that he
came from common stock. His magical talents had developed at a very young age,
and he was taken in as a ward of the Academy to hone his skills in service of
the Empire. Most of the students at the Academy had sorcerous bloodlines that
could be traced back innumerable generations. A few talented peasants and
children hailing from the occupied lands were allowed admittance but were
widely scorned by the better bred students. Small and frail, as unimposing as a
child can be, Iridan’s life would have been miserable if a certain gregarious
prodigy had not taken him under his wing. Brannis had originally felt a sense
of noblesse oblige toward protecting Iridan, a strong sense of
superiority being a trait learned early as a scion of the Solaran clan.
Eventually a genuine friendship had developed and then remained into their
adulthood. Iridan was, in fact, the only sorcerer who was willing to join the
expedition under Brannis’s command without being coerced. It was little wonder
of course; Iridan owed him many favors. He still remembered the first …
*
* * * * * * *
“Ouch! Hey, stop it! Help!”
A young boy lay on the grassy courtyard of the Academy
grounds, pinned by one his fellow students, who was pummeling him. It was
mid-winter, and the chill in the air kept all the students bundled warmly in
woolen coats, hats, and mittens at the insistence of their instructors. Despite
the fact he could not make out the features of either combatant from where he
stood, some dozen paces distant, Brannis recognized the voice of the boy being
beaten. It was that quiet boy, Iridan, the one who had taken to following him
around for most of the week since he had first arrived. It seemed that he could
not leave the kid alone for even a few moments without him getting bullied.
Well, hopefully the mittens help keep the punches from
hurting too much.
A quick sprint covered the distance that separated
Brannis from the action, and he tackled the boy who had pinned Iridan. He
landed heavily atop the aggressor and knocked him clear of where Iridan was
lying, pinning the bully in turn, face down in the cold grass.
“Thank you, Master Brannis,” young Iridan addressed
his savior.
Iridan scrambled to his feet to get out of the way of
the fighting. Brannis was the tallest boy in their class, and this was not the
first occasion when he had to step in and defend his diminutive friend in the
short time they had known each other.
Brannis did not answer back right away, instead
struggling to roll his opponent over to pay him back for hitting Iridan. The boy
was Brannis’s size, which meant he must have been an older student from one of
the other classes, and he was putting up a mighty struggle to get out from
under Brannis. Still, Brannis was determined and held the advantage of
leverage. Eventually he managed to turn the older boy over so he could punch
him in the face a few times, just as he had done to Iridan. Just as Brannis had
drawn back his fist to land a wicked punch, he stopped short, stunned.
She is a girl!
There were nearly as many girls enrolled at the
Imperial Academy as there were boys. Still, the last thing he expected to see
when turning over the “boy” who had been beating Iridan was a pair of sparkling
green eyes looking back into his own—the eyes of someone who was, quite
clearly, a girl. Brannis’s moment of surprised inaction was short lived, for
along with those eyes came the furrowed brow and clenched jaw of a very angry
young girl who happened to be a bully.
After a brief moment of darkness, Brannis’s vision
cleared, and he saw the sky framing that same face of the girl who had, as far
as he could tell, just slugged him in the face. Another blow followed the
first, as the girl had pinned Brannis in turn—but he was not Iridan. Heaving
the girl off him, he rolled back on top of her, but he could not very well
punch a girl. After another brief struggle, Brannis managed to pin the girl
face-first on the
came from common stock. His magical talents had developed at a very young age,
and he was taken in as a ward of the Academy to hone his skills in service of
the Empire. Most of the students at the Academy had sorcerous bloodlines that
could be traced back innumerable generations. A few talented peasants and
children hailing from the occupied lands were allowed admittance but were
widely scorned by the better bred students. Small and frail, as unimposing as a
child can be, Iridan’s life would have been miserable if a certain gregarious
prodigy had not taken him under his wing. Brannis had originally felt a sense
of noblesse oblige toward protecting Iridan, a strong sense of
superiority being a trait learned early as a scion of the Solaran clan.
Eventually a genuine friendship had developed and then remained into their
adulthood. Iridan was, in fact, the only sorcerer who was willing to join the
expedition under Brannis’s command without being coerced. It was little wonder
of course; Iridan owed him many favors. He still remembered the first …
*
* * * * * * *
“Ouch! Hey, stop it! Help!”
A young boy lay on the grassy courtyard of the Academy
grounds, pinned by one his fellow students, who was pummeling him. It was
mid-winter, and the chill in the air kept all the students bundled warmly in
woolen coats, hats, and mittens at the insistence of their instructors. Despite
the fact he could not make out the features of either combatant from where he
stood, some dozen paces distant, Brannis recognized the voice of the boy being
beaten. It was that quiet boy, Iridan, the one who had taken to following him
around for most of the week since he had first arrived. It seemed that he could
not leave the kid alone for even a few moments without him getting bullied.
Well, hopefully the mittens help keep the punches from
hurting too much.
A quick sprint covered the distance that separated
Brannis from the action, and he tackled the boy who had pinned Iridan. He
landed heavily atop the aggressor and knocked him clear of where Iridan was
lying, pinning the bully in turn, face down in the cold grass.
“Thank you, Master Brannis,” young Iridan addressed
his savior.
Iridan scrambled to his feet to get out of the way of
the fighting. Brannis was the tallest boy in their class, and this was not the
first occasion when he had to step in and defend his diminutive friend in the
short time they had known each other.
Brannis did not answer back right away, instead
struggling to roll his opponent over to pay him back for hitting Iridan. The boy
was Brannis’s size, which meant he must have been an older student from one of
the other classes, and he was putting up a mighty struggle to get out from
under Brannis. Still, Brannis was determined and held the advantage of
leverage. Eventually he managed to turn the older boy over so he could punch
him in the face a few times, just as he had done to Iridan. Just as Brannis had
drawn back his fist to land a wicked punch, he stopped short, stunned.
She is a girl!
There were nearly as many girls enrolled at the
Imperial Academy as there were boys. Still, the last thing he expected to see
when turning over the “boy” who had been beating Iridan was a pair of sparkling
green eyes looking back into his own—the eyes of someone who was, quite
clearly, a girl. Brannis’s moment of surprised inaction was short lived, for
along with those eyes came the furrowed brow and clenched jaw of a very angry
young girl who happened to be a bully.
After a brief moment of darkness, Brannis’s vision
cleared, and he saw the sky framing that same face of the girl who had, as far
as he could tell, just slugged him in the face. Another blow followed the
first, as the girl had pinned Brannis in turn—but he was not Iridan. Heaving
the girl off him, he rolled back on top of her, but he could not very well
punch a girl. After another brief struggle, Brannis managed to pin the girl
face-first on the
Similar Books
