“Eh?” he responded, nonplussed.
“I want to meet Loreill!” she enthused. Gaspi grinned. Of course she would want to meet the elementals. Laughing, he also got off the bed.
“What about breakfast?” he asked, and as if on cue, his stomach growled noisily.
“We missed breakfast hours ago,” she responded. “I just want to meet the elementals!”
“Okay,” he said, grinning. “Just remember they’re not actually animals,” he said wryly. “You can’t make them into pets.”
“I know,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him, but he suspected she would try anyway.
“So, can you really cook now?” she asked mischievously.
“Yes I can!” Gaspi said indignantly, closing Lydia’s door behind him. “And if you’re not nice about it I won’t show you.”
They walked through the Warren and transported down to the Atrium. You couldn’t transport from level to level in the tower, but had to use the Atrium as a central hub. It kept things organised, and meant that no-one popped in on the upper levels of the tower unannounced. They went over to the reception desk, waiting for the receptionist to look up from whatever had her occupied. After a moment she lifted her head, peering at them suspiciously over her glasses.
“Hi Dorys,” Emea said sweetly. “Can we see Hephistole please?”
“He only returned from a trip yesterday you know,” she said tartly.
“We know,” Gaspi interjected. “But can you just ask him please?”
Dorys sniffed and picked up a quill. “Names?” she demanded.
“Gaspi and Emea,” Emea answered. Dorys scribbled their names on a strip of parchment and placed it in an ornately carved box. She watched it intently for a moment until the box gave a small wobble and the lid popped open. Reaching inside, she pulled out a different strip of parchment with stylised, curly handwriting on it. She peered at it disapprovingly for a moment.
“You can go up,” she said with another sniff, jabbing her quill in the direction of the last plinth in the line of twelve.
“
Don’t you just love her?” Gaspi said sarcastically as they walked over to the plinth.
“Shh,” Emmy responded with a wave of her hand as they stepped onto the raised platform. “She might hear you.”
Gaspi grinned, grabbing her hand. “Ready?”
“Yep,” she responded.
“Observatory,” he announced, and they disappeared.
When their senses returned, they were greeted by a loud squeak as Loreill darting across the floor. The elemental took his usual route up Gaspi’s legs, his sharp claws digging painfully through his clothing and causing him to wince. The spirit settled himself round his neck, chirruping happily as he nestled into his favourite position.
“So this is Loreill,” Emmy said in amazement. The spirit lifted his head, peering at her curiously with his inhumanly large green eyes. She was clearly delighted and reached out a hand to stroke his head. Gaspi was sure Loreill would draw back from her, but to his surprise the elemental let her run her hand over his fur, and even dipped his head into her hand.
“It took weeks before Loreill would even appear to me, and with you he just gives it up in the first minute!” he said indignantly.
“Don’t be silly,” she said distractedly, transfixed by the soft, creamy fur and perceptive gaze of the spirit. Gaspi snorted. He supposed the elementals had to change their behaviour now they were in bodily form, but still! Loreill made a different kind of chirruping noise, and the other three spirits flapped and ambled from around the corner, followed by Hephistole, who was trailing them like a delighted child, scribbling furiously in a notebook as he went. Emmy was usually shy around Hephistole, but she barely noticed him now as she took tentative steps towards the other elementals.
Gaspi watched with curiosity as she approached them. Loreill seemed to have accepted her right away, but would the other elementals do likewise? They couldn’t just disappear in bodily form like they could in spirit form, but they could certainly retreat from her if they wanted to. The hawk stood proudly on the back of one of Hephistole’s chairs, examining her with a beady eye as she drew near. Its cruel beak and hard stare stopped her in her tracks, and after another moment’s examination, it took off from the chair. With a few flaps of its snowy-white wings, it flew to a higher perch on top of a large, wall-mounted shield.
Emmy didn’t even try to approach the dragon, staring at it in awe. It regarded her evenly with smouldering orange eyes and then crawled into the fireplace and curled up among the ashes. Of the three spirits, it was the water spirit, awkward in its bodily form, that really captured her attention. As soon as they made eye contact, it waddled across the floor towards her as fast as it could go, making the exact same kind of excited chirruping noise Loreill made when he saw Gaspi. Emmy reached down and picked it up, and to Gaspi’s great surprise, it didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, it lay back comfortably in her arms, cradled like a baby. As it looked up into her face, Gaspi felt the distinctive flow of elemental magic, and in his gut he felt something knit together, something that was wholly right; as if it was meant to be. Loreill was watching them too, and he could feel a kind of knowing satisfaction emanate from the earth elemental.
Emmy looked at him with wide eyes. “What’s happening?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m not sure,” he said, as surprised as she was, “but if I had to guess, I’d say the water spirit has chosen to bond with you.”
“Wow,” she said breathlessly, looking into the otter’s brilliant blue eyes. “I can feel him,” she said softly.
“I suppose it makes sense,” he said. “Water spirits are all about healing living creatures, and you’re a healer after all.” As he watched her stare with childlike amazement into the water spirit’s eyes, he realised he’d never seen her look so happy.
“This is wonderful,” she said, looking away from the spirit for a moment to share her happiness with him. “I’m going to call her Lilly.”
Gaspi grinned. Heath would go spare if he could see what was happening.
“Oh come on!” Hephistole said loudly in frustration, making them both jump. They turned around to find him facing the remaining two elementals with his hands on his hips. “Surely one of you wants to choose me! I make wonderful teas you know!” When the elementals continued to ignore him, he sat down in one of his chairs with a loud harrumph. Gaspi exploded with laughter, and Emea tried unsuccessfully to stifle her giggles behind a smothering hand.
Hephistole glowered at them in frustration. “What?” he demanded. “I want one!” This time Gaspi laughed so hard he ended up rolling on the floor. Emea had to sit down and hold her sides, and even Hephistole had to smile.
“I am being a bit childish eh?” he said, not the least bit embarrassed.
“A bit,” Gaspi said between sniggers. “I just wish Heath was here. He’d go mental.”
…
They met up with Taurnil, Lydia and Jonn that night in the Rest. In all the drama of the previous few days, Gaspi hadn’t had a chance to see Jonn, and now that he had, his homecoming felt complete. Jonn, Taurnil and Lydia listened with interest as Gaspi told the story of his time with the reclusive druid, and of course they were fascinated by Loreill and Lilly, who hadn’t wanted to be left behind. The other two spirits were content to stay in the Observatory, which Gaspi figured was probably the best place for them. Late autumn was turning to early winter, so Hephistole could light a fire in his office without making it too stuffy, which would meet the fire spirit’s needs. He’d lit it before they left earlier that day, watching with unrestrained fascination as the dragon transformed in the flames, taking on its fearsome-looking spirit form. The air spirit had pecked at the latch of a small window until Hephistole swung it open. It had flown free in an instant, transforming into spirit form in a brilliant flash of light and disappearing among the clouds.
Gaspi looked around, more glad than he could possibly say to be back among his closest friends. Taurnil and Lydia had been mightily relieved that he and Emmy had made up so quickly, and now, with Jonn present too, he felt complete. No matter where he
went or what he did, this place - and more importantly, these people - were his home. He drew Emmy in under his arm and sighed in contentment. Sestin might well be planning something, and the elementals might believe he was destined to play a decisive role in battle for mankind’s future, but right now, and hopefully for a little while longer, things were back to normal.
The next few weeks passed in relative peace for Gaspi as he got back into the rhythm of study. He had a natural affinity for botany, and spent long hours in the Orangery, coaxing magical properties out of otherwise ordinary plants. Loreill always accompanied him on those occasions, transforming into spirit form if no-one else was around, and playing joyfully among the plants and trees while he worked. Sometimes Emmy would come along, and Lilly would transform too, made comfortable by the stream that flowed through the enclosure. Watching the two elementals play together, swooping through the trees and ducking into the stream in a bewildering blur of blue and green, Gaspi sometimes missed Heath, remembering the druid’s peaceful forest home with fondness. Perhaps one day, if Heath allowed him, he’d take Emmy there.
His second specialism was enchanting. He was always coming up with new ways to imbue everyday objects with magical properties. As a Nature Mage, he had more scope with enchantment than others, infusing objects with powers that were unique to his magical ability. Of all the ideas he’d experimented with so far, the one he was most proud of was the “spell trap.” The idea was to imbue hollow pottery balls with spells that didn’t go off until the casing was broken. He had the balls made specially in town, something the college paid for, and once enchanted, they remained harmless until smashed. The first ball he enchanted contained a freezing spell, which covered everything within three feet in a thick coating of ice when activated.
Getting the spell to release at the right time had taken a lot of practice. On his first attempt, the spell had been triggered by his touch and covering both him and Loreill in a hard coating of ice. He’d heated the air, melting the ice within moments, but the surprised elemental had hidden under his bed for the rest of the afternoon. The next few spell traps had been better, but they still kept going off at any hard tap of the pottery casing. In the end he had got it right, and the spell was only released when the casing actually broke.
Getting the timing right was dependant on how power was threaded into the enchantment. Not only did he have to visualise exactly what he wanted the spell to do, but he had to time and shape the release of power as well, and all of that had to be done in the moment of enchantment. If he didn’t visualise it all correctly as he cast the spell, the enchantment wouldn’t do what it was supposed to. After plenty of practice, he managed to tie the release of power to the right set of conditions. When those conditions were met - in this case when the casing of the ball was broken - the connection between potential power and manifest power snapped into place and the spell activated. That’s how Gaspi understood it intellectually, but in reality it had much more to do with feel than anything else. He just visualised the spell, the ball, and the conditions, and leaked power into each, tying them together in a way that made them dependant on each other. After he’d done it successfully a few times, he got the feel of it, and what had been difficult became relatively easy.
He was already thinking of other kind of spell traps he could make. Fire traps might be useful for fighting demons, but they would be too dangerous to leave around. Dropping a crate of those would be a bad idea! Emmy, Lydia and Taurnil had bravely volunteered to be test subjects for his more frivolous traps. He’d made one which sent the subject to sleep. The magically induced sleep only lasted about five minutes, but it was pretty deep while it lasted. He’d also enchanted one that caused the subject’s hair to grow rapidly for an hour. Taurnil had volunteered to be the subject for that particular trap, and after Lydia had cut his floor-length hair and beard, he’d asked to borrow the scissors and disappeared to the privy. When he returned, he’d whispered to Gaspi that the spell didn’t just affect the hair on your head and face, and refused to be involved in any more experiments.
On top of botany and enchantment, Voltan kept him busy with martial magic, sparring with him daily to try and improve his skills. Despite Gaspi’s greater magical strength, the warrior mage regularly trounced him through superior tactics and decades of experience. The first time it happened, Loreill transformed into spirit form and sped towards Voltan in his defence. Gaspi had yelled out just in time, calling the spirit back from attack. He was very curious about what Loreill might have done, but he didn’t want Voltan to be the one to find out!
Despite his mediocre performance, Voltan was determined that Gaspi should be proficient at martial magic, and not just rely on his natural strengths. He insisted that Gaspi refrained from using nature magic, and rely instead on normal strikes and shields. The best place for those sessions was in the quad, and as the days went by, their sparring sessions became something of a spectator sport for the other students. Day by day the crowd swelled, drawn by the irresistible lure of the college’s deadliest warrior mage fighting the only Nature Mage in existence.