MAGNUS

It would take a couple hours for Fenris and I to reach the village so I let a small amount of my aether flow into the crystal that held Varis and said, “You can come out if you want.”

The crystal shimmered and motes of light floated out of it to coalesce into a small humanoid figure. She was dressed in a loose white tunic, brown breeches, had blue hair that flowed wildly to her waist, bright blue eyes, and was less than a foot tall. When she spoke it was a match to the higher tones of her mental voice, but it was more musical coming from her lips, “Well now, is that an open offer?”

“I don’t see why not, I have a limited supply of aether though,” I answered.

“If I’m free to come and go from the crystal as I choose then I can use my own supply just as easily. It doesn’t take much since there are no enforcement bindings on me,” she said.

“Well, how do you recharge your aether? I know Fenris takes moonlight, but Alara has to be in her tree,” I asked since I knew that would be a major sticking point to her being able to pop out whenever she wished.

She winked at me and answered, “I’m an Aether Pixie.”

I blinked and stared at her. Aether Pixie’s were rare, just short of mythical beings. They didn’t draw aether to themselves like other aetherical creatures, they generated it. It meant they had effectively limitless amounts of aether to work with. Grandfather had once told me that it was beings like Aether Pixies and Yggra Dryads, like Alara, that made the mountain so flush with aether and an ideal home of some of the stronger creatures. Most stayed well away from the clearing his cabin was on, as few creatures stood much of a chance against Fenris particularly when he was fighting alongside Morgan Ward. It was the real reason Fenris regularly stalked the trail looking for travelers, and always provided escort down the mountain.

Varis flew up to my face and used her hand to push my jaw back up, I hadn’t realized it was hanging open, and said, “Pick up your jaw or an Ember Hopper is likely to make a nest.”

I grimaced at that image, which made Varis laugh like bells ringing as she flew to sit on my shoulder. I scanned the forest around us and said, “I didn’t think Aether Pixies would want to leave the mountain, let alone be bound to a summoning crystal.”

“We are in more places than just this mountain, we are just very good at hiding. As to being bound, yeah most pixies don’t like the idea, but there are benefits to it,” she said.

I nodded and said, “I remember that much of the old man’s lecture. Bound creatures become stronger more quickly due to the aether provided by the binder. They also can’t be bound to another crystal.”

“I actually won’t grow as fast as some creatures, as part of the servitude bindings provide more aether to the one bound, but I can also act more freely,” she clarified.

That made a certain amount of sense. I remembered that the high aether cost of binding was to enforce the creature to obey commands. Some beast binders had to put so many rules into place that they were forced to direct every action by calling out commands. Those creatures did become strong quickly, but when you dealt with a creature of more sentience than a Stone Ox the freedom to act on their own was a benefit in of itself. That freedom required trust between the summoner and being though.

“So is your plan for combat training,” I asked; this was an important question due to my choice of learning programs.

“From what I saw back at the cabin, you use primarily image binding and those weird things you made that combine different bindings. Is that accurate?” she asked.

“Yes, I don’t have a sufficient pool of aether to be an effective spellbinder. I keep a couple of runes for utility and healing, but those aren’t tools that I can use in the heat of combat. My cards are my primary source of combat bindings,” I answered.

“Then I think my best choice to aid you in combat is to provide healing and speed up the recharge time of your cards,” she said, and I could feel her nodding her head rapidly as if agreeing with herself.

“Healing is always good. How much of a recharge time are we talking?” I asked.

“Probably not enough to use a card more than once in a fight, but probably enough to use them by the next fight like in a tournament. Not that Fenris card though, not yet at least,” she answered.

I thought about it for a few minutes as Fenris carried us down the trail in silence. Each of my cards recharged at a different speed depending on the complexity of the aetherical image bound to it. Fenris’s card was the most complex I had succeeded in binding. Grandfather had me study the flows of aether and judge the amount it took for a card to recharge and we had established a pattern when compared against other forms of binding. For images of spell effects like the basic Firebolt cards I had it took three times as much gathered aether as an average spellbinder used. Images of equipment were a similar cost. Creatures where that pattern diverged though, as it seemed to take the same amount of aether gathered in the image as it took to do the common binding of the creature. The image wouldn’t grow any stronger though it also wouldn’t resist orders. Gramps called it a ‘snapshot’ of the being as it was at that time.

“Thank you Varis, that will be helpful. Will it work on the crystals I use with the pistol?” I responded.

“I think so, you used a similar binding on those as you used for your cards. We will have to test it when you actually use them though,” she answered.

We talked a little more of what I expected to see and do at the academy for the next hour when we were interrupted.

“I hope you have those cards of yours ready pup, I smell trouble up ahead,” Fenris said.

I reached for the small case I kept on my belt that held my combat cards. I only had fifteen currently usable since the Fenris card wouldn’t be fully charged until this afternoon. Three were Blood Moon Wolves that I made in my failed attempts to make the Fenris card, four were Firebolts, three more were Barriers, Two Healing Word cards, and the last three were of a type of creature known as a Mist Falcon.

Part of me wished I had put my pistol on my waist instead of packing it in my gear, but Gramps had said I needed to show it to the academy Dean before I started carrying it regularly. The other part of me was focused on picking out a few choice cards to use.

The downside of using image binding in combat situations was that you couldn’t activate them without looking at the image or touching it with your skin; this was in addition to the verbal component of declaring the image to activate it. Spellbinders could simply channel aether into the bound rune to activate their spellwork, where beast binders would call out whatever creatures they could command.

I shook my head and activated two of the Mist Falcons and sent them on ahead so they would be in place to assist. I could hear metal banging, and the thwip-schunk of arrows, so we must be close.

A few seconds later I slid off Fenris’s back as I took in the scene. A man in the livery of Nilavs messenger service was on the ground leaning against a tree, his hands over a bloody wound on his stomach. In front of him was Richard, the young spellbinder from Mountain’s Rest, wielding a pair of iron rods inscribed with different spell runes. In front of them along the trail were a dozen red-skinned humanoids that stood about four feet tall, with beady yellow eyes and really sharp claws: Crimson Imps. The imps were a pest that rarely came to the mountain as their home territory was the swamplands to the south along the Virfang river. What pulled them here was the real danger, as crashing through the trees coming back toward us was the nine foot form of a Red Ogre, the evolved and more bloodthirsty version of Crimson Imps. This thing was as broad as it was tall; and had a dozen arrows stuck in it including one in it’s left eye.

Fenris took off in a sprint before leaping at the ogre, hitting him squarely in the chest to knock it over and out of site as they tumbled through the brush that lined the trail.

“Varis, can you help the messenger?” I said, sliding the Firebolts back into my case and channeling aether to my vision.

Crimson Imps, and their bigger cousin, were immune to fire so this wouldn’t be an easy fight for me. However I wasn’t alone, as I had helped Richard design those iron rods he fought with. He couldn’t use them effectively without leaving the messenger unguarded though. I activated one of the Barrier cards, placing a blue translucent dome over the messenger as Varis reached his side.

Richard heard me and started to wade into the crowd of imps with his rods leading the way. Richard was a large man, at eighteen years old he stood almost six and a half feet tall, with the broad shoulders and thick muscles of a man who worked the forge. His blond hair was cut short and his grey eyes were fierce as he swept his weapon at the head of one of the imps. As it struck I saw him channel his aether into the top most rune near the head of the rod. Lightning jumped from the strike point to arc both into that imp and the next two closest. The strike left him exposed though and I saw one imp dart in to slash at Richard with it’s clawed hand.

Aether flowed into another rune on his second rod though, and a shield of air appeared on the side the imp struck from, both deflecting the imp’s strike and flinging it back into it’s comrades.

Directing my Mist Falcon’s to harry the imps from above I quickly moved to stand at Richard’s back and asked playfully, “It’s nice to see you and all, but did you have to bring the rest of the family?”

“Bloody hell Magnus, don’t make me laugh right now,” Richard said with a chuckle as he struck another imp, this time without the lightning, “I’m not exactly an expert with these things.”

One of the imps had tried to circle around to get at me with a claw. I deflected his attack with a circling motion of my forearm and kicked it in the chest with a snapping thrust that flung it back before saying, “Well I hope you get better quickly, I only have Firebolt spell cards.”

Richard responded, “Oh I don’t know, I think the new girl might get upset if I don’t save some for her.”

“What new girl?” I asked as I avoided a flurry of claw swipes by a second imp.

A pair of arrows, noticeably shorter than what I was used to seeing, suddenly appeared in each of the imps throats. Richard’s chuckle was obvious in his voice as he said, “That new girl.”

My gaze zeroed in on the young woman who was leaping from tree branch to tree branch. In each hand she carried a crossbow, sized to fit comfortably in one hand. I could see two separate bindings on it, one a similar binding to the one the old man used on his bow that would conjure arrows to the string. The other seemed to recock the crossbows. I watched as she rapidly switched the flow of her aether to one then the other to keep up a rapid pace. Her green eyes, framed by a short spikey cut of vibrant red hair, were fierce as she took aim and fired a hail of fletched death at the imps that surrounded us.

“I see,” I said lamely as the imps fell so swiftly they were unable to scream.