World Sphere - 12 - Sebastian

Chapter 12: Sebastian

The large bird grasped my right shoulder and left bicep in his talons. One talon pierced my upper chest on the right side. The momentum of the raptor took my left arm into a painful rotation, pulling it out of its socket and tearing ligaments and muscles. The pain was so much and so quick I didn’t have time to scream. I was now pinned to the ground and looking up at a giant black eagle. It had a foot-long beak whose sharpness looked like it would make easy work of my tender flesh. When we locked eyes, I saw my end in its black unforgiving eyes.

Gareth suddenly appeared behind the eagle’s head, flying through the air out of its line of sight. The eagle didn’t pick up on his presence as he landed on its back, wrapped his left arm around the neck of the raptor, and drew his dagger clean across its neck with his other arm in an instant. The bird tried to turn, but it was far too late for it to respond to the attack. Its neck tendons were most likely cut, and the large bird hung over me for a brief second before collapsing onto me, completely burying my body. 

The death collapse movement wrenched my arm and shoulder more, but I felt the talon release from my chest, alleviating pressure but allowing my lifeblood to flow from the wound. The weight of the bird was not my biggest problem. The blood from Gareth’s attack flowed freely from the eagle’s neck, and the feathers were suffocating me. I was drowning in blood and suffocating at the same time.

It was a short time later that Gareth had pulled the beast away. I couldn’t speak; the only sound I could make was a rasping moan. My eyes were mostly out of focus, but I could see the panicked look on Gareth’s face. He fumbled through a pouch on his waist, produced the restorative vial he had purchased today, and poured it into my mouth. “Shit, still bleeding,” was all he said as he ran to my pack and dumped the contents out. Was it weird that I was more concerned with the rough treatment of my books than my ebbing life?

Gareth returned with the vial he had given me a few hours ago and again forced the liquid into my throat. How the hell was I still conscious? My mind was currently clear and, oh shit! Two potions consecutively before the first dissolved! It was a simple thing told in a child’s rhyme. The dangers of combining two potions within the digestive tract. It was rarely a pleasant experience for the imbibers. It was a major error on Gareth’s part, but as long as they were from the same batch, I should be all right. At least, I hoped so.

A few moments later, Gareth finally relaxed. “It stopped bleeding, but your arm is all messed up. What should I do?” Well, I was in no place to give advice as my shock was starting to wear off, and the pain was doubling every second as my body figured out my condition. Tears started streaming from my eyes, and then I screamed. Well, it wasn’t a scream, as I now knew some of my ribs were broken. “Quiet Storme!” Gareth whispered urgently, rushing back to me, “The shadow eagles usually hunt in pairs.” He was scanning the sky now.

My thoughts drifted to shadow eagles. We learned about them in school. They had not been seen on the island in over twenty years, and Gareth and I had decided the stories of them were more to scare young children from venturing toward the edge of the island and the risk of falling. Even the tales said the eagles just targeted small children and livestock. I guess in the raptor’s eyes, I fell in that category.

“Okay, Storme. I need you to wait here. I am going to Callem. He is a little closer than if I went all the way back home. But I am going to have to move you beneath the ironwood tree by the water for cover. This is not going to be pleasant.” Well, it didn’t matter as Gareth’s first tug under my arms pushed me into unconsciousness.

I awoke with Callem kneeling over me, but I couldn’t open my eyes, so I just recognized the man by his voice. I wasn’t sure how long he had been there, but he was checking my body. I felt his hands inspecting my injuries gently. “It is not good, Gareth. The vial I gave him will deaden his nerves and keep him from feeling the pain. He is going to need a good healer from the capital,” he paused, “I have a friend who will come. We will get him back to the farmhouse first. Once he is safe there, you can go tell his parents.” I managed to shake my head somehow, signaling no.

Iron was in Callem’s tone of voice, “Fool boy. You are halfway to the grave, and if not that, you are probably going to be crippled unless you receive some upper-tier healing.” He sighed loudly. “Gareth, tell his parents what you will. He will live, and if he is crippled, he can explain to his parents why,” Callem said with some frustration. I heard Gareth’s footfalls fading as he raced away.

Although I couldn’t think clearly, I still muttered two words before slipping away to unconsciousness again, “My books….”

I awoke and could hear three distinct voices talking. One was Callem, one was feminine, and the third was male. I kept my eyes shut and listened. The female voice was speaking, “…are you sure? I repaired all the damage to the flesh and bone.   The scar on his right shoulder will not be difficult to remove. There is also no sign of any further infection.”

The unfamiliar male voice spoke next, “Nisil, that will be all. Callem wants the scar to remind the boy of what happens in your youth when you are foolish. Hopefully, he will learn from this little adventure. You can wait on the Wind Splitter.” I heard the shuffling of someone rising and exiting the house.

The unfamiliar voice continued, “So, friend, you called me urgently out here on the communication stone to tend to this unremarkable boy. Who is he? I don’t see any resemblance on his face to you, so he is not a relation. I know you called me because Nisil was attached to me. She is definitely one of the better healers in all of Skyholme, but explain it to me in more detail so I can better ask a favor in return.”

Callem's rich, deep voice rumbled with a lighthearted chuckle as he replied, “Ha, Sebastian, your words have the air of a damned politician—bartering favors for lives. The boy I’m mentoring is part of a duo of disciples I’ve taken under my wing in the art of swordsmanship.”

His tone shifted subtly, becoming more serious. “The other boy shows remarkable promise; in time, he will likely outshine me. As for this boy, he too has the potential to become a skilled swordsman, but my primary reason for teaching him lies in the fact they come as a pair. They are fast friends like you and I.”

“Fast friends, are we now?” the man inquired with a hint of sarcasm. “So, you’ve taken up the role of mentoring boys to become master swordsmen? I distinctly remember you saying you would never venture down that path again after what happened to your son…” He trailed off, suddenly realizing the weight of his words. The memory hung heavy between them—Callem’s son had perished in a dungeon, a truth my father told us about.

Regaining his composure, the man continued, “Well, you might have saved my life on a half dozen occasions, but then you chose to run away out here to the middle of nowhere, leaving me to contend with that viper’s nest in the capital.” His voice held a mix of frustration and betrayal, underscoring the tension that lingered in the air.

I heard some movement in the kitchen. “I am parched, old friend. How about some of the 10-year-old vodka on ice with that red fruit juice you like so much?” His tone was lighter, and it was obvious he wanted to get past the uncomfortable conversation.

“You mean the juice you like so much that costs me 20 gold to import from the Sabian merchants? And the vodka I made with my own two hands and aged in my own white sugar oak casks imported from the lowlands? What happened to the 5-gallon cask you took with you last time you were here to grow my tobacco?” It was the first time I heard Callem sound exasperated, but his voice had no malice. The mention of his son was now safely buried in the conversation’s past.

“Don’t tell me how you get the juice! I might have to report you to the Triumvirate Customs Office!” Sebastian replied jokingly. “I still have some of that cask left, but the headaches of running the shipyards require a good shot every evening, so it is running low.”

Movement in the kitchen paused the conversation, “Did you know Lord Leif Dintho has nearly doubled the cost in the last year of black cedar he is selling to the Navy? I checked, and the general market price has barely budged in the lowlands. He is the only supplier in Skyholme, and when I told the Triumvirate in my monthly report, they just signed off on the cost increase. But you know what I did to spite the corrupt asshole? I redrafted our three standard ship hulls to reduce the inclusion of black cedar by half! You wouldn’t believe the hell storm that was created!” The man was passionate in his speech and laughing at his own cleverness.

“I’ve had enough of the political games, Sebastian. You’ll need to take on the challenge of saving Skyholme by yourself. I intend to savor my remaining years here in peace. Speaking of challenges, there’s that other boy, Gareth. He may very well be the key to stabilizing the Navy, provided you can guide him down a righteous path. I also want an assessment of his abilities. Are there any independent assessors or readers who aren’t swayed by noble interests? I’m reluctant to expose his talents to the Houses or the Triumvirate until he is capable of standing on his own.”

The man sighed resignedly and, after a pause, said, “Wynna and her daughter Ennet. They are two of the better readers in Skyholme, if not the best. They keep their readings private. At least I have not heard anything about them revealing information they have gleaned in my 72 years. That can’t be said of any of the other powerful readers. No matter how much they profess confidentiality, they are all in the pocket of one house or noble. If you are that worried, you can always take him to the lowlands for an assessment. I will even fly you there myself.”

The man continued. I heard liquid being poured. When had Callem moved? I hadn’t heard him shift position. “This drink is fantastic, but it doesn’t settle our debt of you dragging me out here. I do have a favor to ask of you.”

Callem spoke immediately, “Name it, and if within my power, I will do it, friend.” I think Sebastian was finishing off his glass as there was a long pause.

“My granddaughter, Cilia, is in her fourth year at the Naval Academy. She wants to captain a ship as I did in my heyday,” he paused, sighing heavily, “Well, earlier this year, there was trouble at the Naval Academy,” he paused. Sorrow laced his words as he continued. “Another officer assaulted her outside of training.” I heard wood splinter from the direction Callem had been speaking. “I know this would have never happened under your watch. That idiot in charge of the Academy always lets things slide and looks the other way for favors. I took care of what I could, Callem. The cadet was the son of Halifax Bricio. He is 22nd in line to succeed the Bricio seat on the Council of Three. He is still enrolled in the Academy, but Cilia has been moved back a year, repeating her 3rd year.”

Sebastian sighed, “I know she is being punished for his transgression. But at least she will not be in his classes any longer. I need you to teach her how to defend herself. Her martial skills are the only area in which she ranks low at the Academy. She can come here in a few months and train with you between academic years. The Bricio cadet also has two Wolfsguard with him at all times. While I could temporarily assign my Wolfsguard Nisil to her, it wouldn’t help. She needs to be able to stand on her own two feet in the Navy if she wants to be a captain. She is too stubborn to give up her dream. I have tried to convince her many times in the last few weeks. If this is too much, just say so, and I will hire others in the city.” I heard an empty glass being set down.

Captain Callem was quick to reply. “Cilia is the tall gangly granddaughter?”

“Tall, yes, and she has filled out. The last time I brought her to your farm was five, maybe six years ago. She is strong and a pretty good athlete, but her mind is her sharpest tool. She even has a small aether core and can imprint a few tier-one spells.” Pride rang in his tone, “I will also set up an appointment with Wynna as additional payment.” Sebastian added, sounding hopeful.

“Between terms? Not a lot of time to train her.” I heard Callem’s finger tapping on the counter as he considered. “I will focus on hand-to-hand, and she can choose one weapon to focus on while she is here. The boys can help. Ok, it is a deal. Get me an appointment with Wynna as well.” There was some movement as the pair moved about the kitchen.

Callem suddenly added, “Readings for both boys. I doubt Gareth will go without Storme to see a reader, so make an appointment for two.” The pair sounded like they moved together and were shaking hands, sealing the contract. “I will bring out three pouches of tobacco to the ship, but it is time for you to get moving. Your unexpected absence like this may draw eyes to me. And if you want more of the fruit juice and vodka, you can stop by anytime for a drink.”

“Hah, I am free to go where I want to old friend! The benefits of having my own skyship, but I can see my welcome has been used up,” he said in good humor. The door closed as Sebastian left.

“So Storme, how much did you hear?” I nearly jumped off the couch but slowly sat up. It was work to even sit up, and I was lightheaded. “You can wipe the surprise from your face. You don’t snore but have a low-pitched whistle when you sleep. Sebastian didn’t notice that it had stopped. I did.”

“Captain Callem, I woke shortly before Nisil left,” I said truthfully.

He was nodding, replaying in his mind what had been said. “Well, that was Admiral Sebastian Woodcraft. He is a powerful earth and nature archmage. I count him a friend,” he sighed, “one of the few I have left, alive at least. In case you are wondering, he changed his last name when he became recognized as an archmage. It had been Riffolk prior. Riffolk is a minor house of nobles in the capital that is known for…unsavory things.” 

“He dissolved his bonds to his family when he reached the status of an archmage. Why do I tell you this? It is more for your safety. Even though he has cut ties with his family, they are still like mosquitos around him. Keep your distance from Sebastian until you are old enough to fend for yourself. So, do you know what a reader is?” Callem had moved to sit in front of me. I shook my head no.

“Well, man has always quested to quantify everything he lays his eyes on. I bet some mathematician out there has calculated how many blades of grass there are within the entire Sphere.” He huffed, “I digress. By assigning numbers to certain descriptors, readers can access how strong, smart, fast, fit, and many other things that make you up. The magnitude on their power will determine how accurate their readings are.”

“Some magitech devices do the same thing, but only the Triumvirate is allowed to utilize them in Skyholme. Readers are not outlawed yet. Some of the more powerful readers with tier 2 or tier 3 reading abilities can read others’ actual abilities, affinities, and racial traits. We do not have many in Skyholme, but there are many in the lowlands. I believe your friend Gareth has the tier 3 ability called Giant’s Constitution. He also has at least one other ability that has improved his reflexes, but I haven’t yet been able to ascertain which by observation. If I can identify his abilities, I can serve him better as his teacher.” He was looking at me for approval—maybe permission.

“How much do readings cost?” I asked. He misinterpreted my question.

“Don’t worry about it. I will cover the cost for both of you. If you choose not to reveal your abilities to me, I am also fine with that. I know your aether core awakened. Sebastian saw your books. He even offered a platinum coin for your cleanliness spell book in jest. It is quite the collector’s item. We both met the mage who wrote the spellbook in our youth. Her spell books are enchanted and cannot be copied, so each copy is treasured.”

“Well, you should rest after you eat. There is plenty of food in the cold chest. I need to see Sebastian off.” Callem rose and looked a little older, if that was possible. He retrieved some pouches of tobacco from the basement and went outside.

I hobbled over to the fridge. I started in on a complete strawberry pie. I was surprised when it was completely gone. Next, I cut off some cheese and large slices of ham and made two sandwiches with a few slices of herb bread. While I was working on the second sandwich, Callem returned. “Gareth is back.” As if by magic summoning, Gareth burst into the house.

He looked me over intently, “Storme, you look good. Can you use the arm?” I moved it to show him I was whole and functional. “I told your parents and mine we were out here helping Captain Callem on the farm for the next few days. I had to tell your mother you wrenched your shoulder, but Callem healed you. Also had to fend off Pascal from wanting to come out and help,” he grinned at his successful mission.

Callem interrupted our reunion, shaking his head. He was obviously not happy Gareth hadn’t told our parents the truth. He sighed, “Let Storme get some sleep. I will get you both some bed rolls, and you can sleep in my common room tonight. I believe you both have a sword lesson tomorrow.” I groaned, my body already shivering in anticipation of a new wave of pain.