by L. Itram and Ben Yackley Main * Story * Setting * Cast * Illustrations * About * Comment

Chapter 1: The Mages Err (Posted on 8/1/02 )

Featherglass Academy of Magic is renowned throughout the world as the premier college devoted to the wizardly arts. In truth, it is the only college devoted to the wizardly arts, but it doesn't let that little detail get in the way of its reputation.

If you arrive from the sea, as many foreign students do, your first view is of the Academy itself, a cluster of buildings reflecting the afternoon sunlight in soft pastel pinks, blues and golds, occasionally dotted with the green of manicured trees. Down near the shore, the buildings are lower and blockier, with docks sprawling out into the bay like the tendrils of an octopus or the roots of a tree -- both of which are quite valid metaphors since Featherglass was originally a port town and most of its people and goods still arrive by boat. Beyond the university, the decor changes: clusters of brightly painted buildings, spilling down the hills and climbing up them. These constitute the modern trading town of Featherglass where, it is said, a person with enough time or money can find anything from anywhere. The newcomer's overall impression is of a seashell washed ashore against a heap of wildflowers.

Returning students can make out the low bulk of the alchemy building on the left and the library way back behind the dorms. Or so they say -- they may just be making it all up from memory. Certainly nobody can miss the grand spire of the Tower of Vision, reaching up from the center like a giant arm, ready to grasp the clouds.

Off to the east of this picture-postcard view is a hill. The hypothetical newcomer would pay little attention to it since it is, in all fairness, rather dull looking and almost indistinguishable from all the other tree-dotted hills which cover the peninsula and are not themselves covered by town. Situated beneath a tree at the top of this particular hill -- at the very best position to catch the cool breezes off the ocean -- lies a young Levendish woman. She, at least, is anything but nondescript. Her pointed ears and fox-like features are standard for her race, though they would probably be considered "cute" rather than "elegant," which is the impression her cloaked black costume attempts to convey. The short fur which covers her from head to tail is also a common fixture, though its lavender color is not. Neither are the four arms -- one pair pillowing her head while the other rest across her stomach. Most Levendish - as well as the reptilian Zemrin and the human-like Aezites -- are provided with one head, two arms, two legs, and one tail at birth and find it quite troublesome to get extra helpings.

At the moment, this particular woman is unconscious of her oddities for the simple reason that she is -- at the moment -- unconscious, period. But the dusty-orange striped figure currently climbing up the hill toward her -- a figure neither Levendish, nor Zemrin nor Aezite -- seems determined to change this state of affairs.

"Hoi! Viola!"

Viola opened an eye, then closed it again on the figure hopping toward her. "Aye, Kinto. 'Tis I. How very observant of ye."

Kinto squatted next to the lavender Levendish. Unlike Viola, who would have had an upright stance had she not been laying down and vainly pretending to be asleep, his body was built like a bird's: thick tail counterbalancing a torso which leaned forward slightly, giving him a hunchbacked appearance. Also unlike Viola, his orange skin was perfectly normal for a Tximisti.

"What are ya doin' all the way out here?" he demanded, ignoring her bored tone of voice. "Took me forever to find ya," Then, without waiting for an answer, "I ran into Johan again! Y'wouldn't believe --- "

Viola nodded absently without really listening. Kinto was always complaining about the sophomore. Given his usual fiery personality she was surprised he didn't just kick the milksop across campus and get it over with.

"-- some sort of favoritism, must have rich relatives. He don't know a thing about basic magic, but he's still here after a year!"

Still here indeed, but retaking all his classes, thought Viola. She had seen him in Magic Safety that morning. Pushing aside the embarrassing memories which had led to her retaking the class herself, she picked up on a his next sentence.

"-- strollin' along doin' nothing while we have t'struggle just t'pass our classes!"

Strolling along ... like that know-it-all dragon who was also in Magic Safety this semester. Technically speaking he was probably some kind of half-breed Tximisti and not a mythical beast of fable. Not that Viola had anything against hybrids; apart from being unusual looking, which she considered a distinct advantage, they tended to possess slightly more innate magic than the average person. Deep in her heart, she still held a bit of a grudge against fate for its inconsiderateness in not having allowed her to be born one. But whatever sort of hybridicity (Viola wasn't even sure if that was a word, but if not then it certainly should have been) this newcomer may claim would not be sufficient to excuse his behavior. The new teacher - whatever her name was - had given them a senior-level spell diagram, presumably to show the dangers of guessing at magic and hit the little freshmen with a taste of their own ignorance. Then this dragon pipes up and solves it like it was an arithmetic exercise! Egotistical little twit. Probably trying to get in good with the teacher, as though her opinion really mattered. And to think, they were in the same class so she'd have to deal with that --

" -- dragon friend of his got in th'way! A perfect set-up, I tell ya! If Johan'd been alone, he -- "

"Dragon friend?" she asked casually.

"Huh?" Kinto had almost forgotten that he had a listener. "Eh. I dunno. Some freshman's made friends with him. Only friend he's got, I bet."

Viola stretched all four arms and sat up, still pretending disinterest. "What did 'e look like, Kinto?"

He shrugged, "Tall, sorta skinny, long hair."

"Color?" She reached for her gloves and started putting them on, one at a time.

"Pink an' polka-dots by th'time I was done. Kept blocking my aim or Silverfox would've gotten it."

Viola resisted the urge to comment on Kinto's aim. "Before ye shot him, ye twit."

"Oh. Brown hair, green skin. Floppy hat. Why?"

She finished putting on the gloves and stretched again. "I'm acquainted with this dragon ... an' I believe he deserves a lesson as much as yer precious Johan. What say ye we team up and tutor 'em both?"

"Too bad we can't use some real battle magic. That lighting spell I was practicin' this morning was sweeeet!"

"A bit crude for me tastes," responded Viola, "although perfectly in keeping with yers. But ye know the wards around campus would nullify it, not t'mention getting us in trouble."

"Yeah, yeah, y'don't have t' lecture me. Pass the chalk."

The bickering was more from habit than anything else; they were both in too good a mood at the moment for serious arguments.

"Aye, public embarrassment is a much more fitting punishment," commented Viola, standing guard while Kinto drew the circle. The Plaza of the Arts was the center of campus which nearly all the students passed through several times a day, and therefore the perfect location for their trap. At the moment most of the school was in class, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

"Be sure and note them in the right order. The hair-loss spell is useless on the dragon -- "

Kinto chuckled, "He'd miss his ponytail, I bet!"

" -- and there be nae point to changing Johan's skin color if naught can see it."

"Right, right. Here, you check." He handed her the chalk and stood guard.

In Viola's private opinion, Kinto was an excellent elementalist but too single-mindedly focused on things that go boom to be good for much else. But he had certainly done a thorough job on the runes. The spells were set to trigger when a Levendish and a dragon were in the vicinity together. On a campus as small as Featherglass, that would certainly mean Johan and his new friend Fendrian.

"An' now we hide," he announced, once she'd finished inspecting the circle.

"Dinner starts in fifteen minutes," Viola noted as they took up position behind one of the many statues of famous former pupils which sat around the edges of the plaza. "We must be patient."

"Right, right," he muttered.

"This lackadaisical attitude on the part of the students does not amuse me," said the Librarian, who also happened to be an enormous disembodied dragon head. Students did not comment on this fact as his lack of hands was more than adequately compensated by his teeth.

"Bah," said his more normally shaped companion.

"There was a time," the head continued, taking the grunt as a sign of agreement, "when admission to Featherglass was an honor and a privilege, and those to whom it was granted would work night and day to take advantage of all we had to offer. Now what do we have? Adolescent upstarts who wish to avoid learning a productive trade by playing at magic!"

"Better off givin' 'em a keg of gunpowder to play with. Less mess in the long run." The Custodian was in charge of cleaning up said magical messes and was one of the most feared figures on campus. Disobedient students and innocent bystanders alike would run from the scene at the sight of the charcoal-black Levendish brandishing his glowing mop. Nobody could explain just why he was so feared as he had never been seen -- by reliable sources, at least -- to use any magic at all.

At the moment, both he and the Librarian were taking an evening stroll across campus and discussing their common interests.

The Librarian shook his head, or floated from side to side depending on your point of reference. "If only it were that easy. The sad fact is that we do receive a few talented souls among the rabble, but they prefer childish games to true Knowledge."

"Hmph," responded the Custodian, suggesting talent and trouble were just a few words apart in his dictionary.

"I kid you not. Take Luen Mazarien: possibly the laziest person to wander into my library since old Sarlinis." He nodded at one of the statues across the plaza. "And equally filled with potential. Or Viola Longdawning. Careless, careless woman. What they really need is a good dose of discipline."

The Custodian swung his mop.

"No, I think not, my friend. Public embarrassment is much more fitting. Coupled with a few years' public service in the wilds of the Zemrin jungles... Yes, that should teach them nicely."

"Try tellin' the Dean that."

The Librarian's answer was lost because several things happened at once.

Viola and Kinto had been watching the duo's progress from behind the statue of old Sarlinis, with varying degrees of worry. Kinto realized that if Fendrian and Johan were to appear at this moment, their revenge would be turned back on them. Viola, having been alternately complimented and insulted by the Librarian was calculating their chances of being spotted. Even innocent students avoided those two, but hiding and spying was not the behavior of an innocent student.

The Librarian's opinion of them as careless is probably supported by the fact that neither of them realized, until it was too late, what would happen should the five foot tall dragon head and the Levendish step into the home-made trap.

A baby-blue dragon head spun around in place, fixing each statue with a glare. "WHO? WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?" he bellowed.

The Custodian bent down to examine the remains of the chalked circle. "Student work." His hair was intact, of course: the Custodian's immunity to student magic of all sorts was part of his fearsome reputation. Most claimed his enchanted cleaning-wear had been given to him by the Dean to protect him. A few thought he might have developed an immunity after so many years of cleaning up other peoples' messes. Some secretly suspected him of being a former (or possibly current) faculty member whose special field of study was protective counterspells. Nobody even considered asking him for fear of what his response might be.

Regardless of cause, the result was that he was a bit more clear-headed than the Librarian but no less angry. He knew exactly what the spell would have done to his dreadlocks, and losing one's fur was no laughing matter to any Levendish.

Viola and Kinto stared at each other in horror from behind their hiding place. If they made a dash for it, they'd be spotted. If they stayed --

"There," said the Custodian as the Librarian paused to take a breath.

"Run!" hissed Viola, but Kinto was already headed down the row of statues. The Librarian spun around in pursuit leaving his companion to take care of Viola.

No problem, thought Viola. Fast movement is my forte. She closed her eyes to better visualize the top of the nearby Hall of Wonder and teleported herself there. Not even stopping to catch her breath, she raced for the stairwell leading into the building. Running headlong down the first flight of steps, she didn't see the mop handle until after she'd tripped over it. The Custodian swung it around to hit her, but Viola rolled out of the way, then switched direction and slipped past him through the doorway.

The decor of the Alchemy wing could be summed up in one word: shiny. The corridor down which Viola ran was lit by large windows overlooking the courtyard below, and every third door on her left was of polished metal with brightly painted caution signs. Most of the details were lost on her, preoccupied as she was, but she did notice that the upper stories had more metal doors and caution signs than the ground floor and fewer of the decorative display cases featuring portraits of important alchemists and replicas of the instruments or techniques they were best known for. Probably don't get many outside visitors here. I wonder what the basement looks like. But with the Custodian on her heels there was not much time to admire the scenery. The bridge to the necromancy wing was fast approaching; Viola was not familiar enough with that area to risk teleporting around in it. She turned the corner and pushed open the first window that came to hand, took careful note of the layout of the grounds below, and climbed out.

In retrospect, thought Kinto, it had probably been a bad idea to head east. Librarian's on your tail and you make for the teacher's offices? Talk about stupid. But the only alternative was library. And that, he concluded, ducking down a side corridor and weaving through a cluster of grad students complaining about their respective classes, would have been suicide. Left, right, up the stairs, around the corner, he didn't know where he was going. But the Librarian didn't seem to, either, and simply barged along behind, crashing into the professors and students who Kinto managed to slip past. The current corridor, like all the ones before it, was wood-paneled and lined with offices. At the far end was a half open window.

Neither of them would have been willing to admit it, but in some respects Kinto and Viola thought quite a bit alike.

Crash!

Viola materialized five feet above ground level on the opposite end of the courtyard and promptly fell into the shrubbery. Could have been worse, she concluded, picking leaves out of her hair. There was no sign of the Custodian through any of the upper story windows so he was probably in the stairwell. She took a moment to get her bearings again. She was in the rectangular gap between the two wings of the Hall of Wonder. In front of her was the Alchemy wing she'd jumped out of while the wall at her back belonged to Necromancy. The only way out was below the bridge connecting the two. Not a good set-up at all, she decided, making for the exit.

Crash!

Kinto climbed out of the wreckage of a lettuce patch -- or so he assumed it was, though lettuce was not normally magenta in color -- and took stock of his surroundings. The research garden was not the best place to escape pursuit, he decided; the plants were too short this time of year. The squat shape of the library loomed to his left, reminding him that he was not here to sightsee. He stood and started jogging across the garden on the assumption that going somewhere was safer than sitting on unknown plants. A bellow behind him as the Librarian fell head over neck into the lettuce confirmed his hunch.

The entrance to the women's gym appeared before Kinto. He hesitated a moment before deciding against it. While it would certainly be unknown territory to the Librarian it would also be easy for him to get lost and he didn't relish the thought of running into a crowd of athletic and, more importantly, angry upperclasswomen. The dormitory buildings sprawled beyond the gym, a perfect place to lose his pursuer. Sure, they were halfway across campus, but Kinto was built for running.

Left. Right. Up the stairs. Out the window. Through the dining hall. Across the Commons. And back into the dorms again. The painted walls blurred past Kinto, a different color for each of the various buildings, punctuated by blurs of green that were the well-kept lawns between them. The disembodied head was somewhere behind him, still audible though out of sight the one time Kinto paused to look back. With a voice like that, he could be anywhere in the complex. He opened a door to find himself outside again, near the western edge of the men's dormitory. The Librarian was nowhere in sight -- or sound for that matter. Directly across from him was the men's gym. He must be on the other side of the dorms. If I find a hiding place before he finds me, he'll give up pretty quick. He looked left, then right, then made a dash for safety. Unfortunately for him, he'd forgotten to look up and the Librarian swooped down on him like a robin head going for a worm.

Viola jogged through the faculty housing. She much preferred using her wits to using her legs but she'd nearly been caught by the Custodian outside the Hall of Wonder and he was always right behind her no matter which way she teleported. Magic is tiring, student or nae. If this keeps up much longer, I'll soon collapse. She turned a corner, then another, running past the little variously colored cottages in which the professors and administrators lived. Peering around a third intersection she spotted the by now familiar figure at the other end of the path. Is that how he wants to play? She turned around to retrace her steps and nearly ran into him as he stepped out from behind a porch.

Viola did what any self-respecting, albeit exhausted, mage would do in such a situation. She turned half-circle and ran the other way. He caught up with her at a cobbled intersection with a tiny little fountain in the middle of it. Viola made as if to circle around the left, but the Custodian recognized the feint and blocked her when she headed in the other direction. She stepped back and bumped into the fountain. For an instant she thought of teleporting away but knew she didn't have the energy for it -- and who knows where a botched spell would land her. She prepared to dodge past once again, then stopped stiff as a tangle of strings appeared just centimeters away from her nose. Various colors danced across it like rainbows on an oil slick. A detached portion of her mind wondered if any of them belonged to Kinto's earlier attempt on Johan or if they were from her own misfired trap and, if the latter, where she would find a stylish mask to wear until her face-fur grew back in.

"Freeze," said the Custodian from the other end of his mop.

"Ye look a right mess," remarked Viola, leaning against the wall outside the Dean's office.

"You're just lucky y'had the cleanin' guy on your tail," grumbled Kinto, attempting to wring dragon spit out of his gaudily striped vest.

"Aye....sure," she responded softly, still a bit shaken at how easily the Custodian had managed to second-guess her moves. She straightened up. "Looks like we have company."

A blue-skinned figure sauntered down the hall toward them, if someone with no discernable legs could be said to saunter. Take a shark and give it a pair of shoulders with arms attached and a finlike crest down the middle of the head. Then stand it upright, and dress it in a short toga held up by a clasp on the right shoulder and you have a typical Vadhan. This particular one was a subdued shade of blue, and currently in a good mood.

"Well, well, you certainly look a mess," he remarked to Kinto, "Taking swimming lessons at last?"

"Buzz off, Luen."

"Is this the line for the Dean's office?" Luen turned to Viola, ignoring Kinto for the moment.

"Aye, 'tis just that," she responded warily. "And what brings ye to it?"

A shrug. "He called me in, of course. I'm hoping it's to waive my General Studies requirement. I don't want to spend an entire term with a horde of ignorant freshmen."

The door opened. "Viola, Kinto and Luen. Good, you're all here. Do come in."

"I must say, I'm sorely disappointed in you." Viola and Kinto cringed (and in the latter's case, dripped) on the carpet in front of the Dean's large desk. Luen slouched off to one side, trying hard not to grin.

Upperclassmen though they were, they hadn't known what to expect as the Dean was rather reclusive and only the most serious cases (and, of course, the professors) ever saw the inside of his office. Contradictory rumors claimed that he was an ancient master wizard who had fled the Great war, a native Maglatanian, a vampire, and the Librarian's twin brother. Kinto's friend Roan insisted that the head of the university was twelve feet tall with tentacles and five eyes, but nobody really believed the boy had snuck into the Dean's office that night as he'd claimed. The most reliable rumor suggested partial shapeshifting abilities, though a few of the more practical-minded students pointed out just how much magic something of that magnitude would require and wondered if perhaps the Dean was actually a committee.

This particular Dean was almost disappointing given the rumors: a weary-looking Aezite approaching middle age with hazel eyes and short dark-green hair fading to grey at the temples. Aezites had the same upright stance as the Levendish but with flatter facial features and smaller ears. Like most members of that race, the Dean had no body fur, but his skin was a nondescript brown. He looked, thought Viola, as though he'd had a long day and only expected it to get worse.

"Did you really think you could get away with pulling a prank on the two crankiest individuals in the entire campus?" He shook his head tiredly, waving away any protests on their part. "I expected better of you. You're lucky the Custodian wasn't affected; hair like his takes a lot of effort, I hear."

"We weren't aiming for them," blurted out Kinto, before Viola could shush him.

"That was very intelligent of you. Who, then?"

"Just -- eh -- some friends o' ours, sir. A wee prank is all it was."

"That was more than a 'wee prank'," the Dean frowned, "and I'm sure your 'friends' would not have been amused. No, never mind. Was it Mandrake and Silverfox? Ah, I thought so." He stood up. "I am not in the mood to argue with your reasons or lecture you on tolerance to others. But you have forgotten one of the basic tenets of this school." He paused expectantly.

"Don't get th' Librarian mad?" suggested Kinto.

"No. The other one." The Dean paused again, then sighed at the complete lack of response. "What you have forgotten is that magic is fickle when not handled properly, and nobody is perfect. Whenever you cast a spell or inscribe a rune, there is always, always a chance that something will go wrong, be it your own forgetfulness or a chance breeze. No matter how good you are, something may go wrong." The last line was delivered in Luen's direction, effectively wiping the smile off his face. "As a user of magic," he continued, turning back to the guilty duo, "you are expected to take responsibility for what goes wrong as well as what goes right. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

"Expulsion?" whispered Viola.

Rather than answer immediately, the Dean turned to open a cupboard and take out a small package.

"That is the usual end result. But I have a better idea." He tossed the parcel at Kinto.

"What's this?"

"A towel. I would rather you not drip on my rug."

"As I said before," he continued, sitting down again as Kinto made good use of the towel, "I am disappointed in you -- and no, not simply because you broke the rules, Viola. All three of you are extremely bright and talented. You could go very far, perhaps even have your own statues out on the plaza for future generations of pranksters to hide behind. But you have wasted your talents when you could be using them for your advancement. Yes, Luen, all three of you. Your alchemy professor says you have extremely low grades. Do you know why?"

Luen slouched further. Even granted that the Vadhan spine was almost as flexible as a snake's, it was still an impressive feat. After a lengthy silence he added, "'Sboring."

"What?"

"It's boring. It's too easy."

"Then you should be able to ace it without any trouble rather than spending your time --" the Dean made a show of checking his notes "-- smoking the lab supplies. I don't even want to ask which ones.

"The point is that you could have been doing well. All of you. More dedicated and serious students would have put up with the boredom of introductory classes and the annoyances of petty-minded classmates -- and roommates -- and treated them as mere obstacles to success instead of wrecking havoc across the university. You obviously have not advanced that far. But rather than simply punishing you, which would satisfy many members of my faculty but not help the rest of the world one bit, I am going to reassign you."

"Reassign?" asked Luen. All three were thinking the same thing: long dreary years as the local wizard of a tiny isolated town.

"Yes. I will put you in an environment where you can flourish and develop your talents while at the same time staying out of the hair of my students and staff, while they still have any to speak of. In short, I am sending you on a quest."

"Thank you, sir." "Yeah, thanks!"

The Dean leaned back in his chair, obviously glad to have gotten the lecture over with. "Don't thank me yet. I haven't told you what it is."

Silence.

"How about an astronomy quiz before you go? First question: what is a 'Shard of Heaven'? Don't all answer at once. Yes, Kinto?"

"'S a shooting star."

"Can you be a bit more scientific?"

"A chip off the celestial firmament which falls to earth."

"Thank you, Luen. And where are they generally found? Viola, your turn."

"Eh, well, I donna rightly recall, sir. There was one in. ... um ... they generally burn away afore they hit ground, don't they?"

"Correct again. Most of them do, but not all. And even fewer of those have been found.

"So. Your quest, should you choose to accept it, is to find one of these so-called Shards of Heaven for me, to keep out of trouble in the meantime and, hopefully, to develop your minds along the way. Since it is a terribly difficult assignment, I will leave the deadline open but I do advise you not to dawdle. Any questions so far?"

Viola raised a hand. "So we have the choice o' not accepting?"

"Indeed you do. Should you three not accept, Luen will most likely be expelled for his poor grades and the two of you..." he paused. "Being the kind soul that I am, I would vote for permanent expulsion for you as well. However, a Dean who consistently goes against the wishes of his senior faculty does not last long in a university like this so you may not be that lucky. The Librarian has made some quite - um - interesting suggestions, interspersed with rather colorful language which even I had not heard before. The Custodian says little but he is a very creative man when he puts his mind to it. You would, of course, be given your choice of the two."

Silence.

"Any more questions? Yes, Viola?"

"Should we return, our records will be wiped clean then?"

"How terribly forgetful of me. According to precedent, the last time a shard was found ... no, no, we can't have that happening again. Yes, I should think they would. In fact, should you three return successful and mostly intact, you would certainly be eligible candidates for honorary magehood. Unless you do something horribly disastrous in the meantime -- on the level of destroying an entire continent, say -- I don't see how your candidacy could be rejected. So no more record and no more classes, boring or otherwise. Does that sound fair?"

They agreed that it certainly did.

"Good, good. A stipend for food, lodging and supplies has been arranged for you; talk to the bursar before you leave. Also stop by the library as we have set aside copies of some useful spell references. You will not want to let your skills go rusty. Don't worry about the Librarian, he should be quite glad to see you go."

The Dean stood up again, this time to pull a large atlas off his shelf. "Unfortunately I do not know for certain where any shards are located or I would have picked one up myself. However, I do have a few leads. Your best bet would be..."

"A LIBRARY??" fumed Kinto as they left the Hall of Wisdom.

"I was there, Kinto. I heard him," responded Viola.

"But we've got a library right here fer him. Why does he have t'send us all th'way to Almanaque?"

"Because they have a bigger library," interrupted Luen.

"Not much of a quest if y'ask me. Travellin' all over th'world just t'read musty books."

"Tis only our first stop, Kinto. T'will be more interesting once we're on the road." Viola was already imagining the fame and respect that would be hers. Of course, she'd have to share it with these two buffoons, but even so...What a quest! A search for one of the elusive Shards of Heaven, the rare and valuable stones -- or metals perhaps, she wasn't quite sure what they were made of. The rare and valuable somethings sought after by all! Truly a fitting beginning to her career.

Kinto waved a hand in front of her eyes. "What?" she responded.

"Since yer lookin' so happy, why don't you go an' ask th' Librarian fer our books?"

"Go on," added Luen, "It's not as though he's going to eat you."