2025-04-30 21:05:42“Look out below!” came a cruel voice from above.
George looked up just in time to see a globe of liquid water, the size of a ripe melon, fall from the sky and strike the boy walking in front of him. Upon striking its target, the watery missile burst, drenching the boy. Chortles and guffaws came from above.
George glared at the aerial tormentors who had cast the spell that had created and launched the watery attack. Two older students from the Magic College of Praxis stood on a flying carpet some fifty feet above the line of Hopeful Candidates walking the road uphill to the magnificent Praxis Campus. The buildings of the campus, many of them made, either wholly or partially, of a magically grown crystal, glittered like diamonds in the distance.
What George and the other Hopeful Candidates were doing that morning was an annual ceremonial humiliation. Each year, on Entrance Exam Day, a procession of Hopeful Candidates would walk to school, only to be harassed by the upperclassmen. Striking back was forbidden by the victims. They were required to endure this indignity as a sign of their toughness.
Of course, officially, according to the College, the harassment was not to rise above the level of light pranking. Upperclassmen who went too far in their pranks could face censure, suspension, or even, theoretically, expulsion if a Hopeful Candidate were, in any way, permanently injured during their walk to campus on the morning of Entrance Exam Day. Another motivation for the pranksters to not go too far in their hazing was that, in order to attend the College of Praxis, all Hopeful Candidates had to come from, or be sponsored by, powerful noble families. Any upperclassmen who strayed too far from what was culturally considered normal pranking could be subject to retribution from vengeful relatives or allies of their target.
Nevertheless, whether the upperclassmen practiced restraint or recognized any kind of limits on their behavior or not, George found the whole ritual repugnant. The Society of Sorcerers Born ruled over lands steeped in honored and honorable tradition. Be that as it may, George didn’t think this annual ritual humiliation represented anything honorable.
After Hopeful Candidates were accepted into the school, they were no longer required to walk there. Starting the day after a student passed the Entrance Exam and wasn’t a Hopeful Candidate anymore, every student who possibly could, unless they woke up already there each day because they lived in campus housing, found a way to transport themselves to school without walking. Some rode flying carpets like the one floating over the line of Hopeful Candidates tossing water globes that morning. Some rode flying brooms. Some wore rings of flying. Some used one-shot, short term flying spells that would last just long enough to get them to school. Looking up and scanning the air above him, George could see a couple of students with a family resemblance that made them look like brother and sister riding a pegasus that was adorned at the base of its neck with the crest emblem of a powerful noble family.
The only form of transportation that wasn’t allowed for getting oneself to school was teleporting or plane shifting, as the school was well-warded against such intrusions for security reasons.
“What are you looking at?”
George had made the mistake of looking at the two water-tossing bullies riding the flying carpet a bit too long, and had probably allowed his disgust at the whole hazing ritual to show on his face. Now, he would be the next target. George lowered his head, bracing himself. He resolved to take what was going to come without making it any worse, though what he heard coming from above didn’t sound good.
“No, man! Don’t do that! It’s not worth it! You’ll get us both in trouble! He’s probably the kid of someone important.” Apparently, one of the two bullies wasn’t necessarily nicer than the other, but was more conservative and less hot-headed than his companion.
The more reckless of the youths wasn’t going to listen to any advice about restraint, however. “Did you see the way that little prick looked at us? Who does he think he is? Someone needs to show him his proper place.”
The globe of liquid that splashed itself on George wasn’t a globe of water. It was a globe of urine. The stench overwhelmed George. When he thought it was safe to open his eyes without getting urine in them, he saw the flying carpet flying on ahead so its occupants could bother other Hopeful Candidates. Then, George’s heart swelled with gratitude for his parents’ gift to him, for it had not been cheap, though his mother had enchanted it herself in her workshop. George’s outfit made a fluttering sound as it rustled of its own accord. Every drop and spot of filth on it flew off as the fabric magically restored itself to its pristine condition.
“Hey!” a student walking next to him exclaimed as some of the nasty substance flung from Geroge’s attire splattered on him. “Oh, great! This one’s got self-cleaning clothes. Must be nice!”
Once on campus, George could take care of his face and hair in a washroom. Then, he’d be good as new. In the meantime, he plodded on, wondering what else this day had in store for him. The hazing ritual was over, once and for all. It only happened once in a student’s life and everyone went through it. It was behind him now. If that was the worst thing that happened to him all day, he thought it would be a pretty good day. After all, his new life was just beginning. HIs attitude was optimistic. George felt that he stood at the threshold of a thousand possibilities, and all of them good.
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Ch. 75 Where the Sea Sings to the Fire
The morning of George’s sixteenth birthday arrived. He was bathing in a pool soon after sunrise when a familiar voice called to him from the bushes on shore. “Hey, kid!” “Yörg!” The Staff of Xee carefully looked around, right and left, before levitating itself, slowly drifting out of the concealing jungle undergrowth and hovering over the water near George. Suddenly, the staff disappeared. “Yörg! You just got here! What’s the deal?” “I’d tell ya to keep your britches on, but you’re not wearing any.” Yörg’s voice came from the same space he’d disappeared from. “I turned invisible because you don’t need to be seen with me. In case you hadn’t figured it out, this place is hostile to magic-users.” “Yeah. It kind of is. A lot of bitterness toward the Society here.” “Well with me being invisible, if you keep your voice down, it’ll just seem like you talk to yourself when you bathe. A lot of folks do that. You’re going to stay around here awhile, aren’t ya? These folks are your peopl
Ch. 74 Lunch with Cynthia
Maverick did indeed have the power left to make it to Beacon City, just barely. The scientist technicians there were able to improvise something that would act as an adapter between their power systems and Maverick’s, so that he could begin to charge up again. Charging all the way up from zero percent would take about eight hours, giving George just that long to figure out how he and Stingray were going to function on Science Island while maintaining the cover stories they’d concocted for themselves. If they wanted to leave, George could probably call Yörg who would brag about being able to take them ‘anywhere in the multiverse’. But George didn’t want that to be necessary. Nereia had had the AI sub bring them here for a reason. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this was an anti-Society science colony. He remembered what the Oracle had said in her farewell letter about “finding a family”. Were these people that family? “They will not look like a family. They will not sound like on
Ch. 73 What Do You Do With a Powered-Down Warbot Early in the Morning?
Milton stepped forward. “I’m very sorry to interrupt, Chemistry Chair, but there is a warbot on Shark Man Beach in what appears to be a powered down state. I have two men guarding it and I have just confirmed with them over comlink that it has not reactivated or moved.” George realized he would have to learn the origins of the science colonists’ animosity for elves some other time. Maverick would be a momentous topic. “A warbot!” The Biology Chair exclaimed. “Are you mad? You have us here fraternizing with elves and elf-lovers while a warbot occupies our shores?” George decided to step in again to exert some influence on the direction things were going. He didn’t like the way the Biology Chair saw things. It reminded George too much of the pomposity of many of the mages in the Society. “The golem that this man Milton refers to as a robot, was cargo aboard my ship before it went down. Our captain wanted to take it to Siren Island, believing it would be immune to siren charms.” Geo
Ch. 72 Beacon City
Even though the Sun was rising, clearly not everyone in Beacon City on Science Island was used to getting up with it. George and Stingray were forced to wait while some of the Science Committee were summoned, and, when the members that took the longest arrived, they looked sleepy.As far as looks went, however, the most unpleasant ones were reserved for Stingray. George thought the humans here on Science Island were looking at his orca calling friend far worse than he and his friends had looked at him when he’d been rescued from a kraken in the ocean. That day, the sea elves had looked at George with a passive contempt for terakva and ambergris. The Science Islanders weren’t looking at Stingray with passive contempt, however. Their looks at him were easily described as active hatred, as if Stingray himself had done something to each of them personally.The assembled humans of Science Island looked like their lands of origin were diverse and widespread. This made sense, since they had
Ch. 71 Science Island
Though it was dark, the islanders had plenty of torches and there was a well-established path through the trees. Two men had come up to Stingray with rope, as if to tie him up. The man who’d already questioned them, shook his head and waved them away. “Are you kidding?” One of them asked. “He apparently saved the human from drowning. Let’s not take him prisoner…yet.” Both of the men with rope looked at their superior as if he was crazy, but they left Stingray alone, if begrudgingly. As they walked, George noticed that at any given time, at least two guns were pointed at Stingray, but no one was covering George anymore. The man who was apparently their liaison strode next to George. He introduced himself as Milton. He didn’t clarify whether Milton was a first name or a surname. “Do you know where your ship acquired that golem cargo or where they were delivering it to?” George spun as much truth as possible into his story, to make it all the more believable and have the least num
Ch. 70 Guns and Shark People
Once again, George thought of calling Yörg, but he still waited, thinking the irrepressible staff might draw fire at them, either intentionally or unintentionally. Of the four of them that were there without Yörg, George and Stingray were prone and not the targets of bullets that were flying well above them. Starstorm had opted to sleep in his pocket dimension, saying something about air conditioning on humid nights. Maverick, however, when he had powered down, had been sitting. In the dark, in the moonlight, his hulking form looked like a statue of some kind. It drew some fire. George could see sparks on Maverick’s exterior when bullets struck him. He didn’t think those rounds had any penetrative power against Mav’s armoring, but he’d want to do a visual inspection with adequate light to be sure. He was glad that Maverick’s powered down rest hadn’t included a pre-set condition upon which to auto-wake, such as being attacked. Maverick would need to be manually reactivated. Even if h
Ch. 69 A Night on the Beach
With Maverick and Stingray in the water, and George and Starstorm in an orange rubber life raft (a color that Starstorm felt compelled to voice as far less pretty and appealing than his own bright yellow life raft), they got themselves to the beach as quickly as possible. The Untamed Seas were in the tropics, so the night was warm. They didn’t think they’d need a fire for warmth. They had taken the liberty of assuming that it was ok to “borrow” some of the sub’s dried military rations as “complimentary”.(“After all, how’s it gonna stop us?” Starstorm had asked. George had replied, “Just hurry up. Let’s not find out.”)The beach extended about one hundred fifty yards inland. Beyond that was a treeline that would be better explored in daylight. George thought, too late, of course, that he should have thought to ask the sub’s AI how many hours it would be until daylight.Maverick powered down to conserve what little energy he had left. He had not recharged since before his scheduled fig
Ch. 68 Nereia's Letter
“Where are we going, Pilot?” George asked the AI. It was morning, an honest-to-goodness morning. The sub was cruising at a shallow depth that was sunlit. For George to wake up from a long sleep and see sunlight through the sub’s front viewport was a subtle, yet powerful reminder for George that Wonderdome was gone. Wonderdome had had the Three Periods: Work, Family, and Sleep. The surface world had day and night. “We are headed to an island in what surface world maps refer to as the Untamed Seas.” “Why? What’s there?” “My files do not contain that information. I apologize for any inconvenience that may cause.” Well, that’s a dead end, George thought. “Maybe this will help,” said Stingray as he rose from his own bunk area and stepped over to the front viewport with George. He brought with him a scroll made from Wonderdomian sea grass paper. “Nereia made me promise to give it to you. She had already written it out before I arrived. She called me to her deathbed.” “Deathbed?” “W
Ch. 67 Beyond Wonderdome
George had always known the dome was not glass. It was a magical see-through metal. So, when a piece of it broke off the main body of the dome, it did so with a metallic groan, as metal bending and snapping rather than glass shattering and breaking. The piece that broke off and fell first was the size of several city blocks combined. It fell with enough force to crush buildings beneath it and to vibrate the very earth under the city. Screams filled the air as the ocean, held back for so long, sought to reclaim the volume of the dome. At first, water rushed in through the original hole opened by the twin krakens’ relentless battering for several long moments, but then, with its original structural strength so greatly compromised, the edges of the hole started to bend inward under the unimaginable pressure. As the edges of the hole lost their resilience against the impossible pressure, the hole widened, letting in even more water, accelerating the dome’s impending, eventual total colla
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