This story is taken from Nedrak scripture, specifically from the First Book of Nedraika. The First Book of Nedraika tells of the creation of the world, as well as the beginnings of the Nedrak people, culture, and religion. Nedraika is only one of the many religions found in Khartan, and this is their creation myth. It is by no means the only story; neither is it necessarily the “right” one. Many other cultures—particularly other Dragonblood cultures—have very similar stories, though they may differ on many key details. Most, however, contain some incarnation of the Seven Dragons— for example, Dwarven mythology calls them the Seven Dwarven Lords. The following is the Nedrak Creation Myth.

Gaia was to have many children, and first among them were the Dragons, The Seven to whom she would entrust her creation.

First there was Sephis, the Silver Dragon, god of balance and the underworld. He was eldest of the Dragons, charged with keeping balance and order among the gods, and given dominion over all that does not walk the Earth. His domain was to be called Haelos, the realm between Life and The Void.

Next came Arlos, the Gold Dragon, god of the sun and courage, and his sister, Camnea, the Black Dragon, goddess of the moon and wisdom. Together they were the night and day, the guiding hands of fate. Together they were more powerful than Sephis, but Gaia cleverly created them as a pair, brave and wise, so they would aid their older brother rather than challenge him.

Then came Rivis, the Blue Dragon, god of the sea, justice and vengeance; Vessa, the White Dragon, goddess of the wind, innocence, and piety; Saurus, the Green Dragon, goddess of the forest, fertility, and rebirth; and Karloth, the Red Dragon, god of the mountain, strength, and fortitude. They were the four of the Earth, and brought with them the changing seasons. They often quarreled, and Sephis would have to step in at times to arbitrate their disputes and restore balance among them.

Gaia was pleased with her children and her world, and created a host of plants and animals to fill it and share in her Life.

The Dragons ruled over their mother’s creation for a time, but were not content. When Gaia asked what troubled them, Sephis spoke for The Seven:

“The plants and animals of the world respect and fear us, and they do not question our dominion over them. We thank you for your favor and sing your praises and marvel at your creation, but we are not fulfilled. There are none who love us as we love you¬—as all Creation loves you. You are Mother of All, and though the creatures of the Earth hold us up as your most favored children, they do not love us.”

“Is it not enough to know that I love you above all others?” Gaia asked them.

“You love us as a mother loves a child—as you love all who share in your Life—it is not enough.”

“Very well,” Gaia said. “Because I love you and you are worthy and deserving of all that you ask, I will give your children a place of honor and power and let them share in my Life. Your children shall be beholden to you; they shall love and worship you as you love me.

The Dragons thanked their mother and then were born the Nedraka, the Children of the First, most favored by the Dragons and their mother, Gaia, Life, Earth, and Mother of All.

I was pretty excited to get to Fantastic Creatures Wednesday morning—partially because I was looking forward to seeing Fallon, but mostly because I was proud of the use for a Pirouette I’d come up with and couldn’t wait to tell Lenis. On my way to class, I went over how I would explain it:

First, I would go over circular spellcasting—most of the other students should already have taken Magic Theory, so I wouldn’t have to spend too long on it. Next, I would explain the Pirouette lets—or makes— you feel everything, including magic itself. I wouldn’t be able to tell them about my first-hand experience, so I’d have to say I did some research on the internet or something. Some of them would probably have caught on by the time I reached my conclusion. “Damn, that guy’s smart,” they would think. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Lenis would smile and nod approvingly, glad to have such a bright student in his class—and a freshman, no less.

Fallon waved as I walked into the class’ handling room. “Hey, Freckles,” she said as I took the seat next to her. “You’re in a good mood this morning.”

“Yep,” I grinned. “I had a good day yesterday.”

She raised her eyebrows and gave me the “are-you-an-idiot-or-did-you-just-forget-yesterday-altogether” look.

“Okay, so I had a good evening yesterday. I’ve been in a good mood ever since the mountain.”

“Ah yes,” she mused. “I can see it now: ‘Telepath got you down? Well you’ll feel right as rain in no time, with new and improved Break-anArm!’”

“Hey,” I shrugged, “if it works, it works.”

“Good morning, class,” Lenis said as he entered the room. “Please pass your assignments forward and we’ll pick up where we left off on Monday.”

“Wait—so we’re not going over them in class?” I asked.

Lenis frowned and shook his head. “Why would we? We don’t have time to waste reviewing homework. If you want to talk to me after class, that’s fine—but right now we have a new beastie to attend to.”

I was utterly deflated. Sure, Lenis would still read it and be duly impressed, but I wouldn’t get to see it. Oh well, I thought. Maybe he writes good comments.

After all the assignments were in, Lenis called us to the front of the room where we gathered around the birdcage in the containment circle. The cage was covered, but it would have been hard to call it anything other than “birdcage-shaped,” and it stood atop something distinctly “birdcage-stand-shaped” (which was, in fact, a stand for birdcages.)

“I had wanted to get to this little beauty as a finale to the first class, but Bridget sort of stole the show. It’s just as well though; the Red-eyed Owl deserves a class all to herself.” He grinned. “She’s a particularly nasty one.” Lenis yanked the cover off the cage and, with a flourish, presented the Red-eyed Owl.

“Huh,” I said, which seemed to be the general reaction; the cage contained a small white owl, which happened to be acting exceptionally benign and unimpressive. Its small black beak and talons looked pretty sharp, but extremely delicate, like they’d break trying to catch anything tougher or more lively than a tube sock. It was hard to see how this thing could be “particularly nasty,” or even much of a pest, really.

“Hey!” Another Nedrak guy pointed at the owl. “Its eyes aren’t even red! Grab the wrong cage, didja Professor?”

Lenis glared at him. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Geddan. Geddan Praeggis.”

“No, Mr. Praeggis, I did not ‘grab the wrong cage,’ and if you’ll keep your mouth shut for two minutes, you might actually learn something.

“There’s a screen over the cage,” Lenis told the class. “So, for the time being, we can see her, but she can’t see us.”

I looked closer; there was a kind of silvery film hanging over the cage. I waved my hand right in front of the bird, just to make sure. Not that I didn’t believe Lenis, but I wanted to see it for myself.

“It’s Shawn, right?”

I looked up at Lenis and nodded.

“Great. You might want to back up a bit there, Shawn; I’m about to take the screen off and you don’t want to be there when I do.”

I jumped back a little too quickly and a couple of people giggled. “Easy now,” Fallon laughed softly.

“Hey, you never know,” I said. “That thing could explode or something.”

More giggles, but Lenis quickly brought the focus back on the owl. “Now,” he said. “It is extremely important that you don’t look her straight in the eye; she has a fun little mind-control trick, so you would be serving the will of a two-pound bird until something broke the line of sight, she released you, or she killed you.”

“That little bird couldn’t kill me,” the Cat girl protested.

“Maybe not, but she wouldn’t have to,” Lenis said darkly. “She’d just have you kill yourself—but not with a nice quick fireball to the face or a knife to your throat. No, she’s still a bird, and she doesn’t always think to have you use tools or magic she doesn’t use or understand. She would just say ‘kill yourself’ and that could default to ‘with your fingers.’”

A couple of students had gone pale and started backing toward the door.

“Relax,” Lenis said. “She’s a bird, but she’s not stupid; she couldn’t just start killing us, even if we did look her in the eye—she would at least need us to open the door first.” His lips curled in a wry smile. “Everybody ready?”

Fifteen pairs of eyes shot to the ceiling. “LOOK,” Lenis commanded. “You won’t see anything if you don’t look. Just focus on her feet if you’re worried about it; you’ll be able to see her eyes in your periphery.”

I kept my eyes fixed on the space a few inches away from her head as Lenis waved his hand, dispelling the screen. The owl immediately straightened to her full height and stood stock-still. Even though I wasn’t looking straight at her, I saw her eyes widening as a bright red streak coiled out from each pupil and spread outward.

The golden-brown owl-eyes were gone. In their place, glowing like drops of molten iron, were two maliciously empty red orbs. Now I saw the “particularly nasty” creature Lenis had been talking about.

“As you can see—or are too chicken-shit to see—the Red-eyed Owl, gets its name from its defense mechanism, which also happens to be its hunting technique. ” As soon as Lenis finished his sentence, the owl let out an ear-splitting shriek.

“Ah!” He smiled. “That would be part of the hunting technique, designed to draw the prey’s attention—“ He broke off in mid-sentence when a human girl stepped forward and, in one smooth motion, slapped the girl’s hand away from the cage latch, covered her eyes with his other hand, and turned her around to face the class.

“As you can see, it is quite effective, even when the prey knows better. In this case, the prey was our dear Elizabeth. Luckily, we are much smarter than the owl, and I am faster than Elizabeth, or we would have a much bigger mess to clean up. Elizabeth, you may sit down if you like.

“If this little monster had gotten out, it most likely would have told Elizabeth to attack one of us while it made a getaway. Either that or it would have told her to do nothing and killed her itself.”

Two more students stepped forward towards the cage. Lenis sighed. “Fallon, would you mind covering Mr. Praeggis’ eyes and turning him away from the owl? Thank you.” He quickly did the same with the half-elf girl coming from his right and sent her to go sit down.

“Now, the good news is that if you are killed by a Red-eyed Owl, you won’t really be conscious for it. That is to say, you’ll be conscious, but not aware of your body as part of you—it would be like watching someone else be killed.”

Another two students started to step towards the cage. “Oh for Gaia’s sake, people,” Lenis said impatiently. “You don’t have to look at it every time I say it would kill you.” He waved the screen back up, the bird relaxed, and the students stopped. “Really,” Lenis continued. “Use your heads; looking at it is how it kills you—that’s the last thing you want to do.”

I chuckled—he was right, but I completely understood wanting to see the thing you’re afraid of; if you can’t see it, you can’t stop it. Unfortunately, in this case, if you can see it, you can’t stop it.

“Now then, the last thing we’re going to do today is feed the little devil,” Lenis said. “However, those of you who do not wish to watch it eat will be excused—I want to encourage the students sitting down to consider this, and only stay if they are sure they want to. You will still be responsible for your normal field journal entry and assignment, which is to come up with a defense against the Red-eye other than simply avoiding its gaze. Here’s a hint: mirrors don’t work.

“Now, I would like to be clear that this is a one-time deal, and I would like all of you to try to stay as long as you can—if you don’t see, you can never understand. And besides,” he said, looking around the room. “A little gore isn’t going to get you out of class time under normal circumstances—and in fact, blood and gore tend to accompany some of the most important lessons, wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Plainview?” Lenis asked.

“Mmm-mmm, entrails, sir.” Fallon licked her lips.

Lenis laughed. “You’re disgusting,” he said, shaking his head. “The reason today is different is that it’s not normal blood and guts; watching a Red-eye eat can be quite… unsettling.”

“You’re fucking right it is!” Fallon said enthusiastically.

“Ah,” Lenis said, “I see we have a volunteer. The rat will be so relieved that you’ll be taking his place. Or you could shut up. Either way,” Lenis shrugged. “Alright, everyone who’s leaving may do so now. See you all on Friday.”

Only a few of us stuck around to see the feeding: two humans, two half-elf girls, a Saurian, Fallon, and me.

“Glad some of you are still here,” Lenis said. “I’ll just grab the rat and we’ll get started.” He walked through a door in the corner of the room and emerged a second later, rat in hand.

“Stand back from the kennel,” he said, placing the rat on the floor inside the circle. “We’ll need a little more room than a birdcage for this.”

Lenis waved his hand; the carvings in the floor started to glow orange and a silvery film surrounded the containment circle. “The orange light means the kennel’s active and the animals can’t leave,” he explained. “I’ve also put the same screen around the kennel that I had on the owl’s cage—we wouldn’t want her getting distracted from the task at hand, would we?” We shook our heads.

“Alright then,” he said. “Here we go.”

With a flick of his wrist, the owl’s cage door sprung open and she shot out, flew around the circle, and landed back on top of her cage.

For a minute, nothing happened—the rat sniffed at the floor, completely oblivious to the owl perched less than ten feet away. Then she noticed him; her back went stiff, her eyes widened and turned red, and still the rat didn’t notice.

Then she let out an ear-splitting shriek. The rat froze and looked up.

I held my breath as they stared at each other, then the rat relaxed and walked towards the cage.

“No, stop,” the girl to my left hissed. “Run away, she’s gonna eat you.”

The rat stopped below the cage and, without taking its eyes off the owl, turned over onto its back and lay still.

“No no no,” the girl pleaded under her breath.

I felt bad for her—she knew what was going to happen but couldn’t do anything to stop it. At least the rat wasn’t conscious of what was happening to it and wouldn’t feel any pain.

I didn’t have long to think about it though, because the Red-eye had silently swooped down next to the rat. She kept her eyes locked on the rat’s as she stepped up to it and calmly pulled a talon across its belly, spilling blood and intestines onto the tile floor.

“Oh goddess.” The girl covered her mouth and quickly left the room. I couldn’t blame her; seeing the rat let itself be disemboweled like that was enough to turn anyone’s stomach.

“Oh Gaia,” said one of the guys. “It’s still alive.”

He was right. The rat was still breathing and still had it’s eyes fixed on the owl, even as she pulled it apart. The Red-eye was using her talons to tear the rat into bite-sized pieces and lift them to her beak—I assume so she wouldn’t break eye contact.

The gore was disgusting, by all means, but the really disturbing part was how calm both owl and rat were during the whole ordeal; there was no savagery, no animalistic hunger or panic, just… business.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the rat shuddered and went limp, leaving the owl to tear into it without having to maintain control—though her eyes stayed red until she had finished. She then returned to her perch on top of the cage and set to work cleaning the blood off her pure white feathers.

“Class dismissed,” Lenis said quietly.

Thanks for reading, everyone, and special thanks to those of you who have reviewed CotF at the Web Fiction Guide (I will update the bonus points shortly).
Rock on. \m/

“Oh, Shawn, I almost forgot,” Retis said. “I called Fallon while you were napping and told her we were here.”

“You got her on your psylink?” I asked as we left the health center.

“Yep. Quick, too—apparently she made a pretty strong impression last night because it had no problem finding her. She said she’d be by soon as she got off work at five… which is about now, actually.”

“And there she is,” said Roo, pointing.

Fallon was jogging toward us, her hair bouncing off her head like rubber. I smiled; she wasn’t the most graceful runner, but she was very… bouncy.

She ran straight up to me. “What happened? Are you okay? Give me your hands.”

I smiled and pulled my hands out from her grasp. “I’m fine,” I said. “Really. Thanks for coming to see me, though.

“Thank Retis for calling me—I really appreciate it.”

He waved it off. “No problem,” he said.

“But you.” She pointed at me. “You had me worried sick! What actually happened?”

“It was nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “Just a little scram accident.”

“Nothing?” she exclaimed. “Retis said you fell off a mountain!”

I shot him a look. “Heshould have told you I fell off a mountain but that I was okay—all I got was a concussion and a broken wrist.”

Retis shrugged. “Hey don’t blame me,” he said. “She was at work.”

“And you were still unconscious when he called,” Pebbles pointed out.

“I’m sorry,” Fallon said, turning on Pebbles. “I don’t think we’ve met. Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Fallon, this is Pebbles and her friend Derrick. Pebbles is captain of the scram team.”

“Nice to meet you, Fallon.” Pebbles said, shaking her hand. “Derrick and I were meeting the boys for some practice when Shawn had his little tumble.”

“Is that right? Well if you’re captain, shouldn’t you have kept him from hurting himself? Isn’t that your job?”

Fallon’s tone surprised me, but Pebbles was unfazed. “Yeah, right,” she laughed. “Like anyone could keep Shawn from hurting himself. Still, it would have been good bit worse if Derrick hadn’t been there.”

“Wait, really?” I looked from Pebbles to Derrick. “I didn’t hear about this, what are you talking about?”

Pebbles looked at Derrick for a second. “Oh come on, if you don’t tell them, I will,” she said. Derrick shrugged. “Alright fine, I’ll tell them,” Pebbles said in exasperation. “You kept going after you hit your head, but Jarn and I couldn’t get to you fast enough. You rolled down the rockslide and over a ledge sticking out of the mountain. You would have fallen a good forty feet and landed on pointy things if Derrick hadn’t been there to catch you.”

“You… caught me?”

“Well not with my arms,” Derrick said with an awkward smile. “Telekinesis. I just helped you fall slower and onto the grass.”

“Wow,” I said. “Thank you—I didn’t even know.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “If it had been hard I wouldn’t have done it.” He smiled again.

“Well thanks anyhow,” I said. “I owe you one or ten.”

“I’m glad somebody was looking out for your well being, since you sure as hell don’t,” Fallon said.

“I know, right?” Pebbles laughed. “Not only does he not look before he leaps, he doesn’t even bother to land first. You know, Shawn, for a smart guy, you can be dumber than dirt.”

Fallon laughed. “We just have to watch out for clumsy lil’ Freckles, don’t we,” she said, pinching my cheek.

“Alright, that’s enough Shawn-bashing,” I said, slapping her hand away.

“Yeah, I’m bored,” Retis said. “Let’s head back.” He started walking with Roo and Jarn, but stopped. “Hey Pebbles,” he called. “You and Derrick wanna walk with us? I can tell you about my plan to usurp your place as captain.”

“Uh, sure,” Pebbles said, looking from me to Fallon.
I looked at Retis and mouthed, “Thank you.” He smiled knowingly and gave me a little nod.

Once they were out of earshot, I turned to Fallon. “You wanna take a walk? I’m still stiff from that rock they call a hospital bed and I need to move a bit.”

“Sure,” she said with a sly look. “And then you can explain what possessed you to go prancing off a mountain.”

“Alright,” I laughed. “Fair enough.”

We walked until we found a bench in the garden behind the Alchemy building where the Chem students grow most of their materials. It’s a pretty nice spot as long as you don’t wander into the garden’s “splash zone” (which should really be called the splash, stab, strangle, bite, poison, hypnotize, and/or impregnate zone.) The stone bench wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the garden was shady and secluded, so I wasn’t going to be too picky about it.

“Believe or not,” I said, “I think this bench is softer than that bed was.”

“Well you’re doing it wrong,” Fallon said, sitting down on the grass and leaning against the bench.

“Ah yes, silly me.” I slid down next to her and tried to think of something to say next, but she closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the bench, so I did the same.

We sat there for a few minutes, listening to the floriflies buzzing and the steady gurgle of a ratcatcher digesting its last meal. I was thinking that the ratcatcher sounded almost exactly like a stream, and how disgusting it was that I was enjoying the sound of a rodent being dissolved in acid. I was about to tell Fallon about it, but she spoke first.

“So, how about telling me what’s up with you?”

It took a second before I remembered what she was talking about. “Oh, that ‘prancing off a mountain’ thing?”

“Yeah,” she said, opening one eye to look at me. “That.”

“Well, it’s really what was up with me. I got over it a few minutes before the concussion.”

I told Fallon everything that had happened, starting with my morning’s fuck-you, take-no-shit attitude and going to Nedrak C&R expecting a fight with Verris. I told her about the Nagiri and the story I replayed in my head—how sad it was to see them in class.

We were sitting up now, and I could tell she was starting to lose her temper as I told her about Chris Eavesdropping on my thoughts during class. I asked her if I should stop. “It’s really okay,” I said. “I can just stop there.”

“No.” She shook her head and spoke through gritted teeth. “I want to hear everything.”

She nearly lost it when I told her how Chris had asked if I had horns, but she managed to keep her cool while I told her about Verris’ two-minute class. In the back of my mind I knew I shouldn’t tell her everything—that it was just going to make her angry—but at the same time, I felt like I had to tell her everything. Maybe I just wanted to justify my reaction by sharing it with someone who would get as angry as I did; maybe I wanted her to understand how I felt so she would know why I acted the way I did. Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen.

When I told her about Chris’ little “You sure showed him/don’t take no shit” routine, she snapped.

“Ooo,” she growled. “Where does that little fucker live? I’m going to murder him.” She was already on her feet, but I caught her wrist before she could storm past me out of the garden.

“Hang on,” I said, smiling. Why was I smiling? I hadn’t been trying to upset her, but I knew this was going to happen if I told her about him and I did it anyhow—and now that I’d gotten her all riled up, I wanted her to calm back down.

“Listen, if that little shit thinks he can just go around—“

“I know,” I nodded, “believe me. But there’s nothing you can do about it right now.”

“I can kick his ass, is what I can do,” she shot back.

“If you could find him,” I agreed, “sure. But that wouldn’t stop him. Pebbles is going to teach me to block him out—“

“Oh she is, is she?” Fallon broke in.

I laughed. “Yes, she is. Besides, if anyone’s going to kick his ass, it’ll be me. I can’t have you fight all my battles, now can I? First in the cafeteria last night, then this guy who’s giving me a hard time—I mean, let’s not forget who the damsel is here.

She smiled a little. “Well, yeah… But I can hit harder than you can.”

“Oh yeah?” I teased, standing up and giving her shoulder a little push.

“Yeah,” she grinned, and gave me a quick jab in the stomach.

“Oomph,” I grunted. “Okay, I give up, you win.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to kick your ass.”

“Sure, beat up on the injured guy, that’s great. I see how it is.”

“Oh quit whining, you big baby, you’re fine.”

“I fell off a mountain.”

“Pshh,” she teased. “Barely. More like a hill with rocks, really.”

“You weren’t even there!”

“And whose fault is that?”

“…What?”

“Exactly. But it’s okay,” she said softly. She leaned in closer and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. “I forgive you.”

My expression changed from confused to confused-surprised to confused-happy-dopey. “I’m, uh… you too…”

She smiled and backed away before turning to leave the garden.

“See you in class tomorrow,” she said, pausing at the gate on her way out. “Try not to hurt yourself between now and then, mmkay?”

“I’ll try,” I said, still in a daze. “Goodnight, Fallon.”

“Goodnight, Shawn.”

So chapter 18 is finally here, all the way in from the Fiction Farm. For those of you who haven’t heard via twitter or the blog, I recently finished out my last semester at Tulane University, and anxiously await my diploma. That means (hopefully) more time to write, which means more CotF: more chapters, more art(?), more stuff in general. Yay!

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Thanks for reading, guys.
Rock on. \m/

“Oh good, you’re awake, I’ll get the Medico,” Pebbles said, then disappeared into the hall. I couldn’t figure out why I was lying on a terribly uncomfortable bed in the student health center… until I realized I was still in my scram clothes.

“I fell off a mountain, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, kin, you did. Bounced on the way down too.” Retis smiled a little.

“Oh good. I’d hate to think I half-assed it.”

Jarn was there looking like he’d just killed my drake or something. “Hey Shawn,” he said. “I’m real sorry ‘bout gettin’ you hurt, yeah.” He looked so pathetic I almost laughed.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, sitting up. “You didn’t do anything—aahow” My head was throbbing and I was starting to feel ill. The way the room was spinning didn’t help, so I flopped back onto the bed. “Ow!” I cried out. “Shit!”

Retis chuckled; I’d let my arm fall a little carelessly, smacking my wrist against the stiff, rubbed-coated cushions. “Gaia, that hurt.”

“Broken bones tend to do that, I’m told.” A slender, incredibly tall woman walked into the room, with Pebbles right behind her.

“I’m Medica Lily,” the woman said. “Please try not to hurt yourself any further until after I’ve treated you.” She dropped her chart by the sink in the corner and bent down to start opening drawers. From her face and ears, I would have said she was at least half-elven, but I couldn’t help wondering how she’d gotten so tall with elven blood. I mean, she was every bit as tall as Pebbles, which would be impressive by human standards.

“But after you treat me,” I said, propping myself up with the pillow-shaped rock someone had left on the bed. “Then I can go back to thumb-wrestling with Giants, right?”

She glared down at me.

I smiled. “Thumb-wrestling with Giants? No? They’re really big… I’d be wrestling their thumbs…” She kept glaring. “Nothing?” I laughed. “S, what? You can make jokes but I can’t?”

“Apparently not,” she replied. She did have an excellent deadpan. “But I wasn’t joking. If you hurt yourself like that in the middle of my session, it could prevent the treatment from working, alter the healing process, or even skew the spell’s baseline and you’d end up feeling that broken wrist for the rest of your life.”

“No moving. Gotcha.”

Maybe she’s part Giant, I thought. That would explain how she can be so tall and still look elven. She stepped up to the bed and, towering over me, stuck a small, oval gem to my forehead.

“This is a Pulse Stone,” she explained. “It changes color based on your vital signs, energy level, and mental state. White means you’re fine, black means you’re dead. Anything else means something in between.”

What if she is part Giant? That would mean… Oh shit. I felt my face get hot. She thought I was making fun of her.

“What does it mean when it has brown dots all over it?” Retis was staring at my forehead.

“Usually it would mean he’s embarrassed about something he said or did,” Medica Lily told him.

Retis stared at her for a second, “You’re kidding, right?” He burst out laughing, “You mean he feels like a shithead?”

Jarn chuckled a little, but Medica Lily just rolled her eyes. “Never heard that one before,” she muttered.

“So these things are pretty accurate then, huh?” I said, a little louder than necessary.

“It would certainly take more than a concussion and a broken wrist to fool one, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I’m saying: These things are surprisingly accurate, even if the patient is rather thick-headed.”

She looked confused and annoyed for a second, but then it dawned on her. “Oh! Yes, I see what you mean.” She smiled. “Thank you. This is going to hurt. A lot.”

I didn’t even have time to ask what she was talking about before she grabbed my forearm in one hand and my wrist in the other. She pinned my arm down and then pulled, twisted, and wrenched my wrist back into place

*kreh-chik*

“BLOODY SEPHIS FUCK-SHIT!”

“There, the bone’s all set. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Sephis, Lord of Below, if you heard that last bit, please smite this woman…”

“Oh relax, the binding doesn’t hurt. Oh, and don’t move your arm or I’ll have to re-set it.” She went back to the counter and picked up a teardrop-shaped amber amulet, which she then carefully hung around her neck.

“I didn’t realize Medicos used amulets.”

I spun my head around to see who had spoken and winced as Medica Lily grabbed my arm, holding it in place. “No. Moving.”

I nodded and turned more slowly. Apparently, Derrick was here too—he was the one who’d asked about the amulet—but I hadn’t even noticed him until just now.

“The amulet’s an energy brace,” she told him. “We still do the magic ourselves, but as busy as we are, we have to use braces.” She stepped around the bed to position herself behind my head. “If we tried to treat everyone with our own energy alone, we’d have a bunch of Medicos passing out from spellstroke, and no one wants that.”

I was lying on my back, watching her upside-down as she placed her hands on the amulet and closed her eyes—focusing the brace. It began to glow and she opened her eyes.

“Alright,” she said, “Let’s get you un-concussed, shall we?”

“What about my arm?”

“I’ll get to it,” she said, and laid a hand across my forehead just above the Pulse Stone. “Always start with the simplest injuries—that way you won’t have to worry about them complicating things later on.” With her free hand, she touched two fingers to my temple—my brain started to tingle a little as the pain subsided.

“What does it mean when the thing glows blue?” Retis whispered. When no one answered, he nudged Pebbles’ elbow. “Is blue bad? What does—“

“Retis, hush.”

Medica Lily opened her eyes a minute later. “You are concussed no more,” she declared. “Just so you know, …Retis, was it? Just so you know, Retis, talking doesn’t bother me, but questions do. I wouldn’t be able to answer them without breaking my concentration, anyway.”

“Sorry,” Retis mumbled.

“It’s alright. To answer your question: the blue means that he’s healing. If it flashes after the treatment it means the healing was inadequate or incomplete. If it doesn’t glow at all, it means I’m not doing anything other than poke at him.”

“Oh.” Retis looked embarrassed. “Okay, thanks.”

Medica Lily did pretty much the same thing to my arm, but it was more tingly than before and lasted muchlonger.

“Alright,” she said, opening her eyes. “Your wrist is bound; it should be feeling better than it was, but it’ll take a couple hours for the pain to fade completely.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, sitting up to inspect my arm. “I mean, you fixed it; it shouldn’t hurt anymore, right?”

“Not exactly—I bound it, I didn’t fix it. For all practical purposes your arm’s as good as new, but I didn’t technically heal it. You’ll have to come back once a week to have the binding reapplied until your arm heals on its own. You can do everything you normally do, except that you absolutely must avoid anything that could remove the effect—spells, wards, enchantments, that kind of thing.”

“I think I can do that,” I said cheerfully.

“I’d tell you not to break it again, but the binding’s strong enough that I doubt you could break that wrist if you tried… Don’t try. The rest of your bones are still plenty breakable.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind, thanks Medic.” I started to slide off the table but she stopped me.

“Hang on, I’ve got to take your Pulse Stone for the file.” She leaned down to remove the oval gem from my forehead. She barely touched it before I heard her gasp and she snatched her hand away.

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t like the way she was looking at me—like she was expecting me to burst into flames at any moment.

She looked at me for another couple of seconds, then shook her head. “Nothing. Sorry, I thought I saw… I don’t know. It must have just been a reflection or something. Here, let me get that.” She removed the Pulse Stone and put it in a little bag attached to the chart she’d brought in with her.

“Alright, Shawn, make an appointment at the front desk… for your follow-up. Right, okay… see you next week.”

She seemed pretty distracted, which made me curious to know what she had seen in the stone, but not curious enough to make me want to stay in that room a second longer than I had to.

Naturally, I’m going to write an article (or piece, story, essay, whatever) about writing on the web, specifically webnovels and other webfiction (i.e. not just another thing about blogs). I think I’m going to focus on the growing community of readers and writers and see where that takes me. It might take me to the relationship with traditional media, or to the future of blogging, or somewhere completely different. I don’t know.

I do know that I’ll draw on my own experience, but that I’ll need more than that. I’ll need you.

I want to know what you read, why you read on the web, how long, ect. Basically, anything you think or feel about webfiction that you want to share would be great. Any little anecdotes about writing on the web would be greatly appreciated as well. (Don’t worry, I won’t quote anyone without permission. This is just to help me work out what I’m going to say.)

Thanks!

I wasn’t mad about Retis catching me with the Snare—I wasn’t even thinking about Chris and his Eavesdropping on my thoughts—I was just mad. I charged at the mountain like I was going to knock it over; I needed to burn some energy, and cliff-sprints were the best way to do that.

I never minded cliff-sprints that much when we had to do them in high school. Sure they were hard, but they were better than just running on the track. Really, it was half running, half climbing; you actually had to pay attention and think about what you were doing, which kept it interesting.

I didn’t even slow down as I reached the foot of the mountain. My legs worked on their own, finding footholds and driving me up the rock face while my hands snatched at whatever was within reach. I had to go faster, pull harder, take bigger leaps—I couldn’t let the mountain slow me down. No matter how fast I swung up to the next ledge or hauled myself over an outcropping, the next one had to be faster.

My hands were starting to get raw and I’m pretty sure I was bleeding from my knee, but I made it to the first peak in almost no time at all. Or it felt like no time, anyhow. I didn’t feel much better, so it couldn’t have been that long.

The peak was really just a “fishbone”—a long, thin ridge of rock separated from the rest of the mountain range by a sharp little valley. I would have had to climb down the other side of the fishbone and then back up to get to the actual summit.

By now, I’d caught my breath enough to stand up straight, so I jogged along the ridge a little way until I found a spot for my second cliff-sprint. It was a steep bank of loose gravel stretching from top of the ridge to a cluster of large boulders at the foot of the mountain. There were rough outcroppings of rock jutting out of the gravel all along the slide. “Perfect.”

I stood back from the ledge and took a deep breath—down would be faster. Much faster. I took a few steps and jumped.

The spray of gravel stung my shins, but I managed to stay on my feet by grabbing the gnarled shrubs and trees that grew out of the cracks and slapping at rocks as I shot past. Unfortunately, all the balance in the world wouldn’t help me change course—gravity had decided that I was going straight down, and the mountain had decided to put a boulder right in my way. Or maybe I should say the Druid Aerwyn had decided to put it there—either way, it was going to hurt.

The only thing I could do was try to jump at the last second and hit the boulder feet-first—maybe I would only get slightly mangled. I clenched my jaw and jumped.

It worked—I nearly ate it and my feet stung like hell, but I was alive. Still, I was going so fast that I nearly tumbled right over the boulder, which would have been almost as bad as hitting it. I had to jump to another rock before I lost my balance, and then another, and another, barely making it each time.

I started to get the hang of it after the first few boulders. I leapt from one stone to the next, swung around a little tree, skidding along the gravel slide or landing on another boulder, and on down the mountain. By now, I had completely forgotten I was supposed to be angry—this was way more fun.

I was exhausted by the time I got close to the bottom; my legs burned, but I felt strong—powerful, even. The slide ended with a huddled mass of craggy boulders—probably from the rockslide that left the path in the first place.

I slid down the last few feet of gravel to the end and—I don’t know whether it was because I felt so good, or because I saw people coming towards me and wanted to show off—I not only hit the crag foot-first, I ran up the side and flung myself off the top, twisting around in the air so I ended up facing backwards. It was pretty badass.

I pulled it off too… well, sort of. Sure, I got the full rotation in and came down feet-first but I didn’t stop there. Oh no, I give one hundred ten percent; any moron can do a flip and land on his feet, but only a select few have the dedication to completely over rotate and land on their ass.

Well, at least Retis appreciated my commitment. “Way to go, Windrider,” he laughed.

“You okay?” Pebbles asked.

I was laughing too; the fall had hurt, but it wasn’t all that bad. “Yeah, I…” I paused to catch my breath; it’s not easy to laugh, wheeze, and talk at the same time. “I feel much better, actually.” I looked up at her and smiled. “Thanks.”

“You’re bleeding,” she said, pointing to my knee.

“Eh,” I shrugged. “It’s just a scrape, no big deal.”

“That was pretty sweet,” Jarn said, “‘til you hit th’ ground. You gonna try it again?”

“Probably not that exact maneuver, no.” I looked around. “When did you all get here?”

“Not too long ago,” Pebbles said. “Some time between your trip up and your, uh… ‘trip’ down.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hilarious.”

“Thanks,” she grinned. “I thought so. Anyhow, Retis said you’d gone nuts or something, but it looks like you just needed to kick your ass a bit.”

No one else seemed to have noticed the emphasis on “you,” but I could tell from the way she was looking at me that it had been deliberate. I couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking—why would I need someone else to kick my ass?

“By the way,” she said. “Derrick, this is Shawn. Shawn, Derrick.”

He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t remember from where; his dark, shoulder-length hair, his pale skin and sleepy expression, the way he slouched without hunching his back—I felt like I’d seen him before, but couldn’t picture when or where. I didn’t even know that many humans at Raekos yet, so it should have been easy.

“So you’re the Nedrak scrambler,” he said. “Good to actually meet you.”

I remembered him the second he opened his mouth. “Oh, right, you were the guy sitting behind the scram table at the welcome thing. Nice to meet you, too.

“So now that I can breathe I think I’m gonna do that slide-thing again, this time without the barani at the end.” I turned to Retis, “You wanna try it?” I asked.

“Nah, kin. I’m not a mountain kinda guy—I’d end up in a puddle at the bottom whether I tried to climb it or not.”

“Well I’m goin’,” said Jarn. “Race you to the top? Onyermarkgetsetgo!”

He took off toward the rockslide and hopped easily onto the crag. Roo tried to follow him but fell short of the top and had to claw his way up. I didn’t even bother to try it—there was no way I could make that jump—instead, I leapt onto one of the smaller boulders and worked my way up from there.

Jarn took the early lead; he definitely had me beat on balance, agility, and rubber freak-leap, but I had spent years sprinting cliffs without a fifteen-foot vertical leap, so I knew what worked for me. Plus, I had a longer reach and much longer legs than he did, so while he took long jumps from rock to rock, I pushed and pulled myself up the mountain, only jumping when I had to. Jarn covered a lot more ground than I did, but it wasn’t always straight up the mountain, and I didn’t slow down and speed up like he did—I was going as fast as I could and I kept moving.

I passed Roo (who was following Jarn’s path up the mountain, but slower) and managed to catch up to Jarn after he made a few poorly planned jumps. We were basically neck and neck; Jarn would be winning one second, and I’d be winning the next—the way he was bounding ahead and then falling back when he landed made it impossible to tell for sure, but I’d bet that he was ahead, but just barely.

As we closed in on the finish, it looked like Jarn was going to win, but caught his foot on a root growing out of the rock, throwing him off balance. I saw him stumble, saw my chance to edge him out at the last second, and then saw Pebbles standing at the top, grinning.

I started to yell at her for being a smartass, but “Gai-damnit” turned into “Gai-ow-OH SHIT!” when I tried to vault over a rock, slipped, and skidded down the rockslide, smacking my wrist against something sharp—pain shot through my arm—and my head against something dull—the pain stopped and everything went dark.

That means that I’m in the theater for many many hours every night, which is when I’d usually be writing. I’ll probably have a good bit of downtime, so i’ll see what I can get done in that time, though I doubt seeing me bent over a pad of paper and ignoring my cues would inspire the Prof to be generous with my grade.

So, you could skip all that and just read this: I will do my best to get the next chapter up by Thursday, but it means working while the sun is up, so I can’t promise it wont take until the weekend. I will, as always, do my best to get it up as soon as possible and keep you guys updated if anything changes.

A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.
-Thomas Mann

As always, thanks for reading and for rocking. Hardcore.

I stormed out of the building, too pissed off to do anything else. Not only was I cheated out of my confrontation with Verris, but now I had some jackass poking around in my head. This was clearly not my day.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and fixed my eyes on the sidewalk as I stomped back toward the dorm. It wasn’t so much the invasion of privacy that bothered me, as the fact that I couldn’t do anything about it. Chris had no right to go poking around in my head. I suppose the short class was a blessing, but the way Verris had dismissed us had gotten under my skin—he clearly didn’t give a shit, but still expected us to.

Even if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own head, I probably wouldn’t have seen Pebbles sidle up next to me (she was kind of good at it).

“Hey there, squishy,” she chirped. “How’re things?”

“Been better,” I grumbled. “I had a rough morning”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She looked about as sympathetic as one can with four stony lips and no eyebrows. “Well, if you’re up for it, I was going to let you know that Derrick and I are gonna head to the gym in a couple hours—we said twelve-thirty, but knowing Derrick, that could mean anytime between noon and tomorrow.” She shrugged and gave a fond what-are-you-gonna-do smile (well, close enough, anyhow.) “You wanna round up the boys for a little scram? You all could use the practice.”

“Oh hell yes,” I sighed. “That’s exactly what I need: a chance to blow off some steam, maybe clear my head a little. Thanks.”

“You got it,” Pebbles grinned. “What’s got you so worked up, anyhow?”

“Ugh,” I groaned, “it’s this Telepath in Nedrak C and R; apparently he decided it’s okay to Eavesdrop whenever he feels like it. As far as I can tell, I’m the only one he’s interested in pestering. He just wouldn’t let up, you know? It wasn’t just that he was reading my thoughts—though that would be bad enough—he’s also just a plain old asshole.”

“Well, if he’s an undergrad, I doubt he would actually qualify as a Telepath; he’s probably just a Cognitive Arts major or— Oh shit.” She seemed to deflate a little. “It wasn’t Chris Savoy, was it?”

“Blond muckbag? Yeah. You know him?”

“Ugh,” Pebbles groaned. “We lived in the same hall last year and he was a prick then too. Especially to my friend Suzi; she had a class with him and not only did he bug her all through class, he wouldn’t even leave her alone in the dorm. He would ‘mysteriously’ pop up in the lounge whenever she was in there and constantly Whispered things to her. Grade-A asshole.”

“So if he’s been doing it so long why the hell hasn’t anyone stopped him? Cogni majors have to take that oath, right? Shouldn’t he be expelled by now?”

Pebbles shook her head. “He’s not a Cognitive major, just the dickhead son of Telepaths, so no oath. Worst he could be charged with is harassment, and telepathic harassment is a hard thing to prove.”

“Great,” I sneered. “So do I just have to kick his ass to get him to stop?”

Pebbles glared at me. “Yeah Shawn, that’s a good idea—pick a fight during your first week of college.” She leaned down to look me in the eye as we walked. “Don’t be an idiot.”

She kept staring at me until she was satisfied by my expression that I wasn’t going to “be an idiot.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked, feeling somewhat defeated.

“Well that’s the good news,” she said, brightening. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to want to keep their thoughts private, safe from prying third-eyes. In fact, psychic stealth and shielding are generally part of Feral’s basic training. I can give you a few pointers this afternoon, but you’ll have to get the rest from Feral.”

“If I make the team, that is…”

Pebbles laughed. “Oh shut up, squishy. You and I both know you expect to make it, you just have to not screw it up.”

I smiled a little. “Thanks, Pebbles. Really.”

“You got it, kiddo. Alright, I’ve gotta run,” she said, veering off the path. “See you at twelve-thirty!”

I stopped to knock on the Gibri’s door before heading back to my room. Roo answered; he said Jarn would be in class until twelve-fifteen, but he was sure they’d both be up for some scram.

Retis was in the room when I got there (at his computer, as always). “Hey kin, how was Professor Dickhead’s class?”

I told him everything that had happened, all the way up to talking to Roo.
“Damn kin, that sucks. At least we’ll get to scram a little, right? I have a class at four this afternoon, but that still gives us a good long time on the field.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Couldn’t have come at a better time, to be honest. I keep thinking I’m calming down, but then it all comes right back. Fucking muckbag…”

I tried to kill time by reading Walking Dunes: The History, Myth, and Legends of Ezifi Desert. Normally, I’d be sucked right in—especially given how little I know about Ezifi lore—but I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept drifting back to what had happened with Chris and how pissed-off I still was. Eventually, I gave up.

“Fuck this,” I said, snapping the book shut. “I can’t get my head on straight. I’m going to head over to the gym now, wanna come?”

Retis looked up with mild surprise. “Sure kin, just let me get my stuff together.”

I went and told Roo we were going over early.

“Ah, okay, no problem,” Roo said, probably a little confused by my impatience since I hadn’t told him what happened. “I’ma wait for Jarn t’ get back an’ we’ll come meet ya, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” I said, hurrying back to my room. “See you there.”

Retis and I pulled our stuff together and jogged over to the gym. I got a key to a pitch labeled “Deciduous Forest/Mountain 4,” which turned out to be an excellent choice.

We entered the field through the center judges’ box. This time the box overhung a fairly sizeable pond. A wide strip of grass separated the pond from the forest, giving us a clear view of the right-hand goal tower. The ends of the field were pure mountain—smooth, tan stone stretching upwards until it disappeared into the expertly sculpted clouds.

The dual mountain ranges nearly touched on the far edge of the field, fencing in the forest that dominated the middle of the pitch. The forest also separated us from the left goal tower.

“Race you to the left goal tower!” I shouted, sliding down the ladder and sprinting for the trees.

“You got a head start,” Retis called after me. Then, closer behind, he puffed, “Cheater…”

We tore through the forest—literally, in Retis’ case—shouting and cursing all the way through to the other side. All that was left was the long, sloping hill to the goal tower.

I was first out of the forest by a good bit, but as soon as Retis broke free of the brambles, he started gaining on me. I could hear his feet pounding into the soft earth behind me, steadily closing the gap.

Retis stretched his hand out as we closed in on the tower. He was ahead of me by nearly a foot, but at the last second I launched myself forward, diving for the tower. I beat Retis out by a fraction of an inch.

“No way,” Retis protested. “You weren’t even close.”

“I was there,” I panted, flopping down on the grass. “Why bother denying it? I won and you lost, end of story.”

Gold sparks whizzed past my face. “Oh, you wanna go?” I dared him, springing to my feet.

“Shield/Jolt/Stun like last time?” he asked, backing away from me.

“Nah,” I said. “The real thing won’t be all Shield and Stun; use whatever spells you want.”

“Sounds good.” Retis put his hand over his gauntlet and concentrated. “I think I’m gonna just go with Snare instead of Stun.”

“That’ll work,” I said. “But you shouldn’t have told me; now I’m ready for it. During the match, people usually try not to cast spells unless they have to. That way they don’t see you coming.”

“Gotcha. So I don’t suppose you’ll be telling me yours, will you?”

I gave him a sly grin, then set my glove with Jolt, Slam, and Shroud. “Ready?” I asked.

“One-two-three-go!” he shouted, flinging a Jolt aimed for my chest.

I rolled to the side and fired one back before charging towards him. I dodged the couple of Jolts he shot off before he remembered he had Snare. I had remembered he had Snare, which is why I charged straight ahead instead of working my way in slowly—I was trying to get as close as possible before he could stop me.

The Snare caught my ankle, yanking me to the ground. I tried to get up, but the spell wasn’t letting go, which made it hard to keep dodging Retis’ barrage of gold sparks. I was getting more and more frustrated as I struggled against the Snare; finally, after Retis landed three Jolts in a row, I’d had enough.

I cast Shroud to give myself a second to recover from the Jolts. Smoke billowed from my hand and quickly wrapped itself around him. I could barely see him through the smoke, but he couldn’t see or hear anything at all.

I got to my feet and heaved a Slam through the smoke, flinging Retis to the ground so hard that he bounced a little. I tried to move in while I had the chance, but the Snare still had my ankle.

“Gai-damnit” I shouted, shooting Jolt after Jolt at the invisible restraint.

“Damn…” Retis said, holding his head and walking toward me. “That was a hell of a shot.”

“Will you get this fucking thing off of me?” I spat.

“Oh. Yeah, kin. Sorry about that,” he said, releasing the Snare.

“You ready to go again?” I challenged him.

“Not quite—that really was a hell of a shot at the end there.” He looked at me warily. “Maybe you should try to calm down a bit before we do any more sparring. Pebbles and the others will be here soon and then—“

“Fuck that, I’m fine. I’m gonna go run some cliff-sprints until they get here.”

“Alright kin, just take it easy for a bit, okay?”

I rolled my eyes—what did he know? I just needed to blow off some steam and taking it easy wasn’t the way to do that.

]]> http://childrenofthefirst.com/main/archives/106/feed http://childrenofthefirst.com/main/archives/100 http://childrenofthefirst.com/main/archives/100#comments Fri, 24 Oct 2008 06:09:12 +0000 Alex McG http://childrenofthefirst.com/?p=100 So here’s a little bonus thing since I probably won’t have time to write the next chapter until early next week. I drew a rough map  for my own reference after the first couple chapters, and I’ve been thinking of doing a more polished version for a while now. I may do another in the future, or color this one, who knows? Thanks for hanging around, folks.

On a different note, I wanted to mention that there are now CotF banners and buttons (for links/what-have-you) available on the Support the Sitepage. I’ve also (just now) decided to give bonus credit for every new link using the images, so… yeah.

A few notes:

• Khartan is ruled by eight Lords, one from each major city (originally separate kingdoms.)
  Raekos is the capital city of Khartan.
• The Lord of Raekos is called the Seylord, and has marginal authority over the other lords—mainly as an arbiter.
• Urgoth is the Dwarven city-stronghold built into and under the Alin Mountains.
• The Alin Mountains separate Khartan from Alinea. Little is known of Alinea, as there are few who’ve had reason to cross the Alins, and even fewer who’ve come back.
• Shawn is from Rowyra
• Retis is from Stillbrook, a small town in The Vale
• Raekos University is, of course, in Raekos.

Thanks for reading, guys. Couldn’t do it without you. Well, I guess I could still write it… but that wouldn’t be much fun, would it? Seriously though, you guys rock.

I was in a foul mood from the moment I woke up. Part of it was what had happened in the cafeteria the night before and the dreams I’d had because of it (Retis making out with Brue, Brue making out with Fallon, Fallon dismembering Brue—okay, that last one was kinda cool, if a bit messy.) But the real reason I was in such a bad mood was that it was Tuesday, which meant I had Nedrak Culture and Religion. Which meant seeing Professor Verris. Which meant eating a nice big pile of shit. Not literally of course (at least I would hope not), but I couldn’t think for a second that he had forgotten what I’d said to him at the welcome dinner.

I walked to class as slowly as I could, but of course that only prolonged the agony. I could practically hear my father’s voice telling me to shape up. Face it like a man, he would say. Meet it head-on, admit your mistake, and accept the consequences. Be a man, Sha’anyr.

Even when he was miles away, my father was still hovering over my shoulder. “Fuck that,” I thought. “I’ll show him being a man. Verris can go suck a gob; I’m not going to kiss ass so that racist piece of shit will pass me. I don’t care if he was a count—he’s not anymore, and he’s still an asshole.

I stood up straighter with my newfound “fuck you” attitude. I started to walk faster, my steps becoming more emphatic. I scowled as I marched down the sidewalk; people gave me weird stares as I passed, but I didn’t care—I wasn’t taking anyone’s shit today.

I stomped into the room and up to the third row of seats, dropping myself down in the dead center of the small lecture hall. I glared at the chalkboard in the front of the room, determined to stay pissed off so Verris would see I wasn’t someone who could be pushed around or intimidated.

After three or four minutes of sitting there, staring at a blank chalkboard with my jaw clenched and arms crossed, I got bored and my mind started to wander. I took a look around the room: there were about fifty kids in the class, most of them Nedrak—as one would expect in Nedrak C&R. Except for a handful of Nagiri, the rest of the class was human (or close enough).

The human turnout made sense since they’ve never really had a problem with the Nedraka; humans stayed “neutral” during the Dragonblood Crusades, meaning they continued to trade with all sides and politely looked the other way when it got to the “genocide” bit. That didn’t exactly earn them a lot of love, but the Dragonbloods were too busy hating each other to worry about humans.

Seeing the Nagiri in class was a different matter; I wish I could say I was surprised to see them, but I was more sad than anything else.

Nagiri tend to be fairly tall and have a much slighter build than other Dragonbloods. Their long, thin necks arch back to support their undeniably serpentine heads, earning them the title of “snake-people” (though it was probably their voice that inspired “hissers.”) Everything about them is smooth and graceful—from their soft, round shoulders; to their barely perceptible hips; to the gliding, almost liquid way they move.

They would be beautiful if they didn’t all act like kicked whelps—always half-crouching, avoiding eye contact, constantly afraid of some unknown punishment. No, they are beautiful, but that just makes them even more tragic.

Of all the Dragonblood races, Nagiri are the least hostile toward Nedraka and have the best reason to hate us: we slaughtered thousands of them in the first battle of the Dragonblood Crusades, nearly wiping them out altogether.

While the Nedrak Knights were experienced Battlemages led by a group of seven incredibly powerful Archmagi called the Palatinus Drakon, the Nagiri were hunters and fishermen living in small tribes with no leader or organization. Historians now refer to that battle as the Keti River Massacre.

Well okay, to be fair, the Palatinus Drakon did demand that they confess to blasphemy, heresy, and sacrilege for their claim of Dragon blood, promising them safety under Nedrak rule… So at least they gave them a chance to give up their entire culture and heritage before the Nedrak Knights slaughtered them, right?

The Nagiri who survived were put to work for the Nedrak nobility. The lucky ones became farm hands or servants; the unlucky ones served in a more carnal capacity. The shock of being ripped from their homes had left them numb—their families were gone and their faith had been taken away; they had nothing left of themselves, nothing to hold onto. That emptiness never went away. They passed it on to their children, to their children’s children, because there was nothing to stop it.

I had been watching the little group of Nagiri for a while before I snapped out of it and remembered where I was. Huh, I thought. I wonder if Verris will cover the Keti River Massacre. Seems like his kind of thing.

“I doubt it,” said a blonde guy a few seats away.

“What?” I asked. “Were you talking to me?” He hadn’t looked up from whatever he was doing, so I couldn’t tell.

“Not on the first day, anyhow.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.” He put his pencil down and looked up. “You were just watching those Nagiri so intently I couldn’t help myself. I thought it was gonna be dirty, but you surprised me.”

“You were in my head the whole time?”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, I wasn’t in your head. It’s more like ‘thinking over your shoulder.’” He shrugged. “It’s not like you have anything to be embarrassed about; that was good stuff, you paint a very vivid picture. Lotsa good reds in there.”

“You’re sick,” I said, my attitude returning. “Fuck off.”

“Yeah, fuck you too. Hey listen, you’re a Nedrak, right?”

I gave him a look that I hoped made him feel really stupid.

“Right. So is it true you guys have horns under your hair? Can I feel ‘em?”

I gaped. He couldn’t possibly be in college and actually think that.

He laughed. “Of course I don’t really think you have horns! I’m just messing with you, man.”

“Would you get out of my Gai-damn head?” I growled.

“Shhh, the professor’s here. And only ten minutes late. I’m Chris, by the way.”

I hadn’t even realized that class was supposed to have started already. Professor Verris rushed in, dropping his briefcase on the desk and turning to the chalkboard in one swift motion. “I’m Professor Verris,” he said, writing on the board as he spoke. “And this is Nedrak Culture and Religion.”

He turned to face the room but didn’t actually look at us. “You are the students,” he said, opening his briefcase. “And this is the syllabus.” He dropped a stack of paper on the desk. “All your reading assignments for the semester are listed in the syllabus. There will be a quiz at the beginning of every class; your quiz scores will make up sixty percent of your final grade and your final exam will be the other forty. Any questions?”

He waited exactly three seconds for someone to raise a hand. “Good. Pick up a syllabus and go home. Your first quiz is on Thursday.” With that, he closed the latch on his briefcase and was out the door.

“Well,” Chris chuckled. “You sure showed him, huh? Who don’t take no shit from no one? My man Shawn don’t take no shit, hooo-yeah.”

“How did you know my—” I started. This time it was his turn to give the don’t be stupid look.

“Right. Well, fuck off, Chris,” I said, picking up my bag and heading for the door. As I walked down the hall, I gave myself a little pat on the back for getting the last word in—and profanity, no less.

“See you Thursday,” Chris’ voice echoed in my head.

“Gai-Damnit!”