Adventures in Friendship and Lightning, Part 3

Raemillin considered them all in turn. He scoffed, and turned away.

“Bellami,” He said. “Apologize to the young half-ogre.”

An elf appeared, and bowed to Bin. “My apologies. I didn’t look where I was going.”

Bin stuck his tongue out at Bellami.

“How quaint.” She said, before walking away.

“There’s been an apology. I hope you forgive her rudeness,” Raemillin said, though his head was directed to Nutrose rather than Bin.

The elf moved closer, and nodded to the fairy. “And I hope you and yours remember this day well.”

“Always, dear Raem.” Nutrose said. “Hope you enjoy the book.”

The elf stalked off, his fun ruined. Bin looked at him walk away. Maybe he shouldn’t let this go. Raemillin needed a good smack upside the head. Maybe twelve.

“Come on, Bin.” Nutrose patted him on the back. “Meet the gang.”

“You’ve probably seen each of us around the Circle, but we’ve never had a chance to introduce ourselves.” Nutrose nodded to each of them in turn. “The gnome sisters Pidella and Pidelle are usually in the Archives…in fact, this is one of the few times they’re not.”

“I’m Pidelle,” The first one said. she tossed her blue pigtails away. “That’s Pidella with the green ponytail.”

“It’s how people tell us apart.” Pidella said. “If we didn’t change up hair, we’d both end up searching for the same book for Mister Book or one of the other Masters.”

“And you both like the color.” The dwarf had a mohawk. So gray it almost seemed to shine, it hung on one side of his face, showing off the tattoos that danced around his scalp. They looked like bolts of lightning, colored blue and gold against the gray hair.

He wore a cuirass underneath a leather coat, sleeves ripped off to show the remaining tattoos. He extended a hand. “Call me Ona.”

Bin took the offered hand, and tried not to stare at the grip.

“The troll is…how did you describe it, Kleb?” Nutrose frowned. “On a blood oath?”

“A blood pact,” Kleb towered well over everyone else, well over six feet tall. He wore a cream suit that accentuated his purple hide and red eyes. His hair was black, and well-groomed. Kleb looked like he was about to run off to a meeting.

Kleb tugged at his neck, and pulled out a necklace. The silver chain that hung from his neck was decorated with rubies, dark as blood. “The ancestors needed another mage. I was chosen, and now I study.”

“Which makes you sound like another perfect student,” The last of the group, another fairy, said. He stared at Bin, and smiled, warm and loud. His golden skin, white clothes and shining wings almost blinded the ogre.

He bowed low. “My name is Goldmight, young Bin. Leader of this little group known as the Season Leaves. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Um, likewise.” Bin frowned. “I’m sorry…this will sound weird. But why are you talking to me?”

Goldmight and Nutrose smiled. The golden fairy sat down, and nodded to the Hoppi.

“Well, Ruby Lawks here said that you were not exactly getting along with Raemillin.  Something that was obvious when Bellami made the move for her master. Nutrose had to step in when they were being just horrendous to you. But that’s not the whole truth.

“We kind of need your help in an adventure.”

copyright 2018 Jack Holder

Adventures in Friendship and Lightning, Part 2

Bin had heard of the dreaded time of adolescence. When young mages of all races established their hierarchy. They made deals, clung to those with power, and dominated anyone who seemed even the slightest bit subservient. All in the name of social progress.

But the Circle of Bel Haven was not like that, supposedly. Beyond Bin, all of the apprentices were supposed to be mature students of the art of magic. Each individual was hand-picked and groomed for the honor of being at the Circle. They were above petty squabbles, and had long left childhood whimsical feuds behind.

So, when the elf slammed into Bin and sent him tumbling into a hedge, this was a calculated measure in a long war.

Bin bit back a cry. The branches tore at his golden skin, ripping tufts of his hair and poking holes into his clothes. He knew it had to be an elf. No one else in the building was brazen enough to hit him. And not just any elf.

The boy pulled himself out of the hedge, and looked around. Whoever had pushed him had disappeared, run off. One of a dozen faces that stared at the young ogre in confusion. Not the real perpetrator.

Bin’s eyes narrowed, and found Raemillin. The elf mage lounged from the edge of a window, the very picture of a student. Quill in hand, his eyes scanning through a spellbook for a difficult incantation. He mouthed the words, careful not to intone them lest the spell come out. It looked to the world like he was lost in the book.

Bin looked closer, focusing on the lips. Sure enough, even as he spoke, Raemillin smirked, letting Bin know he was behind it all.

That was enough. Bin ran up to Raemillin, and stopped right in front of the elf. “Well? You got something to say for yourself?”

Raemillin marked his place in the book, set both book and quill down, and straightened to fully regard the ogre. He smiled with a slow warmth that seemed more filled with poison than comfort.

“Why, Bin. What happened to you?”

Bin glowered. The last time he and Raemillin had tangled, he had waited until dark to pay the elf back. He had also made a promise.

“You want to do this now?”

The area was not empty. A fact that Bin was well aware of, since no one had said anything to help him. If he was going to get any respect, if anyone was going to leave him alone, he was going to have to make it happen himself.


Ogre and elf turned. A fairy waved his hand, and lighted next to Bin. Dressed in bright purple clothes, his teal skin and bright golden wings sparkled behind his four foot frame.

“Don’t tell me you two are at it again! What, has it been a week already?”

Raemillin darkened. “Nutrose. Where’s your little flock?”

Nutrose smiled, and pointed behind him. “Over there.”

Bin turned around. Five people looked back at them. A dwarf, another fairy, a troll, and two gnomes.

“And we saw everything.” Nutrose said.

copyright 2018 Jack Holder