Flight Mage Seraph

Travellers

"Um-"

Sara stood a few metres in front of Seraph, who sat upon a rock, happily swinging one leg. To her right sat Caleb and to her left Combustion. None of them looked threatening at that moment, but she felt trapped. Maybe she should not have agreed to the lessons; she would have been taught at the Academy anyway.

"Let's start, Hugh," Combustion said impatiently.

Seraph abruptly stopped swinging his leg and looked up. "OK, Sara, before I begin, I need to know what you can do."

"N-not much."

Seraph continued to smile, although she doubted her answer impressed him. "Why don't you show me?"

She didn't want to, but Sara knew an order when she heard one. She concentrated and, slowly, she floated up until her feet were a metre from the ground. There she stopped, not daring to go any higher. Even at this height, she was gritting her teeth from the effort of keeping herself both aloft and upright.

"I see," Combustion muttered to himself. "What she meant by 'I can't do it' was she couldn't fly, only float."

"All right," Seraph said. "Now move forward without gaining or losing height."

He had to be joking! She tried to stare at him but she immediately lost her concentration. The world revolved around her and she crashed onto her back.

Combustion was immediately at her side. Kneeling, he asked, "Are you all right? Hugh, she could have broken a bone!"

"That's why I found a spot with soft soil and plenty of grass," Seraph replied. He was obviously trying not to laugh.

Rubbing her aching back and blushing furiously, she picked herself up and glared at Seraph. "It's not funny!" Sara screamed.

"Sorry, sorry. I just remembered seeing this several times before. You are far from the first person to have this problem and some of those who had it became accomplished mages."

"Were you one of them?" she asked hopefully.

Seraph shifted in his seat. "Ah...no, but I can fix it. When you float, what do you lift?"

"Myself," she said, confused.

"Which part of yourself? Your hips? Your legs?"

She stared. How did he know?

"Most flight mages begin by trying to lift just one part of their body to bring the rest up. That is fine, but only if the body part is above the centre of gravity. The further down you go, the harder it is to stay upright and once you flip, you lose the concentration you need to fly.

"Try again, but lift yourself by the shoulders."

"Not her head?" Combustion asked.

Seraph shook his head. "That would be uncomfortable and unsafe. Ready, Sara?"

She nodded, even though she didn't understand half of what he said. She imagined a giant grabbing her shoulders and lifting her up, leaving her legs to dangle. The lack of support on her feet discomforted her, but anxiety quickly gave way to exhilaration.

"Not too high!" Seraph called. "Now, see how long you can remain aloft."

Freed from the effort of keeping herself balanced, she initially found her task easy. She watched as Seraph counted under his breath. When he had passed 400, she began to feel the strain. After 500, she started to wobble and sweat. Sara stopped listening to him to concentrate, so when she collapsed, she didn't know how far he had gone.

"694," Seraph said. "You have talent. We'll continue the lesson tomorrow, OK?"

"All right," she said weakly. She didn't know whether she could stand, so heavy did her body feel.

If her exhaustion dismayed Seraph, he hid it well. He spoke to Caleb and a short while later, she found herself being gently carried by the angel. The two mages walked a short distance in front of them, perhaps out of habit, but still close enough for her to overhear their conversation.

"Not bad," Combustion was saying. "Did you need to push her so hard though?"

"I'm afraid so. My first lesson was like this, as was that of every other flight mage." Seraph sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"She would do much better with another teacher. I am inexperienced and I didn't handle that lesson well at all."

"Didn't handle it well?" Combustion chuckled. "You have some strange ideas. In one morning, you have greatly improved Sara's abilities and given her confidence. Just remember not to laugh at your students, to explain terms such as 'centre of gravity' and to make your future lessons less tiring, please!"

"And what did you think?" Caleb whispered to her.

"Seraph is pretty nice, Holiness," she said and drifted off to sleep.

---

Combustion regretted his inability to recover more coins from the wreckage. He had enough for food and clothing, but not horses. Although the group had gradually adapted to hours of walking each day, it was rather inconvenient.

Fortunately, he knew a place where they could find shelter, supplies, horses and perhaps even a cart. It was a small fortress that was being built by the Westerners to keep Midlands' Easterners under control. The soldiers had barely begun constructing it when the fire mage last visited, but it should be reasonably sturdy by now and Combustion had the advantage of being known to the mage of that fort, as well as a seal given by the Great Mage Daylight II himself. Even if nobody there recognized Combustion, the seal obligated them to assist him in whatever way they could.

There was just one problem. Caleb insisted on being seen by as few people as possible. He wished to reveal himself to the Sentralians only after they climbed the very same hill that the angel Nahum had appeared on many years ago. Combustion considered his dramatic impulse ridiculous. He wanted to spend a night with a roof over his head! If that angel remained stubborn on that matter, he could just sleep outside and wait for his companions to-

"Something strange is happening over there."

That came from Sara, who had floated onto one of the higher branches of a tall tree and seemed to be pointing to a distant area. Combustion frowned; it was dangerous for her to fly so high while still inexperienced. He looked for Seraph, but the man was nowhere in sight. Panic began to seize the fire mage. How could he have taken his eyes off the prisoner?

Then he noticed Caleb pointing up the tree. Seraph was almost hidden behind Sara and a branch. "You two!" Combustion shouted. "Come back this instant!"

They obeyed and the fire mage scowled at Seraph. "What did you think you were doing, Hugh? That was dangerous."

"It's my fault," Sara intervened. "I flew higher without permission and Seraph had to follow so he could catch me if I fall."

Combustion turned, but Seraph spoke before he could scold her. "Something unusual is occurring, Shuzay. A large number of people are leaving a town and they look unhappy."

"Their departure does not seem unusual," Caleb said. "It is natural for Easterners to travel to Angalas at this time of the year. After all, the Angel Festival begins in a few days."

Sara clapped her hands excitedly. "That's right! Nahum came to Angel Hill, in Angalas, to give people magic powers..."

Which were distributed very unevenly, Combustion thought.

"...and this year is special because it's the 1000th anniversary of His visit! If they're only leaving now, maybe we'll reach Angalas in time for the festival too!" She squealed and jumped up and down. Caleb and Seraph both grinned.

Combustion, however, frowned. His instincts were telling him that Seraph was uninclined to make dire conjectures for no reason. "What made you think those people were upset?" he asked the flight mage. "Were they wearing black as if in mourning?"

"Uh, no," Seraph replied, startled out of his excitement. "It was the way they moved. They were moving determinedly and aggressively; some were swinging sticks at the grass as if the plants offended them."

Sara abruptly stopped bouncing around. "I think I saw bows and arrows, clubs and pitchforks too," Sara added, a hint of suspicion entering her voice.

"Perhaps they are hunting?" Caleb offered weakly.

"If they are, they aren't hunting animals," Combustion said. "I don't know what is happening, but I say we should follow them and discover their plans. If the vegetation thins out too much to provide cover, I want you and Sara to stay back and wait for Seraph and I."

"We should not waste our precious time on trivial matters," the angel protested.

"Just what is your problem, Caleb?" Combustion snapped, "You have trusted me to lead this group since you joined us and my judgment is as sound now as it has ever been. If I say this is worth investigating, it is! Let's go, Hugh." And he dragged the flustered flight mage away.

---

By early evening, it was clear that all was not well. Another large group and then a third, had joined the townspeople. Finally, the rabble had climbed a hill and stopped just below the peak to wait for a fourth group.

The crowd consisted of men and women of varying ages, each with the hard eyes of former soldiers. A few wore the uniforms of Eastern soldiers. Combustion saw all the weapons that Sara had mentioned and more. Many held swords and spears that they have either hidden from the Westerners or produced in secret and, more disturbingly, some had ladders, while several carried a battering ram.

Combustion signalled to Sara and Caleb, ordering them to stay behind. When the angel reluctantly nodded, he and Seraph left the cover of the bushes. They crawled through the long grass until they reached a rock not far from the crowd. To their relief, there was no cry of alarm and the people continued to murmur among themselves.

"You have done this before," Seraph whispered in his ear.

Combustion grunted. "I could not afford to be seen by Easterners who cannot differentiate between soldiers and civilians." Seraph flinched and he regretted his words immediately. "Sorry, I didn't mean that personally.

"In any case, I think I know what they are planning."

Seraph's eyes locked onto his. "Will this be a battle between Easterners and Westerners? Are we to take opposite sides?" His tone surprised Combustion. It was almost as if he were asking, "Must we really end our friendship now?" The Furan, however, could not determine what the flight mage was thinking from his expression.

"I hope not," he admitted and he surprised himself by gripping Seraph's hand. "Neither of us wants to become the enemy of the other, however, if the Easterners' plan is what I think it is and they succeed, Sentralia may plunge into war again. I will do what I can to prevent this, but I do not wish to harm your people."

So please don't interfere, he added silently.

"I-"

Seraph did not finish his reply because the crowd suddenly fell silent. Peering over the rock, Combustion saw a hooded woman walking towards the crowd, with a huge black dome following just a couple of metres behind her. She must be a vision or dark mage, he decided, but what or who was hidden inside the dome? Combustion feared the answer would prove an unpleasant surprise.

The woman removed her hood and Seraph stirred. "It is Image," he whispered.

Combustion nodded. Image was the most senior Eastern mage to have escaped the Western forces when they invaded East Sentralia. At that time, several witnesses had reported her seriously wounded and the Great Mage had hoped her condition would neutralize her permanently. No such luck. She had recovered to lead the Easterners of Midlands into battle.

Image spoke as the people gathered around her. "Thank you for your patience; after almost a month, we are ready to begin. Do you remember what to do?"

"Yes, Mage," a man answered. "When you are ready, we will march down this hill and then up to the fortress. We will keep at a safe distance until you either succeed or fail to intimidate the enemy into surrendering."

"I will create the illusion of many more attackers, including several surviving mages. Do not panic when these appear. With luck, the fortress will yield with little resistance."

"And then we'll kill every person and animal there," a woman said.

Image nodded. "Make sure that they all die," she told the woman. "We can't afford to allow the form mage to escape.

"Fellow Easterners, victory tonight is essential. If we are to rescue Ocean and overthrow Daylight, we must attack before the fortress' defences become too difficult to overwhelm and before our enemies could enlist aid. Should my illusions fail, spare no effort to conquer the fortress before sunrise. Ocean will retake his proper place as Great Mage and every Easterner thereafter will honour you as heroes!"

That was enough. The attack was about to begin and he knew Image's speech had stirred Seraph too. With a small gesture, he erected a long wall of fire at the top of the hill. The flames were not particularly hot and hovered above the grass, but he doubted that anyone would dare attempt to crawl under it.

As he expected, the crowd began to shriek. "We're blocked!" a man yelled.

"The Westerners are alerted!"

"They'll crush us!"

"Calm down!" Image roared. "We still have a chance. I will extinguish this fire."

"I would like to see her try," Combustion said to himself, even as he apprehensively glanced in Seraph's direction. Both mages knew that inhibiting the attack for a few minutes would save the Western soldiers. Would Seraph intervene?

"Fire mage, I know you are nearby!"

Seraph returned an anxious gaze. He appeared to be torn between his loyalty towards the Easterners and his desire to prevent more deaths, but he did not seem ready to attack Combustion yet.

"We have a hostage. Take a good look at him." The dark dome disappeared to reveal a Western soldier, bound, severely beaten and trapped between two stout men holding swords. "If you want him to live, surrender...actually, turn your flames against the Midlands fortress and I will release him into your care."

Combustion gritted his teeth. He would not condemn other Westerners to save one man, but he could not abandon the hostage either and to save both, he would have to attack the Easterners directly. This would surely turn Seraph against him.

"Well?" Image called.

Combustion turned and found Seraph leaning against the rock, his eyes squeezed shut. The flight mage's face was set in anger and his taut lips mouthed a prayer. Combustion did not need to read them to know Seraph was talking to spirits. Terror gripped him and he whispered, "Please don't summon the dragons."

"That fool refuses to respond!" Image raged. "Kill the hostage."

The sky exploded in a blaze of white light. Combustion could almost feel a force pushing him, face first, into the ground, where he lay trembling and gasping. He did not dare look up as stunned silence was replaced by screams and a stampede. Arms pulled him up against the safety of the rock and a moment later, the crowd passed, trampling over the spot where he had lain. If they noticed him, they no longer cared or were too frightened to deal with him. Following them were wave upon wave of ghosts, all calling after those they chased. He pressed himself back against Seraph and the flight mage responded with a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

A long time passed before the spirits disappeared and a longer time until the screams faded. Eventually, all Combustion heard were the rustling of grass in the wind and only then did he dare to emerge.

Combustion felt like yelling at Seraph for losing control over his spirit magic (again). At this time, however, he had more pressing concerns. He looked back to the hilltop. It was almost empty now. The hostage cowered on the ground, wide-eyed with terror, but alive. Image was unconscious, slumped against a young man. A slightly younger woman wielding a plank of wood stood beside them; she had evidently used it to knock Image out. The fire mage was struck by the pair's resemblance to Seraph.

The woman smiled at him. "We who died in the Mage War support the new-found peace, even though it was premature."

"Perdita?" Seraph staggered to Combustion's side. "And Brian?"

The young man looked away. "We wish you well, little brother. Please tell Maeryn I'm sorry."

"What?"

"She will understand."

With that, the pair vanished.