Flight Mage Seraph

Family

Seraph quickly became famous in his new neighbourhood as "the Man of Skeleton Forest". People kept asking him about how he survived the monsters in the woods, even though he could only reply, "I just remember rushing as fast as I can with my arms held up to shield me." Fortunately, no one asked him why he didn't bump into any trees or creatures. He didn’t want to explain that he flew over them all.

He was thankful too that he could rely on the roof thatching and farming skills he had learned from his family. They were abilities that his hosts valued and the Sudeni, tolerant though they were, would not have appreciated him as a mage.

Seraph discovered this soon after he arrived. He and Landis were cleaning out the stables, a task Seraph considered tedious and somewhat disgusting. When living with his family, he had always avoided this job, whether by finding something else to do or escaping to the sky. Since Landis had been so kind as to take him in, however, Seraph did not consider either action appropriate. And at least he had someone to talk to this time.

On that particular morning, Landis was interested in the Mage War. “So what were they fighting over?” he asked.

It was not Seraph’s favourite topic, but he felt obliged to answer. “It was a religious war I suppose. Both sides claimed the Great Mage position and both said that the angels favour them.”

“I’ve heard something like that too. Several times. So shouldn’t it have ended when the original claimants died, say 460 or so years ago?”

“Maybe,” Seraph shrugged, “except by this time, the Westerners had killed so many of our mages that they had permanently lost the angels’ favour. We couldn’t afford to allow any of their mages control over Sentralia.”

Landis grunted. “Is that what your mages told you? Typical! Mages lie to you, tell you they’re special just ’cause some angel gave humans magic, make you fight their stupid feuds. I say that if angels favoured one side or another, they would’ve made it obvious long ago. Sentralia should have followed Sudenland’s example and kept their mages out of power!”

Seraph almost dropped his spade. Landis’ words reminded him uncomfortably of Maeryn, who never thought much of him as a mage. Of course, he thought ruefully, she was probably right. He was just a rural boy who happened to be able to fly, not a saviour or a leader. He did not even come from one of the prestigious mage families!

“At least you are beyond their influence now,” Landis continued, oblivious to Seraph’s consternation. “Not thinking about returning to fight a guerrilla war against the West Sentralians, are you?”

Seraph shrugged sadly and began shovelling again. “I can do nothing about it, so I must hope the Easterners still in Sentralia will cope.”

The prophecy mage who gave him such an impressive name must have confused him for someone else, he decided. How could this ‘Seraph’ ever fulfil the Easterners’ expectations?

---

By the end of the month, Seraph almost felt content with the idea of a life on the farm, even if it was in exile. His days were spent hard at work beside fellow farm hands, neighbours and Landis’ large family. He loved the camaraderie, loved the animals, loved the open, green fields, loved the sunshine and the rain. Most of all, he enjoyed a freedom that he had not experienced since he was taken to the Academy and given his mage name.

Evenings were always the best part of Seraph’s day, despite reminding him of the nights he used to spend with his family, when he had holidays. Landis' family and workers would gather for dinner and some fireside entertainment and they often encouraged Seraph to play his recorder, saying, "No one can lift our hearts as you can." The few that had instruments accompanied him while others sang along, especially Landis’ eldest daughter, Dulcie, who was blessed with a sweet voice and who finished many songs with a smile in his direction. He loved it all: the friendly attention, the way Landis resembled his father when firelight reflected from his face, the music and the laughter. When everyone had gone to bed, homesickness always overwhelmed him and he would lay in bed, hoping to see his family in his dreams.

He sometimes saw them there, but his dreams were usually filled with the violence and terror of war. Traps were sprung. Zombies, ghosts and soldiers in flying machines pursued. Large birds pecked and clawed. Each time, Seraph and his fellow flight mages tried to escape, to fly.

Flying was indeed what he did during at least one of his nightmares. He woke up to find himself hovering just beyond the forest's edge, where an unending, black mass of trees stood beneath thick clouds. Nothing moved and nothing made a sound—or so it seemed. A cloud then separated itself from the others and began drifting towards him. Seraph stared, fascinated, until sinuous arms stretched out as if to touch him. He flinched away. Whatever it was, the monster seemed large enough to attack and he did not wish to test his suspicion.

Seraph fled back to Landis' home, hoping that nobody had seen him fly out. There was no light inside, so he landed on the roof with a relieved sigh. He clambered over to the window that led to his bedroom and—

"Good morning, Hugh."

Seraph nearly fell off the roof. "L-Landis! Uh…I was restless and decided to sit out here for a while. I'm sorry if I made too much noise."

"That’s all right, Seraph. Let me help you in."

He offered a hand and Seraph allowed Landis to assist him. "Thanks, sir."

"You're welcome," he chuckled, "Not a very good liar, are you?"

Seraph froze, suddenly realizing he'd responded to his mage name instead of his birth name. "How d-did you know?" he asked and felt like slapping himself for asking such an irrelevant question.

"Heh. I read people well and I’ve noticed that you always held something back. Oh, you tell the truth, but you never told us everything, especially in relation to the Mage War. I suppose I could've decided you were too much trouble and sent you away, except that I knew that you meant no harm.

"And the way you passed through Skeleton Forest. You had no weapon, shield or armour by the time you reached us, yet you only had a few scratches. It made no sense unless you have special powers." He paused thoughtfully. "Still, even when flying above that cursed woods, you were lucky not to have been caught by those floating beasts. Cloud giants we call them and I've seen a couple near the forests' edge."

Seraph shuddered. "I think I saw one after my sleepflying episode."

"Is that so? Well, they won't leave the forest, so you're safe here.

"What was I talking about? Oh, yes. You claimed to come from the countryside and a family of thatchers. I'll grant that you're a fast learner, but you were a little too uncertain about some basic farming tasks at first. You moved to a city at a young age, didn’t you?”

“Uh, yes,” he answered in amazement. “At seven. To study at the Academy.”

"I also saw you flying a few times, when you thought no one was looking."

Seraph flushed with embarrassment. He didn't know that he had been that obvious. "How many others know about me and how did you discover my mage name?"

"To the first question, nobody else knows who or what you are yet, but they're observant and it's only a matter of time before you confirm their suspicions. Even when awake, you can't seem to resist using your magic."

"I like flying," Seraph said defensively.

Landis laughed and then sobered. "As for the second, a messenger from the king came yesterday. You were working elsewhere at the time, so you didn't hear his message, but almost everyone else did. The West Sentralians have been looking for you for almost a month. They're pestering King Wilfred to hand you over to them if and when he finds you—and the king doesn't want trouble from their mages."

"But I can't return." Seraph leant back against the windowsill in despair. "They might kill me."

"I understand your predicament, but there's something else you should know. They've taken your family prisoner and they won't let them go until either you come to Angalas or they confirm your death."

"My family?" Seraph whispered. Peony and Amory, he remembered, were expecting a baby. His nephews were much too young to live in cramped, dark cells and his parents were too old. How long could they survive under such conditions? "I must go back."

---

Seraph remained at Landis' farm only long enough to gather his few belongings, eat a quick breakfast and apologise to his neighbours. To his surprise, everyone wished him well and plied him with food for his journey. Dulcie actually wept as she said that he would have made a good husband.

"I don't think they heard when I said that I’d deceived them," Seraph said as he and Landis walked outside.

Landis grinned. "Well, we might've done the same in your situation. Besides, you're not at all what we'd expect a mage to be: arrogant, lazy, mischievous, petty, bullying and standoffish. You could’ve tried to control and manipulate us, but you’ve really tried to be part of the community."

The farmer wiped away a tear and squinted at the gathering clouds. "It'll be a rotten day. Lots of rain. Maybe lightning. Are you sure you want to fly in this weather? You should stay here until it clears up or at least borrow a horse."

"I'll risk it." Seraph pulled his hood up as the first drops splashed his face. "I can fly faster and longer than a horse can run. Thank you, Landis."

"Good luck, lad!"