Chapter Three of Fantasy Masks
A JSE Fanfic
[This is the first part of an ongoing fic series I started in June 2021. Chase gets to know the layout and residents of the Wyvernlair camp.]
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It was clear that Jackie was eager to have someone new to show around Wyvernlair. He led the way, pointing out important features of the camp. Most of the center area was taken up by tents for people to stay in. In addition, there was an area dedicated to cooking, with campfires and stacks of pots and dishes, a wide, clear area for people to practice sword fighting and other combat, and a large space for storage.
All this was fairly normal for any camp. Or at least, that’s what Chase figured, considering he’d never been in a camp of any kind. But he was pretty sure that the massive skeleton made Wyvernlair much different than any other camp. Every bit had been planned around the bones embedded in the ground. The tents were encircled by the dragon. The cooking fires were dotted around the leg bones. The combat field was spread out along the wings that extended out from the rest of the body. And the storage was inside the oversized ribcage, canvas stretched over the gaps to keep out the weather.
Inside the ribs was the most incredible place Chase had ever been. He kept his head craned upward, following the curve of the ivory bones, each one big enough that it would take three full grown men to encircle it. The storage inside the ribcage was much less impressive in comparison, though he did have to admit he’d never seen this amount of weapons, armor, parchment, and foodstuffs in one place. Not to mention all the miscellaneous items as well, like lanterns and chests for storage.
“Oh, you need a jacket!” Jackie suddenly said, bringing Chase back to the conversation. “You can take one of the communal ones, over here.” He grabbed Chase’s hand and pulled him to the side of the ribs, where the chests were full of various clothing, each labeled with types and sizes. “Unless you’re a cloak person?”
“Uh, no, I…jackets are good,” Chase said dazedly.
“Great! What are you, a five?” Jackie waited for Chase to nod, then headed over to the appropriate chest. “We don’t have that many fives left…a lot of people have measurements around there.” He flipped open the chest lid. “Um…yeah, there’s just one. Hope you like yellow.” After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a dull flaxen jacket and tossed it in Chase’s direction.
Chase fumbled for a bit before catching it. It was a fairly normal jacket, and he quickly pulled it on. Autumn in the mountains was not a time to walk around without one. He’d been chilly all through their walk.
“Alright, all that’s left is the skull,” Jackie said. “I don’t know how often you’ll be in there, but it’s good to—”
“I’m sorry, I’m still caught up on the fact that I’m inside a DRAGON SKELETON,” Chase interrupted.
Henrik, who’d been following the tour quietly and letting Jackie do all the talking, suddenly burst into laughter. “I told you. It is shocking, isn’t it?”
“Well…yes!” Chase looked back up at the curve of the ribs above him, slowly shaking his head. “I heard dragons were large, but I didn’t really…picture it, before this.”
“Technically, this is not the skeleton of a full-blooded great dragon,” Henrik said.
“What?”
“The dragon that most people think of, with four legs and two or more wings? That is a great dragon,” Henrik explained. “I’m sure you noticed this one only has two legs; it was likely a wyvern/great dragon crossbreed.”
“Hence the name ‘Wyvernlair,’” Jackie added.
“What’s the difference?” Chase asked.
“Wyverns only had two legs and larger wings. They walked a bit like birds do,” Henrik continued. “And they were usually much smaller. There are some accounts of humans riding them. So this was either an abnormally large wyvern, or it was a crossbreed with the great dragons. Which, yes, could grow as big as this, but that was not so common.”
“Elders,” Chase muttered. The fact that there were once creatures as large as this roaming the land, big enough to encircle half a town…it made him glad they weren’t around anymore.
“It was really lucky that we found this place,” Jackie said. “Not because of the skeleton, but because of its location. There are no trees growing near the bones, so we have room to spread out, and we have our backs to a rock wall, which makes it more defensible.” He paused. “Anyway, the last part on our tour is the skull, and then we can set you up with a tent. Oh, actually, the spare tents are kept here. Let’s grab that now.”
“I get my own?” Chase said, surprised.
“Of course, we have plenty to spare,” Jackie said casually. “We brought a whole bunch up, but recruitment has been slow.”
“Nonexistent,” Henrik muttered. He reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a small flask, taking a quick drink.
“Well…yes,” Jackie admitted. “But let’s go, we’re almost done!”
The skull was just as massive as the rest of the skeleton, with wicked sharp teeth as tall as Chase. He stared at them as Jackie and Henrik led him around to the back, where there was a slight gap where the skull met the spine. They passed through that gap and ended up inside. Much like the ribs, the skull had been converted into a room, with canvas blocking the eye sockets and nasal cavity to make a rough roof. This wasn’t as large as the storage, but it was still at least three times as large as Chase’s cottage. There were more chests in here, and a few rickety desks where people—masks always nearby—sat, reading and writing on parchment. They all glanced up as the three men entered the room, then looked away.
In the middle of the skull was a large circular table, made of solid, dark wood and surrounded by chairs. Various maps were spread out on the surface of the table, held down with weights.
Chase glanced at the largest map, and immediately recognized it as a map of the kingdom of Glasúil. A detailed one, too, covering almost all of the island. The Dragon’s Teeth mountains ran down the center, with the smaller Northaven range branching off to the east, along the northern shore. The Southern Moors were present, slowly merging into the sea. Rivers and forests he’d never heard of crossed the parchment, and each major town and city was represented by a labeled black dot. The only part of the map left blank was the area to the west of the Dragon’s Teeth, which simply had “Wyldwood” written across it.
“Oh hey, you like the maps?” Jackie asked, noticing Chase’s attention. “We use those for planning stuff. A lot of strategy and meetings happen here. This is also where we keep all our records and sort through all our messages with other Phantom locations. Since you’re part of the group now, you’ll eventually go on missions, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to write a report and deliver it here.”
“Missions?” Chase repeated. His head was starting to swim a bit with all the new information.
“Well, if you want to,” Jackie said awkwardly. “I mean, you could stay here and do medicine with Henrik, or be part of our administration—”
“Administration?” This time, Chase laughed a bit when he repeated the word.
“Organization is VERY important,” Schneep emphasized. “There are a lot of us, and we do a lot of things. If we have no organization then we do not know what we’re doing!”
“Yeah, and those things we do are…missions,” Jackie said.
“Alright, what kind of…missions?” Chase asked.
“Depends. We might need to investigate someplace, or something, or someone. We might need to go in and stop an act of injustice, or rescue people who’ve been hurt.” Jackie paused. “If…if we’d heard about the King’s plans for the mountain villages to burn, then we could have…shown up. In time.”
Chase felt his stomach twist at the mention of the burning villages. There was guilt in Jackie’s voice; he clearly felt awful that the Phantoms couldn’t do anything to prevent that. “Well.” Chase took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to make sure things like that don’t happen again.”
Jackie nodded. Henrik placed a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to steady him. He drew himself to his full height and stiffened his posture. “Exactly. The King may think he can get away with any of this, just because of his position. But the people will not stand for it. We will not stand for it. As long as his actions cause death and damage, we will work to remove him.”
For a moment, Chase was in awe at the resolve Jackie showed. He wasn’t that physically intimidating, being almost a head shorter than Chase and a head and a half shorter than Henrik, but he had a commanding aura. Maybe the strength of his conviction was catching. “Exactly,” Chase said. “That’s—that’s what I want to do.” His simple statement sounded lame in comparison.
Jackie smiled. “And that’s why we’re so glad to have you.” He relaxed a bit, looking over at Henrik. “And if Schneep likes you, then I do, too.”
Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I-I’m sorry? What did you call him?”
Henrik’s expression fell. He took his hand off Jackie’s shoulder and pushed him with his shoulder. “I told you, stop using that.”
“But it’s so fun to say,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Chase, did you know that Henrik’s surname is Schneeplestein?”
Chase fought to stifle his giggles. NOW he remembered that particular fact from his first meeting with Henrik. “That’s—well, I’m sure that’s a usual surname in Alterde—”
“It is not,” Henrik said wearily. “It sounds just as ridiculous over there. Go ahead, laugh about it. Get it out of your mind now.”
“No no, I’m fine, I promise.” Chase coughed a bit, clearing his throat of laughter. “At least you HAVE a surname.”
“Ah, it is common to have one where I am from,” Henrik waved away the comment. “I know here it is a nobility thing, but not in Alterde or its neighbors.”
“Really?” Chase said, interested.
“Really. And it is much easier than your family names,” Henrik said bluntly, turning to leave.
“Hey! Wait for us!” Jackie took Chase’s hand and the two of them followed Henrik out of the dragon’s skull.
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“Chase? Are you awake?”
The first thing Chase heard when waking up was someone calling his voice. Instinctively, he rolled over and stretched his arm to the right. Only to be met with nothing but empty space. Oh. Right.
He opened his eyes to a canvas wall and ceiling. He’d gotten his tent yesterday, and Jackie had shown him how to set it up in a spot near the dragon spine. From there, the rest of the day had passed slowly. Awkwardly, too, as Chase didn’t feel up to approaching any of the masked people who were part of the Phantoms. It felt…strange. Like he was constantly intruding on something. So he just spent time in his tent, and when dinnertime rolled around, he showed up to get some stew from the cooking fires then went off to eat on his own. Eventually, the sun set, and he figured that was time to go to bed.
“Chase?” The voice called again.
“Henrik?” Chase asked, sitting up and wiggling out of the bedroll he’d been given.
“Oh, you are awake. Can I open the flap?”
“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like he was indecent or anything. He was actually still wearing his clothes from the day before. Maybe he should check out the storage, see if they had anything else he could use.
Henrik pushed open the flap of the tent and ducked inside, pushing his owl mask up onto his forehead. “Ah, good. I have something for you.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.
Puzzled, Chase took it. “What is this?” He asked as he unfolded it.
“Well, now that you are a Phantom, there are some things you need to be familiar with,” Henrik said. “Jackie put together a schedule for you for today.”
Chase silently looked at the words. He blinked. Then squinted. Then looked back up at Henrik. “Um…I’m sorry, but I…can’t read this.”
Henrik didn’t even have a response for that. “You…cannot read?”
“I can, but only a little,” Chase admitted. “I know the alphabet and numbers, but as for words, I can read what I’m familiar with. Food, animal names, archery gear. Things like that.” He trailed off into a mumble, somehow embarrassed. Reading had never been an issue before. Everyone in town knew enough to get by. But now, he wondered…was that not normal?
“That’s okay,” Henrik said, picking up on Chase’s tone. “Jackie was the same way. We had to teach him.” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “I will explain, then. After breakfast, you will meet with Nemet in the infirmary, she will give you a basic medicine check. To see what you know and fill you in on anything you need. Then you will head down to the tip of the tail, and meet a man there called Tripp. I understand you do not know that much about magic, so he will give you an overview. Then there will be lunch, and then you will head to the combat field to start training with Holly and Lukas.”
Chase started. “What was that last name?”
“Lukas,” Henrik repeated. “You will probably be working with him more, since you seem inclined with bows, and not closer combat.”
“Right.” Chase nodded. That name sounded familiar, like he’d heard it recently…
“Then come back for dinner, and I will check up on you,” Henrik continued. “And by then, hopefully you will know what you want to do most in the group. Medicine, organization, and such. And we will get you a temporary mask.”
“So, why masks?” Chase asked. “I like the idea, but…why? Who came up with it?”
“Oh, the mask concept was Jackie’s idea, but the animal part was added by—by someone else,” Henrik said. There was an odd pause there…was he going to say something else? A name, perhaps? “We wear masks so people will not recognize us. Many of us have friends and family who would be at risk if the King’s people knew we were working against him. Like, for me. You know I am a traveling doctor, yes? Well, when I met you last year, I was already working with the Phantoms. Can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me as a rebel?”
Chase shivered. “Yea, I can.” If the King was willing to burn down the mountain villages for an unknown reason, what would he do to find one of the rebels? With that thought in mind, he slowly stood up. “So…I’ll get started, then. Meeting with all these strangers.”
“Do not be nervous, Chase,” Henrik said gently. “Everyone new we find has to go through something like this. And these are some of our best people.”
“Thanks,” Chase said. “That’s good to know.” Still, his stomach was slowly tying itself in knots as he headed towards the cooking fires, about to start the day.
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After a quick breakfast of toasted bread—light, but with those stomach knots, still hard to get through—Chase headed up the gentle slope towards the infirmary cave in the rock wall. Slipping through the flap in the canvas, he found it unchanged from the day before, when he’d been discharged. Nobody was inside, except for…
“Ibis?” Chase asked.
“Hello, Chase.” Ibis smiled at him. Her mask was off, revealing her features and round, dark eyes for the first time. “It’s good to see you again. And please, my name is Nemet.”
“Oh! Oh, I’m supposed to meet with YOU.” That explained why she was standing near the entrance, she was waiting for him.
“Yes, yes.” Nemet nodded. “Henrik has told me to give you a basics in medicine.” She turned and headed towards the back, indicating he should follow. “Come, come. This shouldn’t take too long.”
Nemet had set three chests on top of each other, making a sort of rough chest-height table. On top of the flat surface of the chest-table were a series of bottles and bags, each one neatly labeled. “Here. These are some of our common tonics and medicines we use here. Tell me what you recognize.”
Chase considered the layout before him. There were probably about thirty in total, if he had to guess. “This is for colds, right? And fevers? And this one, too. And these dried leaves, they’re for nausea. Oh, and this will put you to sleep if you put it in water or stew. This is a salve, also for fevers. And this is a balm for sores. And this will stop infection on cuts and scrapes. And…that’s what I know.”
“Impressive,” Nemet nodded.
“Really? That’s only a fraction of the total,” Chase said doubtfully.
“Most people who join up only know redleaf, bainruish, and seedbane.” Nemet indicated each medicine as she listed them. “Fevers, cuts, and…well, I’m sure you know what seedbane is for, even if you said nothing. You are married, after all.” She laughed as Chase slowly turned red. “Ah, my apologies. The point is, you are ahead of most others.”
“Do we really need all of these?” Chase asked, quickly moving on.
“Oh, yes. You know that when people gather together that sicknesses spread easily. Many of these will help to cure a specific disease, while others are a general tonic, like redleaf.” Nemet paused, then picked up about ten of the medicines and put them on the floor. “Henrik says you are not so much caught up on magic, so we will leave these ones out of our discussion for now.”
Chase started at that. The concept of mixing medicine with magic made him…uneasy. He may not know that much about magic, but he knew it could be dangerous. “I was wondering, Nemet, what did you do before you joined the Phantoms? I know Henrik’s a traveling doctor, are you the same?”
“Not exactly.” Nemet shrugged. “I was a student of medicine back home.”
“And where was that?”
“A land called Kha’Nyphthis.” Nemet grinned a bit at Chase’s confused expression. “You would not have heard of it. It is to the south, on another continent, but not the same continent as Henrik’s Alterde. We have great schools and libraries there, the best in the world. I was learning to become a doctor, and had almost finished my schooling, but one of the final requirements was to learn the medicine of another land. I chose here, Glasúil, because you are well-known for your medicine. But then I arrived, and saw the state of things, and…ah, well.” Her expression fell for a moment.
“I’m…sorry,” Chase said awkwardly. “Do you…ever think about going back?”
Nemet nodded briefly. “Of course. I have family, friends. But I cannot just abandon things. It’s not in my nature to leave things unsettled.” She took a deep breath, and moved on. “But as for your basics in medicine, let me start by getting you familiar with the ones you didn’t know.”
It was a while later before Chase left the infirmary, his head feeling stuffed with all the new information Nemet had drilled into him. Already, some of it was starting to slip away. And he immediately knew that he could never be a doctor. If these were the basics, he couldn’t even begin to think about what would be required to complete the training to become one.
But he didn’t have time to let all that new knowledge sink in. Judging by the sun’s position, it was getting close to noon, and to lunch. He still had to meet up with someone else before it was time to eat. So he hurried onward, running along the curve of the dragon’s bones, following them as they got smaller and smaller, until they eventually merged into the packed ground. Chase slowed to a stop and looked around, confused. This was the end of the tail, wasn’t it? So…where was—
“Hey you’re the new one, right?”
Chase yelped and spun around. A man was sitting between the spine bones of the dragon, almost unnoticeable in the shadow between them. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said slowly. “Are you, uh…Tripp?”
The man nodded, hopped to his feet, and walked over to Chase. Standing up, he was short, even shorter than Jackie. He wore a dark brown cloak that reached his knees, and of course, a mask. This one was shaped like a ram’s head, complete with curved horns, and the black symbol on the forehead was actually four different symbols arranged in a diamond formation. After a moment of looking at them, Chase realized they were the suits often used on playing cards. How…odd. The man reached up and took off the mask, ruffling his golden brown hair and revealing dark eyes. “Tripp, son of Seamus,” he said shortly. “And you are…?”
“Chase. Son of Brody,” Chase said automatically. “Henrik told you I was—”
“You’re not up-and-up on magic and need a course, yea,” Tripp interrupted, swinging his mask around his finger. Chase took a step back despite already being far away. If that went flying, those plaster horns would do some damage. “And he asked me to do it ‘cause I’m our second best guy.”
“You’re the—?”
“What do you know already, Brodyson?” Tripp continued. “Ever met a magic-wielder?”
“There were a handful in town—”
“Sorcerer, wizard, enchanter, oracle, witch?”
“I…what?” Chase blinked. “I…think they were all sorcerers.”
“How many?”
“Only a handful, about six or seven?”
“For a village of four hundred or so people?” Tripp laughed. “Everyone must’ve been magically impotent.”
“Could you slow down?!” Chase snapped. “I thought you were supposed to teach me about magic, not make fun of me for not knowing anything!”
Tripp paused. Then grinned. “It’s just banter, Brodyson. I didn’t mean offense. But hey, you called me out. Good on you for that. My apologies.” His grin faded. “But I’m not jokin’ about that. There should’ve been at least four times that number of magic-wielders in a town that size. What happened? Were the seekers bein’ lazy for the past few years?”
“…Seekers?” Chase repeated, puzzled.
Tripp looked up at the sky. “Oh, elders. They haven’t been showin’ up at all, have they? If you don’t even know about them—alright, we’ll start from the beginning, then.” He sat down on the ground, folding his legs under him. Slowly, Chase sat down across from him. “You know of the five branches, right? I’m pretty sure everyone in the world’s at least heard their names.”
“Yes,” Chase said, nodding. Wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, oracles, and witches. He mostly heard about them in stories, and was especially fuzzy on the details about those last three.
“A common mistake people make is thinkin’ these are all different things.” Tripp started drawing in the dirt with his finger. “When really, all magic is the same. It’s like a tree—just because each branch might look different, doesn’t mean they don’t all come from the same trunk.” And, in keeping with that metaphor, he drew a rough outline of a tree with five different branches. “All magics can work with each other, and there’s a lot of similarities in between them. For example, do you know the difference between wizardry and sorcery? They’re the two most well-known of the branches.”
“Um…if I’m being honest, I’d always been under the impression that wizardry was more powerful,” Chase said tentatively.
Tripp snorted in disbelief. “Some wizards would like to think that. But no. More varied, yes. But not more powerful. Here, it’ll be easier if I go over them all one by one.” He started to draw symbols by each of the branches, starting with a crude stick figure. “Sorcery is the most common magic besides witchcraft. It crops up in people at random. If you got twenty-five people in a room together, one would probably be a sorcerer, even if they didn’t know it. Its source is inside the person themself. And what it does is manipulate the world. Like…this.”
He pressed a flat hand against the ground next to him. After a moment, the dirt started to move. Then suddenly, pillars of rock shot through the dirt, rising from underneath the surface. Chase gaped as the solid stone started to twist, winding around each other to form a braid of rock. Then Tripp removed his hand, and the rock froze, as if it had never been moving in the first place. For a moment, Chase was stunned, then he managed to ask, “S-so you’re a sorcerer, then?”
“Exactly,” Tripp grinned. “Why d’you look so surprised? You said you knew sorcerers before.”
“Well…yes, but I hadn’t…SEEN their magic too much,” Chase admitted. He remembered one time when Gwen, the weaver’s daughter, had pulled water out of the well. It just streamed out of the depths and sailed right into her bucket. But occasions like that were few and far between.
“Hmm.” Tripp scrunched his face up, thinking. “Well, besides that. Each branch of magic has its strengths and weaknesses. Sorcery’s strength is that it comes from within. As long as a sorcerer doesn’t drain too much energy, they can use their magic forever. And its weakness is that you need a material to manipulate. Like just now, I reached down and pulled rock up from underground. But there’s a limit to the range where your magic can affect things.”
Chase nodded. “What about wizardry, then?”
Tripp sketched a rough outline of a necklace next to another branch of the tree. “Its strength is its variety. Wizards aren’t limited by what things are present, they can conjure out of thin air. But its weakness is in this: the ‘focus.’” He tapped the necklace drawing. “Unlike sorcery, wizardry doesn’t come from within. Wizards are channelin’ it from outside, from the layer of magic that coats the world. But to do so, they need a specially-made thing called a focus. It’s usually a necklace, ‘cause that’s handy, but it can be any shape, as long as it’s made the right way. These dragon bones, for example. They’d be real good to make focuses with.” He knocked on the nearest bone. “About one in fifty people are able to channel wizardry.”
“And now we reach the end of my knowledge,” Chase mutters. “What’s the next most common?”
Tripp paused. “Enchantment.” The image he drew in the dirt now was a misshapen lump. “Damn. That’s supposed to be a brain.”
“Ah. Right. Because enchantment is the magic of the mind, isn’t it?” Chase recalled, casting his memories back to the stories he’d heard that included enchanters.
“Hmm. Yea.” Tripp pursed his lips. “How do I explain them…Well, strengths. They’re the only magic that can work with your mind. Illusions, talking in your head, things like that. But as for their weaknesses, enchanters can’t change the world for real.”
“Is it true that enchanters can control your actions?” Chase asked. “There’s a story, the Dark Damoen—”
“The crazy old man who made Erinthold worship him as a god? That’s a famous one.” Tripp nodded. “Well, it’s true. Some could change your thoughts and make you do things you wouldn’t. But that takes a lot of power, and besides, most enchanters are decent people, like all the rest of us. It’s just that we remember the bad ones because they shock us. And only about one in a hundred people are enchanters, anyway. Don’t worry about it. There are a few Masked Phantoms who are enchanters.”
Chase nodded slowly. The thought of the old story sent shivers down his back, but he should probably trust the magic-wielder. He clearly knew more “What about…the oracles?”
Tripp drew a symbol of an eye in the dirt. “Those are the rarest one. You only get an oracle one in a thousand, if you’re lucky, and they’re not usually that powerful. You’ve probably heard that they issue prophecies of what’s to come, or that they might even be able to manipulate time itself. Well that’s all bullshit.”
“Wh—” Chase was so surprised at the frankness that he choked on his own gasp. After a few moments of coughing, he continued in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean?”
“Oracles can’t manipulate time, that’s the most insane rumor goin’ round about magic there ever was,” Tripp stated. “They get visions of what’s most likely to happen. It’s not for sure, and really, most oracles are wrong. But huge strength there, knowing the most likely future. And it comes with a big weakness. A couple, actually. One, they have to speak their visions out loud while it’s happenin’. It’s a magic…what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers for a bit. “Compulsion. That’s it. They’re literally forced to do it, can’t stop that. And two, the visions are all they can do. They have no other magic. And because of that, some say that oracles are cursed, not gifted.”
Chase thought about that. If he had the choice, would he take knowing the future for being forced to share it? Maybe. Maybe if he knew what could happen next, he could stop terrible things. Like…his heart panged, and he shied away from the thought. No, that didn’t sound too bad. People would also know what the future held, what of it? He’d take that risk.
“And the last magic,” Tripp said, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. “Witchcraft. It’s actually the most common.”
“Really?” Chase said doubtfully.
“I bet you’re goin’ by the stories, where witches are old people that stay in shacks and give out potions,” Tripp said, drawing a bottle next to the final branch. “But really, the magic of witchcraft isn’t in people, like all the others. It’s in the land. It’s part of the world’s magic. Plants with strange properties, the parts of magical animals…these can be mixed together to create amazing effects. And anyone could learn how to do it. In fact, most of us here have.”
Chase suddenly remembered earlier, how Nemet had put away some of the medicines during their meeting. It was because he didn’t know much about magic…“Wait, you mean anyone could make potions? Become a witch?”
“Well, not anyone,” Tripp muttered. “If you have magic of your own, you can’t learn witchcraft. The knowledge just slips away, and if we try anyway, nothing works, even if it should. You can’t use more than one magic. It’d be like tryin’ to hold onto every single branch of a tree.”
“If the tree was small, though?” Chase joked.
“It’s not. The magic tree is big, and the branches are the type where you need to hold on with both hands,” Tripp said firmly.
“Oh. I…see.” Chase cleared his throat. Clearly, using more than one magic wasn’t something to make light of. It was too impossible. “And…what about those seekers you mentioned earlier?”
Tripp was eager to move on. “Seekers are wizards that can sense the presence of magic. What’s supposed to happen is that these seekers are supposed to stop by every town twice every year. In practice, that’s faded away. Most towns only see them once a year, and the farther away you get from Suilthair, the less often you’ll see them. My town where I grew up, they came by every three years. But if you don’t know what they are, then…have you ever seen them?”
At that, Chase had a vague memory of a group of strangers visiting Hilltown when he was a child. They were dressed finely, and the image of an elaborate brooch one of them was wearing flashed in his mind. The next day, Hanson, an old friend of his, announced to all the kids that he was going away for ‘special school.’ “Not in years. Long enough for me to forget what they are.”
Tripp huffed. “I bet it’s not worth the effort to come all the way up here. Bunch of nambies.” He rolled his eyes. “Seekers are employed by the royal family. They find young magic-wielders and offer to give them schoolin’, to learn how to use their magic. Schoolin’ that’s funded by the crowns. It’s not required—I never went—but it’s encouraged. Otherwise you might end up having magic shootin’ out of your—”
“Is that why most wizards side with the King?” Chase asked, remembering what Henrik said about the source of the village fire.
“Part of it. But wizards especially have a reason to keep on the King’s good side.” Tripp paused. “Those focuses I told you ‘bout, that wizards need to use their magic? The crowns fund the makin’ of those, too. And the sellin’. And everything about them.”
“Oh.” Chase’s eyes widened with realization. “So…if a wizard decided to oppose the King, then there’s a chance that…they wouldn’t have access to a focus anymore? And…their magic?”
Tripp nodded. “That’s why most of us magic-wielders in the Phantoms are sorcerers and a few enchanters.”
“No oracles?”
“Oh, elders, no. You heard how hard they are to find. Wish we had some, though. That’d be helpful.” Tripp stretched his arms, then stood up. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. You got it all?”
“I think so, yes,” Chase said slowly. He looked up to the sky, mentally reviewing everything he’d heard. Sorcery, wizardry, enchantment, oraclulary, and witchcraft. All very different, all with things they could do and limitations that slowed them down. That made sense. He nodded to himself…and then noticed the position of the sun. “Shit!” Chase shot to his feet. “It’s noon! I have—after lunch, I—”
“More meetings, huh?” Tripp raised an eyebrow, then pulled his ram mask back on. “Let me guess…Lukas and Holly? Better hurry, Brodyson. Not good to be late for those two.”
.............................................................................................
Chase swung by the cooking fires to grab some food, then hurried over to the combat fields, along the dragon’s wings. Originally, he wondered if the wing bones would get it the way, but apparently the dragon had died with its wings spread out as far as they could be, leaving ample room in between the bones. The packed dirt was lined with targets, crude dummies made of sacks of hay tied to sticks, and racks of wooden training weapons. Occasionally there were random chests or tents set up to create obstacles to fight around. As he ran out onto the fields, he passed many people, some sparring in groups, others practicing on their own. None of them paid him any mind.
Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure where to go. The fields took up all of the space cleared by the wings, which was, as it turned out, quite a lot. Maybe he should have asked Henrik for descriptions of the people he’d be meeting with. Feeling his nerves eating away at his stomach, he turned to the nearest person, and asked, quietly, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lukas and Holly?”
The person turned around, looked down at him, and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the new one!”
“Um…yes,” Chase said slowly. It was just now occurring to him how…big this person was—this woman was, actually, judging by her voice. She towered over him, and her sleeveless tunic showed off the muscles of her tattooed arms. Strange to be wearing no sleeves in the chill mountain air, but she probably wasn’t bothered.
“I’m Holly.” Her smile widened. “Daughter of Rose.”
“Oh!” Chase blinked. That name didn’t fit her at all. But alright, he wasn’t one to say anything. “Chase, son of Brody.”
“Lovely to meet you.” Holly grabbed his hand and vigorously shook it. She wasn’t wearing her mask, but it hung around her neck. A bear. And the symbol on its forehead was the same as the one on Jackie’s wolf mask: a circle with two dots inside. “Me and Lukas, we’re in charge of combat up in Wyvernlair. Speaking of which…” She turned around. “Luke! He’s here!”
Chase leaned around Holly to look at who she was addressing…and suddenly felt cold, despite his jacket. Now he remembered where he heard that name before. While he’d been sick with the shivering in the infirmary, he’d overheard a conversation between Jackie and a man in a fox mask. That man had wanted to throw him out of camp, but Jackie had refused…and now, Chase was staring at that very same man.
“I can see that,” Lukas said shortly. He was facing a series of targets, and didn’t turn to look at Holly and Chase. Instead he merely took another arrow from a quiver on his back, nocked it on his bow, and shot. The arrow flew straight into the center of the farthest target, which was barely the size of a hand spread wide.
“No you can’t, you didn’t even look!” Holly scowled, and turned back around. “Sorry about him, Chase. He’s been snippy.”
“Well I wouldn’t BE snippy if I hadn’t been standing out here for an hour, waiting for someone who didn’t bother to show up on time,” Lukas snapped.
“I’m not an hour late,” Chase protested weakly. Even behind the fox mask, Lukas’s expression was twisted with frustration and annoyance.
“It’s a matter of principle,” Lukas said, finally turning to face Chase. When he did, Chase noticed the symbol on his mask for the first time: an X, with a dot to either side.
“Let’s just get into it,” Holly said, folding her arms. “Now, Chase. You’re a hunter, yes? So you have some experience with shortbows.”
“I can shoot, yes,” Chase agreed. “But I’ve never heard the term ‘shortbow’ before.” Lukas rolled his eyes, a motion that was partially hidden by the mask but still visible enough for Chase to catch.
“It means a smaller bow, in comparison to Lukas’s massive beast of a longbow over there.” Holly gestured towards Lukas’s bow; it was almost as tall as him. “Shortbows are better for mobility and closer range, while longbows are more suited for staying stationary and shooting long distances.”
“Ah.” Chase nodded. That made sense; bigger bows were more powerful, but also harder to draw back and move around. Amabel once tried to shoot Chase’s own bow when she was seven, and couldn’t pull the string even a little.
“I’m assuming you’re a fairly good shot,” Holly said, rubbing her chin. “So you’ll probably need to work with me more. I’m in charge of close-range combat, while Lukas handles the long range, with bows. So if we’re to—”
“Hold on a moment, Holly,” Lukas interrupted. “I want to see what he can do.”
Holly shot Lukas a dirty look. “There’s no need—”
“Of course there is. We should know what our starting point is.” Lukas turned and walked towards a nearby weapons rack, picking out a smaller shortbow and a quiver of matching arrows. He headed back to the others and thrust the tools at Chase. “Show me how well you hunt.”
“…alright. I will.” Chase took the bow and quiver slowly. He didn’t like being tested, especially not when the test was proposed by a man who clearly thought he was some sort of spy for the King and might be looking for an excuse to kick him out. Should he pretend to be worse than he actually was? No, that would just be complicated. He’d shoot normally.
He stepped up to the place Lukas had been standing, facing the targets, and strapped the quiver onto his back. For a moment, he examined the bow. Solidly built. Looked newer than the one he used back home. And had these odd curves…was this a recurve model? He’d heard of them, but never used one before.
“Soon, please!” Lukas called.
Holly promptly hit him on the back of the head. “Take your time, Chase! Don’t worry!”
Chase nodded. His mouth was suddenly very dry. But he swallowed his nerves, adjusted his stance, and nocked an arrow. He hit it against the back of his head in the process of taking it out of the quiver—not being used to wearing it on his back—and glanced back at the two watching to gauge their reactions. Holly looked supportive, but Lukas was unreadable. He looked away again.
There were ten arrows in the quiver and ten targets set up in front of him. He must need to hit all of them. So he drew back, aimed, and let loose the arrow.
Ten arrows.
Five of them hit the closest targets. Two of those hit their target’s center.
One hit the edge of one of the farther targets.
The remaining four missed.
Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned back to Holly and Lukas.
“Wow. That was the most utterly average thing I’ve ever seen,” Lukas said bluntly.
“You hit more than I can!” Holly said positively, giving him a short round of applause. “That’s great!”
Chase nodded silently. “I…I’m not used to this bow.”
Lukas hummed. He went to collect the arrows, giving Chase a side-eyed look as he walked past. It seemed as though his suspicions hadn’t been assuaged. If anything, he looked even more wary.
Holly walked up to Chase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Chase promptly lost his balance from the force of the contact, and Holly helped him right himself. “Sorry about that,” she said. “And sorry about Lukas. He’s just…he has a hard time trusting people. I’m sure you’ll win him over.”
“It’s fine,” Chase said distantly. “I mean, not everyone’s going to immediately welcome someone new into a group like this. You need to keep secret. There are risks.” Still, Lukas’s distrust, combined with his mediocre shooting skills, left him feeling a bit down. Like a cloud passing over the sun, everything just seemed…disappointing.
Lukas returned, arrows in hand. “Do it again,” he said.
“Elders and Sisters, Luke, we don’t have all day,” Holly protested.
“He needs to practice,” Lukas said, stone-faced.
“He needs to start with me! You can’t handle all your problems from a distance, especially in our situation. What’s he to do if a King’s man jumps him from behind and all he has are arrows?”
“It’s fine,” Chase repeated. He rubbed his arm; they hadn’t given him an arm guard, and despite the jacket fabric, his skin still stung from the bow string. “We have until dinner.”
Holly gave him a look, but sighed and stepped back. “One hour of shooting, then it’s my turn.”
Lukas nodded. “Deal.”
Chase sighed a bit, and took the arrows from Lukas. It was turning out to be a long day.