Alex dug her heels into Mr Fluffles’ sides and spurred him ahead of Link’s slothful horse Wildfire. The scent of mixed herbs and spices filled her nostrils as she cantered past a group of merchants wheeling their wagons. She weaved in and out the clusters of travellers; most of them on foot, some atop horses or mules. There were farm folk carrying their produce, singers plucking the strings of their viols and harps, and dirt-smudged kids chasing one another and giggling.
Alex lifted her gaze to the colossal, ivory stone wall reaching up into the clouds above and felt dizzy. How many years would it have taken to make them? How many frost giants, Earth, and telekinetic mages worked laboriously from dusk till dawn?
I should have asked Foragoon when I had the chance, she thought dismally.
Even from a mile away, Alex could see the outline of catapults and archers patrolling the parapets. Besides their sheer size, the main reason Iralda’s four walls had been impenetrable for close to a decade was a credit to their archers’ unmatched skills with a bow and arrow.
Iralda’s archers were some of the best in the land. Those among them that were Gifted dedicated their lives to studying an ocular branch of magic. Combine this with being handed a bow and arrow as soon as they popped out of the womb, and the very best of them could skewer a hare from a thousand yards away.
“On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you?” Link asked as he caught up to his sister. He was riding on top of Wildfire, although Alex wouldn’t exactly call it “riding.” To her it looked more like “trying not to fall off.”
Before she could respond, her brother threw his head back and paused for a moment, then sneezed out loud. The cold storm Xavier had cast down resulted in him catching a cold. For a whole day they had to travel to Iralda through the nonstop downpour. Their horses trudging through mud so deep it sucked them in like quicksand, having to make numerous detours around flooded paths. Not even being able to make a fire to keep them warm, the rain had gotten so bad Alex had even toyed with the idea of building an ark.
Luckily, Link put his ego aside and gave a five-minute, heartfelt apology to Xavier, eventually persuading him to call off the storm. They had learned the hard way it wasn’t wise to get on Xavier’s bad side.
“Pretty nervous,” Alex answered, taking off her gloves to show Link her fingernails. She had nibbled them so much they were practically half missing. “About an eleven, I’d say.”
Link’s throat tightened. “Same.”
Wait a second, no reassuring words, no pep talks? Alex thought. No cheesy lines like, “Don’t worry, Alex; we’re going to get through this, OK?”
“Am I speaking to the autopilot Link right now or the real one?” Alex asked over the honeyed voices of the singers behind them, strumming their instruments. The question sounded stranger out loud than in her head.
Link glanced at her warily, as if contemplating whether he should answer or not. “Autopilot.”
Alex nibbled her bottom lip. “Man, this is weird.”
“Why?” he asked, shifting uneasily in his saddle. “It’s still me, Alex.”
“No, it’s not,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re not the Link I grew up with.”
“I have all the same memories, mannerisms—”
“You’re not Link,” she said, cutting him off. “So—so do us both a favour and just stop pretending to be, OK?”
Alex felt it was all unfair. Unfair she was stuck in Nocera twenty-four-seven while he was out there living his life, getting to see Mom, Dad, his friends. Unfair he got to do the normal things she’d never get to: experience prom, get her driver’s license, go to college. And Alex would never admit this to him because she knew it would’ve crushed him like a wrecking ball to the chest, but a part of her hated the fact he was responsible for the accident.
“What’s wrong, Alex?” Link asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, Auto Link,” she said, her voice oozing with sarcasm. “Maybe because right now, I’m simultaneously in Nocera while also lying in a hospital room in what everyone thinks is a coma but is actually a trance. Or maybe it’s the fact we are being tortured by some mystery, diabolical, wise-cracking God, who’s hell-bent on destroying our lives? Take your pick.”
Link’s face softened. “Alex, you have every right to be angry. But I promise—”
“You missed your cue for reassuring words a while back, Auto Link,” she snapped. “If you want to impersonate my brother you’ve got to do a better job than this.”
The crowd of people ahead came to a halt in front of two guards clad in leather armour and draped in royal blue cloaks down to their feet, the customary cloaks for all mages in Iralda. As the siblings dogged behind the crowd, Alex could see her brother staring at her in her peripheral vision. She had to give him credit; even though this was autopilot Link, he was acting exactly like her brother would. That scared her. A lot.
The more Alex dwelt on it, the more she figured she should apologize to him. What she said was a little too harsh. Besides, when the real Link came back to Nocera he’d obtain all of Auto Link’s memories, or at least that’s how her brother had explained it. And she didn’t want him to feel any crummier than he already did.
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered sincerely, slowing her horse down to a trot to match Wildfire. “I shouldn’t be taking this all out on you. It’s Xavier I should be mad at.”
“No, you have every right to be mad at me,” Link said, slouching his shoulders forwards. “I’m the one that caused the accident. Maybe if I hadn’t we wouldn’t be in Nocera right now.”
For the remainder of the short ride to Iralda’s bronze gates, not a word was said between them. Alex felt awful. Even though this was Auto Link, he still shared the same memories and emotions her real brother did. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine how hard it must have been for him, seeing the whole car crash play out before his eyes. And even in the real world, seeing her lifeless in a hospital room in what everyone presumed to be a coma.
Only Link knew the truth. And he couldn’t tell a soul because no one would believe him. Even Alex had thought he was crazy when he first told her what was happening, and she was the one trapped in Nocera with him.
The crowd ahead swarmed one by one into the gates, like grains of sand through an hour glass. As Alex and Link neared, they both dismounted their horses—well, technically, Alex did; Link ended up getting his foot stuck in one of the stirrups.
One guard stood to the right of the gate, tall and taut, his blond hair tied back in a ponytail, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. The other was a burly, dark-skinned man, with a gut so big it could rival their Dad’s beer belly. On both of their left arms was an iron armband with Iralda’s enamelled emblem: an eagle mid-flight clutching a crystal orb with its talons. The bird had its beak wide open, and a royal blue spiral flowed out from it, creating the emblem’s backdrop.
Alex cast a look down at the trimmings of their cloaks. Both these guards were gold cloaks. There were three rankings of mages in Iralda: copper trimmings for an Apprentice, silver for an Adept, and gold for a Master—one of the highest achievable rankings in the Order of Mist.
The guards had been letting past the travellers with scarcely a look, but as Alex and Link approached, both their heads lifted.
“Stop,” the tall man ordered in a voice as rough as sandpaper, “and whatever you do, do not state your business.” He stepped towards them, cloak flapping at his heels. His sharp, emerald eyes scanned over the pair of them, and then his thin lips curled upward. “Interesting. Interesting indeed.”
The burly man approached now, massaging his whiskers, his coffee-coloured eyes gauging them as well. “Tough one . . . all yours, Valencius.”
“Good. Because I think I have worked it out,” the tall man answered. Valencius repositioned the leather vambrace on his forearm, almost as if he were preparing for battle.
“Then, by all means.” The dark-skinned man said, rolling out an arm.
“Brother and sister,” Valencius said.
“Obviously,” the burly man spat.
“From . . . ” Valencius’ smile deepened as his eyes found the gorlac brooch pinned to Alex’s fur cloak. “ . . . From the city of Glayridge.”
She and Link exchanged a glance and then both shook their heads at the guard.
“From a village, then,” Valencius said, unfazed by his error. “Yes, a very cold village judging by your attire.”
Link nodded apprehensively.
Valencius thrust a bony hand out, his palm facing the sky. “Pay up,” he ordered his fellow guard.
The burly man scrunched up his round face in displeasure. “But you haven’t—”
“They both have the Gift,” Valencius said almost as if he were bored. “They are here to seek entry into Baylor’s Academy.”
The burly man turned to them, his brow creased in anger. “Well, is he right?”
“Yes,” Alex said, unsure of what could have given them away.
The dark-skinned man groaned and fumbled inside of his pouch. He pulled out two gold pieces and then reluctantly handed it to Valencius. “Well, go on then. Tell us how you knew.”
“Look closely,” Valencius said, pocketing the coins and inclining his head towards Link. “There are small scorch marks on this one’s sleeve. Firewielder. An inexperienced one at that.” He pointed to Alex half-heartedly. “And this one has a Waterwielding scroll peeping its head out from her horse’s pouch. Not very discreet.”
Veins throbbed in the burly man's neck. “Uh, Damn you and your hawk-like eyes!”
“Forgive my friend, Kreudo,” Valencius said, shaking his head. “If only he spent half as much time on his ocular skills as he did his drinking. To this day, I am still confused as to how he obtained his gold cloak.”
Kreudo hobbled back to his position by the gates, laughing off the insult.
“Proceed,” Valencius said, gesturing the two forwards with a hand. “And good luck with your training. If you survive long enough to make it to the Golden Gauntlet, perhaps I shall place a bet on the two of you.” He snickered to himself. “Who am I fooling? I will place a bet on the two of you. I have a gambling problem.”
Alex and Link laughed at him nervously as they headed through the arched gate and down a long, torch-lit tunnel running the entire length of the wall. The tunnel was manned by an assortment of mages positioned on opposite sides of one another, standing erect and motionless.
“Did we just get Sherlock Holmed?” Alex whispered to Link.
“I think so,” he said, dumbfounded. “And it was freaking awesome.”
They walked through the tunnel, passing underneath several spiked portcullis, their tips poking downwards threateningly like stalactites in a cave. The rows of mages watched them intently, making Alex feel violated with their supernatural eyesight.
Most academy students only tapped into the Eternal Source in combat or training, but Alex knew experienced mages such as these were taught to leave their Gates ajar from dusk till dawn. They took full advantage of their heightened senses, making them super intuitive weapons for Queen Enrah, the ruler of the Kingdom of Mist.
Alex stepped out of the tunnel and back into the sun's vague light, tasting the cold air once more. Her eyes burst open, marvelling at the expansive beauty sprawled out before her eyes. Vardis was miniature in comparison to what she saw here.
The first thing that caught her attention was a mountain rocketing into to the clouds like a jagged fang. But upon closer inspection, she realized the mountain wasn’t in fact a mountain. It was an enormous castle, rising steadily higher and higher until it reached its pointed peak; Queen Enrah’s Keep, or as the city folk referred to it: Dragon’s Tooth.
Surrounding the mountain, shrouded in mist, lay valleys and hills that swarmed with domes, towers, barracks, bridges, and granaries. All their architecture bathed in white, blue and grey colours. When the buildings came to a stop, the villages started, spreading out towards the city walls. Even from where they stood, smoke could be seen rising from huts, with tanning racks outside, stables filled with mares and stallions, and corn, wheat and barley fields stretched for miles on end.
“We are the architects, Alex,” Link said, taking in a breath of fresh air and gazing out at their city wide-eyed. “Everything you see here, we created. Xavier may have brought it to life but—” He snapped his head towards Alex. “Wait; are you crying?”
“No,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “There’s an eyelash in my eye, that’s all.”
Link laughed through his nose. “But you’re crying out of both them?”
“Shut up,” she hissed, “I’m allowed to tear up. It’s like when a mother looks at her baby for the first time. No one laughs at her, do they?”
“Valid point,” he said, suppressing a grin.
Baylor’s was positioned at the northernmost side of Iralda. As the architects, Alex and Link knew there were four flagstone roads that led from each of Iralda’s walls. These roads came together to form a crossroad in the heart of the city. And there, directly in the middle of the crossroad, surrounded by a circular moat that looked more like a giant lake, was Queen Enrah’s Keep.
The two looked at each other wide-eyed as they followed the throng of travellers that had preceded them. On either side of them, plains of tall brown grass stretched out for miles on end, swaying in the gentle breeze like ripples in a pond. Their horses’ hooves clonked against the stone pathway as they leaned out of their saddles and gazed at their surroundings with mouths open. By the time they had made it past the sleepy hamlets and golden-green corn fields that lay on the outskirts of the city, Alex’s thighs were cramping and her bum was pulsating with pain.
In front of their horses, gangs of children trampled over wildflowers and leaped across rocks as they chased one another, their wooden sticks cracking together when they met. Link cursed at them and told them to get out of the way, but when he wasn’t looking, Alex handed them some dried meat she had brought from Vardis. They snatched it eagerly and sped off in the opposite direction.
A tremendous six-legged beast caught Alex’s attention in the distance. It was as big as an army tank, and had woolly, lemon-coloured hair all over. The beast had warm doe eyes and a pair of horns on its head that were shaped like boomerangs.
“Look, Link, look, look, look,” she said, pointing to the powerful creature that was now grazing on a patch of dead grass. “An infirta.”
Infirtas were used for hauling heavy items like timber or stones, transporting mass goods from city to city, or even carrying squadrons of soldiers to battle. But due to their gentle and unintelligent behaviour, they were as useful on a battlefield as a blunted sword. They were the epitome of a gentle giant.
The infirta turned its boulder-sized head as Alex passed, its blank brown eyes tracking her, mouth moving sideways as its square teeth chewed the grass. It pawed at the ground, thumped its beaver-like tail on the ground twice, flared its nostrils, and then stomped away in search of a new grazing ground.
The siblings cantered past streams, fiery red from the reflection of the setting sun, through verdant green woods, and wheat fields that reached Alex’s hips, until finally, they approached the outer regions of the inner city.
Pale white and blue buildings multiplied and grew taller as they veered off the main road and weaved through the city’s cobbled and winding streets. Men and women wore dirt-stained and ragged dresses, tunics and leggings. Some of the wealthier wore doublets lined with jewels and silk gowns that rippled in the breeze like liquid.
They passed a long line of market stalls where men and women packed away skewers of meat, fresh vegetables and shiny goods. The mouth-watering smells of spices, marinades, and delicate pastries wafted through the air as they cantered by. Puppeteers were bagging away their puppets for the day and deconstructing their stands. A juggler with a pointed goatee seemed to be able to influence the balls he was hurling, making some drop fast and the others freeze in mid-air.
Cheat, she thought. He must be using magic.
Alex had a wide grin as she passed them all. She had to remind herself to come back during the daytime. Partly because she knew her stomach would end up resenting her if she didn’t. And partly because she’d kick herself if she missed out on experiencing this literally out-of-this-world culture.
****
Mr Fluffles’ big brown eyes watched Alex intently, his oversized teeth noisily chewing the handful of oats she had just given him. She looked around at his straw-covered dwelling. It was half the size of her room back in Phoenix.
How can a full-grown horse be expected to live here? she wondered.
The academy forbade live animals to dwell in their compounds, or for that matter, any non-Gifted. So, as much as it pained Alex, she was going to have to part ways with her noble steed.
Alex knew it wasn’t all bad, though. They had chosen the closest stable to Baylor’s Academy. So, if she ever got time off her training, Fluffles would only ever be a short walk away. But still, to her, leaving him was pure agony. She was even starting to like him more than the real Mr Fluffles back home.
Kissing Fluffles softly on his white spotted nose, Alex offered him her last apple. He chewed it gratefully, his watchful eyes never leaving hers. The mammal couldn’t understand a word she spoke. But he didn’t have to. Her body language was loud and clear. The horse somehow knew she was leaving.
Link tugged Alex away by the arm. Mr Fluffles whinnied out loud, flaring his nostrils and whipping his head from side to side, almost as if he knew this may be the last time he’d see her for a long while.
“I’m sorry Mr Fluffles,” Alex called out, trying to wriggle out of brother’s grasp. “I’ll be back soon! I-I’ll miss you; make sure to—” Link jerked her by the arm harder. “Make lots of friends! Mommy loves you.”
Man, I really do suck at goodbyes.
****
The afternoon sun hung low in the cloudless sky as Alex and Link got their first look at their new school. The academy had the same oval-like structure as the Colosseum, with an enormous grey statue twice the size of Lady Liberty standing stoutly in the centre. Wavy hair fell to the statue’s shoulders, and both of its hands rested on the pommel of a greatsword it had stuck into the earth.
Alex assumed the statue was the founder of the academy, Kilaydis’ father Baylor, as it depicted the same fair and narrow features their species, the Dagorians, tended to possess. Baylor, unlike his two sons that succeeded him, was one of the good guys. On top of building the academy, Baylor showed the land that being granted access to the Eternal Source wasn’t in fact a curse, it was a gift. That magic shouldn’t be feared or even hidden, but instead tamed and allowed to flourish.
Gazing out at the academy, Alex’s stomach lurched as she thought about what would be expected from them the next few months: non-stop training barked at them by the master mages, mental and physical demands they’d be expected to meet, and bruises and cuts their bodies would endure. If Taytora and Deonis struggled through their time here, Alex suspected they were going to flounder like fish on dry land.
A dreadful thought crossed her mind as she gawked at the mountainous statue: When she and Link had written the book, they had fast-forwarded their characters’ time at Baylor’s Academy and even most of the Golden Gauntlet. So, what she and her brother were about to walk into now was completely unscripted. Her breathing quickened when she thought about that. Behind the academy’s doors was the unknown. The unpredictable, unimaginable unknown.
As the pair moved closer and closer to the massive structure, something outside the entrance Alex had first thought was a statue moved. That was when she looked again and realized it was alive.
A ten-foot creature, half the size of Foragoon and clad in silver plate armour from head to toe guarded the entrance. In its left hand, the creature carried a rectangular shield; in its right, it held a spear so long and sharp it could have skewered Alex and Link like satay meat. The strange sight triggered something inside of Alex, and her body became rigid.
“Nope,” she said to Link. “I can’t do this. Nope.”
Her brother whirled around, the motion causing his cloak to flap across his body. “Can’t what?”
Alex shook her head at him vigorously, causing her hair to flick her in the eyes. “Do this. I’ve tried to put on a brave face, but this is it. I can’t put another foot forwards . . . I won’t.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“T-This!” she spluttered, hands gesturing towards the academy. “Look at that humongous guard, Link. I have no memory of that being in our book. Behind that creature—Behind that door is-is God-knows-what! This is the part where we time skip in our book.”
“Really?” Link asked, looking at her in utter disbelief as he stormed towards her. “You’re deciding to get cold feet right now? Right as we’re about to enter the academy?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alex said sarcastically, “would you have preferred I flipped out back at the Sleeping Willow? The stable, maybe?”
“Yes!” Link yelled, throwing his hands out to the side. “Yes, any time would be better than right now. Right as we’re about to walk into the academy.”
She squinted at him in annoyance, trying to find a good analogy that would best explain her thought process. “Haven’t you ever heard of people freezing up when they’re about to jump out of a plane? Baylor Academy is that plane right now.”
“Right,” Link said, stepping behind her and grabbing her shoulders. “And when someone freezes up sometimes all they need is a little push.” He shoved her forwards, but she dug both her heels into the ground.
“No, don’t!” Alex pleaded. “We can’t do this.”
“Yes, we ca-an,” he sang annoyingly.
“No, we can’t! We’re not Taytora and Deonis.”
Link stopped pushing and sighed in defeat. “Really? You’re still having doubts about your abilities? Look what we’ve accomplished so far, Alex. We’ve unlocked our Gates, even taught ourselves to use elemental magic. All in a month. All without any training. Imagine what we could be capable of when we’re actually taught by Baylor’s seasoned mages.”
“OK, let’s just say by some miracle we do survive our training here,” Alex said. “We make the cut into the Golden Gauntlet; both enter to final and get selected into the squadron as our characters did . . . . Who’s to say we can actually defeat Kilaydis?”
“You’re looking too deeply into this,” he said, clamping his jaw.
“No, I’m just being realistic and looking at the big picture,” she retorted.
Link combed his fringe back over his head with his fingers. “Well, we have no other choice. It’s the only way to get you out of your—” He paused for a moment, as if the word was a bitter taste in his mouth. “Trance.”
Alex chewed the bottom of her lip. “Maybe I’ll just be trapped in here for eternity then.”
Without warning, Link groaned and then kicked up a pile of dirt in anger. With his back to her, he looked out upon the city they had spent all day traveling through, hands on his hips.
Did I say something wrong? Alex worried.
After a few minutes, Link’s anger seemed to have subsided. When he spoke, his voice had a quiver in it.
“Every day I see you in that hospital room, a part of me dies, Alex. Wasting away little by little, so disconnected from the world around you. And knowing I’m responsible for it all . . . .” Link held a hand to his face, massaging his eyelids. He took a composing breath and then turned to face her. “If killing Kilaydis is the only chance I have of saving you, even if that chance is one in a million, I’m going to take it. Can you understand that?” Link pursed his lips, his golden eyes wet with tears that hadn’t fallen. “I’d give anything to see my bubbly little sister bouncing around in the real world again.” He paused awkwardly and then cleared his throat. “So, are you coming or am I going to have to carry you over my shoulder?”
Alex offered him a gloved hand, a big smile spreading across her face. “No need. We’ll jump out of this plane together.”