The Elder Wyrm by K.R. VanderBrooke

Author:K.R. VanderBrooke [VanderBrooke, K.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-02T23:00:00+00:00

11.

Jorn and Harald hatched their plan in secret. They agreed that Harald would use his farsight talents to act as a lookout. Jorn would fly to the tower and use rudimentary magical skills to amend the class registration, which he understood would allow them both entry into the Theory of the Mind class.

When they were both free, they snuck into the green. It was late at night, and Harald was carrying a sack of books, despite knowing most of them by heart. He sat down and marked a circle on the earth. He spoke a well-rehearsed script, and the circle began emanating a purplish light. Jorn realized only now that it was fortunate he had chosen a patch of bushes as Harald’s place from which to implement the plan.

Harald pressed his hands to his temples and looked down at the earth, muttering diligently. “There’s someone there,” he said. “An official. You’ll have to befuddle him.”

“Well,” said Jorn, gathering his books, “better than two officials, I reckon.”

He took the orb from his pocket, gazed into it, and commanded Nordan, of all wyrms, to come forth. In under a minute, the wyrm had descended through the inky night to gather him. He leapt atop and soared to the college tower’s pinnacle, where he slid from the beast.

There was a hatch leading to a lower level. Carefully, he opened it and snuck inside. He slipped into a large room shelved with many stacks of documents. A table covered with disorganized notebooks sat at the center. An elderly man with white hair was sprawled across it, snoring softly.

Jorn crept down the steps. Several creaked as he set his weight down. At each creak, he halted, then descended further when the man made no movement. He sneaked behind the man and set down a small book entitled Befuddlement: An Ethical Manual. He sifted through the pages and found the one that explained how one shouldn’t try to befuddle a resting person, and how it would be wrong to do so.

“Never use the primary befuddlement spell,” it said, “while placing your hand at the small of your opponent’s back and reciting the lines, Krīti neizpratnē, muļķīgais ienaidnieks, jo man ir iemesls tevi sodīt par taviem grēkiem.”

Jorn did exactly as the book bade him not to, placing his hand carefully on the man’s back. The man groaned and began to stir. Jorn remained as still as he could, though his breath quickened. He read on. “Of course, this incantation only works when you empty yourself of thoughts and fears, so many thieves and bandits, thankfully, struggle to perform it.”

After a moment, the man stopped moving. Jorn tried his best to settle his mind, then repeated his incantation. Still, nothing happened—no strange light or feeling that he had taxed his mind in the least.

He shrugged and started rifling through the papers in the room. Most were useless accounting records or lists of students who had attended the college years ago.

The newest documents, as shown by their dates, lay on the desk with the sleeping man.

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