The Dragel's Song

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Elyenka’s news was very important indeed.

  She was slated to become a Silvertongue.

  Apparently all her reading and learning languages both new and dead, had paid off in the rarest of gambles, because the gift of Silvertongue meant that she could speak to various creatures without any communication barriers between them. It would be both a blessing and a curse, because while she was excited for it and what it entailed, her parents would likely try to use her to make some sort of profit off of the skill.

  Kendall sympathized with her, but his prediction was the most fun, as he belonged to a race of individuals known as the Torvak, dedicated Creature Hunters with an innate sense of whether a creature would be dangerous or not and therefore being able to remain calm and collected when in danger, so they could effectively bring the creature down.

  He chattered excitedly about what it meant—enhanced speed, hearing and some strength to a certain degree. His older siblings hadn’t ever mentioned anything about their inheritance, but Kendall figured that was because they hadn’t wanted to worry him. His family wasn’t the richest, but they managed to get by well enough.

  His father was a private investigator and his mother was a retired chef. They’d met each other many years ago and in spite of their apparent opposite natures, had managed to fall in love and maintain a rather successful marriage, if their dozen children were anything to go by.

  “That’s wonderful, Ken,” Elyenka interrupted, at last. She looked annoyed, the slight tic on the left of her forehead being the first warning sign that both young men had learned to watch for early on. A famous Elyenka rant was not something for the faint of heart.

  Kendall blushed a healthy shade of red and clammed up, devoting his attention to his half-empty lunch platter. He stuffed his mouth to keep from speaking and then turned expectant eyes to Neil, silently asking for a rescue.

  Neil didn’t have to help, because he was suddenly the focus of Elyenka’s attention.

  “You,” she said, jabbing a finger at Neil. “Talk. What were you going to say about the tube catching on fire and whatnot? Did you see what you were going to be?”

  “That was you? The tube on fire?” Kendall whistled. “You don’t do anything in halves, do you?” He ducked his head at Elyenka’s glare. “I’m eating, I’m eating,” he mumbled.

  Neil shook his head, quickly. “I have no clue,” he said, carefully. “I don’t know if it’s accurate either. The Medic says it might not have been calibrated properly when I stepped in and so whatever result it could’ve been, wouldn’t be right.”

  “So you did see something?” Elyenka prompted. “What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” Neil protested. “Really! There wasn’t any time for me to see anything. Just a shadow. A great big hulking shadow and nothing.”

  “Big?” Kendall swallowed, staring at him in confusion. “Big like how?”

  Neil shrugged, helplessly. “I-I don’t know, just big.” He gestured with his hands. “It was very hazy; I couldn’t make out anything definite. It was starting to shrink a bit when the explosion started.”

  “How did you know it was an explosion?”

  “The ground shook, the lights went off and I smelled smoke?” Neil retorted. “I know what an explosion is like, Yenka.”

  She sniffed, waving one hand at him. “I’m not saying you don’t, I just wanted to know what made you so sure. Did anything else happen? Something to trigger it?”

  “Trigger what? The explosion? I didn’t do that! I barely have enough magical talent to-”

  “Yes, yes, I know that,” Elyenka snorted. Personally, she thought that he never gave himself enough credit, but there was no way to legally trace his magical lineage without costing a brain and a heart, so she’d left that alone. “What I mean is, did something happen? Did you hit a button or a secret switch or something?”

  “There’s no buttons in there, just the visor and what secret switch? There shouldn’t be any secret switch in a thing like that; I could get killed for trying to cheat the test!” Neil shuddered. He really didn’t want to think about that.

  “Cheat the test, Neil?” Derek Marsten asked. His grey eyes gleamed wickedly. “What a surprise—then again, I saw it coming years ago. You scholarship scum aren’t fit to even sweep the dirt from the floors of this fine institute and yet idiots like yourself take tests and ruin our expensive equipment.”

  Elyenka’s head snapped up, her thick, perfectly straight hair swished over her shoulders and fell past her waist as she stood to her full height, a good two inches over Derek. “If you’d like to make something of it, Marsten,” she began, calmly—too calmly. “Keep talking.”

  Kendall blanched. He looked between Derek, Neil and Elyenka. He swallowed his final mouthful and stumbled to his feet. “Yenka,”

  “If you’re going to stop me, I’ll deck you too,” she snapped, her eyes still fixed on Derek’s rapidly paling form. She watched him back away.

  “Y-you’re crazy, you witch!” He stammered.

  “I’ve heard it all—turn and run you bastard!” Elyenka’s green eyes flashed a few shades lighter, a flicker of silver visible for a mere second, before it vanished. As she turned away, her magic crackled around her clenched fists. “Witch. As if that’s supposed to be an insult. I am a witch, it’s not like I can change that.” She tossed her head. “You two done? How long does it take to eat lunch?”

  “Done,” Kendall said, hastily. “We’re done. Right Neil?”

  Neil lurched to his feet, pushing away the half-eaten tray. He hated to waste food, but trying to eat today’s fare had nearly made him throw up. Something about the meal had stirred his insides into rebellion and he didn’t feel up to bribing them into accepting any more.

  “Not hungry?” Elyenka’s expression softened as she stepped closer to peer into his face. “You look a bit peaky.”

  “I just don’t feel very hungry.” Neil said, swiping the unopened fruit cup that had taken up the dessert section of the assigned lunch tray. “I’ll snack on this later.”

  Elyenka sighed, and then glared when Kendall swiped a few bites off of Neil’s half-empty tray. “Make sure you do, but if you’re not feeling well, maybe you should go lie down and rest a bit.”

  “It’s the middle of the day,” Kendall protested. “He looks fine to me.”

  “Actually, a nap sounds good,” Neil allowed himself to be towed out of the cafeteria and down the Academy halls. His mind was growing fuzzy and he was having trouble keeping directions straight in his head.

  “Do you have to work or anything?” Elyenka asked. “Anything I can help you with? What about your homework? Is it done?”

  “You never help with my homework,” Kendall whined. He dodged behind Neil when his friend sent him a look. “I’m just saying.”

  “That’s because you never make an effort to do your homework,” Elyenka said, tartly. “Neil actually tries, the poor thing.” She reached over and gently felt his forehead. “You don’t feel warm, but maybe you should visit the Medbay today instead of waiting for tomorrow.”

  Neil grimaced. “I have to go tomorrow, I really don’t want to-”

  “You can use my Medcard, if you need to,” Elyenka fished in her pocket for her sparkly wallet and drew out the plastic card that held her allotted medical credits for the month. As an Elite student, she had access to fastracked medical care and extra credits for minor things such as a stomachache or headache.

  “It’s fine, please,” Neil said, holding up his hands, the fruit cup held between them. “Really, Elyenka.”

  She paused, staring at him with narrowed eyes at the use of her full name. It was almost something of a safe word between them—used rarely and only when there was a limit they didn’t want her to cross. After a moment, she stuffed the card back in her pocket. “Fine. But off to bed with you, especially if you don’t have any other things to do for today.”

  ??
?Give him a break, Yenka,” Kendall said, scratching his head. “He can look out for himself, I’m sure he’s fine, right?” He looked at Neil, the first tinge of worry showing in his sky-blue eyes.

  Neil managed a weak smile. He didn’t want to be around for the argument that was sure to start up from those words. “I’ll be fine,” he said, quickly. “Really. See you later.”

  Elyenka sighed and watched him leave, before she turned on Kendall. Neil stifled a wince and hurried ‘round the corner. They were good friends—his only friends, if he had to be honest—and he would be lost without them.

  In spite of her overbearing ways at times, Elyenka had saved both of them on numerous occasions with practical applications of her brilliant mind. Kendall was the easy-going one in their group, secure in his middle class life and content with their friendships, uncaring that Neil was a scholarship student and Elyenka was an Elite. His friendship made their trio work and on days like today, Neil was grateful that he kept Elyenka from breathing down his neck.

  He trotted down the walkways, keeping an eye out for any Elite students. General students usually didn’t give him any trouble, but there were some Elites, like Derek, who believed that he belonged out in the streets doing the dirty work that no one else wished to undertake.

  Academy rules dictated that they were to keep out of each other’s way if they could not get along and that was meant literally, at times. There were ways to tell if the rule was ignored or not and Neil had never disobeyed it to date.

  A slight chill rippled over him and he scowled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He didn’t remember his nose running or the chills, but it seemed that the moment he’d moved out of range from his friends, his body had begun to rebel.

  His stomach rumbled as he made the long trek up the ramp to the sleeping quarters where all the students resided. His stomach clenched and a wave of nausea washed over him again, this time much stronger than before.

  With fumbling fingers, Neil popped the cover off of the fruit cup and tipped it up into his mouth, chewing hastily and swallowing down the lukewarm cubes. The tart, crunchy sweetness made his body perk up in relief and he found his footsteps faltering before he could make it up the last leg of the ramp.

  He had no warning before his stomach roiled and heaved.

  Five seconds later, one lurching heave brought his hated lunch up. Neil managed to turn to the side, right before he vomited up the entire lunch and the few precious mouthfuls of fruit he’d managed to swallow.

  He doubled over, his head pressed against the wall, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he dry heaved a few more times, torn between distress and disgust at the mess he’d just made. The fruit cup had fallen from his hands and rolled away down the sloped ramp.

  A minute or two passed before Neil was able to gather himself together. He reached inside of him for his magical energy, intending to use it to banish the mess away, only to find that the magical flame within, flickered and faded, leaving him feeling hollow inside.

  Frozen in shock, Neil tried again and again, only to discover the result was the same. He pressed his lips together even as a sound of desperation welled up in his throat. Today had just been one bad thing after another. He sucked in a breath, squared his shoulders and crumpled forward again when he heaved once more, his stomach stubbornly refusing to settle down.

  He was gasping and coughing through one fit, when a quiet voice sounded off to his left.

  “Are you alright?”

  Neil jerked upright, feeling his face warm in mortification. He put a hand to his mouth, catching sight of the Elite student badge and uniform, a few seconds too late. “I’m sorry!” He managed to squeak out. “I’m very sorry, please—please excuse me.” He coughed again, shuddering.

  “That’s not what I asked,” the Elite student said, mildly. “And I can see that you’re very sorry. What happened?” A warm, gentle hand took hold of Neil’s elbow and guided him away from the wall and the mess, a few feet away. “Sit and put your head between your knees,” he instructed. “You look terrible.”

  Neil bit back the protest in his mouth and reluctantly slid down to sit on the floor. Sitting sounded like a brilliant idea and somewhere in the back of his head, he remembered Elyenka once coaching Kendall to put his head between his knees until nausea passed. Obediently leaning forward, Neil was careful to keep his head between his knees, relieved to feel himself calming.

  The warm hand that had held his elbow, now pressed lightly on his head, as if to make sure that Neil was following the prescribed instructions.

  “That’s it,” the Elite student soothed. “You’re fine. There we go.” He patted Neil’s head and turned to look down the hallway.

  Neil felt the residual ripple of magic and when the odd, sick stench vanished, he knew that the vomit puddle had been cleaned. A faint chill passed through him and his mouth was flooded with the taste of mint—a freshening charm to rid himself of the horrid taste in his mouth. He nearly choked in surprise. That was a very kind, unexpected gesture.

  He sucked in a few, careful, shaky breaths and then caught sight of a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye.

  His mangled fruit cup had been placed beside him, practically empty and partially squashed. A quiet whimper escaped. He’d actually been looking forward to it, strange as it was. The few mouthfuls he’d managed to swallow had been pure ambrosia right before his stomach had disagreed.

  “Stomach bug?” The Elite student asked, pleasantly.

  Neil’s head jerked up and he found himself staring into rich, dark brown eyes, accented by a lovely, thin-lipped smile. Benjamin Carson, Elite student, sole heir to the Carson conglomerate fortune, number one student in the male division and one of the few capable of tying with Elyenka on the coed ranking tests.

  Benjamin traveled in the same circles as Derek, but like Elyenka, he kept to himself and made his own reputation. Most Elite students stuck together because they’d known each other since their diaper years, while others simply saw it as more advantageous to make the most of their potential friendships in hopes that they would become working professional relationships by the time they graduated.

  “N-no, I just—I wasn’t feeling good. Sorry. I uh,”

  “No need to apologize for something that you have no control over,” Benjamin said, still smiling. “Sorry about the fruit cup. I kind of stepped on it when I came around the corner.”

  Neil’s shoulders hunched up and forward. “Sorry,” he started to say, stopping in frustration.

  Benjamin chuckled. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone has off days. I’d probably suggest skipping whatever it was that you ate though, next time it comes around.”

  Neil managed a careful nod, testing his magic again, only to find that there really was no sputter or flicker. That worried him much more than the fact that he’d imposed on an Elite student. “Thank you for your help,” he said, formally, moving to stand on his own with some difficulty. He had to brace against the wall for a moment, before he could stand on his own, but he counted it as a success anyway. “Is there something I can do in return for-?”

  “Benjamin Carson,” Benjamin said, holding his hand out, a curious light in his eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve ever been introduced.”

  Neil blinked. He looked from Benjamin’s hand to the squashed fruit cup on the floor and then to the strangely empty hallway. Cautiously, he shook the proffered hand, yanking his own back as quickly as he could. “Pleasure.”

  “You’re supposed to introduce yourself as well,” Benjamin prompted. “That is usually how these things work.” His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile, but wasn’t quite sure that he should.

  “Neilson Hewitt,” Neil said, stiffly. “Is that all you require?”

  “No,” Benjamin said, calmly. He slid his schoolbag off of his shoulder and braced it in front of him, rummaging through the contents to produce a slightly batte
red, but intact fruit cup. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

  Neil backed into the wall—though it wasn’t far to go. He looked from the fruit cup to Benjamin’s friendly face. He could count on one hand the number of interactions he’d had with him before. “I can’t accept that,” he began.

  “Sure you can.” Benjamin said. “Fruit cups usually don’t give you an allergic reaction and half of them contain naturally occurring digestive enzymes, so it’s probably better for your stomach than anything else right now.”

  “But-!”

  “Take it, please.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not poisoned or anything, I am not one of those,” Benjamin said, his lips twitched again, but this time, his eyes seemed to have a sparkle to them. “I am offering it to you because I have no reason not to and I just didn’t want to throw it out at lunch. Seemed like a waste.” He waved a hand at Neil’s crushed fruit cup on the ground. It vanished at once. “Enjoy!”

  Neil found himself holding Benjamin’s replacement fruit cup—with a tiny spoon included—and a napkin. He was still standing there, staring after the Elite student, long after Benjamin nodded at him and continued onward to the private dorms.