“Maybe… we shouldn’t let him go.” Zed’s mother said, bending to give her husband a log for the fire. The tall man turned to smile lovingly up at her, taking the log and shifting it to the other hand.
“Why would you say that?” Zed’s stepfather asked, running a thumb over her outstretched palm.
“You know why. Because… Rick…”
“Fredrick was a deserter and was punished for it. Besides his weak bloodline, he was a coward. Zedidiah deserves a chance.”
“The mages won’t. Maybe if Rick had had a stronger familiar… he – he.”
“Do not find excuses for the man. Choices help make destinies – not piled excuses. Besides,” He stood and dusted his pants, pulling Layla into his chest. “I have raised Zed since he was small – my son will prove character and determination beats blood. Intelligence will beat talent. Zedidiah’s power outstrips incantations and ward circles.”
Lyla sighed in his arms, nodding her head against his chest, “he’s our son. Perhaps the skills Rick used could be used for good – if he ever bothered to consider someone else.” Together they turned to stare at the fire, one being against the cold.
Zed stepped back from the crack he was watching his parents through. His birth father, Fredrick Grimer, had been a spirit mage, a weak one who knew only dirty tricks and wicked deals. He had tricked Zed’s mother, had married her on a money dare. And left them. But Zedidiah knew he was the joy of his mother and the love of Benjah, the Viridian sweetheart who loved his mother since childhood. Not a drop of magic lay in Benjah’s bloodline, and yet he was the strongest, truest man Zedidiah knew. But even a drop of his father's magic blood would let Zed enter the familiar circles and summon a channel creature.
And he would. He would prove Benjah’s words true. Magic does not make a man. Actions based on true thought and intention do. He crept back to his bed, pulling his sleeping baby sister closer to him. Miah stretched in his arms, curling into him against the bitter cold.
Yes. He would prove magic does not make a person. But it would come certainly in handy.
-OoO-
“Zedidiah Grimer,” a tall mage called, looking through the crowd of young faces. The others had summoned their creatures, holding them to their chests, sitting them on shoulders or bending to lay a casual hand on a brightly shining back. The creatures varied, many resembling animals known to the people. For familiars took on the form, talent and understandings of their masters.
“Viridi.” Zed said, stepping forward, “my mother remarried – my name is Zedidiah Viridi.”
The mage curled a lip with distain, “you would rather go by the name of a Viridian? People of no magic, named after the green of the earth with no knowledge of magic?”
“Yes.”
“To think you have found a way to fall further then the Griseo peoples– quite an… accomplishment.”
“Thankyou sir.” Zed said, meeting the sarcasm with steadfast determination.
His mother and father watched from the non-magic stands, Benjah struggling to keep Miah still on his lap. They watched with the rest of the Viridian peoples; their simple clothes warm against the chill. Nothing metal gleamed around their throats, gutting knives and hammers thrust through notched belts. In contrast, the Magis, or precious stones peoples watched from floating carpets, sitting astride hovering beasts, or simply lounged on plump couches. They appeared like brightly coloured birds coming to see the proceedings. Zed was surrounded by other children reaching their 13 years, their own shimmering gowns and tunics fluttering in the breeze. He felt like a rowboat surrounded by sailing ships. A crow amongst peacocks.
He smiled to himself as the mage gestured to the waiting summoning circle. He knew crows to be one of the most intelligent beasts of his world. Better be a crow than a mindless pretty bird.
He walked up the steps and stood in the middle of the circle, taking the silver dagger carved with runes and strange symbols.
“I, Zedidiah Viridi, call upon the forces of mine people. Blood upon blood. Soul upon soul. Mind upon mind.” Then he slashed his arm and let the blood drip slowly upon the stone. As the blood dripped it sizzled, sinking into the scrubbed marble. Zed closed his eyes and held out his hands, dropping to his knees to press his hands into the stone. His finger’s twitched, and then his arms moved. His blood poured and he used it as ink, drawing an incantation he could see as though it was carved by his mind's eye.
Finished, he stood back and moved to step out of the circle. Only to find himself trapped inside. Green light shot up from the circle, brilliant emerald light.
He turned to see his parents standing from their seats, calling out to him in paniced voices. Though no sound reached his ears.
“Do not worry. We have been waiting for you.” A voice murmured, a loving, gentle, ageless voice. “Creature of earth and jewel. Reach out your hands.”
Slowly Zed did so, flexing out his fingers.
“Precious stones child are created by the earth. It is heated and changed. Earth is gold and gold is earth. You shall teach our children this. Viridi indeed.”
A flash of white light shut Zed's eyes. Something hot rested in his hands, heavy and solid. The voice rose from his mind to every ear within a 100mile radius, her, for she was undeniably female, echoed and spoke with raw power, “Character and determination beats blood. Intelligence will beat talent. Heart will conquer fear.”
“We stand with you.” The voice whispered to Zed, fading in his mind.
He opened his eyes as the circle at his feet died to a quiet ember. Those who were in the air were rubbing heads on the ground. The others watched with awe, many fallen to their knees. Zed's step-father met his eyes and nodded his pride.
And there, resting in Zed’s bloody fingers, was an emerald coloured egg. It shone from an inner light, large and impressive in his hands.
It cracked, the sound like lightning. The people watched, spellbound and impatient.
Zed breathed through his nose, watching with building excitement.
A dragon.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
