|Hi! This is Angus Drake, author of the Malistaire Chronicles. I'm so happy that you posted my first story! Hopefully you'll post the sequel too. Here we go!|
Hello again, sniveling wizard. It is I, the great and powerful Malistaire Drake. I have come to continue the tale I began to tell you on a previous eve. I believe we left off with my apprentice, Dagny, falling to the ground after being hit by a lightning bolt sent after him by a young female storm wizard being taught by Merle Ambrose, who was the storm professor back then. Is that correct? Good. Now, we shall continue!
I rushed to Dworgyn's side and checked his pulse. In the two minutes we had spent together I had actually become attached to the awkward little fellow. Merle and the girl cascaded across the cobblestone path and Merle, playing hero once again, scooped him into his arms. "Well, Sylvia, I guess storm just isn't the school for you. What school would you like to try next?" he asked the girl.
"What are you talking about?" I inquired. "She doesn't have a school?"
"Unfortunately not. At birth her school was undetermined, therefore we're testing her to see which school she'll be best at," he answered.
"I don't really know which school I should try next. I'm already at the death school, I might as well try here next," the girl, named Sylvia, replied. Merle took out his wand made from a branch of Terrence, the storm tree, and simply flicked it in Sylvia's direction. Her robes glowed for a moment, and as she stared down at her clothing in awe, it changed from purple and yellow to black and silver. I hate to admit it, but Merle is the only person I know, besides me, of course, that is advanced enough to do that kind of spell.
"Now that that's settled, what are we going to do about Dworgyn?" I beseeched frantically.
"Not to worry. We'll simply bathe him in the scrying pool of life," Merle said confidently.
"I thought that scrying pools were for receiving messages," I answered truthfully, not knowing the obvious.
"They are, but each scrying pool also has a special power that will be inflicted upon you should you bathe in it. The storm pool will cause you to feel the pain of a lightning bolt, it hurts very much, don't ever try it. The ice pool will freeze you under a layer of frost for an amazing amount of time. The only man that has ever gone swimming in that pool 100 years ago is still frozen today, and is currently on display in the Marleybone Museum. The fire pool will cause you to burst into flames, however it will not kill you, it will only leave you with unbearably painful scorch marks. The death pool will, as it says in the name, kill you upon touching even the tip of one measly hair on your scalp. The myth pool is a very strange one. If you are to plunge yourself into that pool, you will be transformed into the mythical being that is most like you. Finally we come to the life pool, which can heal most diseases or wounds, however some cannot be stopped, and after prolonged use, you may turn into a flower. Yes, well, those are the effects of the scrying pools, and why you should never go in them unless necessary," Merle explained, and he carried Dworgyn off to the life school.
"Well, I guess that we're going to be classmates for a while, so we might as well introduce ourselves. My name is Sylvia Dawnfeather, daughter of Selena Dawnfeather, member of a school yet to be determined. What is your name, your father's name, and your school?" she questioned innocently. I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her enchanting blue eyes.
"You already know what my school is! My name is Malistaire Drake, and my dad's name is Casper Drake," I answered.
"Nice to meet you, Malistaire. I look forward to having a magical journey into death with you," she stated truthfully, and we entered the death school.
"Attention students! My name is Wilma Darkfire, the instructor of death," said a tall, delicate woman with pitch black hair flowing behind her and robed in a long gown fashioned out of Krokotopian spiderwebs from the Krokosphinx. "To start our lessons, we will be talking about the history of death, and our more advanced students who have started their studies prior to these classes will begin by plunging right into the actual magic. In order to look up our history and our spells, simply read through your textbook. Begin!" she yelled, and we got to work. Before long, I had developed an attraction to Sylvia, as had every other boy in our class, she was just so charming, even if she had hit Dworgyn in the cranium with a lightning bolt. At last, Wilma said that the students who were not as advanced were to start practicing their magic. Before long, I had come up with a clever way to study.
"Excuse me, Ms. Darkfire," I said politely,"I believe I have come up with a fun and interesting way to practice magic. I know for a fact that everybody in this class loves a good competition, and I think that they might like practicing magic more if we had organized duels here at school, and at the end of the school year one of us will be crowned champion and we will be given an award."
"I suppose that might be fun, but some people could get hurt! There are some very powerful spells out there, after all," she responded, weighing the pros and cons of my fantastic idea with her mind.
"I have already thought of that. I learned earlier today that scrying pools have special powers, and I figured that if everybody took a drink from the life pool right before they dueled, their health would still drop, but they would not actually get hurt!" I suggested, and her face lit up.
"Why, that's an excellent idea! I might actually submit it to Headmaster Swillen! Just imagine it, The Ravenwood Tournament! Students from all of the different schools battling it out for victory and honor!" she exclaimed.
Just like that, Round 1 of the tournament was just around the corner. It was decided that students would battle on a giant arena, with seven sides where all of the different schools had their own place to attack the other schools. At the end, whichever school did the worst would lose one member of the team based on what that person's classmates thought.
With Dworgyn by my side, fully recovered, and Sylvia on the other, I marched forward into battle. Headmaster Swillen, a very old and frail man, stood in the center of the arena. He held up a flag, and then he weakly brought the flag to the ground, and he bellowed one powerful word: "GO!"
I can barely remember what happened after that. I remember a whirlwind of traps, shields, charms, spells, and any other form of magic there is. I remember a cyclops attacking Dworgyn, a centaur attacking me, an imp attacking Sylvia, and a plethora of bloodbats overtaking the rest of my classmates. Nothing very important in the tournament happened that day, but something very important to this story did occur: Sylvia started casting spells from the school of life.
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