Drakonika (Book 1) (30 page)

“
Are you sure? Is your arm broken?” Fjalldís kept asking questions swiftly, as though she didn't even hear the coldness in his voice. She reached towards his elbow, but Darius flinched back. “What's wrong? I just want to take a look at it.”

“
I said I'm fine,” Darius retorted.

Fjalldís gave him a mildly shocked look, “I just wanted to help.”

“I don't need your help.”

“
That means you do. Let me see,” she said, growing a little impatient.

There was no chance for Darius to avoid this. Fjalldís pulled up the sleeve on his left arm with one quick move. For a moment, they both fell silent.

“I can see you were quick to tend the wound,” she said, as she surveyed the worn bandage on his arm suspiciously. It clearly wasn't the injury she was looking for. This was something else.

“
That's just... I fell recently,” Darius lied again.

“
Like you did now?” Fjalldís said in a doubtful tone which gave Darius a scare that she might have understood what he was doing in her window, but then her expression suddenly cleared. “No wonder, when you climb the houses all over the town. Where will you climb next time? To the highest tower of the citadel?” She shook her head in disbelief.

Darius hated to act stupid, but the truth was even sillier. He didn't say anything, leaving her under the impression that she was right about what she had said. Then the darkness was cut with a light so bright he had to cover his eyes.

Their faces were now lit with a white magick sphere that was floating above Fjalldís' palm — further investigation of the injury required more light. Darius' left arm was wrapped in a bandage from the wrist to the elbow, but there was blood right above it. “Take a seat,” she advised him, pointing at a wooden bench nearby. “I'll take care of it. You're going to be fit for Aedan's lessons tomorrow.”

Darius sat down and groaned again, Fjalldís slumped on the left beside him. The bright white light gradually transformed into a mild, gentle green one which was very soothing for the eyes. As she raised the light closer to Darius, he flinched again.

“What's the matter with you? How can I tend the wound if you don't let me put the healing energy closer?” she asked in a slightly reproving tone.

For a moment, Darius gazed at her with a perplexed expression. Then he finally recovered. “Oh... oh! So you won't... physically... touch me?” he stammered nervously.

“No. Why? You wanted me to touch you?” Fjalldís said, looking at him suspiciously.

“
NO! No, of course not,” Darius blurted out, and even though it was another lie, he seemed to be relieved. The nightmares had still been bothering him.

Fjalldís looked completely confused now. She dived into her work and placing her hand above the wound, she let the green light penetrate his skin. The pain and bleeding stopped within a minute.

Darius, who was avoiding the light before, couldn't help gazing directly into it now. He didn't even realise it, but the healing light felt so relaxing it made him put aside all his malevolent thoughts. “How come you opened your eyes exactly when I was...
just
climbing over
your
house?” he asked cautiously, especially careful at the end of the sentence.

“
Well, I felt someone watching me in my dream and it made me open my eyes,” Fjalldís said, but she kept watching the healing process.

“
That's quite interesting. I think you have a great talent,” Darius said. He had no idea how this slipped out of his mouth, but it was already out.

Fjalldís smiled faintly and for a moment she looked up to him. “Thanks, you too.” Then her eyes darted back to the light.

“I hope so. I want to become a powerful warlock,” Darius slipped. He had no idea if revealing his secret to her was wise, but he wanted to tell her so much that he just couldn't help it.

However, Fjalldís didn't seem to be very pleased. “A warlock? That's scary.”

“What? Why? It's gonna be great,” Darius said quickly, trying to think of all the advantages that becoming a warlock could bring. “I'll have my own castle, everyone will respect me and I'll master all schools of magick, including the dark ones,” he said proudly, trying to make it sound as impressive as possible.

“
And there will be a great bounty on your head,” interjected Fjalldís. “Haven't you heard of the warlock Sargir? He didn't enjoy that respect from others for long. The King decided to lock him away. Despite Sargir's magick, there was no way he could defeat the whole army. He's imprisoned till this day and I don't think they are ever going to release him. He went mad from the power,” she said quite calmly, but Darius suddenly felt rather insecure with the idea of becoming a warlock. He surely didn't want to go insane! “But the most cruel and malicious of all warlocks in Aria was Dazzler. He was once the King's advisor and a trusted wizard, but then something happened and he took the side of evil. His dangerously powerful magick brought dread upon the entire Kingdom and the King had to announce a bounty on his head. Many good fighters and mages died in a battle with him. One day he simply vanished. Some people think he still lives, others think he was killed. But if that's true, why had no one come to claim the prize? It has been a few years since Dazzler disappeared.” At these words she paused for a while, as though waiting for Darius to say he had changed his mind. But when that didn't happen, she told him, “I don't think that's the future you want. You have talent in magick, you could help a lot of people. And you can cook better than anyone I know. Where did you learn how?”

Darius was disappointed. Instead of praising him for choosing such a great way of life, she completely turned it down and now she was asking about cooking. Yes, she had brought some doubts into his mind, but he still felt that becoming a warlock was the right choice for him. “Before I was sent by the King to Sinei, I was helping an old man in a tavern's kitchen as far back as I can remember. In return, I had a bed and food and I had to take care of the rest on my own. I used to ask him why he was spending all his time with boring cooking, when there were adventurers out there, earning their living with exciting journeys and killing monsters. He always told me that his work was an adventure as well and that he also had his helmet and armour.” For a moment, Darius remained in thought. Then he added, “But I still don't know why the King himself has sent me here.”

“No one knows that, I guess. But I think that all of us have been sent here by the King, and for the same reason, whatever it is,” she said evenly, gazing into the green light.

“
All of us, except for Maren and Magnus,” Darius gibbered so quietly that Fjalldís couldn't hear it.

“
By the way, where did you learn that spell you cast in Ragna? That was really something. Did you study elsewhere before you came here?” Fjalldís said with a curious look.

It seemed that Darius was happy to hear such praise about his magick skills, even more so when it came from Fjalldís. “No, I didn't have money for that. I don't know, it feels completely natural to me. It's almost as if it was happening on its own,” he said mildly.

Fjalldís smiled, but Darius couldn't see it, because he was looking away. “Okay. It's done,” she said, when the green light slowly changed back to white and the wound had disappeared completely. There was no sign of the accident he had that night. “What do you think?” she asked brightly, enjoying her healing success. Their faces were still lit by the white light floating above her palm.

Darius groped at his left arm. When he looked at it, his expression broke into amazement
— there wasn't a single scratch above the bandage. He pored over his arm for a while, then turned away again as he slowly pulled the torn sleeve of his black jacket down. He was about to ask for another favour, but then he realised that Fjalldís had done enough for him already. He couldn't ask her to fix that torn sleeve as well. “Thanks,” he said a little bashfully, gazing into the darkness.

Fjalldís didn't mind that he wasn't looking at her while saying it. It was great progress nonetheless. “My pleasure. I like to help others,” she said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Darius said, sounding slightly guilty. In that moment he had to agree with General Xanthar — Fjalldís didn't deserve the visit at the police station. He remained silent for a while. It seemed he was hesitating to say his next words, but in the end he did. “It looks like you have learned a lot from the witch doctor,” he said casually, as if it was information that everyone knew about her. But this was something that only Aedan and Zimbadur would have known — if all the novice files were still safely hidden in the drawer on Aedan's desk.

“
W-what?” Fjalldís said in a startled tone, gaping at him. “How... how do you know that I lived with a witch doctor?” she said, sounding utterly excited and leaned closer to him, expecting a shocking answer. Obviously she thought that he had some extraordinary abilities, just like Magnus.

“
Ehm...” Darius paused, thinking frantically about what to say. She finally thought that he was cool and he certainly didn't intend to ruin it. Therefore he let out another lie. “I'm not sure... I guess I'm a seer,” he said as convincingly as possible. But he had to change the topic immediately, because he didn't have answers for any further questions of this kind. And without Viktor shuffling around, it was the best opportunity to say what was on his heart. Well, at least partly.

“
Listen... I know we didn't have the best start,” Darius said, as he finally looked at her face, but Fjalldís interrupted him.

“
You're quite right about that,” she said and gave a bitter laugh. That wasn't very encouraging, but Darius decided to continue.

“
But I'd like to apologise for that. And I think that maybe we could just... start all over again. What do you think?” he asked quickly, as though he was afraid that if he loitered, he would lose the courage to say it aloud.

The answer to his offer was a broad smile on Fjalldís' face. “That would be nice. I am Fjalldís Fyrdóttir,” she said happily.

At that point, Darius' confidence seemed to have risen again. He swung his arm over the back of the bench and in that moment he completely forgot about everything that Viktor had told him that night. With the words “Darius Thorsson” he returned her a benign smile.

That was the first time she saw an honest smile on his face. A moment of silence ensued and just when Darius was about to ask Fjalldís if she would like to cook with him in the morning, a heavy breathing made them look up.

“And I'm your Fairy Godmother,” Aedan growled, his scary face illuminated from the glowing sphere.

After the night incident, when Aedan caught Fjalldís and Darius outside long after the lights-out, he decided to tighten up both safety measures and the study program. He had enough of misbehaving novices who didn't respect any rules and who he had to chase with his precious druid staff to study. It was time to make them advance to apprentices whose abilities and skills would get the interest of other guilds. Then he would finally be able to toss them on somebody else's neck — except those who above all else desired to become well-educated druids, of course.

The druid expeditions in nature were almost an everyday matter. The novices had learned the basic druid spells, including herb magick and even entangling the enemy with a plant which was the spell that Darius was so good. It was then when they learned that it was actually a defensive spell and not an attack spell. Save those who entangled themselves
— like Lars for example — they did quite well. Another useful spell their teacher had taught them was to temporarily turn themselves or others into an object that could be easily overlooked in the forest. But the most excited of all novices was Maren, who was overjoyed that she could finally do what she was born to do — real magick, although it turned out to be much more difficult than she thought. Magnus was strictly forbidden to train in the presence of others — you can surely guess why.

Beside the practical part of their training, there was also the less favourite one
— theory, thanks to which they had to spend several hours in their dungeon study rooms each day and sometimes they were leaving from there straight to bed. No evenings were more cruel and boring than these. But what was even worse — Aedan was doing patrols, walking outside their study rooms like a hungry wolf, which eliminated all possibilities to sneak out.

The green robes of Mother Nature gradually changed into golden and red ones and the novices were slowly turning into suitable apprentices. Aedan was teaching them all he knew and the training was truly intense. It appeared the best way to teach them was to leave very little free time
— or even better — no free time at all, because it minimised the opportunities for any riots. Many of them had the feeling they had lived in Sinei much longer than they actually did. Maren and Fjalldís were no exception.

“
One... Two... Three!” the two girls shrieked, as they radically swung the door of Magnus' room open and with merry laughter they bounded in — without any warning.

Magnus clearly wasn't ready for something like this. Although it seemed he was all dressed up, he instantly covered himself with his blanket.