle in a static hum. It judders, comes roaring to life, and beneath her spread arms, Indel’s beautiful glass wings glow purple, then yellow, then orange, repeating the sequence, the light dancing against the air, thick with ash. Indel’s beak opens wide, then snaps shut just as fast.

“Indel!” I shout, trying so desperately to free myself, knowing that if I could just break free, just get out of these restraints, then I could help her, I could save her. But I can’t.

There’s another unbearable flash of light like a world being born, and then it’s over. Indel’s body hangs limp against the device, a marionette on a string, and Geltra’s sits just as motionless.

“I have them in hand. Good. The generator is fuelled for another hour — but it will be closer to twenty minutes; I must divert power to open my passage to the base camp. Regardless, your assistance has been helpful. If I have time, I will return for you.”

She waves her hand and a wispy interface appears before her. A few touches of her finger render the circle even tighter, such that the darkness tickles my back, and a narrow tunnel of light opens across the landscape. I crane my head desperately to see its destination, but I just can’t get the angle from where I am. Before she goes, she scoops Vila into her arms, regarding her with a hard to parse smile.

Yola walks away down the tunnel, and I’m stuck screaming for Indel to wake up, please, please, please, as the Plane of Death inches ever closer.