Band Practice

Thanks to my lack of armour, it was now possible for me to run significantly faster and, therefore, farther without breaking. That was how I ended up on the other side of the main campus, at the edge of one of the five schools of education, specifically, the School of Luminant Dichotomy.

Only once I was sure I had made it far enough away did I stop to take a breath and look back to see if I had been followed. After a few moments, I was able to determine that the coast was clear. And, other than a pair of animated magical robes that seemed to be getting into a fight with a tree branch, I was alone.

That was when the sound of music caught my ears from a nearby side street. It was an interesting collaboration of instruments that slowly shifted from a well-composed symphony into a discordant wail. Screams erupted moments later, and I watched as several First Years ran away with cries for help.

“Well,” I sighed before revealing a smug smile as I gripped my staff. “If I’m not hitting the gym, then I guess it’s time to be a big hero.”

Unfortunately, I wouldn’t make it thirty feet before all hell broke loose.

A nearby tent ripped open with a start, and a clockwork creature the size of a child came barrelling towards me.

Shocked, I stepped back with a shout as the little mechanical beast raised its sharpened cymbal and chopped at the trunk of my body. With a sickening squelch, the instrument sliced into my stomach before a second, blunted mallet struck my chest.

The blow took my breath away as I fell to my knees and watched the automaton lift its musical weapons for a second round of strikes at my head. My very short life in this world flashed before my eyes, quickly returning to reality as an arrow pinged harmlessly off the machine’s head.

“Crap!” A soft, unsure voice called out. “Hey, don’t die, kid.”

“Really?” I yelled out to the distant figure who stood in the middle of the road with their long bow notched. “Why don’t you worry about hitting—”

My world went dark with a clang.

ooo

I was standing in front of a window. The reflection of my eyes revealed joy as I stared at the drum set before me.

All my friends were learning to play instruments, and I had wanted to join them. We had talked about starting a band together, and if I could be the drummer, I would be able to participate.

“Come on, Tahvin,” Mom said from several feet ahead of me. “Keep up.”

“Mom, can I have a drum set?”

“A what?” She walked back, looking at the window and the instrument beyond. “You want that?”

I had gotten top marks in my class for the third year in a row, and my parents were planning on rewarding me. Hopeful, I brought this up and pointed to the instrument with a smile.

“And then, Kris, Phil, Car—”

“No.” She hissed, taking my hand as she pulled me away. “No son of mine is going to be a penniless artist relying on someone else. We’ll buy you a new set of golf clubs so you can begin weekend practices. When you’re rich, you’ll thank us—”

“But mom!”

“No arguing!” She ripped me towards the sporting store.

“Gyah!” I awoke with a start.

Musical trauma. Yeah, yeah—sure, I get it, dreams! Fug off!

I was gasping for breath as I grabbed at the throbbing wound that was my dented skull. Glancing up, I stared at a limp leather helmet that barely covered a chestnut-toned androgynous face and pointed, elven ears. Big green eyes looked down at me, and I felt my heart begin to race in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump!

This wasn’t fear or panic. It was—

“Hey, you okay, kid?” The elf asked as they focused their attention on me.

“Is the battle over?” I mumbled, the world still spinning as I began to push myself up.

“No, we’re still in the—” The elf fell quiet as their body collapsed limply onto me, pushing me back to the ground.

“Ouf—crap!” I exhaled as the pressure of two bodies weighed me down.

With a ruckus of whirring cogs and a hiss of steam, I watched as a small automaton musician climbed into view on the elf’s back.

“Crap, crap, crap!” I cried out as it raised its cymbal to bring down on my head.

Wincing for a blow that never came, I peeked a single eye open to see an arrow cut through the machine's knee. Losing its ability to stand, it toppled to the side and clattered noisily to the ground. I followed the arrow's path, seeing a second, much smaller figure, emerging from behind a stack of boxes.

“Aesandoral!” The short being called out from the shadows, revealing themself moments before another automaton jumped into view, clobbering them.

“Fuggin’—doesn’t anyone—grr! Fine! I’ll do it myself!” I grumbled as I pushed the body of the elf, Aesandoral, off me.

It appeared the little bit of weightlifting had indeed paid off. Though even with armour, the person couldn’t have been much more than a hundred pounds and change.

Quickly withdrawing a potion from my bag, I popped the cork and poured it into the elf’s mouth. After draining the elixir, I plucked my staff from the ground and slammed it down into the barely functioning watchwork creature at our feet.

The elf coughed as they came to and released a deep sigh of relief.

“I hate this role—” Aesandoral whined pathetically, pushing themself up. “The archer shouldn’t be the meat shield.”

“Hey, are you okay?” I quickly asked, watching as the remaining automaton struck my second saviour once more.

The small, distant figure was dealt two more hard hits in the time it took the elf to look up at me.

“You healed me?” They asked, reaching for their bow.

“Y—yeah?!” I was so confused. How could this elf be so nonchalant while we were still in battle?

“Could you shoot that guy, please?” I growled.

Pointing out, I felt energy pooling in my chest. It raced down my arm to the tips of my fingers as I fired a radiant beam of energy forth. The liquid light splashed against the watchwork monster standing over the dangerously battered second saviour.

The body of cogs and mechanisms hobbled momentarily after being struck before toppling to the ground, lifeless.

“Oh,” I muttered, looking at my hand. “Never mind. I guess I’m getting better at incantationless casting.”

“Thank you.” The weakened second figure said as their short form charged up to us.

Pulling back the hood, a delicate, alabaster face with raven black hair looked at me through focused, silvery, diamond-clear eyes. Again, my heart began to race—

Thuh-thump! Thuh-thump!

I watched as she approached and punched Aesandoral’s hip.

“This should have been a Formation Three.”

“Well, I didn’t know if you were with me, so I improvised, Sharzin.” Aesandoral huffed, slipping the bow onto their back.

I watched for a moment as the two began to bicker.

Attempting to calm my racing heart, I examined them closely. There was a moment as I watched the two talk when I realized that touching on every character in my story would have been impossible. But these two were wholly unfamiliar to me, like not even as side-side characters. Examining their faces and bodies briefly, a groundling and an elf pair wasn’t immediately activating any of my lore engrams.

So, while chatting with them wouldn’t jeopardize the story in any way, there was also no reason to stand around and wait to talk.

“Excuse me.” I finally said, giving them a kind nod. “I’m off now. Great fight, keep up your—umm—training.”

Turning to leave, I took the chance to mutter under my breath. “You’ll need it.”

“Oh, okay.” Aesandoral stammered, surprised that I had spoken. “Bye, kid.”

I rushed off, away from the pair, delving deeper into the Luminant Dichotomy Campus. Gleaming buildings arose, and lush gardens expanded around every corner I moved past. And then my stomach began to growl.