TO&FQ: Book 3: Chapter 18 (RAW)

Chapter 18 - The Great Blue

We all fly. Once you leave the ground, you fly. Some people fly longer than others.

- Michael Jordan

Today was one of those exceedingly rare days of rest. The morning light filtered through the library’s high windows, barely reaching the secluded corner where Seraphina had settled. Seeking a small measure of peace and quiet, she had chosen well; for the past half hour, she had been committing the major events of early Aranthian history to memory. Part of her wondered what use any of it was, especially if this was all a game, then she remembered she needed the knowledge for a perfect score, and anything less than perfect did not suit her. Another, smaller irritation worried at her mind.

A presence that was no longer here.

Her thoughts strayed to Hughes, who at this hour would usually be at her elbow, asking some silly question because he didn’t understand the material. Seraphina, being the beacon of kindness she was, would explain it slowly to him. The quiet without his incessant chatter, the very noise that so often drew shushing from the librarian or the student on duty, felt strangely empty now.

She found the whole thing vaguely irritating for some unknown reason. What was he up to? 

Seraphina pushed thoughts of Hughes aside and set about committing a few more long-dead names and their petty annals to memory. A minor reform here, a tepid little rebellion there, an alliance with so-and-so—trifles, all of it. When her deeds were recorded, they would not be small. Her claws would score the pages of history, and no one would ever dare forget her.

With that, she snapped the borrowed tome shut; the thud carried. She rose, green eyes bright with new resolve.

But first, there was something to see to. As ever, she would put others before herself. At the very least it would serve to push a certain boy out of her mind.

***

Seraphina found a secluded part of the garden, alone, with not even her maid Miriam for company.

She had brought the things that Lady Yanmei had sent her, namely the equipment she had ordered from the Toymaker for her newest servant, Tia. Seraphina dressed the little fairy in the doll’s clothes, with the little creature surprisingly obedient under Seraphina’s ministrations. Even with the young noblewoman’s high Dexterity attribute, dressing the fairy in the custom-made miniature armor had been difficult, though it turned out, far from impossible.

Tia bore it without complaint, though her small mouth went thin. When Seraphina set her free, the fairy beat her wings and rose—an inch, two—and sagged again as if the air had turned to tar. She tried once more, managed a feeble wobble, then dropped into the grass, all breath and trembling, wings fluttering like a moth trapped beneath glass.

“Well, this simply won’t do,” Seraphina said, sounding quite disappointed. “We shall just have to get you to train. Perhaps you only need a little help. You will need to get a feel for the armor… and to do that, we need to increase the time you spend flying in it. I think I have just the idea! A little motivation is in order!”

With that, the young noblewoman grabbed the little fairy.

“Seraphina, I don’t understand!” the fairy cried out, looking quite worried and put out.

She did not have to worry long; Seraphina launched her straight up into the sky. Equipment in the game had minimum attribute requirements. De Sariens would see to it that the little Fae built enough Strength, or whatever attribute governed winged flight for the Fae, to use the armor she had gotten for her.

The trick to getting extreme growth was an extreme situation. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. This was the code that Seraphina had lived by, until she no longer had to and cast it aside like last year’s summer collection.

The little Fae flew through the sky, far higher than she had ever flown before. The weight of the new armor tugged at her down, and panic nipped. Tia beat her wings in a frantic blur, too fast, then too wide. She tilted and yawed, dropping sideways in a clumsy spiral as she was unable to push enough Mana, the power that lent her true flight, into her wings. She snatched at the air with quick, choppy strokes, wings slapping and buzzing, then shortened the cadence: three hard flaps, a brace, a wobbly glide. She pitched forward, overcorrected, and dropped again, gasping, before catching herself with another burst of desperate wingbeats as she, by pure primal instinct, channeled more Mana into her wings.

The fall slowed.

“That’s it, Tia! Keep on doing that!” Seraphina called from below, shading her eyes, voice crisp as a riding crop.

Tia obeyed. She spread the wings to their full pane, felt the lift bite for half a heartbeat, then hammered down in tight, furious beats.  The world steadied, but for a few precious seconds, her Glamour faded as she forced more Mana into flight, and she became visible for all the world to see. Then the grass rose to meet her, too fast, until a pale hand slid under her like a landing field. She bumped into Seraphina’s palm, skidded to a stop against a curled finger, and lay there panting, tiny chest fluttering in a layer of steel.

“Well done.” Seraphina’s mouth softened. From a napkin-wrapped packet, she produced a small square of cake and pinched off a crumb no larger than a bead. “For your sterling effort.”

Tia took it with both armored hands, eyes bright, and nibbled. Sugar dusted her lip. “It’s good,” she whispered, breath still thin. Her trauma, it seemed, had already been forgotten.

“There’s more where that came from,” Seraphina said, lifting her to shoulder height. “Again soon. We’ll have you flying in armor as if you were born to it. All it takes is a bit more effort.”

***

Tia’s training continued when Seraphina had a break from her gruelling course of classes and assignments. The young noblewoman had to admit that although the Fae could fly in armor, it really did drain her Stamina to quite the frightful degree. It was nothing that more training could not overcome, but there had to be a way to save her Stamina so she could be a bit more useful.

When humans needed something, they first borrowed from the natural world. She would do the same here.

The young girl looked around. She needed something relatively common to find in case she needed spares, reasonably intelligent, and big enough to carry the small Fae.

As if in answer to her need, a shadow cawed overhead. 

Smiling to herself, she slipped the sling that acted as a belt from her around her waist and loaded it small pebble. This would require some precision.

The young girl let loose with her sling, and the pebble flew through the air. It crashed into the bird, knocking it out of the sky.

You have killed a Raven. 1 experience gained.

Whoops, she thought to herself for a moment before she mentally corrected herself. I meant to do that, of course.

Seraphina coughed, feeling ever so slightly embarrassed. “Well, then, Tia. I think I am going to have to get you a present!”

“Milly!” Seraphina called out, but only the song of birds and the rustle of the wind through the hedges answered her.

That dratted, useless servant was probably still in the library trying to keep up with the class assignments. The young noblewoman, in an act of great largesse, would deign to help her maid so that later Miriam might carry out her wishes.

***

“Honestly, Milly, I don’t understand why you find all of this difficult. It is a simple matter of memorizing by rote,” sighed Seraphina with faux exasperation.

By this point, the young girl was more than used to her maid’s many, many inadequacies. She had to remind herself that Miriam, at the end of the day, was a sort of charity case that Seraphina de Sariens had taken upon herself. And with that came certain responsibilities.

For the next hour, in the spirit of efficiency, she simply gave Miriam all the answers; it was, after all, the most expedient option.

“Thank you, milady. But you needn’t waste your time on the likes of this…”

“Yes, yes, save your gratitude for later. I do it because I am burdened with the grace and patience of a true saint,” Seraphina cut in with a wave of her hand. “But now that that is out of the way, I would like a quick update on our acquisition of the Calabrian Bogs.”

“You will be pleased to know that we are the proud holders of a two-hundred-year lease on the land and anything within it,” the maid stated with a hint of pride in her voice, her expression professional.

“Excellent, Milly. You can be useful at times. Well done indeed!” Seraphina smiled slightly. The noblewoman had learned that it was always important to toss a few scraps of praise to those below.

“Now then,” the young girl continued, “there is something I need you to get for me—well, for Tia, actually.”

Miriam looked around, worriedly. “It’s here?”

Despite having been proved otherwise, and many times at that, a small part of the maid believed, truly believed, her mistress had grown a bit mad when she mentioned Tia. She did not know this, but this was in fact a small effect of the Fae’s glamour. A part of its layered defence of deception.

“She is here, Milly,” Seraphina corrected, a slight note of irritation in her voice. “More importantly, I will require you to get a few ravens for us. The bigger the birds, the better.”

“Ravens, milady. I beg your pardon, but I don’t quite understand. Is it something to do with the Harvest Festival next week? Don’t tell me that you mean to… eat them?”

Miriam remembered Lord Anatoli de Sariens once ordering a banquet centerpiece for his birthday; a cow sewn up around a pig, the pig around a goose, and the goose bulging with sausages and spiced grain—three days’ labor for the kitchens for just a few astonished gasps from the invited guests. She knew full well that nobles had very strange tastes at times. Then there were all the strange pies… Ravens, by comparison, were simple. 

Ugh, the Harvest Festival, the Seraphina thought. I still need to practice my dance. Damn Rashana and her stupid riddles!

“Eat them! Don’t be silly,” Seraphina cried out, causing several students nearby to look at them. “And, it has nothing to do with the Harvest Festival, and you do not need to know the purpose. I will also need some aviary space in the menagerie and for you to hire people capable of taking care of the birds,” the blonde girl continued with her instructions in a lowered voice.

“But, milady, space in the Academy’s menagerie is quite expensive…”

“You are quite right. On second thought, have an aviary built next to the dormitory—or a simple bird box will do. I doubt the birds will be running away… or should I say flying away?” the young girl mused.

“I am afraid, milady, that I would not know whom to ask to acquire ravens; it is a rather… how shall I put it?… a very unique request, Lady Seraphina,” her maid protested feebly.

The young girl huffed in frustration. “To that, I find myself in agreement with you, Milly. The stars are in alignment, for it is surely your lucky day. However, you really need to fix that negative attitude of yours when dealing with my requests. Just make sure you acquire the birds—let’s say three or five will do.”

“But I still…”

“Use your brain, Milly. Your kind have them, I hope. Honestly now, I thought you were trained better than this. Just ask the Adventurers’ Guild. They have all sorts of nobodies there willing to do all sorts of jobs. Post a notice on their board and offer a suitable reward. These things are not difficult to think up!” Seraphina said, truly exasperated now. “Truly, must I think of everything!”

“I will see to it at once, milady,” the maid said as she packed her books into her bag.

The student on duty in the library tried to shush Seraphina into silence, but a glare from the blonde girl—sharp enough to cut through steel knives—silenced her instead.