To be a Wizard
By: K.D.
September 5, 2009

	Logan’s arms were stacked full of textbooks and tomes, forcing him to clumsily shoulder his way through the heavy door of his personal dormitory room.

	The content of the living space was typical of the way things were at the Wizards’ Academy, what with its excessively cramped 6-by-10-foot area that provided just barely enough space for a small bed, desk, nightstand, and storage chest crammed together for a single occupant.

Given that collusion and socializing between students was forbidden (on the basis of some long and twisted logic that Logan never could fully comprehend), this was the way it had to be in order to provide boarding for enough students. 

And it definitely put a stop to mischievous young wizards going on rule-breaking sprees and wild adventures.

	Logan was a young man of 17 years or thereabouts, shorter and slighter in build than average, with a youthful face and short, dense brown hair. Whatever physical shortcomings he might had were countered by his interest in magic and aptitude for learning. A year ago, he had finally saved enough money to attend this academy for magically-talented adolescents, and here he had stayed ever since.

	Logan hefted his stack of books and put them on the desk, pausing to catch his breath. Although minor enchantments of weight-reduction were standard on all textbooks, it was still quite a number to cart around for all of the various studies.

	Logan checked the outside hallway one last time, noting that it was relatively clear. He closed and locked the door securely, then turned to face the empty room.

	“Orion, I need you,” he said in a clear tone.

	For a short moment, nothing happened. Then, above the nightstand, the air seemed to shimmer – perhaps even bend in upon itself. The shimmer in the air turned dark, like smoke, coalescing and solidifying into a tangible form within seconds.

	From the murky smoke appeared an array of dull gold scales, from which sprang taloned limbs, a tapered tail, and a horn-adorned head – the form of a long and very serpentine gold dragon, but no taller than 30 centimeters at casual standing.

	The dragon, Orion, gave a great yawn with his little jaws and adopted a more leisurely posture by lowering himself onto his belly, tilting his head at Logan like a quizzical puppy. <Did master call me?> he “said” through a form of minor telepathy; the dragon’s physiology wasn’t fit for human languages, so it was fortunate that he had an alternative method of communication.

	“I’ve told you before,” Logan said, tiredly, “you don’t have to call me that. I’m nobody’s master.”

	<Oh, but I do, master,> the little dragon said, crossing his forelimbs into a more comfortable position, and flicking his lengthy tail about. <It’s tradition, after all, as I’m certain I’ve told master before.>

	Logan sighed. The very first time he had summoned Orion, early in his first year at the Academy, they formed an agreement … or contract … of sorts. Dragons of Orion’s diminutive stature, unfit for the usual draconic agenda of “stealing villages” and “ransacking fair maidens”, often followed more scholarly pursuits. 

It was common, in fact, for Orion’s particular species to hire themselves out to wizards so that they might visit and experience other realms and people. In return, he helped Logan with studying and advice, as well as the occasional game of chess. As such, Orion followed some established, centuries-long traditions, one of which was to address his employer as “master”.

“Whatever,” Logan said. “I have far too much to do … upcoming tests and all … I tell you, Orion, with all they want us to read, it’s almost as though they expect us to cheat.” He moved over to his desk and sorted through his stack of textbooks. Orion watched with quiet interest.

<Is not my presence… cheating?>

Logan made a strange face. “Of… course not. Don’t be silly.” Logan paused, then selected one of the parchments from his desk and placed it next to Orion. “Now, quiz me, please.”

Orion opened his jaws wide and hissed lightly – an expression that Logan had long known as the little dragon’s form of laughter. <How interesting! Are all humans so disobedient of rules?>

“I don’t think that’s one of the questions on the list,” Logan said, desperate to change the subject. “Besides, you’re more of a… tutor.” 

Although, it did briefly make him wonder, as he often did, how the other students could cope with the rules. The loneliness was the worst part… he hadn’t known ahead of time that their only real human contact would be with the hard-nosed and antisocial faculty.

<Very well,> Orion said, studying the parchment closely. <What school of wizardry is associated with the calling and summoning of agents from other realms?>

Logan sat down and slouched back in his chair. The little dragon really wasn’t going to let this go, was he? “Evocation,” he said. “Now, please, a real question this time.”

Orion’s tail flicked about as he continued to study the parchment. <What are the six major realms of magic?>

Logan sighed. “Please, Orion! I know those are on the list, but you could ask something a bit more advanced!” 

Logan stopped himself, realizing that he was almost shouting. He looked at the little dragon, who was tilting his head quizzically again, more curious than offended. “I’m… sorry. Really, I am. It’s been a rough day. Forget the questions for now.”

Orion watched on for a moment as the young student futilely tried to sort the papers on his desk, noticing that Logan was more concerned with feigning busywork than actually having any goal in mind. <They still haven’t taught master any magic, have they?>

“Is it that transparent?” Logan asked. “It’s not as though I don’t like learning about lore, or theory, or artifacts, or famous wizards, or whatever else. But it’s my second year. I had hoped they’d mention it by now.”

<Has master tried asking?> Orion inquired. <Knowledge is sometimes only bestowed to those who seek it.>

Logan snorted, shaking his head. “If only you knew the professors here. They get very cross if I ever say anything besides ‘Yes, sir,’ or ‘Right away, sir.’”

<Perhaps master should leave.>

Logan froze. He had worked so hard, and for so long to even get where he was now. If he left, he would be without money, and without useful skills. He highly doubted that there was much money in telling stories about the exploits of other famous wizards. “That’s… impossible, Orion,” he said. “Anyway, this is supposed to be a respectable institution. I’m sure they know what’s best for the students.”

Even as Logan said this, he wasn’t sure if he truly believed it. The odd rules and the coldness of the professors was at first unexpected, but it was also their prerogative as the ones in charge. Without Orion to keep him company, he surely would have gone mad by now.

It was all moot anyway. He had nowhere else to go, so that was that. He had to continue doing what he had been for the past year: Open the textbook, and read…

----------

	Logan awoke to a sharp knocking at the door, and he snapped upright. He had … apparently … fallen asleep at his desk while in the middle of studying – his face, neck, and back were sore from the awkward position.

	There was another series of knocks, accompanied by a stern, commanding voice, “Lad! Open up, lad!” It was one of his professors!

	Logan rose from his chair, and quickly glanced from the door to the rest of the room. Orion was still occupying his usual spot on the nightstand, his serpentine form comfortably curled up and sleeping peacefully, apparently undisturbed the noise.

	Even having just been woken, Logan’s wits were not so scrambled to forget that he was trying to keep a certain dragon hidden. “Orion, away!” he hissed, just barely louder than a whisper. Orion cocked an eye open, and in seconds, the little dragon turned to smoke and then dissipated entirely, returning to his own lands in the same manner that he had arrived.

	Logan hurriedly got to his feet and tried to straighten out his clothes in an effort to seem like he hadn’t fallen asleep at his desk. He unlocked and opened the door, revealing one of his teachers, an elderly, but fit man with a long white beard, by the name of Professor Rasaam.

	“Professor,” Logan said, trying to stand at some semblance of attention in spite of his clinging grogginess.

	Professor Rasaam didn’t seem to care. In his hand was a rolled-up piece of parchment, which he thrust under Logan’s nose. “No time for pleasantries, lad. You need to get started on this task right away. Come on, lad, take it.”

	What? Logan gingerly took the parchment, if only just to get it out of his face. “Task, sir? I don’t understand… What about my studies?”

	The old wizard didn’t appear to be in the mood for answering questions. “Your studies are postponed until you deal with this,” he said, impatiently. “Just read the note and follow it, lad. This comes from higher up than me.” With that, the elderly wizard turned and left Logan standing there, befuddled.

	Logan stared at the rolled paper in his hand. This had never happened before. It simply wasn’t the sort of school where students had “tasks”. “Well, let’s see what this is all about,” he muttered.

	The note, it turned out, was a glorified shopping list, directing him to go to the city and locate a shop called Queeni’s Herbs, where he was to buy a bag’s worth of reagents. Included in the note was a small, thin pouch with a few silver coins.

	Logan knew the city – he had lived there for a while, after all – and he also knew it was a long, half-day trek on foot from the Academy. Why on Earth was a student being asked to do this? Couldn’t they teleport by magic, or at least use someone with a horse? “Can’t they get their own reagents?” he grumbled.

	Yet, it was hardly something he could refuse to do … at least, not without putting his academic career into jeopardy. He made plans to quickly prepare the rations he needed, and then set out. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

----------

	The winter morning was cloudy and cold, and the roads were sparsely traveled. Although Logan’s stature wasn’t totally conducive for endurance travel, it wasn’t as though he was totally unfit either. At least his clothes were enchanted against cold weather… making him “chilly” instead of “hypothermic”.

	As soon as he felt it was safe to do so, he summoned Orion again. The little dragon took to the air immediately, flying lazy circles a few meters over Logan’s head. Evidently, he found the open air much more enjoyable than a cramped room.

	<This is the first time we have ever been outdoors together. Is master searching for a wizard to become apprenticed to?> Orion asked.

	“No, all the good wizards already have apprentices,” Logan said, and he went on to briefly recap the events of the morning. “I don’t know what to make of it, but the note was handed to me by a professor.”

	<A spell of illusion could give one human the appearance of another,> Orion suggested. <Suppose an evil wizard was pretending to be your professor.>

	“Maybe, but illusions are rarely perfect, aren’t they?” Logan said. He tried to consider if there were any physical irregularities in the man he spoke with earlier that day. “Rasaam looked just like he always does… unless he’s an illusion all the time.”

	<Mind control, then,> the dragon offered. He swooped down to hover in the airspace before Logan and waggled a claw. He said, as though commanding, <Take this note and deliver it to master.> 

	Logan didn’t slow his walking pace. “Mind control usually has obvious side effects: confusion, amnesia, clumsiness … Besides, I don’t think an accomplished wizard is a likely victim.”

	<Or if he is being mind-controlled all the time,> Orion said, and flapped his wings harder to regain his former altitude.

	“Unlikely,” Logan said.

	<Body control, then, like a puppet.>

	Logan stopped. He looked upwards to the dragon and spread his arms in a half-shrug. “What do you want me to do, Orion? I can’t just go back and start making wild accusations,” he said. “Whether I like it or not, that place is my only chance for me to make something of myself.”

	Orion flew down to where Logan stood, eventually slowing and landing on his employer’s shoulder, grasping hold with his tiny talons. The dragon’s soft, leathery tail brushed lightly, and quite warmly, against the back of Logan’s bare neck. <I want for master to be happy. If master is not pleased with his school, then he should seek another option.>

	Logan sighed as he stared at his employee’s adjacent muzzle. The dragon’s soft scales shone with a faint glimmer even in the clouded sunlight – a glimmer he hadn’t ever seen inside his room at the Academy. 

“I’ll think about it, okay? Now, come on. We have to keep moving if we want to make it to the city by evening.”

----------

	It was late afternoon by the time Logan arrived at the city. He had tried to keep his pace steady and conserve his energy, but still, he was sweating lightly and the flask of water he brought had run dry.

	Eagerly, he entered the first tavern he could find – probably not the fanciest he had ever seen, but serviceable and simple, and definitely a welcome sight after a day on the road. There were only a few patrons eating and drinking either alone, or while conversing quietly with a neighbor. There was still time yet before the rush for dinner.

	Logan took a seat at the bar as the barkeep – a muscled, bald-headed, middle-aged man – looked on at him, and nodded upward. “Ya look thirsty, lad. What’ll ya have?” he said, his tone of voice more gentle than his appearance.

	“A mug of small beer, please,” Logan said. Strictly speaking, he had no money of his own to spend, but he figured that the coins he received for his task covered personal expenses as well.

	The barkeep prepared the drink and exchanged it for a silver coin from Logan. With the mug in his hand, he couldn’t resist downing a mouthful of the cold, watered-down beer and sighing in relief.

	The barkeep was staring at him, apparently bemused. Logan felt self-conscious. “Uh… sir, I’m looking for an herbalist in the city, run by someone called Queeni – Queeni’s Herbs.”

	The elder man gave a short chuckle. “I was waiting for ye to ask directions to somewhere.” Then, he paused, thoughtful and frowning. He spoke slowly, “Queeni’s Herbs… Never heard o’ that one.”

	“Oh,” Logan said, disappointed. He wanted to get this over with and return to the Academy. He didn’t relish the thought of searching for this place for an extended amount of time.

	Or… if it doesn’t exist at all, he thought, recalling his earlier conversation with Orion.

	“Aw, don’t look so down, lad. I’m sure ye’ll find what yer lookin’ for,” the barkeep said, giving Logan a hearty pat on the shoulder.

	“Yes, of course. Thank you,” Logan said, if only so he could be left to his drink.

	After resting his feet for some minutes and polishing off his mug, Logan stood… and immediately collided with someone walking by. He stumbled, caught himself on the bar, and looked at the poor soul he had just rammed into.

	However, “poor soul” might not have been the correct description. Looking down at him, barely moved by the collision, was a young woman, maybe early or mid 20’s – with brunette hair down past her shoulders, and a stern, serious face. But she was also lean, physically fit, clad in a light chainmail shirt, bundled in leather armor, cloth, padding, and gloves for the weather. More to the point, she had both a small shield strapped to her upper arm and a large weapon strapped to her back. Logan’s blood froze – he had just rammed into a warrior!

	“Uh… S-sorry,” he mumbled, trying to inch toward the exit.

	The warrior furrowed her eyebrows at him; Logan couldn’t tell if it was due to scrutiny, annoyance… or anger. Honestly, he didn’t want to wait around to find out. “You…?” she muttered, apparently a question.

	“Sorry,” Logan said again, and moved quickly to the door. It felt like his heart had sped up to its maximum in three seconds – he felt like he was a moment away from getting throttled to death over a minor accident.

	“Hold on… Stop!” the warrior commanded him gruffly.

Logan, predictably, had no intent of stopping.

----------

	Orion was gliding lazy circles high above the rooftops, watching all the men and women milling about in the streets and going about their various evening activities. Although Logan had told him about human cities, and Orion had, of course, read about them in books, it was quite another thing to see one for real, and from high above.

	The dragon circled back around to the building Logan had entered – just in time to see his employer stumble out the door, looking to his sides, and then to the sky furtively. Logan seemed to spot Orion in the air, hesitated, an then ran into the nearest alleyway between buildings. 

Out of the tavern came another human – one with long hair and wearing warrior gear, and shouting various things such as, “Wait!” and “Stop!” as she ran after Logan.

Orion descended and landed discreetly on the tavern’s rooftop to watch the events unfold, unnoticed. They had both stopped running by this time – Logan, probably not wishing to make a scene nor have a sprinting contest with a warrior, had turned to face his assailant, who had similarly stopped. They both seemed to be frozen in place, wondering what the first action of the other would be.

	Logan seemed to afraid of this person. Orion did not want to see his employer get hurt… and yet, was that a true concern here? The woman chasing him had a weapon on her back, yes, but it was not drawn. She was reaching out with a gloved hand, open-palmed.

	<Master must calm himself,> Orion said telepathically, directed privately to Logan. <If this person becomes dangerous, I will help master escape.> Secretly, Orion hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. He was but a small dragon, and it was a great risk trying to fight something that could strangle you with one hand. 

Nevertheless, this gave Logan some confidence. He shouted out, “Stay back! Who are you? What do you want with me?”

	The other human curled her hand into a fist and stood a little straighter before answering. “I am Abigail Delcross, Paladin of the Sapphire Knights’ Fifth Division. I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop running.”

	It was quite a long name, Orion thought. How could she expect anyone else to say all of that each time they wanted to address her?

	“Yeah?” Logan asked. “And why should I… stop running?”

	The female human seemed impatient. She took a step forward and put her hand out again, to which Logan replied by taking a step back. “You… bumped into me,” she said, as though confessing to a terrible crime. “I need to take you into protective custody.”

	“I already said I was sorry!” Logan exclaimed.

	“Kid, I don’t care about that,” Abigail said, rapidly becoming frustrated. “This is really no time to explain … because you bumped into me … Look, we need to get off the street.”

	Logan was just shaking his head. He seemed about to say something, but he paused, looking past Abigail. Orion had been so entranced by what he was seeing that he totally missed the entrance of a group of three men into the alleyway, all with a sense of purpose. 

They all wore thick tunics and cloaks for the cold weather, but one man – the one in the middle – stood out with his particularly slender frame, and wild, shoulder-length black hair. The other two were older, and quite a bit more muscled, like dock workers or blacksmiths, armed with a cudgel apiece.

	Orion looked on with fascination. Abigail turned around, and everyone stared at each other for a long, tense moment. 

	Finally, the mysterious younger man was first to speak. He cleared his throat and said loudly. “Logan! I’ve been looking all over the city for you! How are you this fine evening? Shall we talk over a drink?”

	Logan, already defensive and on edge, didn’t move an inch. “Do I… know you?” he asked.

	 The black-haired man smiled. “You can call me Raven. We’re schoolmates, you and I. We’ve not ever met formally, but that’s understandable considering the people in charge over there, yes?”

	“I guess,” Logan replied, with zero enthusiasm. 

	Raven chuckled. “You’re quite the model student, Logan, and that’s why we need you. But, uh, as you may understand, my words are for wizard ears only.” He glared at Abigail as he said this, perceiving her as an unwanted stranger.

	Logan started to say something, maybe to agree. But the paladin interrupted. “I’m his bodyguard,” she said.

	Logan was visibly shocked, but he tried quickly to regain his composure. When she said ‘protective custody’, it was no jest… and Logan wasn’t dumb enough to throw an advantage away. “Right,” he said. “You seem to have two bodyguards of your own. So she’s mine.”

	The two thuggish-looking men seemed impassive about this, but Raven appeared to be irritated. It occurred to Orion that Logan was not the only one who needed to improvise in this unusual situation. “Whatever, Logan. It’s not important. What is important is that I’d like to extend an invitation to you … You haven’t been taught any real magic yet, correct?”

	“I’m sure they’ll teach me when I’m ready,” Logan said carefully.

	“Admirably optimistic, Logan, but do you really believe that?” The question seemed rhetorical, for Raven continued seamlessly, “I’m the leader of a group of other disillusioned students – students like you and me. Good, capable students. Students who deserve to learn how to light a candle or heal a paper cut with magic. We’re going to ‘request’ that we be properly compensated for the tuition we paid. It’d be an honor to have someone with your … work ethic … join us.”

	Logan put on a straight face as he pondered this, but Orion knew better than to think that his employer wasn’t stressed out by all of this. Books and independent study he could handle, but not mysterious strangers, even if this stranger seemed to know exactly what had been troubling Logan recently. <Master should not be rushed into a decision,> the dragon advised.

	Logan asked, “And if I decline your… invitation?”

	Raven sighed and looked skyward for a few seconds, and then straight ahead once more. “You would be throwing away the biggest opportunity of your life, Logan.”

	Orion was intrigued. Logan, obviously, wanted to learn wizardry and had expressed disappointment at how long it was taking to be instructed in most the basic of cantrips at the Academy. And yet…

	And yet, Orion didn’t know all human customs, but he didn’t think genuine business proposals were made with urgency in dark alleyways. 

	Logan evidently agreed. ”Yes, well, I’m going to have to ‘throw away the biggest opportunity of my life’, then. So if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way…”

	Raven didn’t answer at first, but from Orion’s perch, he could see the man’s smile turn into a scowl. “That’s a pity, Logan, because I really can’t let you leave…” Lowering his voice just a bit, he commanded the henchmen at his sides. “I need him alive, but break his legs if you need to. If that woman gets in your way, deal with her.”

	One of the men objected. “That’s a warrior. You didn’t say nothin’ about a fair fight…”

	“Then I’ll double your fee,” Raven hissed. “Deal with it.”

	As the thugs stepped forward, Abigail already had her small shield in one hand and her weapon in the other, unsheathed. It was an exotic weapon, like a cross between an axe and a spear, but not long enough to be a polearm. Orion wished he could see it in more detail.

	“Can you fight?” she called back to Logan.

	“W- What?” Logan stammered.

	“CAN. YOU. FIGHT?” she shouted, then sighed in disgust, guessing the answer already. “Whatever. Just stay back, kid.”

	A battle started immediately… if one could even call it that. Raven and Logan remained where they were as the two henchmen and Abigail engaged each other. The pair tried to utilize their number advantage against the lone warrior, but Abigail would have none of it, staying agile and circling to force her opponents to trip over each other. 

Frustrated, one of them finally rushed forward and swung at head level. Abigail ducked the clumsy, telegraphed attack and countered with a massive, body-twisting swing of her axe. The reinforced, heavy end of the haft slammed into the back of the man’s skull. He was unconscious before his face hit the ground.

	The other man tried to capitalize on Abigail’s distraction, moving in for a two-handed, downward strike. Abigail, even facing the other direction, appeared to anticipate this, sliding out of the way just in time and bashing her shield against the man’s head in one smooth motion, causing him to reel in pain.

	 Again they faced off. The thug, wobbling like a drunk, opted to make another clumsy attack, missing as Abigail “dodged” by standing in place. Another brutal swing of her axe caught him on the jaw, dropping him as well.

	Raven watched the scene unfold, chewing his lower lip. “Nobody ever said you had a girlfriend, Logan,” he said. “I’ll be back, and you won’t be so … lucky … next time.” He turned on his heels and retreated, ducking behind another building and out of sight – even from Orion’s overhead view.

	 Abigail didn’t follow. Instead, she set about collecting the sheath for her axe and replacing her gear back to their usual holding spots. She turned back to Logan, who hadn’t moved an inch during this entire ordeal.

	“You… You knocked them out!” Logan exclaimed.

	The paladin managed a half-shrug as she strapped her small shield back to her upper arm. “They make me do too much paperwork if I kill in the city, but more importantly, I don’t like getting blood on my axe,” she said dryly, and continued before Logan could speak again. “Will you follow me now, or am I gonna have to drag you?”

	Logan seemed about to object, thought better of it, and followed Abigail out of the cold, dark alley.

----------

	The two of them found a room at a cheap inn – the single, tiny bed it contained was no doubt completely unusable due to vermin infestation, and the shoddy walls did almost nothing to keep the cold night air outside. But at least the room provided them with lantern light and a safe place to talk.

	First, Logan wanted to discuss the recent events with Orion. It was a simple thing to allow Orion to fly in through the open window and perch on Logan’s shoulder, and it was equally simple deception to pass the dragon off as a wizard’s (or “student wizard’s”) familiar. Abigail stared at the dragon warily for a long moment, but raised no objection.

	As long as Logan kept his voice very low, they had a chance to talk privately as Abigail set to maintaining her warrior gear. 

“How did we end up like this, Orion?” he asked, less a true question and more thinking out loud. “Just last night, the only thing I cared about was studying for my next test. And now what? It seems like everyone in the city knows exactly who I am…”

	<It is quite thrilling, master,> Orion agreed. <An adventure like the famous magi of old, and before you’ve learned a single cantrip.>

	“I don’t remember any of the famous wizards getting kidnapped and hauled around by their ears,” Logan said skeptically.

	<What better way to learn about the world than for master to be thrust into unknown territory?>

Logan furrowed his brow at this. He was well aware that his future career might see him in dangerous situations, but he was only a student for now. And he was quite sure that Orion realized this as well. “Just whose side are you on, you little scamp?” he said, but playfully, knowing the dragon meant no harm. 

	<On master’s side, of course. I only think master should try to stay optimistic.>

	Logan wanted to. He really, really wanted to. But the effort only made him give a long and weary sigh. “I’m just not ready for this yet, Orion. Right now, I only want to get back to the Academy in one piece.”

	<As master wishes. Although master may have to convince her.> 

	Logan stole a glance at Abigail. She was sitting against the far wall, focused in her toil as she drew a whetstone slowly across the blade of her axe. 

The axe… it was quite an attention-grabber. Outside of its protective leather “sheath”, it looked less like any typical axe Logan had ever seen in a book, and more like a downsized, one-handed version of a halberd, with both a curved chopping blade and a narrow spear point at the end of its haft. And the haft was more than just wood. It was reinforced with metal and leather, likely for sturdiness and a better grip.

Logan went back to staring at his own wall. “What do you make of her, anyway? I accidentally bumped into her in that tavern, and now I can’t get rid of her. I barely even know who she is.”

<The weapon she carries is very unique, is it not? She must be very confident to use it in a fight.>

“Don’t change the subject,” Logan chided.

<I am not. An ordinary warrior would use an ordinary weapon, but she does not. I think master can trust her.>

Logan wasn’t entirely convinced. On the other hand, she did seem intent on protecting him… but why? Albeit, with this … “fellow student” … after his head, it was nice to have any ally he could get.

“Say, do you think Raven wrote that note that got me here in the first place?” Logan asked, but he knew Orion would just agree with him. “Damn it. I’m miles away from where I should be, and for what? Nothing. No reason at all.”

<Does master know who the Raven human is?>

	Logan clasped his hands together in thought. “No… Well, maybe. I see a lot of other students at the Academy, even if we’re forbidden to converse.” He paused to sigh. “Look, it doesn’t really matter. I don’t know why that lunatic is after me, but it’d be safest if I got back to the Academy as soon as possible.”

Logan looked at Abigail again, who was still attending to her work and blithely ignoring him. He approached her, and, trying to muster some command and importance into his voice, he said, “Right, well, thanks for your help, Miss… whoever you are, but I have places to be. I’ll be leaving now…”

The paladin stopped her work and looked up, leaning back against the wall. “No. You aren’t,” she said. When it came to command, she had him beat.

This was going to be more difficult than he had expected. Intimidated, he could only stammer, “Then… I…  I at least deserve to know why you insist on keeping me against my will!”

“I wanted to tell you, but you kept running away,” Abigail said gratingly.

“I’m here now, so talk, won’t you?” Logan said.

Abigail stared up at Logan for a moment. At last, she set her axe and whetstone down. “I had a dream about you… I mean, I didn’t know it was you. In the dream, I was walking through a tavern, and someone stood up and rammed into me.” 

She snorted, as though in irritation. “I’ve been in and out of taverns all day, waiting for someone to bump into me. Now that I’ve found you, there’s no way in the nine hells that I’m just going to just let you go.”

“Oh, okay,” Logan said, nodding slowly in apparent understanding. “So, you had a hallucination where someone nudges you in a tavern – places where loads of people go to get drunk and stagger around. So you’ve been going to taverns all day.” For a few additional seconds, Logan continued nodding without speaking, then said, “Are you out of your mind? In the realm of the sane, that’s a self-fulfilling prophecy if I’ve ever heard one.”

Abigail wordlessly glowered at Logan. <Is it right for master to antagonize her?> Orion wondered aloud.

“Who was that Raven guy?” Abigail asked pointedly. “He seemed to have it in for you.”

“I don’t see what that –“ Logan started to say, but Abigail wasn’t expecting an answer.

“I’m a paladin, kid. Do you know what that means? We’re demon-hunters. We seek and destroy evil… preferably before it has a chance to strike. The good gods we serve don’t just sit back and relax – they help us out… with dreams and prophetic visions to guide us.”

“Then you’ve got the wrong person,” Logan insisted. “I have no dealings with any of that.”

“Wake up, kid,” Abigail said. “It’s not you that I’m concerned about, but you’re linked to something big. Your ‘friend’ wanted to invite you to something… some kind of group… probably a cult. The gods obviously want me to investigate.” She leaned forward, as though to whisper directly into his face, “I don’t make a habit of disappointing them.”

Logan spread his arms out. “Fine, so investigate them. I don’t care. But I need to get back to the Wizards’ Academy. I have work and studies to get back to!”

“To be perfectly blunt, kid, my work is more important than yours,” Abigail said. “Besides, he’s going to come after you again.” She paused to smirk. “Without me, you won’t last even a minute…”

Arguing with her was like arguing with a stone wall, Logan thought. He supposed that he could stand here all night, and gain naught but lost sleep for his efforts. But… maybe that was because she was right? For a reason he didn’t know, he was being singled out and hunted. For his own safety, maybe he had to play along.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll accept what you say, but only because that madman is after me.”

Abigail just shrugged. “Your reason doesn’t matter to me, kid. Just get some sleep. We aren’t doing anything until morning.”

Logan wordlessly returned to his corner; the bed would be more comfortable, but he could do without the fleas. Orion quietly took to the air and flapped his wings, drifting to the ground slowly as his employer tried his best to curl up and get comfortable on the hard wooden floor.

“Mattress of kings,” Logan muttered sarcastically. “This’ll be a fun night. Do you want me to unsummon you?”

<I do not mind the cold, nor the floor,> Orion replied.

“I envy you,” Logan said, more in appreciation than unkindness.

While the minor enchantments on his clothes would keep at least somewhat warm, but they wouldn’t stop him from being sore in the morning. Perhaps to his only real – and ironic – benefit, the physical and mental stresses of the day were heavy. He was exhausted to a point that sleep would come rapidly, regardless of its quality.

But… there was so much on his mind. So much that he couldn’t simply forget.

“I’m… scared, Orion.” Logan whispered, sleepily.

<Master?>

“I’ve been trying to stay tough and keep a straight face … but I can’t keep it up. That man out there … he wanted to treat me like an object. I’ve got an ‘ally’ here who only … sees me as a means to an end. And it sounds like I might even be a … plaything … of the gods themselves…”

<I am master’s ally,> Orion said.

“I mean no offense, Orion, but I don’t think Raven even knows you exist. You can fly away … or hide on rooftops … or even teleport back to your own realm. You can probably … disappear anytime you want.”

<I am master’s ally,> Orion repeated.

There was a long pause before Logan spoke again. “My thanks… but it… it doesn’t change…” he whispered, trailing off, more softly now. Even though his mind was racing, he found himself exhausted.

Orion waited hear the rest, but Logan didn’t continue. <Doesn’t change what?> the dragon prompted.

“… That I can’t shake the feeling … that … something terrible might happen tomorrow,” Logan finished, barely audible.

Orion pondered this, trying to find the correct words of comfort to say… and while doing so, became aware that Logan had already fallen asleep. It was too late to say anything now – at least, not if he wanted his employer to actually hear it. 

Still, it didn’t seem right to say nothing.

<Sleep well… Logan.>

----------

“Is this what you’ve been planning all night? Tell me you’re jesting.”

 It was morning. Abigail had brought up a meal for all of them, and after eating, they wasted no time getting back to arguing… all while Orion watched, curiously and mostly-silently from the table, of course. The lantern was pleasantly warm.

Orion thought he had the situation figured out. Abigail was concerned only with her duty and faith in the divine, but Logan’s trust in the same was threadbare at best. Yes, Logan was still grateful for the timely rescue the previous evening, but his patience was becoming strained by the paladin’s insistence that she have total discretion on their next move.

	“I am not,” Abigail answered flatly. “It is my duty to find out what this … Raven … is planning, and to stop him, if necessary. The best way to do that is to lure him into the open as soon as possible. The longer we sit around, the more time he has to prepare and gain power.”

	Logan, who had been in the process of pacing around the room, stopped. “See, that’s where we have a problem. You’re so infatuated with ‘smiting evil’ that you’re going to get both of us killed.”

	“I have faith that the good gods will see my efforts through!” Abigail shot back. “I didn’t sign up for this yesterday, kid.”

	Logan shook his head in disgust and resumed pacing. He looked at Orion, silently raising his eyebrows. The dragon took this to mean a request for advice.

	<I believe that she is trustworthy,> Orion said to Logan.

	Logan repeated his questioning facial gesture. Orion explained, <Even if master disagrees with her methods, I do not believe she would suggest a plan if it would imperil her own life.>

	Abruptly, Logan stopped walking again, and said aloud, “I don’t like how you’re only thinking about yourself. They’re after me, you know? Your plan isn’t very good if it ends with me dead… or worse.”

	<That is not what I meant,> Orion said disapprovingly.

	“If I let you to run off on your own, he’ll definitely capture you,” Abigail said deliberately, as though trying to teach a complicated topic to a slow child. “The gods will not allow me, or anyone under my protection, to come to harm in the course of my duty.”

	Logan sighed and turned away, rubbing his face and eyes slowly, and running his fingers through his hair a few times. This entire misadventure had started with him being forced into leaving the safety of the Academy, and it seemed like ever since then, he was forced to do one thing or another … powerless to influence events as they unfolded around him.

	He just wanted to return to the Academy. He wanted to learn magic. He wanted to get back to a life where, if he worked and studied hard, he might actually have some control over his own destiny… even for something as minor as his next test grade. There seemed to be no opportunity for that here.

	All but resigned to his helplessness, Logan said, in somewhat meek desperation, “Don’t you have friends? Comrades? Other people you can ask for advice? Other paladins that can help with this?”

	“I have full authority to take whatever actions I deem necessary in the field. I do not need to ask for ‘advice’.” Abigail said sharply. It was a few moments more before she completed her answer, in a more subdued tone. “My order-mates… are all out on assignment. I was to leave with them yester-morning, but my dream – my divine vision – had greater priority, they said.”

	Abigail crossed her arms and looked to the floor, putting Logan at a loss for reply. He had run out of arguments – or at least, ones that hadn’t yet been stonewalled by the resident paladin. Imperfect though the situation was, there seemed to be no other way…

	“When do we… When do we leave?” He muttered.

	Abigail looked up, scrutinizing him for a short moment. “Right now,” she said.

----------

	Logan opened the window for Orion to fly out. “Stay safe, but keep an eye out if you can, okay?” Logan said.

	<Of course, master,> the dragon said, and took to the air.

	Abigail and Logan left through the front door of the inn slowly, expecting the worst. The paladin stepped into the chilly outdoors first, her axe and shield in her hands, surveying the streets.

	“I don’t see anyone suspicious, but it doesn’t mean we aren’t being watched right now,” she muttered to Logan. “Raven was urgent about getting to you. He didn’t want to let you go.”

	“So?” Logan asked.

	“So, with us out in the open, they’re not going to waste any time. They’ll attack as soon as possible, which also means they’re not going to let you out of sight,” Abigail explained.

	“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan muttered.

	“Shut up, kid.”

	They set out, trying to behave naturally – that is, with a steady pace, but not without expectation of trouble. Abigail kept her weapon unsheathed and in hand, causing the pedestrians on the street to stare nervously and give them a wide berth. Logan stared, too… with suspicion, back at anyone who could possibly be one of Raven’s agents. 

The problem was that he knew full well that a wizard didn’t necessarily require any weapons or tools in order to use magic. Wands and staves could be helpful, but were usually associated with more advanced practitioners. A “disillusioned student” could be anyone, and look like anything.

<Master is going to make his neck sore if he continues to rotate it that much,> Orion scolded him from high above, but his tone was an amused one.

Logan and Abigail continued to make their way through the city streets without incident. Maybe Raven changed his mind, Logan dared to think. Maybe I’m more trouble than I’m worth.

“Obviously, they’re not going to risk daytime violence within the city limits,” Abigail commented out loud, apparently reading his thoughts. “Be ready… soon after we leave the gates…”

“That’s really encouraging,” Logan said sarcastically. “Why are we walking right into their trap, again?”

“We’ve been through this, kid. We’re forcing them to act too hastily.”

They walked through the eastern gates, ostensibly with the intent to take Logan back to the Magic Academy. It was a chess move, and a gamble. Logan was surprised by his calmness in spite of all that was happening, but now … now his heart was pounding. The region was heavily forested… there were so many placed to hide.

<Master, there are humans trying to hide amongst the trees,> Orion reported.

That was not something he wanted to hear.

“Stop,” Abigail hissed, pressing her gloved shield-hand against Logan’s chest. He didn’t think that Abigail was privy to Orion’s warning… either she saw something, or could somehow sense the danger.

Logan wished he could do that.

Figures began to appear from behind leafless tree trunks on the roadside, quite obviously focused on moving toward the pair. They were a collection of young men, some women, all young adult in age and wearing ordinary clothes with hoods – but no weapons or armor.

Logan and Abigail stood back-to-back as they watched themselves become widely surrounded by the sinister group, eleven in number. Abigail flourished her axe, but the act elicited no response. Unlike her past opponents, these weren’t nervous… or at least, they didn’t show it.

One of the figures removed his hood. Logan recognized him…

“Logan!” Raven called out. “You’re quite bold to come out of hiding so quickly.” He nodded toward Abigail, but directed the question toward Logan, “I take it you’re still not going to play nicely?”

Suddenly, Logan realized something. The two thugs that Abigail had knocked out last night were within her element: fighters, weapon-users… even if not very good ones. These people that were engaging them now were weaponless… because they didn’t need weapons.

Maybe they were still students, but they had to know at least some kind of combative spell in order to be so confident. Abigail was a skilled fighter, no doubt, but did she know what she was dealing with? Did she know that her armor and agility were worthless if even one of the wizards – of which there were many – could get close enough to use their spells?

Logan tried to put on the best act that he could. “Actually, I’d love to join you now, but she’s been keeping me as a prisoner!” Logan shouted, pointing at Abigail and backing away rapidly. Two of Raven’s group grabbed Logan’s arms when he got close to them, but he didn’t resist.

“What?” Abigail whirled her head in surprise, but just as quickly gritted her teeth and turned back to her former orientation.

Raven crossed his arms and stroked his chin with a hand, wondering what to make of this. “That’s… unexpected,” he said, somewhat to himself. He spoke again, louder, directed toward Abigail. “Well then, as for you, ‘bodyguard’, guess he doesn’t need you anymore. Disable her!”

Raven’s subordinates closed in on Abigail from all directions, keeping their distance at first, wary of the range of the paladin’s axe. Although terribly outnumbered, she showed no sign of fear as she turned in place, sizing up every one of her opponents, looking for the best target to strike first…

When Abigail struck, it was sudden and instantaneous – a long-range stab with the spear-tip of her axe that pierced a wizard – one who was only a half-step too close – in the stomach, sending him to the ground. Her thrusting attack transitioned smoothly into a wide swing with the bloodied weapon, but sliced only air as everyone else dodged back.

Or, almost everyone. One of the more daring wizards rushed toward her and pushed his palm against Abigail’s shoulder. She grunted and convulsed, evidently in more pain than such a light slap would be likely to inflict, and the axe fell from her grip.

She countered with a massive shield bash, landing squarely on the attacker’s nose and sending him reeling. But the small success, and Abigail’s sudden disarmament encouraged others to rush forward and use their own spells. She fell to the ground, onto her back, in pained convulsions… until her assaulters were satisfied that she wasn’t getting up.

Logan watched all of this happen, and he suddenly felt ill. It wasn’t as though he could have done anything, but… he realized now that, although she was serving her own agenda, Abigail was acting as his protector as well. Was he… worthy to be the recipient of such loyalty?

Raven sauntered to Abigail’s prone form, tsking, and pointed at her. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he said. “You called yourself a bodyguard, but you’re a little too skilled … and loyal … for a student’s budget, and you still fought when Logan ditched you. You’re a paladin, aren’t you?”

Abigail stared back at him, still shivering and convulsing slightly from the effects of the multiple spells she had been hit with. Yet, her face was not angry as Logan expected. On quite the contrary, she looked scared… and confused – far from what Logan could have ever predicted.

“Well, I’m sure your gods will be very proud that you’ve cost us some coin in healing fees,” Raven continued snidely. Then, in response to a moan from the subordinate she had impaled with the spear-tip, he shouted, “Oh, suck it up!”

Raven then turned to Logan, who hadn’t moved an inch during this time. “As for you, Logan, you say you want to join us now?” He stopped, looked off to the side, and seemed to suppress a chuckle. “You must forgive me if I’m wrong, but that sounds absolutely ridiculous in the wake of last night.”

“But it’s true!” Logan insisted, quite untruthfully. “I just needed more time to realize my mistake!”

Raven smiled and pursed his lips. “Quite honestly, I just don’t believe you.” Then, he said to the pair of wizards at Logan’s side, “Put him to sleep.”

“Put me –“ was all Logan managed to say before he was wrought with sudden, overwhelming agony, as though his entire body had just been covered in lamp oil and set alight.

He fell to his knees immediately, involuntarily twitching and clutching at himself. He wanted to cry out – to scream as loud as he could in the hope that it might bring relief or distract him from what he was feeling… but he couldn’t even breathe. The only thing he heard was his own sick gurgling and choking as his vocal cords tried uselessly to make sound without airflow.

<Master, you must unsummon me immediately,> Orion said.

 Yes … Orion … he could stay calm in the face of danger. Slowly, Logan felt the spell wearing off, and the worst of it beginning to wane. Although he was still doubled over, he managed to wheeze out a breath and hoarsely draw a new lungful of air in. 

“Ori-aaaaahhhh…” Logan tried, but he was still in more pain now than ever before in his life. His thoughts were so far from the dragon right now. All he could really do was wonder why… why these people had to use such a spell as this for putting him to “sleep”. Surely there were more simple, more direct charms that would be…

“Hit him again,” Raven said, without emotion.

“GAAAAH!” Logan screamed as convulsions wracked his body and his face hit the ground. Tears were streaming from his eyes, and his hands clawed at his sides – seemingly of their own accord – apparently with the goal of ripping out his own guts, as though that would prevent his pain.

Terrible as this was, Logan became aware of something else. He was becoming lightheaded, and his vision, hearing, and touch … were all becoming fainter. Darkness was swallowing him head-first. Calming, painless darkness…

<Master, you must unsummon me immediately!> the dragon’s words were more urgent this time, but for what? How would that make the pain go away?

He knew he was losing himself. The darkness – blacking out – it felt so good... so preferable. Who wouldn’t rather be dead than on fire? All he had to do was accept it, and it would come… and take him over. Then he would feel nothing at all…

<LOGAN, YOU MUST UNSUMMON ME, NOW!> The words were painted like an uncontrollable conflagration in Logan’s inky, hazy, smoky mind.

Why did he have to do anything when it was so much easier to do nothing?

Fine… but how bothersome.

“O…ri…on…” he whispered between shaky, rapid breaths. “A……way.”

----------

Logan was flying.

It was okay that he was flying, because he had wings. It was so easy; all he had to do was keep his wings spread, and his lightweight, streamlined body simply glided freely through the wide open air.

There was something flying alongside him. Or someone. It was a dragon: serpentine, with gold scales. Logan thought he recognized the dragon.

<Orion? Is that you?> Logan asked. His mouth moved, and he heard his own voice, but it sounded… odd, as though he was speaking directly into his own ears.

The dragon looked back at Logan. <Hello, master. How may I help you?>

Logan remained quiet. He concentrated on flying – not that he needed to, of course. With his wings outstretched, it was difficult to not stay in the air. Sure, he could tilt his body and manipulate his tail to turn in different directions, but otherwise…

Wait … Tail?

<Orion, what’s going on? How am I flying?> Logan asked.

<It is unusual. Humans do not often fly,> Orion agreed. 

Logan frowned at the evasive answer. Curiously, he looked down at his hands… and was shocked by what he saw. His hands were small, taloned, and covered in gold scales. His arms, and the rest of his body… likewise scaled and gold.

<Orion, am I a… dragon?> Logan asked.

<Is it not a good thing?> Orion replied. <Master once said that he envied me … envied dragons.>

Logan remembered. He said what he did because it was a cold night on a hard floor; Orion wasn’t bothered at all by an environment highly uncomfortable for humans, or at least for Logan, if not Abigail.

But, he realized, it went deeper than that. He envied Orion’s position. He envied that Orion was carefree. He envied that Orion wasn’t the one being hunted by Raven. He envied that Orion could simply end his contract and go home any time he wanted.

<But I care about you, Logan,> Orion said softly.

Logan was stunned. He turned to look at Orion again, seeing that the dragon was once again facing forward, wings outstretched, just gliding through the air.

Seeing Orion like this caused Logan to suddenly have a strange feeling… cold, and resolute. There was something he needed to do – something that he perhaps should have done a long time ago… even if he didn’t understand why.

Logan swallowed hard… and furled his wings.

As he rapidly plummeted, and as the ground sped toward him, the world turned black.

----------

“Wake up, Logan. We have work to do.”

Logan felt terrible. His entire body was incredibly sore, and his throat was as dry as sand in the desert. He could still feel it … the lingering effects of the pain spell, or whatever it was, still clawing at him, eating at him on the inside. He had much preferred being unconscious.

Logan opened his eyes and tried to assess his situation. He was on a wooden chair in the middle of a dark, torch-lit room with stone walls… a dungeon, perhaps – used by Raven’s group as a hideout? His arms and ankles were bound securely with loops of thin rope to the chair he was on. Worst of all, Raven was standing in front of him, leaning down and slapping Logan’s face lightly.

Raven smirked and stood up straight. “Atta boy, Logan. You’re no good to me dead.”

“Why are you… doing this to me?” Logan asked hoarsely.

“What, all the theatrics back there?” Raven asked as he turned to walk away. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw him picking up a bucket and ladle. “When you’re decide what spell to commit your attention to, wouldn’t you pick something with multiple uses? Temporarily cripple any living creature in an instant… and with enough power, make them black out from the pain. Brutal, sure, but also versatile, don’t you think?”

Raven brought the bucket over and put the water-filled ladle in front of Logan’s lips. “Drink,” he commanded. “I’m not heartless, Logan. Just pragmatic.”

Logan considered refusing. He remembered his dream, and a wild thought entered his mind. That, subconsciously, he’d rather die than be abused in this manner. Was that the dream’s message?

But he was scared, too. He didn’t want to die yet. Not here. Not now.

He drank the water – gulping it down until the bucket was emptied. It was a meager reparation for what he had just been through, but at least it soothed his parched throat.

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan said, still weak, but speaking more clearly now. “I know it was you who penned the note that forced me out of the Academy. You’ve been after me ever since. Why?”

At first, Raven seemed more interested in his own work, carefully affixing a ring with a large gemstone onto his finger. But he was listening; he tsked at the question. “You aren’t exactly in a position to interrogate me, Logan. You had your chance to join me, and you declined,” he said, very matter-of-factly.

A thought struck Logan’s mind. This wasn’t Abigail – the unmovable brick wall – he was arguing with. Perhaps there was something he could say to change Raven’s mind. But what? Raven was a wizard, and a self-described pragmatist. Maybe he could work off of that? Saying, “Because I deserve to know,” certainly wouldn’t work.

“Your methods are awful,” Logan blurted, surprising even himself. “Think about it from my perspective. How could you ever expect me to help if you’re going to be so cryptic?” He allowed Raven a half-moment to think about it, before adding, “Whatever you need me for, it could probably be made much easier if it wasn’t against my will.”

Raven cocked an eyebrow at his prisoner’s boldness, but he appeared to seriously consider the words. “You’re right about that. I suppose there’s no harm in telling you … What are you going to do, escape?”

They met eyes and stared at each other. Raven had asked it like it was a joke, but Logan remained emotionless..

“Allow me to make your position clear, so you don’t do anything stupid,” Raven said. “Supposing you don’t like what I tell you, it would be foolhardy to attempt an escape or try to stop me. I’ve seen you fight, which is to say, you can’t. Keep that in mind, okay?”

Raven put his hands behind his back and began to pace. “Now then, you are aware of the tyranny that goes on in that damned Academy. Some of us have been there for months, and months, and months, slaving away over the most inane of books and tomes, deprived of all contact from our peers. And what do we have to show for it?”

He stopped and turned to Logan, gesturing angrily. “Nothing! Not even a single spell! They lied to us, Logan. They said they’d teach us magic – make wizards out of us. And by the way you’ve repeatedly failed to demonstrate any magic yourself, I think you know all about this firsthand.

“We started out as a small group, but we’ve recruited another member every week. We purchased a basic spellbook from what you might call … illicit sources. You’ve even experienced one of our most favorite spells. We have the capability, and the Academy was foolish to deny us what we deserved for so long.”

Logan found himself sympathetic, within reason. They had a right to expect to actually learn magic from a Magic Academy. Even though he himself didn’t mind the delay, it was, in the end, a matter personal opinion. They provided him with food and a room, and all told, he had good aptitude for even the ‘boring’ work. 

Raven resumed pacing. “But it is an Academy for magic, after all. In their archives, they have the spellbooks we want, even if they’re not willing to share. All we plan to do… is take what is rightfully ours.”

“You want to steal their books,” Logan said. “But they’d never let you get away with it…”

Raven stopped again, and turned to face Logan. This time, there was a smugness to his smile, and an evil glint in his eyes. “Very good, Logan. That’s why we plan for ‘them’ to be … indisposed … before we move in.”

Logan felt a chill run through his entire body. The word, “indisposed”, couldn’t mean anything good for a group that equated “putting someone to sleep” with “making them black out from pain”.

“What are you going to do to them?” Logan asked.

Raven waved the question away. “Details, Logan. The one book we do have carries a lot of options with it. A few of us want to summon a demon that will reduce the place to rubble. I, myself, have been pushing for a virulent, swift-killing disease. It’d be much more discreet and cause less collateral damage that way, don’t you think?”

Logan kept his face as straight as possible, but within, he was aghast. Demons? Diseases? Collateral damage? How could he suggest these things so calmly? He couldn’t even imagine… all of his instructors, along with all of the innocent students with no stake in this…

“And you needed to kidnap me… why?” Logan prodded, trying to keep his voice unconcerned and steady.

Raven’s smug smile turned to a pitying one. “You really don’t know, do you?” he asked. “Magical energy, mana, potential, capacity … call it what you want. The important part is, you’re different from the rest of us… better. Even without training and experience, you have more of the stuff within you than even some of the best of all time. You’re like a … giant bottle of lantern oil.”

Logan didn’t understand. Sure, he knew that talent for wizardry differed between individuals, and he knew that he had enough talent to make perusal of wizardry worthwhile, but this… this was new.

Raven held up his hand and pointed to the prominent ring recently placed on his finger. Set in the band was a large, glimmering, purple gemstone. “This fancy little thing can draw the energy out of you and store it, with or without your consent.” He lowered his hand again and breathed out a short chortle. “You know, I am really surprised that you don’t have any idea what you’ll be capable of ten years down the line, but only if you stop allowing them to hold you back.

“Anyway, that’s why I simply can’t allow you to get away. Without your raw energy, we don’t have enough power for anything useful,” he finished. “So, there you have it, Logan. Are you with us, or are you against us? Because it really makes very little difference to me.”

The more Logan heard, the more he loathed the very consideration of the idea. Learning magic was an admirable goal, but this was so far from any proper to do it, it made him sick. “Against you,” he said.

Raven shrugged and sighed. “Damn it, Logan. I’ve been more than generous here. But if you want to stay in this cell for the rest of your life, I’m happy to oblige. Now, hold still.”

Wasting no more words, Raven grabbed Logan’s shoulder and drew his other hand – the one with the ring on it – into a fist. With a grim focus, Raven made to punch his captive at heart-level, but not with force. Instead, the gemstone of the ring pressed against Logan’s tunic and against the flesh beneath.

In seconds, Logan felt incredibly unsettled, and he began to hyperventilate. The feeling he experienced… wasn’t pain, nor could he accurately describe it with any single word or phrase. When his vision started to blur out of focus, he wanted to struggle against his bonds, but his arms were so weak they wouldn’t move. He wanted to plead for Raven to stop, but he was unable to exhale at will. It was as though there was a disconnection between his mind and soul.

He didn’t know how long it took … seconds, minutes, or hours … before Raven drew the ring away. And gradually, thankfully, Logan felt his senses return to normal. He was still harrowed by the brief experience, but also glad that it was only temporary.

Raven admired the ring, now glittering quite a bit more brightly than it was just moments ago. “Very nice, Logan. You’re a regular magnet for magical energy.”

Leaving Logan in his chair, Raven left through the cell door, locked it, and walked out of view. “Don’t go anywhere, Logan,” his cheerful voice carried through the narrow hallway. “I’ll definitely need you again when you’re… recharged.”

Logan waited, numb, trying only to slow his rapid breathing. It wasn’t right – wasn’t natural – for his energy to be stripped away in that manner. On top of everything else that happened to him lately, he now felt a faint chill emanating from the center of his heart. 

But he had to stay strong. Raven was gone now, and he needed to get out of the cell. Was Raven’s group planning on making their move against the Academy right now? His mind steeled with purpose. He was the only one who had even a chance to stop them!

There were no further sounds from the hallway. Deciding that Raven wasn’t going to come back anytime soon, nor were any of his friends, Logan felt safe enough to whisper, “Orion, I need you.”

As with every time before when he spoke these words, the dragon appeared before him in a flash of light and smoke. Logan exhaled slowly. He had been holding his breath, wondering if he had managed to unsummon Orion in time.

Orion looked up at his employer and studied him carefully. <I am glad to see that master is … alive.>

“Yeah. I am, too,” Logan said, then paused, troubled. “Er, Orion, can you… tell me what happened to you after you were unsummoned?”

<Of course, master,> Orion replied. <I was sent back to my own realm, where I ate, and then rested, saving my strength and waiting for you to call me again.>

“You didn’t… fly? Or talk to any other dragons?” Logan inquired.

<Not today, master. Do you think I should have?>

 “Uh, no. Forget about it,” Logan said. “Can you help me out of these ropes?”

<Yes, master. Although, under different circumstances, I would object to using my teeth for such a task.>

As Orion used his sharp fangs to gnaw swiftly through the thin ropes, Logan described what had transpired while Raven was in the cell. “Some of the things he said … I don’t know what to think of it. But I do know that he’s planning to do something very terrible to the Academy very soon.” With the ropes undone, Logan rubbed his tender wrists and ankles. “Can you do something about the lock as well.”

There was a silent beat before Orion replied. <Yes. But, after our lives are no longer in danger, master, I may have a few special favors to request from you.>

“If I can see the sun just one more time, I’ll give you anything,” Logan replied. 

Satisfied with the answer, the dragon bobbed his head and flew to the cell door’s lock. <It’s a simple trick. These locks are designed to thwart humans – not dragons,> he explained, using a tiny talon to manipulate the uncomplicated mechanical innards of the lock. The door was open within seconds.

Quietly, the two of them explored their surroundings, mostly by means of Orion speedily flying through the halls and calling Logan forward when he saw the path was clear. Raven must have been confident enough to leave Logan without any guards in the immediate area.

But they did find someone else of interest. They found Abigail.

She was in another cell, far away from Logan’s, after moving for some time through the twisting, maze-like passages of the dungeon. Orion unlocked her door, and Logan quickly set to untying her bonds of thin rope.

Logan cringed when he got close. The young paladin’s face was a bruised, reddened, and half-swollen mess. She looked completely downtrodden, staring only at the floor as Logan tended to her. Perhaps some of the more violent members of Raven’s group had taken out some aggression on her. 

She had, after all, stabbed one of them in the stomach with a spear-axe.

“Abigail… Abigail, we’ve got to get out of here,” Logan said, trying to sound more optimistic than he felt.

“No…” Abigail replied softly.

Logan didn’t stop untying the ropes. “Look, about the things I said before we were captured… I didn’t mean any of it. Raven is going to use a spell to kill many innocent people if we don’t stop him…”

“You don’t get it,” she said, her voice strained. “I’ve never been defeated in battle before. When I was fighting them, I … felt … nothing, as though I was fighting without eyes. The presence of the gods had abandoned me then, just as I’ve been abandoned while those people tied me to this chair and beat me.”

Finished untying her wrists, Logan started on the ropes around her ankles. “Well, there were quite a lot of them,” he said diplomatically. “And I haven’t exactly been treated like royalty, either.”

“Damn it, kid!” Abigail suddenly growled, giving Logan a start. “I insisted on this plan because I … knew … I felt … that it would be successful.” Her anger turned to melancholy again. “But now, there’s nothing. I must have done something wrong… why else would the gods abandon me?”

It was a bit outside of Logan’s area of expertise, and furthermore, he was afraid of upsetting her again. Wordlessly, he finished untying the ropes and stood back up. And even though he waited, Abigail didn’t move.

<Is master going to say something convincing, or should we leave her here?> Orion wondered aloud.

Say something convincing? To her? Logan sighed.

“Okay, um, what’s… what was the reason why you became a paladin in the first place?” he asked. “Was it to fight evil, or was it to win singlehandedly in an eight-to-one fight?”

“To fight evil, of course,” Abigail replied instantly. “The gods do not lend aid to those… who are not pure of heart.”

“Okay, good, good,” Logan said. He had to pause, wondering exactly where he intended to go with this. “You’re still alive, you know? I mean, Raven’s got … a  reason … to keep me healthy, but what about you? I don’t know anything about the gods, but maybe this is their way of giving you a second chance. Or, hey, maybe this is the best way to stop them – from right under their noses.”

 Abigail didn’t stir. Logan had to wonder if his words were falling on deaf ears. “So, I guess you have a choice. You can sit here and feel sorry for yourself… or you can follow me. Raven is planning to do something terrible. I don’t know how, yet, but I intend to stop him.”

Logan couldn’t think of anything more to say. Mentally shrugging, he turned to leave… and heard a rustling sound as Abigail got to her feet.

“Alright, kid. I’m with you,” was all she said. Or needed to say.

----------

 Reunited again, the three of them slowly walked the maze of hallways. Orion continued to act as a forward scout, calling Logan and Abigail forward at each corner. Such caution proved to be unnecessary, however, as the halls were quiet and empty.

In their exploration, they found a side room – locked, but no barrier to Orion. Wary for traps or ambushes, they opened the door and entered the room, but again, nothing hindered their way.

As luck would have it, they had stumbled across what appeared to be a storeroom of sorts. While not exactly as lavish as a king’s treasury, a number of interesting objects quickly caught Logan’s eye.

“Orion, look at these things…” Logan said as he rifled through some wooden crates, quickly – but carefully – looking at pouches of sand and smelling elixirs. “I’ve read about some of these… Like this…” he paused, holding on of the bottles up. “This must be dragon’s-breath potion. You can tell by the its distinct odor.”

Orion flew over and perched on Logan’s shoulder, tilting his head quizzically. <I beg master’s pardon?>

“Er, that’s just what they call it, you know?” Logan said apologetically. “I’ve read about most of these things… but why are they just sitting in this room? Raven could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he put some of this to use.”

<Perhaps it is because he did not read the textbooks,> Orion suggested.

“Yes, that’s what I –“

<Because he did not have a dragon to help him cheat,> Orion finished.

Logan frowned as he affixed the potion to his belt. “Yes, well, cheating may be my greatest asset right now,” he tried to rationalize, more to himself than to Orion.

<I did not mean to imply it to be a bad thing,> Orion said softly. <There is nothing wrong with having a… tutor.>

Logan couldn’t help but smile at that, but their conversation was interrupted by Abigail. “Hey, kid. Who’re you talking to?” she said from behind them.

Startled, he turned around, and was surprised to see that she was armed with her axe and shield once more. She must have found them amongst the room’s objects.

She smirked at them. “We’ve got some vengeance to take care of.”

----------

	Raven was in a large room along with the rest of the recruits to his cause, standing at a short stone altar, with his ringed hand up high and holding a spellbook in the other. Everyone else was gathered around the altar in a wide circle.

There was only one chance to get this right. He had waited far too long to mess it up and be forced to wait for Logan’s magical energy to re-accumulate. To be totally sure everything would go right, he had spent the last several minutes making sure everyone knew their role and got exactly into their proper positions.

Now, he had already spent twice as long wresting against the complicated spells needed to channel Logan’s raw siphoned energy from the ring, and into the spell for spreading disease into the Academy, miles away. 

Indeed, he had spent weeks reviewing everything involved. He had even collected a stack of the school’s useless textbooks to simplify the distance problem – similar to the witch magic of voodoo, they were representative of the target location.

Actually performing the magic involved was another thing entirely; he was being very careful to not mangle any of the complicated incantations. Some of the other student wizards might have been getting restless, but they had the easy job.

“Okay, everyone,” he said. “Channel your energy into the ring.”

Obligingly, each of them raised an arm. Raven could sense the ring’s stone absorbing their willingly-surrendered power, charging it as much as possible for his next task… to spread a killing disease amongst the people that had cheated them all out of their right… It would be rapid, discreet, and once the virus had done its work, it would die on its own, without a trace.

All he needed to do was to carefully chant one last incantation.

“Stop right there!” someone yelled from afar. A female voice. Familiar sounding.

Raven turned to face the voice, and was shocked to see Logan and Abigail standing at the open door to the room. “Logan! How did you…?” he hissed, then stopped short on realizing what was perched on Logan’s shoulder, and the implications thereof. “A dragon? You have a dragon, Logan?”

“Um…” Logan said, caught off-guard by the question. 

In the lack of a true reply from his employer, Orion opened his reptilian jaws and hissed with unusual ferocity. Logan glanced to his shoulder, lightly bemused in spite of the tense situation.

“What do you think you’re doing, Logan?” Raven demanded harshly, but he realized his voice was quavering with nervousness he didn’t want to admit.

“We’re going to stop you!” Logan shouted back. “You can’t kill people just because you’re impatient!”

Raven scowled. “You’re missing the point, Logan. They lied to us. They lied to you. How can you possibly defend anyone who claims to ‘teach’ there?”

Logan was about to say something, but Raven put up a halting hand. “You know what? Don’t even bother. You’re nothing if not ridiculously stubborn.” He looked toward his cadre, and pointed at Logan and Abigail. “Disable them, now!”

An uneasy murmuring stirred from amongst the other students. “Raven,” one of them said meekly, “our magic…”

“Just do it!” Raven snapped.

It was a repeat of the encounter on the road, with Raven’s group moving to surround Logan and Abigail as best they could. Abigail twirled her axe with one hand and stepped forward, ready to redeem herself.

“Wait!” Logan said. Raven was going to answer, but he realized the command was directed toward the paladin. “Don’t kill any of them. They’re students, just like me. They’re confused – not evil.”

The other once-students were unfazed, but Abigail rolled her eyes. “Alright, kid. Whatever you say,” she said.

The larger group split up to engage Abigail and Logan at the same time. Abigail rushed forward, taking her opponents by surprise – one was too slow to backpedal as the backside of her axe smashed against his arm, sending him staggering in pain.

As before, they were able to surround her. One grabbed her arm; once again, she grunted in pain and shuddered, but the effect was brief and lacked true power. Shaking off the meager spell, she turned her head and grinned at her attacker, then whirled around and bashed his nose with her shield.

Logan darted his eyes between his own enemies, suddenly feeling more afraid than confident. They wanted to grab him again – inflict him with pain and force him to his knees. But, this time, Logan wasn’t without a weapon of his own. He took the bottle from his belt, uncorked, and drank it. 

Or, rather, he held the liquid in his mouth without swallowing. He had read extensively about this type of potion. Alone, it was a fairly useless concoction. But, combined with human saliva…

Logan spat the saliva-laced potion forcefully; the spray of droplets flew straight at the student wizards. The aerosolized dragon’s-breath potion, activated and sent through at least a couple meters of fresh air, lit up like a hurricane of fiery embers. 

It was not a lethal, nor even a dangerous weapon – more of a party trick under most circumstances. But it was also a potent skin and eye irritant, and quite painful when the formula was left undiluted, as this one was. 

Logan’s attackers were almost instantly reduced to wailing and clutching at their faces… which only made their exposed palms be affected by the spray. One by one, as they fell to the ground, Logan knew they weren’t going to bother anyone for a while.

Abigail swiftly dealt with the last member of her own group, and raised her eyebrows at Logan. “Nice work, kid,” she said.

“Mm,” he replied, noncommittal, frowning at the aftermath of his handiwork. “Stay there. Let me handle him.”

As usual, Raven was watching events unfold from afar… this time, not to his favor, despite being backed by his “army”. He was so close… so very close his plan coming to fruition. Why was everything changing now? Why was everything crashing down upon his head at the eleventh hour?

He spread his arms out. “I don’t understand it, Logan,” he said plaintively. “Do you realize what you have… and what you are throwing away?” He paused, lost in his confusion. “By the nine hells, there is a dragon on your shoulder! By any logic, you should be standing here next to me right now!”

Carefully, Logan stepped around the incapacitated bodies of his fallen foes as he walked toward Raven. He shook his head solemnly. “You’re beaten, Raven. Just give up. It’s not too late to walk away from all of this.”

Raven mirrored the headshake – but more forcefully. “And where do I walk to, Logan? Back to the Academy? You would have me stop when I’m so close? No… No. I’m going to complete the spell, and you … You are going to stand right there until you realize that I’m right.”

----------

	 It wasn’t just because the continued existence of the Academy was important to his future, and it wasn’t out of some pure moral drive to prevent murder or fight evil, either. He even empathized with Raven’s point of view, to an extent. Under different circumstances, Logan even might have been standing in his place – not just alongside him.

	 Logan didn’t hesitate. The second that Raven began reciting his spell again, Logan sprinted forward, so suddenly that Orion literally fell off his shoulder in surprise.

	He didn’t really know what he was doing. He had no initial plan or set goal. All he could think about was grabbing Raven … wrestling him ... anything to distract or prevent him from achieving his purpose. Logan didn’t have any magic, and he didn’t know anything about fighting, but he had to do something… but what? 

	The ring that he wore… the purple stone had absorbed his energy. It was acting as the power source for Raven’s high-level magic. If Logan could get the ring off his hand and toss it away…

	But Raven fought and resisted him with all of his might. It didn’t take long for him to realize what Logan’s target was. “You… you fool,” he grunted amidst the scuffle. “The ring is fragile, and holds a massive amount of raw power! Are you trying to get us both killed?” 

They grappled haphazardly for several seconds – Logan was trying to grab the ring, perhaps to tear it off the finger, and Raven was trying desperately to pry his opponent off and push him away.

Logan eventually succeeded in gripping the small gemstone between his fingers. Raven fought back: grabbing, tugging, doing anything he could to keep the ring on his hand.

Logan didn’t even feel or realize that the ring cracked during the fighting… before it finally broke completely, shattering into a thousand tiny fragments. 

Both of the young wizards were knocked down by the sudden, massive explosion of stored energy. To an outside observer, there was no visual cue – nothing to see as the two of them toppled over backwards, seemingly of their own accord.

But Logan was hurting. There wasn’t any sign of physical damage, nor was it comparable to the pain spell he had been subjected to earlier. This energy was undirected – wild – like a tidal wave rending through his very soul. Not malicious, but also not caring what was in the way.

He lied there on the floor … not in agony … rather, quite the opposite. He was cold. Numb. Detached…

…Empty.

His lovely view of the ceiling was suddenly obstructed by a blurry figure standing over him, and then a scaly snout bumping against his nose. They were saying something to him, but it was indistinct and muffled. He could guess, though. They wanted to know if he was okay.

His distant musing was cut short by the larger, blurry figure grabbing his tunic and wrenching him upward. “Kid!” it shouted into his face. It must have been Abigail. “You’re not dead yet, so get up!”

<Master ought to do what she says,> Orion said. Then, after a second of thought, nipped Logan on the nose.

“Ow!” Logan yelped. “Fine! I’m getting up!” He took Abigail’s hand, and she helped to haul him back to his feet. He still felt very strange, and his entire body was shaking. But at least he could stand. And feel pain. Those were good signs.

Sluggishly, he limped over to Raven’s prone form. He, like Logan, didn’t have any signs of physical injury, but Logan knew exactly how he felt. Which was to say… he wasn’t feeling. It wasn’t just from the arcane explosion… it was also from the knowledge that his plans had been stopped for good.

“Logan…” Raven whispered, squinting upward. “Guess you beat me … I suppose you… got what you wanted… out of all this, then?”

Logan didn’t answer – couldn’t answer, at first. As Raven looked at him, confusedly, questioningly, helplessly… he stared back. Back at his peer – his fellow student of wizardry who had caused him so much grief in so little time. By any logic, Logan should have been outraged. He should have wanted revenge.

But he didn’t.

“No, Raven,” Logan said, after a long pause. “I haven’t… yet.”

----------

	The sky exploded like an erupting volcano, sending brilliant tongues of fire lashing out in every direction, giving way to thousands of glittering sparks. The combination was an artistic and beautiful spectacle… but alas, the frigid night air consumed the airborne heat in seconds, and all was once again dark and quiet.

	The gathered crowd applauded and cheered.

	<That was the best one yet, master,> Orion said from Logan’s shoulder. <Do another!>

	Even though the weather was cold, Logan had to wipe the sweat off his forehead – not from the heat, but from the exertion. “That’s all well for you to say,” he replied. “We only just learned that one – it takes a lot of concentration.”

	“Maybe for you,” another wizard standing beside Logan chuckled. He raised his hand to the sky, opened-palmed, the fingers pointing straight upward and slightly fanned out. 

Four iridescent orbs, like blazing coals or tiny stars, sprung from the tip of each finger and rocketed straight toward the heavens. Dozens of meters above the ground, the orbs detonated in succession, setting the sky on fire until, as before, the flames dissolved into oblivion.

	The crowd applauded and cheered again.

	“See that?” the wizard asked. “You might have the endurance to keep casting all day, but I still have you beat in power.”

	<He makes a good point, master,> Orion commented.

	Logan grinned, good-naturedly. “Now, now, it’s not a contest, Raven…”

	Raven smirked back at him.

	They had been at this a while – a little entertainment for the people, and a good chance to practice their skills. Still, it was getting late, and it would be time for them to find an inn soon. Logan would have suggested the prospect aloud, were he not interrupted.

	“Kid!” It was a gruff, female voice. Someone was approaching them from out of the crowd. “Kid, that’s you, isn’t it?”

	“Abigail!” Logan called back. “It’s been a while!”

	Raven slapped Logan lightly on the shoulder. “Aha! I knew it all along: She is your girlfriend,” he said.

Abigail moved next to the three of them, meeting eyes with Raven only briefly before turning her attention to Logan. She hadn’t changed one bit from how Logan remembered… personality included. “Look at you, kid. You’re all grown up and doing your ‘wizarding’,” she said. “Bet you could hurt someone but good with that magic, huh?”

Logan was going to protest that he abhorred violence, but he noticed that she was grinning slyly – and therefore jesting. “Maybe,” he answered. “What about you? What have you been up to since we parted ways?”

“I’m still a paladin – still doing what we do,” she said, but secretly, she gave him a knowing nod. “Sometimes it involves an axe to someone’s gut, and sometimes… not.” She glanced toward Raven, “I take it that he’s been behaving.”

“Bygones,” Logan said shortly.

“Mm.” Abigail half-shrugged. “Just curious; nothing more.” 

Swiftly, she changed the subject. “You know, I’ve been trying to find you for a long time,” she said, pausing to chew her lip. “I mean, this is kind of awkward… Um…”

“Spit it out, already,” Raven said impatiently.

She gave Raven a dirty look, then turned her attention back to Logan. “You… did really good, back then,” she said. “I don’t think I ever showed any real appreciation for it… what you accomplished, even when you didn’t know any magic… but they did, you know?”

She paused, tight-lipped, before finishing somewhat lamely, “So… keep up the good work.” But Logan could see, by her face, that she had more on her mind. More that couldn’t be put into words. Although they had their clashes in the past, she had respect for him… even if pride stopped her from voicing it. 

After a silent beat, Abigail thrust out a gloved hand, offering a handshake. She added, “And take care of yourself… okay, Logan?”

Wordlessly, Logan took her hand. They shook twice firmly, and then she turned and left. Logan just stood and stared, but she soon enough vanished amongst the few people still hoping to see more pyrotechnics.

And then, Logan smiled.

Fin.