Fox, Satyr, Dragon Pt. 01

She held back the grunt that always tried to force itself through when the prosthetics ravaged her fein to drink her magical core. Wiping the sweat from her brow, Jack walked to the door while pretending to not feel the pins and needles in her legs. Before she unlocked it, Jack realized she was wearing a shirt under her heavy forge apron but nothing else. She quickly pulled on the shorts she had thrown onto a desk and opened the door.

"Hey, Jack." Seymour walked into the room, eyes falling on the sword still laying atop the lode anvil. He whistled. "Now that's a beauty. Gilroy will be pleased."

"Thanks, Coach." Jack's smile was wide and true. Seymour didn't give compliments easily.

Seymour leaned over the sword, taking care to not lean too close. "Your rune work is that of an expert calligrapher, Jack. Such clearly defined engravings. Like you wrote it with a pen."

"If only my actual handwriting was like that."

"Lucky for me the homework of yours I grade involves no writing." Seymour laughed. "Let's see... I'm seeing the anti-blunting, anti-corrosion, and anti-rust. All standard runes for a sword. What have you done to make this special?" Seymour wasn't asking for an answer, his eyes lighting upon a rune seldom used on a sword. "Barbs."

"Yes, sir."

"Your Artifact armor not enough for you?"

"I don't like armor, Coach." Jack said. "Gets in the way."

"Of dying." Seymour shook his head. The motion made him catch a rune at the base of the blade. He began laughing, a deep, throaty chuckle. "You truly are Declan's daughter, you mad genius. Does it actually work?"

"Yep."

"Activated by what? Touch of your fein?"

"Only my fein." Jack said. "If anyone else uses it, the rune won't activate."

"You won't be telling me how you did it, will you?"

"Nope."

Seymour sighed. "A commission then. I'll pay for the materials, your time, and your service. A sword like this would be an excellent part of my collection."

"If I make it in the Foxcastle Forge it is the school's property unless granted otherwise." Jack frowned. "Even that sword isn't mine. Yet."

"Gilroy and Neil will have to give it to you. The best part of the sword is worthless to the school..." Seymour caught her grin. "Which is another reason why you added it. Clever."

"Worst case I can just make another one in the Sarkan Forge."

"Because the blueprints are in your head and therefore can't be claimed as Foxcastle property."

"You know me well." Jack said. "Did you need something, Coach?"

"Should you use this sword in battle I suggest you use another weapon as well. Perhaps a dagger. To serve as a feint." Seymour stopped admiring the weapon. "And yes. Do you have time for a walk?"

"Good idea, Coach. I'll use a dagger." Jack took her apron off and tossed it onto its wall hook like it was a normal cloth apron. She also smiled to herself as Seymour still hadn't noticed the truly clever part of her sword. "Ready to go."

Jack locked the door to her personal forge with the key that hung around her neck. The canary in the room would notice her absence and activate the security spells. They would only deactivate if the canary's pair, the one on this side of the door, heard Jack's whistle. A bit excessive for a normal student's forge. On brand for Jack. The two walked through the Forge in silence. Jack didn't try to break it, understanding that Seymour was waiting for a more private setting. She waved and smiled at familiar faces until they left, noting that many of the students in the Forge were working last minute. The majority didn't have access to personal forges at home so they had to use public ones during summer vacation to work on their homework. Artificer Gilroy Flint had a heavy disdain for public forges and had granted a two week extension on the summer homework so students had access to a proper resource.

Seymour inhaled and exhaled deeply once they stepped outside, expelling the smell of brimstone and smoke that he felt was staining his lungs and nostrils. "Main reason I never wanted to pick up Artificery despite my love of weapons. I'll smell Hell when I get to it."

"I love it." Jack shrugged, putting her hands into the pockets of her shorts. The sun was on its descent but there was plenty of light left in the day.

"The smell of home."

"Not just home. Sarkans are made in forges." Jack smirked. An old joke referencing her family's long history of being Artificers. "No wombs for us. Just burning crucibles."

"Sarkan." Seymour whispered the name to himself - quiet enough that Jack wouldn't hear - while focusing his fein. The smell of brimstone and smoke filled him again, but in a spiritual sense. It was as though his soul had touched hellfire. No amount of deep breathing would cleanse it, only time. And while the name inflamed his soul, Seymour felt unbridled power. The likes of which could shape entire worlds with a casual hand gesture. Sarkan. Named after dragons, it was a family old enough for its name to acquire spell-like qualities. Two other families of equivalent power were at the school and now another had joined. A fourth to break the trinity. Fox, Blackvine, Sarkan....Stone.

"You alright, Coach?"

"A lot on my mind, Jack. A lot on my mind."

"You should visit Shanthi."

He chuckled. "You know about that?"

"Sasha mentioned the double date you and Bran went on with her and Nat." Jack said. "Said it was funny to see you speechless over Shanthi."

"Speechless?" Seymour raised an eyebrow. "An extra mile for Sasha then. See how she speaks then."

"I shouldn't have said anything." Jack didn't look the least bit sorry.

"Are you close to Sasha and Natalia?"

"We're friends."

"I think difficult times are coming, Jack. I suggest forming even closer bonds."

Jack looked up at Seymour. The man's jaw was set and he was staring dead ahead, but his gaze seemed sightless. While she saw Foxcastle's lush, green grass, Seymour saw something in his mindseye that blinded his vision. He didn't look scared. Just... Braced for impact. "You don't just mean eighth year being difficult, do you?"

"No, Jack. I do not."

"How do you know?"

"Call it an old warrior's instinct." Seymour said. He wanted to believe his gut was wrong and that everything would be fine but he was on unsure footing with that optimism.

At the mention of old, Jack remembered that Seymour was in his mid sixties. "You don't look old."

Seymour laughed a quick, harsh, bark of a laugh. He remembered when the world wasn't at peace. He remembered what he had done to earn the honorary title of Emperor's Blade when peace was finally achieved, shortly after his 30th birthday. An Emperor's Blade had never been so young, even during peacetime. He didn't look old. But he sure as hell felt it.

"You went easy on Branigan, didn't you?"

"What is your assessment?"

"I wasn't there." Jack said. "But if I had to guess... You did."

"And why is that?"

"You're both a match in power. Close enough at least for it to not matter." Jack said. "Experience comes in then."

"Correct."

"Which means you went easy on him." Jack said. "If it was life or death, you would've won."

"If I'm ever in a fight to the death with Bran, that is a tragedy I do not want to survive." Seymour said, shocking Jack with the grief on his face. As if it had already come to pass. After some silence, he continued. "Tell me, Jack. What do you think of him?"

"He's funny. Smart. Strong. Annoying but in a charming way." Jack said. Then, with a thoughtful pout, she added. "Cute."

"You judge his intelligence and strength by..."

"The fact that he's Foxcastle's new librarian."

"Astute." Seymour nodded. "He will have taken an interest in you after I sent you to fight him."

"Is that why you sent me? So he could be interested?"

"I sent you because you're my best and I wanted to welcome a friend." Seymour said, looking down at her. He was a teacher once again. "I wouldn't have if I had thought you would make the mistake of not checking for wards and lose within moments."

"Guess I'm not astute." Jack shrugged, though she burned on the inside. It had been a stupid mistake. Not a rookie mistake. A stupid one.

Seymour relaxed his stern expression knowing she regretted her mistake, despite her external nonchalance. "He is a good man. A quality he will repeatedly deny."

"He seems that way."

"Is that way." Seymour said. "He'd lay his life down for a stranger, Jack. Imagine what he would do for love."

Jack laughed nervously. "Why are you selling him to me?" J

"Make him your friend if you think you'll get along."

"Because of the difficult times that are coming."

"Mmm."

"For his sake or mine?"

"For both."

"Okay. I can do that." Jack said. It touched her that Seymour had sought her out like this to both warn her of the upcoming danger and to provide her a possible protection against it. "He has already offered to help me whenever I need it. For school stuff."

Of course you did, Bran. Seymour nodded. Then a sudden curiosity gripped him. He'd avoided it for years out of fear that he was right in his guess. He steeled himself for the worst, focused his fein, and murmured, "Stone."

His soul tasted hot blood, the iron making him gag, and he felt a tug on his heart like an anchor had been hung from it. Were he not a warrior he would have lost his balance from the tug alone, his magical core losing its stability from the wave upon wave of grief assaulting him. He shuddered. Six years ago, uttering the name Stone while focusing your fein would fill you with a solid peace. As though the weight of the world could fall upon your shoulders and you would remain standing. Like a benevolent bastion. Now though...How the name had fallen. How it had become the burden.

I am so sorry, Bran. Seymour mourned.

Jack had noticed the gag and subsequent shuddering. "Coach? You okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Jack. It's nothing." Seymour forced a convincing enough smile, then looked towards the school. Ah Branigan. As a teacher I can't be a matchmaker for you. But as a friend I can find you more friends. What you do with friends is... Well. I can feign ignorance for as long as the girls do not come to harm.

***

Branigan was swimming in the lake, on the shore-side of the boundary, when he saw a pair of thick, pale legs that smoothly curved up into a shapely waist. The girl was submerged to her neck, tempting Branigan into staying underwater until his lungs demanded oxygen. He went up, pushing his wet hair out of his face. "Hey, Jack."

"What gave me away?" Jack grinned. "My scar or my legs?"

"The scar." Branigan said. "Noticed your legs first though."

Jack swam closer now that she knew his wards wouldn't activate on her. "Did you like what you saw?"

"Wish I had gills."

"Ha!" Jack laughed, her bushy eyebrows and brown eyes expressing her amusement just as much as her mouth. "I knew you were checking me out when we met."

"Won't deny that."

"It's fine. I don't mind people looking." Jack said. "By the way. Coach Harmon was telling me about you."

I owe you a few daru shots at The Tigress, friend. Branigan thought. "Yeah? What'd he say?"

"He told me to be your friend." Jack said. "Because hard times are coming and you're someone I should want on my side when they do."

Ideally, Branigan being at Foxcastle and possibly finding romantic relationships would limit the hard times being nothing more than final exams. "I like how forward you are."

"If you found out later that I only wanted to be your friend because I could get something out of it, it'd hurt you." Jack said. "So I'm being clear now. I think you're interesting and was already thinking about trying to get to know you. Coach just gave me extra incentive."

"Nothing wrong with having selfish motives at times. Especially if you're being transparent." Branigan held his hand out. "Pleased to have met you, Jack Sarkan."

She shook his hand. "I never told you my last name."

"I had my suspicions. Asked around."

"Nosy."

"Well I'm being forward with you about it." Branigan said. "Honestly I should have recognized you immediately. You look just like your sister."

"Thank you!" Jack beamed. Branigan, without knowing, had given one of the best compliments he could give Jack. "Did you know her well?"

"Nope. I know you better than I know Quinn, though that's not saying much." Branigan said, heart flipping like someone who had just seen their first pair of boobs. Her smile was beautifully disarming. "She was an eighth year when I started at Foxcastle. Everyone loved her."

"Ahhh.... You were just horny." Jack smiled again. Her face, like Quinn's, was androgenous and the two sisters had somehow taken the best of both sides of the gender spectrum.

"Aren't we all?"

"Asexuals aren't."

"Horny for love."

"Aromantics."

"Horny for friendship. Or just normal horny."

"So everything is just a gradient of horniness for you." Jack splashed him. "Cool it, Stone."

Branigan laughed and took the splashing.

While he wiped his face so water wouldn't go into his eyes, Jack looked at his tattoo. Though it encompassed his entire torso and arms, they looked to be one chain wrapped around and not multiple. "How badly did it hurt to get your tattoo?"

"I passed out."

Her eyes widened. "Seriously?!"

"Yep. Was really bad." Branigan said. "I'd still do it again though." He raised his right arm out. Water streamed off and the chain-links writhed around. "Look at how cool it is."

"It does look badass." Jack agreed. "Too bad you cover it up most times."

"As much as I want to, I can't walk around the school shirtless."

"So am I the first one here to see it all?"

"Nope."

"Who saw it?"

"Secret."

Chapter 6: Fox

"Hey, Bran." Natalia said, looking down at the librarian. He was currently sitting under a tree between its roots, book in hand.

"Good afternoon, Natalia." Branigan smiled. Natalia was wearing skinny jeans and a simple t-shirt. "You'll regret not having a jacket in a little bit."

"You can just set your arm on fire again." Natalia smiled. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. Plenty of room under this big, beautiful tree."

He was right. The tree was quite large, with enough space between its thick roots for two people to sit in the same gap without being cramped. Natalia sat down, leaning against one root while Branigan leaned against the other. Above them, the branches did not sway but a leaf here and there fluttered to a gentle breeze. The branches would begin to move as the afternoon turned into evening, and Natalia would regret her outfit like Branigan said. "I looked you up."

Branigan shut his book, using his finger as a bookmark. "What did you find?"

Natalia saw that the leatherbound book had no title on its cover, so it was likely a journal. As he had no pen in hand, Natalia wondered whose journal he was reading. "Lots of photos of you with trophies and medals. Dueling tournaments mainly. But I saw stuff related to spellwork and more nerdy stuff." She said. "I was surprised to see you didn't do a project for the exhibition since you're quite the jack-of-all-trades."

"Master of none."

"Oftentimes better than a master of one."

"Smartass."

"Hello kettle, I'm pot."

Branigan smiled. "An indirect way of calling me a smartass. Can't get in trouble that way."

"I don't think I have to worry about that with you." Natalia said. "You don't seem the type to use your authority to give students detention."

"Other forms of revenge are far more fun."

One side of Natalia's mouth extended in a flirty smirk, a clear glint in her eyes. "What are you going to do to me?"

Not the fragile little doe you come off as. Branigan thought to himself. "I won't be giving that away. Where's the fun in that?"

"True." Natalia rummaged in her backpack and took out a small box. She opened it, revealing a few cookies. "Want one?"

"Of course." Branigan grabbed a cookie off the top and noticed something different about it. "Is that salt?"

"Sea salt!" Natalia said. "Sea salt chocolate chip cookies. Freshly baked by me. The home-ec club lets me use their kitchen in exchange for helping them with homework."

"Interesting." Branigan took a bite and his eyebrows raised. "Oh wow this is amazing. Chewy, just the way I like my cookies. And the salt is a nice, subtle balance to the sweet and makes the chocolate stand out more. I think I'll prefer my chocolate chip cookies this way from now on."

Natalia smiled, clearly pleased that he was enjoying them. She shut the box and set it next to him. "They're all for you."

One of his eyebrows lowered, the other remaining raised. "And to what do I owe this generosity?"

"I was hoping you would help me." Natalia said. "I didn't want to ask for help without doing anything for you so I made you cookies."

"What if I say no?" Branigan took out a second cookie and munched on it.

"Then... Then you won't get the antidote to the poison in the cookies."

"Eh. I'll take the sweet release of death." Branigan shrugged. "Natalia you don't need to bribe me with things for me to help you. Unless you need help cheating. For that, you'll need to bring a bribe. More of these cookies will suffice." Branigan smiled at her. "Or something else."

"I don't cheat." Natalia shook her head, smiling at his smile. "And I'd feel bad if you helped me for free."

"Do you bake all your professors cookies then?" Branigan joked.

"Just for Professor Blackvine and Coach Harmon." Natalia said. "For Professor Grit, I babysit his kids when he and his husband go on a date. And Professor Wayne's personal library can get really cluttered since she always takes books out but never puts them back so I clean it up for... What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?" Natalia rubbed at the side of her lips, wondering if chocolate had rubbed off from when she was taste testing the cookies.

"Natalia... It's our job to help students. You don't need to do all that for us."

"All of you go above and beyond all the time." Natalia said. "It'd be awful if I just accepted your help and did nothing in return."

"How very kind of you." Branigan said. "Well then. How can I earn these cookies you've given me?"

Natalia blushed slightly and seemed to shrink in front of his eyes. An amazing feat considering her already small presence. "It's a bit embarrassing..."

Branigan dusted the crumbs from his vest and sat up straight, but remained casual in his demeanor. "Take your time, Nat."

"Um. Well." Natalia bit her lip, then looked away. After brushing an errant lock of hair from her face, she spoke. "My fein is messed up and it's affecting my magic. Noticeably."

"Well that's not embarrassing." Branigan said. "Perfectly normal for Dra to lose track of their core, especially when they're younger. It's a part of the process."

"I'm not young. I'm 18."

"And you truly think that's old?"

"Not at all. But I think it is too old for a core part of your magic performing process to not be working." Natalia said. "If I can't focus my magic then-"

"Natalia I had this problem towards the end of my time at Foxcastle. I was 18. If we were friends then, would you have said I was too old to be having that problem?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why are you on a separate standard? That's not very fair now, is it?"

"...I guess not."

"Your magical focus is shaken now. You will fix it." Branigan said. "In a few months or years or even decades your fein could get screwed up again. And you will fix it again." He smiled warmly. "It's a part of practicing magic."

"What messed yours up?" Natalia realized that was an extremely personal question. "Oh no don't answer that. I shouldn't have asked... Sorry!"