Jarial rolled his eyes and sighed. “Perhaps, it was a mistake to send you out alone. We will not speak on this matter again, understood?”
“Yes, of course, Master.”
“Good.” Jarial pointed to the stairs. “Now, take those parchments to your room and work on that spell again.”
Kaijin bounded up the stairs and shut the door to the attic, eager to rewrite the cantrip on fresh parchment. He worked until his eyes grew heavy, and his body’s clock told him it was time for bed. Kaijin set the quill down and pushed aside the parchment.
The attic door opened, and Rorick trudged in. He tugged off his tunic and tossed it to the floor, stepped out of his boots, and plopped down on his bed in silence.
Kaijin smiled at his brother. “Hey, Rorick, how are your studies coming along?”
Rorick shot a brief glare at him before lying down and pulling the blanket over his head. “Shove off, Kaijin.”
Kaijin frowned. It wasn’t often he’d hear Rorick sound like their father. “Oh come, Rorick. Don’t tell me you still haven’t memorized at least some of the words.”
Rorick said nothing at first and shifted under the blanket. “What’s it to you?” he spat. “Master Jarial still won’t let me learn magic!”
“You know you can’t learn magic without learning your definitions.” Kaijin paused. “As much as I’d really like to help you again, I probably shouldn’t—”
“No! Don’t. I’m not gonna ask you nothing no more. I had to do extra chores because of it.”
“So did I!” Kaijin scoffed. “And I didn’t even get any lunch! What’s your point?”
“Goodnight, Kaijin.”
Kaijin sighed and turned away. He hated seeing Rorick struggle. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” He got up from the desk and went to his own bed. After stripping down to his pants, Kaijin placed his clothes in a neat stack atop his trunk. He lay in bed, staring up at the flickering shadows dancing in the rafters and musing about the day’s events. His eyes felt heavy, but he found himself unable to sleep. He rolled over in bed and observed his brother. The soft snoring from beneath the steadily rising and lowering blanket indicated that Rorick was already fast asleep.
Kaijin sat up again and examined his discarded clothing. He crawled to the foot of the bed and fished for his belt pouch. He opened the small leather container, pulled out the dingy holy symbol, and examined it. The drunkard’s words sparked curiosity in his mind. Kaijin traced his finger through the molded crevices of the golden trinket.
“Ignis ...” he mumbled as he caressed the charm. The symbol was like the embodiment of beauty, itself, to his eager eyes. “Perhaps I will be able to see the Firelord now that I have this.”
His eyes trailed over to the burning candle on the windowsill, and he smiled. He held the symbol over the candle and witnessed the flame lick away the impurities, leaving the charm gleaming like new. Mesmerized by the sheer beauty that lay beneath the layer of dirt, Kaijin felt glittering sparks form at the edges of his vision. While he held the symbol in his hands, his mind surged with feelings of adoration. He thought he heard the candle’s flame summon him.
Ignis?
The recesses of his soul called out to the ethereal voids in his mind, and the sweet whisperings of the dancing flame responded, compelling Kaijin to reach out and touch the flame. As his hand drew closer to the candle, he noted the faint glow of the charm pulsating at the same tempo as his own heartbeat. Simultaneously, the heat from the charm intensified. Kaijin promptly retracted his hand and shook off the trance state.
“So ... strange ...” Kaijin mumbled. Still unsure about what he’d experienced, Kaijin hid the charm under his pillow.
The room became stuffy as the hours passed, and Kaijin slid out of bed to open the window. Fresh air poured in, extinguishing the candle. Kaijin stared out at the shadows of the city’s streets and listened to the crickets and other sounds of the twilight hours. As he returned to his bed, he heard the sound of fluttering wings followed by the feeling of something furry grazing his cheek. Kaijin jumped and almost screamed. His nervous eyes searched the room. A soft screech came from above. He peered up and spied a small, brown bat. Its wings were folded around its furry body. It hung upside down from a rafter, staring at him with intent, ochre eyes.
Kaijin locked eyes with the animal and scrambled over to his brother’s bed. “Rorick! Wake up! There’s a bat in here!”
Rorick stirred. “What?”
“Look! A bat!” He pointed at the small animal. “We have to get out of here before it bites us!”
Rorick followed Kaijin’s gaze, and his mouth fell open as if he might scream. He latched onto Kaijin’s arm. “M–m–monster!”
“No, not a monster.” Kaijin held tight to his brother. “But very bad things might happen if it bites us. I remember reading it in a book, once. We could get really sick. We could get nasty green spots and—”
Tears froze in Rorick’s brown eyes. His body trembled in fear. He released his grip on Kaijin, jumped out of bed, and rushed to the door. “Hurry! Let’s find Master Jarial before it eats us!”
Kaijin followed, keeping an eye on the animal. They were only footsteps away from the door when the bat swooped down from the rafters and dove at Kaijin.
Jarial was locked away in the cellar, engrossed in his own work. At his desk covered with alchemical tools, Jarial measured small quantities of phosphorus powder and stored them in individual vials. He labeled each vial and scribbled notes in his journal. Sable curled up atop the desk, gazing curiously at his yellow-paged leather journal. She let out an irritable hiss.
Jarial glanced up from his measuring device. The cat’s ears twitched.
Sable hissed again and licked her upper lip.
“What is it, Sable?” Jarial cast a questioning look at his troubled familiar.
Sable meowed in response, hopped off the desk, and padded through the illusionary door leading upstairs.
He observed her for a moment before following. She led him to the kitchen where he discovered Kaijin and Rorick huddled under the table, shaking in fear, while a small brown bat hung from the ceiling above them.
Sable leapt onto the table and hissed at the bat. She stood on her hind legs and attempted to paw at the intruder, but it was beyond her reach.
Jarial narrowed his eyes at the scene. “What is going on? Get out from under there this instant, you two!”
Keeping a watchful eye on the bat, Kaijin was the first to reluctantly crawl out from under the table and stand beside Jarial. “I think—I think it flew in when I opened the window. It won’t go away, Master. It keeps following me! I think it’s trying to bite me and make me sick.”
“It wants to eat us, Master!” Rorick whined, crawling out from under the table and hiding behind his brother. “I don’t wanna have green spots on me!”
“Green spots?” Jarial arched his eyebrow.
“Uh-huh!” Rorick nodded and pointed a finger at his brother. “Kaijin said—”
“Rorick!” Kaijin glowered at him.
Jarial folded his arms and eyed Kaijin sternly.
Kaijin met his master’s gaze. “It’s true, Master. I read about it in a book.”
Jarial scoffed. “Certainly, not one of
my
books.” He paused and observed the bat, which remained in its spot on the ceiling. “See here, you two ...” He did not take his eyes off the small animal. “It’s not going to bite you unless you provoke it. And it’s certainly not going to eat you.” He uttered a series of phrases to the animal and watched as it immediately detached itself from the ceiling and landed on his shoulder. “This is called a fruit bat
.
Their diet gave rise to their name. Fruit bats are practically harmless to humans. This one in particular seems to understand magic.”
The boys gawked as he handled the furry animal, which remained fixated on Kaijin.
“You said this bat kept following you, Kaijin?”
Kaijin nodded solemnly. “Yes, Master. What does it want? It scared me!”
Jarial stroked his chin. “Extend your hand like this.” He extended his own hand, palm up.
As soon as Kaijin held out his hand, the bat promptly flew from Jarial’s shoulder and landed on Kaijin’s palm. “It tickles!” Kaijin nearly dropped it, but Jarial reached out and steadied him.
“Just as I thought. It’s obvious this bat has developed a strong magical attachment to you. The phenomenon is no different from how Sable first found me. The bat is bonded to you now, Kaijin, so get used to it.”
The animal moved in Kaijin’s hand, its tiny claws digging into his palm. The boy winced and flung the animal away. “No, Master! I don’t want it near me. It might bite me. I want it to go away. Leave me alone, bat! Go away!”
As the bat was hurled into the air, it took flight for the ceiling where it settled and remained.
Kaijin gasped. “It ... It’s gone?!”
“No.” Jarial pointed to the ceiling. “It’s still up there waiting for you—and will continue to do so for as long as you two are bound.”
Kaijin frowned when he spied the animal. “‘Bound?’ What does that mean? It—It’s not going to attack me again, is it, Master?”
“You told it to leave you alone, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, I did.” Kaijin beamed. “I did! It listened to me!”
Jarial nodded. “Indeed. I must warn you, however. Do not bring any harm to that bat lest you wish to experience some ... extremely painful consequences.”
Kaijin’s smile faded. “What kind of consequences, Master?”
“You and the bat are both magically linked. Any harm brought to either of you will risk breaking that link. It is like severing a limb from your own body, only worse—far, far worse.” Jarial’s eyes bore down on the boy. “Treat that bat as though it were the rarest, most valuable treasure in the world.”
Kaijin’s eyes traveled to Rorick, who watched him enviously.
“I wish I could do that!” Rorick cast Jarial a hopeful smile. “Will you teach me to train animals, too, Master?”
Jarial hissed. “This bat is not trained like some pet, Rorick. It is bound—a magical link that is shared between a master and his familiar.”
Rorick nodded solemnly.
Jarial saw through the boy’s poor attempt at feigning intelligence. “When you’ve mastered that book of definitions, perhaps I will teach you more about familiars.”
Rorick’s face brightened.
“Listen carefully, Kaijin.” Jarial turned to the older boy. “The bat will listen to your speech, as well as your thoughts. If you tell it to go, it will go. If you tell it to come, it will come. The animal—familiar—is virtually an extension of your arm ... an extra eye or ear ... a piece of your mind. It has become a part of you. Do you understand?”
Kaijin nodded once, though fear was prominent in his eyes.
Jarial dismissed the boys to bed. At Kaijin’s command the bat remained hanging upside down in its spot on the kitchen ceiling for the remainder of the night. Jarial returned to the cellar and pondered the day’s events.
Kaijin learned his spells in the first tier one month later. As his magical insight improved, his passion for fire intensified. With books provided by Jarial, Kaijin researched Ignis extensively. His own admiration for the Firelord inclined the boy to eventually revere Him as his primary deity. Kaijin’s fire obsession had magnified to the point that Jarial forbade him to demonstrate such fanaticism in his presence. So, Kaijin kept his thoughts private and continued learning the ways of the Firelord. The fire symbol he’d picked up from the street was kept hidden beneath his shirt—and close to his heart—at all times.
While Kaijin spent the majority of his days locked away in the attic scribing new spells, Jarial worked with Rorick in the study. The mage’s patience was wearing thin. It had been two years since the boys first arrived, and Jarial felt Rorick still wasn’t ready to scribe a basic cantrip.
“Again.” Jarial slid a blank parchment in front of the boy. “Ten more times. Draw the rune for ‘sky.’ I should only see four strokes for each one—no more, no less.”
Rorick sighed, dipped his quill in the inkwell, and began his slow work. With an unsteady, hand, Rorick scrawled a rune halfway across the page.
Jarial peered over the boy’s shoulder and scowled. “Enough, Rorick.” He snatched the quill.
Rorick frowned, keeping his eyes on the parchment. “What is it, Master?”
Jarial narrowed his eyes. “You’ve yet to convince me that you want to learn this. Do you?”
Rorick glanced up. “What do you mean?”
“I’m dissatisfied with your progress. You’ve not demonstrated the same seriousness about your studies that you did two years ago. In fact, it seems, the older you get, the worse you become. Learning magic is a lifelong commitment, Rorick. You are certainly not like your brother in this respect. If you do not want to learn, quit wasting my time.”
Rorick clenched his teeth, attempting to contain his rage. “I am trying to draw these pictures, Master, but it’s too hard!”
Jarial scoffed. “‘Draw pictures’? Is that what you think you’re doing, Rorick?”
“It looks like a picture to me.”
“You are not ‘drawing pictures!’ You are scribing runes. You are learning how to write magic. How many times must we go over this?”
“Pictures, runes ... they’re all still too hard to write!”
“That’s no excuse! Kaijin was younger than you when I first met him. He couldn’t read magic, let alone, write it. But he applied himself and strove to improve.”
“All you do is make me memorize words ... writing strange pictures a hundred times ... I never get to do anything fun like learn spells or train animals!”
Jarial rubbed his temples. “Runes, Rorick. They’re called runes! How in the hells am I supposed to teach you anything when you don’t even know what you’re writing?”
Rorick shuddered, on the brink of tears. “You’re always so mean to me, Master! Why do you like Kaijin better? Why does he get to learn spells and talk to bats and play with fire and not get in trouble when he stays up late? It’s not fair, Master!”
“Kaijin has applied himself. Unlike you, he wants to learn. He likes to challenge himself.” Jarial crossed his arms. “Tell me, Rorick. What is it you really want out of this?”