Mimi Arcanist [Chapters 22-23]

Hey peeps!

More chapters. We're about at the halfway point. o.o

Shami

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TEN LAPS

I chuckled at her challenge.

Then it struck me. I had been having a great day so far, even if I had fallen asleep in class and scored low on a quiz. There had been no dread. No worries about the gate fragments. And even now, as we were about to start a race—just for the fun of it—I felt a sense of excitement and contentment.

Perhaps all the abyssal hellsnonsense could be put behind me.

“What’s with that lopsided grin?” Exie asked as she crossed her arms.

“Oh, nothing.” I waved away the comment. “And this race… It doesn’t seem fair.”

Ashlyn lifted a perfect eyebrow. “Not fair? Heh. I can’t wait to hear this explanation.”

“Neither can I,” Sorin said.

He walked with me across the dirt track. I stopped at the metal pole markers that jutted out of the ground on either side of the track—clearly the starting point. Ashlyn stood near the opposite pole, eyeing me and my brother.

Sorin tunic barely fit him, and I wondered if the stitchwork would hold out through ten loops around this track. What was he eating? Had he gotten larger somehow? And why did he have to stand next to me? His height and bulk were more noticeable when he stood directly at my side.

But I didn’t mention it. I glanced back over at Ashlyn. “Didn’t you grow up in a palatial home? I bet it had its own track, and you had a score of trainers who helped prepare you for moments like this.”

My simple question and statement clearly struck a nerve. Ashlyn tensed; her playfulness replaced with a neutral expression that betrayed the truth of my words.

Exie stepped forward, one finger up. She didn’t wear trousers often, but it didn’t matter. She could’ve been clothed in the guts of a dead octopus and she still would’ve looked great. The belt around Exie’s waist was cinched tight, making the bottom half of her tunic flare a bit, like a little skirt. She wasn’t athletic, that much was obvious. If this were a race with all of us, I imagined she would be among the last of the class to finish.

“Uh, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Exie said matter-of-factly. “The Kross Compound doesn’t have a track.” Exie lowered her finger and crossed her arms over her chest. “They have a beautiful garden with a winding trail, but it’s not really for running. It only goes a mile and a half.”

Ashlyn’s expression hardened into ice. She glared at Exie, who obviously didn’t understand. Exie huffed and shrugged her shoulders.

I scoffed. “Well, poor lil’ ‘ol me grew up in a shack filled with candle wax, remember? I didn’t have anywhere to run.” I added a sarcastic sigh at the end of my comment, but this only seemed to anger Exie.

Phila, somehow oblivious to my sardonic tone, touched a hand to her cheek and whispered, “Oh, those poor islanders…”

Ignoring her, I said in a serious voice, “Look, running isn’t my forte. Just ask the unicorn. And I don’t make a habit of jumping into competitions when I know my competitors have leagues of advantages and training.”

Ashlyn threw back some of her golden hair. “You know, you could’ve saved everyone’s time and just said you’re scared. You didn’t have to dance around that with some fancy words and excuses.”

That was far more aggressive than usual. Why? Did she need to prove she was faster than me for some reason?

We stared at each other for a split second, her eyebrows knitting as though she were sorry this situation even existed.

Nasbit stepped forward. Although he was a portly individual, his tunic wasn’t straining to maintain its form, unlike Sorin’s. Nasbit had a perfectly tailored tunic that fit his wider frame.

“Ashlyn,” Nasbit muttered. “Please. We shouldn’t have a race.”

“Naz, this doesn’t concern you.”

“But it does.” He rubbed his knuckles. “Don’t you remember what happened at the Summer Palace? Your father made us all race and…”

But Nasbit didn’t finish. He gazed at the dirt, his lips pursed.

Ashlyn shook her head. “Fine.” She turned away from us all. “Let’s just… do our running.” She took off down the dirt track, not even bothering to speak to anyone else.

Exie followed after her, but while Ashly’s pace was set to run, Exie merely jogged. Or maybe fast walkedwas the better description.

“Well, we don’t have to make it an official race,” Raaza stated as he dashed past me. “But we can still race.” He took off toward Ashlyn, gaining on her.

Everyone else meandered onto the track. I stuck close to my brother, and Nini jogged on the other side of him. Our pace could only be described as leisurely. We stayed as a group for one full loop, but at that point, Nini started slowing down. While she had removed her Academy robes, she hadn’t removed her coat, her undershirt, or any of the other layers I couldn’t see.

It was clearly affecting her performance.

When she slowed, Sorin gave me a sideways glance. We were twins. I could tell when he was silently apologizing to me. I gave him a small nod and he fell behind so that he could stay close to Nini.

On the second loop, Ashlyn lapped me. She shot me a glare, but I just replied with a grin. This caused her to huff out a laugh. For a short while, she slowed her pace and neared me, but her breathing was heavy. It was difficult to speak.

When Raaza came up on her, she abandoned staying near me and instead sprinted ahead. Raaza shot by, and I gave him a sarcastic salute.

Halfway to the third loop, and I came close to lapping Nasbit. The man only jogged occasionally, and instead opted to walk most of our assignment. As I neared him, Nasbit stepped to the side, like I would trample over him if he wasn’t at least three feet away.

I slowed to a brisk walk. “Hey,” I said between huffed breaths. “Are you okay?”

Nasbit exhaled and waved me away. “I’m fine.”

“What happened at the Summer Palace?” I asked. I had been deeply curious about it ever since he mentioned the location.

Nasbit eyed me, and then motioned to everyone else on the track. “You’re going to fall behind if you don’t run ahead.”

“I’m more curious about what happened than I am excited to finish this exercise.”

After a short sigh, Nasbit lowered his voice and said, “Ashlyn’s father had us all race. This was before Ashlyn and I were arcanists. He made us run some ridiculous loop around the palace’s courtyard. Everyone else was so fast, they finished long before I reached the halfway point.”

Nasbit slowed his walking. He tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, not even bothering to look like he was trying to complete this task with any sort of speed.

I jogged in place next to him. “Who won?”

“Ashlyn’s brother, of course.” Nasbit glowered at me. “But that’s not the worst part. I didn’t care who had won. I just wanted to stop. But Ashlyn’s father made me run the rest of the way. Everyone else just stood around and watched as I struggled to complete the loop. It was so embarrassing.” With another sigh, Nasbit stopped talking.

Now I understood why Nasbit would also be reluctant to go to a cotillion run by Ashlyn’s father. His words had been so miserable sounding that I wondered if something else had happened he was just too embarrassed to bring up with me.

But I wasn’t sure how to fix his problem.

Instead, I patted him on the shoulder. “Hang in there.”

Nasbit gave me a confused glance as I jogged ahead. Then I pushed myself faster, trying to prevent Ashlyn and Raaza from lapping me a second time. Fortunately, a group of clouds passed over the track, keeping me from the harsh rays of the run. My insides still burned from the strain, though. The front of my legs, especially.

I thought I would have even more loops to just wander my thoughts and mull everything over, but someone came running up behind me.

“Gray!”

I glanced over my shoulder. Knovak hurried to my side and then slowed. Unlike everyone else—except Nasbit, who was walking—Knovak wasn’t breathing hard at all. He ran to me, and then slowed a little so we could keep pace with one another.

Out of everyone here, he was only student wearing a white silk tunic and crisp black pants. At least he wasn’t a ridiculous hat. Where did this man get his fashion sense from?

“There you are,” Knovak said clearly, even while moving at a fast clip. “Have you thought of some way we might get invited to the cotillion?”

I shook my head, my breathing harder than before, my underarms sweating enough to soak my tunic.

“I think I might’ve found a way.”

“Okay,” I said between deep breaths.

“You see, I found out that everyone’s invitation allows them to bring a guest.”

“Uh-huh,” I huffed.

“The problem, of course, is that even if Ashlyn, Exie, Phila, and Nasbit all invited another person in our class, that would leave us with one extra person who was completely excluded from the event.”

That was true. Our class had nine students, and only four of them had received invitations.

I glanced over at Knovak. He ran just fine, his face scrunched in deep contemplation. How had he uttered an entire paragraph’s worth of information without gulping down air? No one could run and pontificate at the same time. Right?

“How are you—” I gulped down another breath, “—talking so well?”

“Ha!” Knovak smiled and laughed to himself. “Now is my moment to revel in my unicorn magic.” He smirked as he jogged, his arms proudly swishing back in forth in time with his gait. “I finally have something to lord over everyone else. You see, unicorns have an innate ability to regain stamina nearly three times as fast as normal individuals. I barely feel this run. I could jog like this all day and hardly get winded.”

Ah. I finally understood why unicorn arcanists made such great knights. With three times the stamina, it would be no trouble to charge into battle with heavy armor and weapons. Some historic battles had been lost because one army became fatigued, but that wouldn’t happen if they unicorns and their arcanists on their side.

Wait a minute.

I closed my eyes and felt for Starling’s thread of magic. The moment I had it, I tugged. Unicorn magic flowed into me. My forehead burned as my arcanist mark shifted to allow for the unicorn image to be intertwined with my star.

Twain, who was in the arms of Brak, bubbled and shifted into a unicorn foal, never five times larger than he was before. The stone golem tilted its sandstone head in confusion.

With the power of the unicorn, I understood what Knovak meant. The burn in my muscles lessened, and my breathing eventually became shallower as I rounded the bend into the fifth loop. I wasn’t tired at all.

“This is amazing,” I said, no longer needing to huff and puff.

Knovak glared at my arcanist mark and deeply frowned. “You just couldn’t let me have this, huh? This one timeI have the upper hand, and you have to show me up.”

“How am I showing you up? We’re running at the same speed.” I motioned to the track, then to us.

“I was enjoying having an advantage that no one else had,” Knovak muttered, his eyes narrowed. “Now I have to share it with you. The mimic arcanist. I can’t just have one thing better than everyone else?”

“Heh. You’re always going to have share you magic with me. Get used to it.”

Knovak didn’t answer. Still, I made another mental note to keep track of everyone’s abilities. All of their skills were technically my skills as well, but they wouldn’t do me any use if I forgot to use them.

For the rest of the laps, Knovak and I stayed at the same speed. He was grumpy the whole damn time, though. I really didn’t understand the man. Why was he so upset? I pushed it from my mind.

I’d make it up to him by finding a way for us to attend the cotillion.

At least, I hoped.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

FATHER, ARCANIST, WARLORD

Once I finished the ten laps around the track, I walked onto the grass to find Twain.

Ashlyn had finished first, and Raaza second, but it had been a close at the end. Knovak and I were three and four, and everyone still had a lap or two to go.

Twain had maintained his unicorn shape for longer than ten minutes, which was amazing. I spotted him playing with Ecrib in the middle of the field, but right as I was about to congratulate him—this was the longest he had been transformed—he shimmered and shifted. His white unicorn coat puffed out into orange fur, and his body shank down to a kitten.

Captain Leon motioned to the eldrin to get into a line. “Twain,” he barked. “If you’re not transformed, you can’t practice your evocation.”

“Uh, I need a little catnap first,” he muttered.

“Well… All right. Join us once you’re ready.” Leon returned to his instruction of the mystical creatures while the rest of our class finished their run.

I rushed over and scooped Twain into my arms. “Twain, you’re the best!”

He puffed out his little chest. “Yeah,” he said. Then Twain glanced up at me. “For what though?”

“You stayed transformed for so long.”

“Oh, yeah. I did, didn’t I?” Twain purred, his pupils dilating into huge circles. “I’m going to be an amazing mimic. The best ever.”

With a chuckle, I patted his head. As I turned around, I almost slammed straight into Ashlyn. Where had she come from? Her blue eyes met mine, but she didn’t say anything. When I went to step around her, she grabbed my shoulder.

“You were supposed to race me,” she said in a harsh whisper.

“Yeah, I got the impression you were trying to force the issue.” I held Twain against my chest. “But why?”

“Heh, now that I can be a unicorn for several minutes, you have no chance of winning,” Twain chimed in. “My arcanist will run circles around you. For about ten minutes. Give or take.”

Ashlyn stepped closer. “We were supposed to race, and I was counting on you saying something along the lines of what’s the prize? That way, I could say the prize is an invite to the cotillion, and then I would intentionally.” She narrowed her eyes. “But since you messed that up by getting defensive about being a candle maker’s son, it looks like I can’t get you an invite.”

Oh.

I hadn’t realized she was trying to help me.

“Wait,” I whispered. “Knovak told me you could invite someone to the cotillion as your guest. Why not just invite me normally? We don’t need a fake race as a preamble.”

Ashlyn’s face brightened to a shade of pink. She released my shoulder and stepped away from me in one quick motion.

“I can’t just invite you as my guest. That wouldn’t be…” She turned away from me, her shoulders tense. “You don’t know anything about noble families, do you? Look—forget I even said anything. This is ridiculous.” She stormed off the field.

Ecrib growled and then leapt after her, his dragon tail swishing behind him as he walked. The beast glanced back at me and narrowed his eyes before snorting a small crackle of lightning and then looking away.

“I would say that interaction went… poorly,” Twain muttered.

“I just don’t get her.” I patted Twain’s head. “Would the noble families ridicule her if she invited me or something? But if that was the case, why would inviting me because of a lost bet be any better?”

“Women—they’re a mystery.”

Speaking of mysteries.

Professor Helmith emerged from Astra Academy and walked down the stone steps to the training field. The afternoon winds toyed with her long hair, swirling it together as she made our way in our direction.

I hadn’t been paying attention to anything but her, so when Sorin jabbed me with his elbow, I elicited a shocked grunt.

“Huh?” I asked.

Sorin’s tunic—still holding together, even if strained across his shoulders—was soaked with his sweat. He tugged at the damp fabric as he asked, “Do you know what Professor Helmith is doing here?” He grinned. “I bet she’s coming to check up on you.”

“Stop,” I growled under my breath. “I’m sure she’s here to speak to Leon.”

“I don’t know. She does favor you a little.”

“She helped me a lot. We have a special connection.”

Sorin just stared at me with his dopy grin. I rubbed my eyes, trying not to exhale in irritation. Why did he have to keep poking me like this?

Professor Helmith reached the edge of the field and stopped. She was barefoot, and her toes curled and uncurled. Helmith refused to step on the grass.

“Gray?” she called out, her attention locked on me. “Can you come here?”

“Told you,” Sorin whispered.

“Quiet, you.” I walked away from my brother, frowning.

But…

I was elated Helmith wanted to speak to me. I did enjoy her company, and any excuse to take a break from class was welcome. As I neared her, she smiled, and it was enough to remove all my anxiety and irritation.

The clouds drifted overhead, bathing us in a beam of fresh sunlight.

I took a deep breath as I came to a stop in front of her. “You wanted to see me?”

“My dad has arrived at the Academy earlier than expect.” Helmith placed a hand on my shoulder and motioned to the steps. “I was hoping you could come with me to see him. We need to test something regarding the gate fragments.”

Test something?

Dread returned to my thoughts. I really didn’t want to deal with corpses and Death Lords. But here we were. Could I get out of this? Probably not.

“Rylee?” Captain Leon shouted. He jogged across the field, his white hair sparkling in the dappled light. “What’s going on?”

“I need Gray for a moment.” She smiled. “You don’t have to be worried about me or the student all the time, Leon.”

He slowed his pace and stopped in front of us. Then he folded his arms. “Yeah, well, I don’t a repeat of what happened before, that’s all.” He narrowed his eyes. “I need to remain vigilant. I’m still frustrated a doppelgänger pulled one over on me.”

“It’s me,” Professor Helmith said. “And Gray will be back soon. We’re going to speak with my dad and the headmaster. It won’t be long.”

“All right.” Leon nodded to Helmith and then to me. “Stay safe, though.”

“I will.”

Then the captain jogged back to my class. I wanted to join them, but at the same time, I was curious to meet Professor Helmith’s father. Nasbit had made the man out to be a living legend. Was he, though? I would have to see for myself.

Helmith walked up the stone stairs that led to the Academy. I followed her, Twain in my arms. We entered the main castle and wandered the halls. Helmith walked with purpose toward a specific destination.

“What kind of man is you father?” I asked. “He’s known as the Warlord of Magic, right?”

Was he a monster of a man, towering over everyone with an imposing silhouette? That was my first impression, but after Nasbit’s burst of excitement, I wondered if I was incorrect. Perhaps this “warlord” was someone similar to Nasbit. Well versed in knowledge. Always willing to pontificate. Perhaps a librarian who loved over-the-top titles.

“It’s hard to describe my dad.” Helmith placed her hand on a door that led to the Academy’s basement. “I think everyone struggles to quantify their own parents. Don’t you think? Your eyes are cloudy with the fog of childhood.”

“W-What do you mean?” I asked.

Professor Helmith pushed open the door and hurried down the stairs, heading straight for the foundation floors. “I mean children often misjudge their parents. When we’re young, our parents are strict, which can be frustrating. When we become older, our parents try to impart lessons, which can sometimes come across as condescending. It’s only once we’re wise do we see our parents as people who sacrificed to give us life. Such a special gift you can only be given once.”

I walked with her, our footfalls echoing in the stairwell. With each beat of my heart, I felt a twinge of guilt. For the most part, I never appreciated my father or stepmother for the exact reasons Helmith articulated. Did she know? Was she trying to subtly say something to me?

“And there are examples of the opposite,” Professor Helmith said we traveled. “People who revere their parents so much that its difficult for them to see their faults. Their parents protected and cared for them—what flaws could they really have?”

“Yeah…”

Twain glanced between me and Professor Helmith. The stairwell was lit with glowstones built into the walls and ceiling, and the soft illumination made it feel like night even though it was still the middle of the day.

Helmith’s pink glowing tattoo runes added to the color of our trip. She sparkled with powerful magic.

“I think I may in the latter category of children. The one who see nothing but good in their parents.” Helmith chuckled to herself. “For a long time, I thought my mom and dad could do no wrong. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized they’re both people, like me, and not infallible beings of virtue.”

“So… you admire your father?” I asked.

She nodded. “Very much so. That’s why I had to summon him here. You see, my dad carries with him a blade that cut through any and all magic.”

That sounded amazing. And as we reached the bottom of the steps, my I caught my breath. “Wait. Did you ask him here so he could destroy the gate fragments?”

Professor Helmith turned to me. “Yes. I hope he can help. Then perhaps we’ll have a solution to this problem, and you won’t have to worry so much.”

We stood in front of a long hall with a series of doors. The “basement” of Astra Academy wasn’t really a basement—it was just a series of floors built into and around the mountain. Because they were above the front entrance, everyone loved to simply refer to all the foundation floors as a singular basement.

This was the area of the Academy was where magical items were created.

It was also the part of the Academy where I fought Death Lord Deimos. Which was why I wasn’t very enthusiastic to be here. Twain’s presence in my arms helped. He purred and twitched his large lynx-style ears. I suspected he knew I wanted the comfort.

The Death Lord wasn’t here, though. All my fretting was foolish.

Professor Helmith walked to the very last door and pushed it open.

Once inside, I spotted two individuals. Headmaster Venrover, and a man I had never seen before. Additionally, the headmaster’s eldrin, a beautiful golden sphinx was also in the room.

Headmaster Venrover stood tall, his lithe body not one of a warrior. He held himself with the demeanor of an erudite noble. He wore a blue vest, a white shirt, and black trousers, each one with a small insignia of the Academy somewhere on it. His boots, perfectly polished, glittered from the light cascading into the room from the far window.

This part of the Academy—a floor built straight into the side of the mountain—overlooked a distant valley. The breathtaking sky was almost a shock to see after all the stairs Professor Helmith and I had gone down.

Headmaster Venrover tucked some of his long black hair behind his ear. “Ah. Gray Lexly. I’m so glad you could join us. Much apologizes about the interruption to your class, but this is an important matter.”

His sphinx walked around his legs, her padded feet quiet. She had a lioness’s body, the wings of an eagle and the head of a human woman. “Welcome, Gray,” she said, her voice haunting beautiful. She spoke with a deep and knowing tone. Her golden fur shimmered as she took a seat next to her arcanist, her wings tucked close to her body.

“Hello,” I said, offering both of them a quick bow of my head.

“It’s so good to see you, Dad,” Helmith said as she hurried over to the other man in the room. She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace that returned completely.

The Warlord of Magic wasn’t anything I expected.