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  The portal was a swirling mass of darkness, with some hues of grey, green, and purple that circled around like some disgusting brew in a cauldron.

  Monsters—goblins, ogres, trolls, imps—scampered around the town, killing everything in sight. There were still a few people running for their lives, but I could only count seven. The mages were nowhere to be seen, but the scorch mark, raised earth, and the corpse of a giant against one of the homes told me that they’d been there.

  One of the monsters noticed me. It was a small goblin, a regular one with claws instead of axes and more bluish skin. It started for me, and then others followed.

  They charged me. I barely had time to summon my monsters, but I managed. Two axe goblins. They killed their unarmed kin, but a troll, with its massive arms and tall legs, barreled through them. I stumbled back and threw another monster. A wallerdon appeared, its wide body like a stone wall. Its dark skin was hard as stone, made of segmented plates across its torso and back. It shielded me right as the troll punched, then buckled and swayed.

  The wallerdon held against the troll, but it wouldn’t last another hit. I had to think fast. The troll reared back as I threw another crystal. There was a flash as a new monster appeared, a daggerdillo. It had a large body like a pig, armor like an armadillo, and huge metal spikes protruding from its back. It landed on the wallerdon’s shoulder. That’s when those same metal spikes began to protrude from the wallerdon.

  “Now!” I pointed.

  The wallerdon understood. It dodged the troll’s fist and body slammed into its torso to impale the troll with spikes. The weight of the troll sagged against it before the troll finally died and slumped to the ground.

  I pumped my fist and whooped, but I wasn’t done. I returned my monsters to their crystals and assessed the situation. The only monsters I could see were four box ogres and a couple of electric imps. They sensed the death of the troll and the other monsters, could sense my mana, what little I had left. I knew I could deal with them.

  The box ogre lumbered towards me, so I gripped my last four wallerdon crystals and threw for all I was worth. When the wallerdons appeared, they came out at such a speed that when they smashed into the ogres, they smooshed them in a squelch of blood and guts. I yelled triumphantly, and then I returned the monsters to their crystals so I could conserve my strength. As soon as I did, an arc of electricity zipped over my head and blew a chunk out of the brick wall behind me. I scrambled for cover and ducked into an open door that led to a messy kitchen.

  I steadied my breathing and collected myself. The rapid flapping of the imps’ small leathery wings reached my ears as the monsters neared. One hit from those little buggers and I was toast, but I had a plan. A crazy plan, but that’s how my plans usually went.

  With a crystal in hand, I sprinted for the door and out of the house. As the sunlight hit me, I tossed the crystal in front of me. The imps charged up to zap me just as my crystal flashed, and a bullet bass appeared, its round metal body shining a brilliant chrome in the sun. It was shaped like a fish, but instead of scales the bass had stubby little arms and wings that felt like rubber. Perfect for the next attack. The imps shot their lighting at me, but the bullet bass absorbed the shock and sent it right back at the imps, vaporizing them in a heartbeat. I let out a sigh. Catch and release.

  The bullet bass returned to its crystal as I laughed. I’d done it. I’d stopped the monsters and managed to not die in the process. I put a hand to my head, I couldn’t believe it.

  My celebration was short-lived. A tremendous roar resounded from the portal, one so loud that the earth shook beneath. The portal began to expand, taller and wider until it was twice the size of any building and as wide as any house. Two massive rust-colored hands gripped the edges of the rift and out came a monster the size of which I’ve never seen.

  It had to be forty feet tall and half as wide. A cyclops. But not just any cyclops, a fire-eye, evidenced by the licks of flame that danced around its door-sized knuckles. Every curse that Maelor had ever taught me ran through my mind.

  The cyclops wasted no time. It picked up its humongous foot and stepped toward me. I dove at the last second just as the foot hit where I’d stood and broke the earth. Rubble and rock flew and cut my skin. No sooner was I on my feet when the cyclops swiped for me. Once again, I barely missed my death. Very barely. The fire-eye was faster than it looked.

  I summoned a speed slug, gave myself a literal boost, and quickly regained the upper hand. I got a good distance away from it, though it could make up that distance in a step I was sure. It stood up tall and began to summon fire in its fists, but I was faster, and I threw one of my favorite monsters. It materialized and hovered in front of me, looking like a floating ball of blue gas and light—an Ice Willow. I gave it a command and it followed my lead with a squeal.

  It divided itself into four, latched onto the fire-eye’s limbs, and froze it in place. The cyclops looked down in confusion and struggled to free itself. It wouldn’t be held long, so I had to act fast. Luckily, I had the speed slug, so speed wouldn’t be an issue.

  I dug into my bandolier, a plan forming as fast as my hands could move. Four crystals in hand, I chucked them with all my speed-slug enhanced might and commanded them before they were even out. Time seemed to slow. First came a wallerdon, then a daggerdillo that lent its spikes to the walking wall, followed by the same bullet bass as before which made them all metal, and finally, my own electric imp. The imp sent a tremendous arch of lighting through my spiked metal wallerdon, but instead of deflecting it, the bass absorbed the electricity.

  And punched a massive hole through the cyclops’ chest.

  It went clear through, the electrified metal spikes and the speed of the wallerdon turning the cyclops’ rock-hard flesh into barely more than putty. The cyclops stood frozen—by my little icy pets of course—as if it couldn’t comprehend what had happened. And it couldn’t. Its eye rolled back, and its mouth fell open, a massive tongue rolling out. I recalled all my monsters and watched with relief as the cyclops fell back through the fading portal and smashed a whole house in the process.

  As the dust from the crash and the flung-up rubble settled, I found that the portal was gone. The monsters were dead.

  But I wasn’t alone.

  I turned and found a large airship had landed on the edge of town behind me. I hadn’t even noticed it landing amidst the chaos, but it was a large hulking thing, all sleek steel and exhaust ports. Large copper rudders that looked like fish fins extended on the sides and tops of the ship. I’d only seen them in the sky at a distance, never up close like this. That being said, it wasn’t the airship that drew my attention, but the people that had come out.

  It was a full battalion. About twenty soldiers, with guns and swords at the ready, and seven mages, all in variously colored robes. That wasn’t too odd, as the monster had been rather large by any stretch of the word. What was unsettling was the fact that they were all gawking at me, eyes wide and mouths agape. Was I covered in blood and monster guts? Was I just ugly? I looked down at myself. No, no guts. And Anya, the barmaid at the inn, could attest that I was certainly not ugly.

  So why were they staring?

  One of the mages, the one in the lead who I guessed was in charge, strode over to me, his awe gone, replaced with narrow-eyed suspicion. He was tall and regal, with a short and trimmed blonde beard that was starting to grey in spots. He had eyes so white and cloudy that I thought he was blind, but the way he focused on me said otherwise. He held a long walking stick with an essence crystal impeded in the top, a large jagged blue one. A staff, I realized. A rare toy. The mage had the air of an ancient man about him, though he couldn’t have been more than five decades.

  “Who are you, summoner?” His voice was booming and commanding, despite what his slight frame would suggest.

  I suddenly felt like I was in trouble. I gulped. “Uh, you can call me Gryff.”

  “You don’t have a family name?”

  “I
did once, not anymore,” I said with a shrug. “My parents died in a monster attack when I was little. Don’t even remember their names.”

  The mage raised an eyebrow at that, perhaps surprised by my bluntness. In any case, he walked past me and stared off at the slain beast. He stopped a few paces from me and stared at the monster for a long while before he turned back to me. I could see the questions written on his wrinkling cheeks.

  “How did you defeat this creature?”

  It was my turn to arch an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I assume you saw. I just did what any summoner would do in that situation.”

  He chuckled lightly. “No, trust me, boy, any summoner would not do that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They just … wouldn’t.”

  We stared at each other for several moments. I didn’t follow his reasoning. I did find it odd that I never heard of summoner heroes like I did the elementals and the adepts, and I very rarely ever saw a summoner travel with a group of mages. I only ever saw summoners that were like me, laborers.

  It seemed like he may have been thinking of these things too. “You really don’t know what you did, do you?”

  Apparently, I didn’t, so I shrugged and yawned. My eyes ached and my body was sore all over. I wanted desperately for this conversation to be over, but the end didn’t feel near. He leaned in close.

  “I’m Marangur Sleet, Headmaster of the Academy in Varle Enclave, and I’ve never witnessed a summoner do what you just did.”

  I gawked at the man. He was the headmaster. The threat was so great that they’d called Marangur Sleet, the famous Storm Wizard? Should I have bowed? My fatigue was momentarily zapped away as I tried to find the words.

  “I, um, I just did what I thought was smart. Do other summoners not do this?”

  His look was stern but bemused. “Summoning is mostly used for labor and support. In combat, we train summoners who can call on extremely powerful monsters to use all their mana for one attack and they’re done, but often, that isn’t enough. But you … this is different. You’re different.”

  I was flabbergasted. “Thank … thank you, sir?”

  “No, thank you, Summoner Gryff.” He put out his hand to shake, so I shook it.

  “You’re welcome, I guess.” When we finished the shake, he looked at me for a long time, like he was looking into my very soul with those stormy eyes of his. It made me uncomfortable. I scratched at the back of my head and tugged at my knot. “So… you’re just going to be on your way, or are you going to give me a reward or…?” I trailed off.

  He laughed then. “No, Gryff, my dear boy. No, you will be coming with me of course.”

  I took a step back and eyed him. “Uh, where to?”

  “To start your new life. At my Academy.”

  Chapter 2

  I awoke to the rustling of fabric. My eyes cracked open, and I found myself under the low beamed ceiling of my room at the inn. I sat up and saw Anya, the innkeeper’s daughter, at the foot of my bed diligently folding my trousers when I spoke.

  “Ah, Anya. Glad to see you.”

  She flinched and nearly dropped my trousers. She hadn’t realized that I was awake. “Oh, you startled me, Gryff.”

  “Apologies.”

  She gave me a smile that lit up the room. Her long brown hair was fashioned into an elaborate braid this day, and her tawny beige skin blushed as she tried to hide her smile. She sure was a sight. It didn’t help matters that her tight cotton top could barely contain her breasts. She was a petite girl, but she’d been blessed with her mother’s assets.

  Noticing that made me notice something else: that I was completely undressed down to my undergarments. I pulled up my blanket in response, though it wasn’t as if Anya and I were shy about any of that.

  “Why am I unclothed?” I asked, confusion in my voice as I tried to remember going to sleep the night before.

  She did her best to stifle a chuckle. “You were completely filthy when you passed out yesterday. It was only right for me to give them a good wash.”

  “Ah, thank you then.” I sat back and sighed. It had been exceedingly hot yesterday. I still felt rather sore and just … bone tired. I hadn’t worked that hard though. We just cleared that acreage of trees and then—

  I bolted up so suddenly that I startled Anya.

  “Gryff? Are you okay?” she asked, her face filled with alarm.

  “Sorry, I just…” I ran a hand through my hair. That’s when I saw the cut on my wrist, a long, four-inch gash that had been freshly stitched up. “It was a dream, wasn’t it?” I said, though not really at her. “The portal, the monsters, the dead …” All those things swirled in my brain. The cyclops, my beating it. My triumph, and then Marangur Sleet showed up with mages and soldiers in an airship. His request.

  “It had to be a dream,” I said at last. Anya stared at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.

  “Pardon?” she asked, her brows furrowed.

  “I just passed out from exhaustion, maybe a mild case of heatstroke, yeah? I dreamed that monsters destroyed the town.” We stared at each other for what felt like a long time but was probably only a few seconds. Her smile dropped as she pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. That told me all I needed to know.

  “About that ...” she began, but I didn’t let her finish. I jumped out of bed, threw on my pants and shirt, and bolted for the door. She protested, but I ignored her. I hammered down the stairs until I came into the main hall. It was usually lively, but now the windows were broken, and the front door had a hole in it. The hearth at the center was dim. One table was occupied by three people, mages. The same mages that had come with Sleet.

  And then I saw him. The tall wizard sat at a table near the bar, and across from him was Maelor. The only other soul was the innkeeper Maron, who was sweeping up glass and other debris.

  They all looked at me as soon as I came to a halt.

  I slowly approached their table and scratched at my goatee while I powered through a particularly aggressive yawn. “Scuse me,” I told them as I sat down.

  Sleet wouldn’t stop smiling. “It’s quite alright, Gryff.”

  I nodded. Then I looked at him, then at Maelor, then at the mages, and at the damage, and then back to Maelor and Sleet. I folded my arms.

  “So,” I began, “assuming I’m not still dreaming, which if I am please tell me, am I correct in guessing that the events of yesterday actually happened?”

  “Yes, lad,” Maelor said through a burp. His eyes shifted down. “Many good people died, but you saved so many more.”

  “I see.” I nodded. Honestly, the truth wasn’t a comfort. “Excuse me for a moment.” I stood up and walked over to the bar where I promptly hopped over the polished wood counter and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. I returned to the table, popped open the cork and downed several gulps of it, all with Maelor and mister Sleet gawking.

  The burn was terrible, but I needed it desperately. I placed the bottle in front of me. “That’s better.”

  Marangur Sleet simply laughed at that, while Maelor grumbled and shook his head like he was tired of my antics. That was probably true. I could be quite annoying if I really wanted to be.

  “So,” I began, “what were we talking about? I think we’d been talking yesterday, and I don’t recall what about.” I could remember perfectly the conversation from the previous day, but I just needed him to say it, so I knew it definitively.

  Mister Sleet took a sip of his coffee, then cleared his throat. “I believe I was telling you that you would be coming to my Academy, and then you fainted.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I grabbed the whiskey and took two more large gulps. “To clarify, I passed out from exhaustion and mana drain. I didn’t faint.”

  “Whatever you say, mister Gryff,” he replied with a smirk. “At any rate. We should be going soon. We have a—”

  “Whoa whoa. Who said I agreed to go with you?”

  “I did,” Maelor said.

>   “Why?” I pivoted and glared at the old man, who glared right back.

  He ignored me, inclined his head to the wizard, and stood. “Pardon us, headmaster. I’m gonna have a chat with the lad ‘ere.” Before I could protest, he’d hooked his hand around my elbow and dragged me over to the stairwell. Again, before I could get a word out, he poked his fat fingers into my bare chest.

  “You’re goin’. End of discussion.”

  I slapped his hand away. “Why? I thought you hated the academy? You’ve never trusted them.”

  “I don’t hate them. I dislike soft Enclave people who look down on us honest folk who do all the real work while they hide behind their cowardly walls, but I don’t hate them. And I don’t trust the academies, but we need them. It wasn’t right for me, but it’s right for you.”

  “Maelor—”

  “No arguing. You have a gift. Maybe you don’t know what you did out there, but summoners aren’t considered monster slayers. What you did can change that. You can change things.”

  I didn’t understand what he meant. “But why aren’t summoners considered monster slayers? I thought they were all like me.”

  “They’re not, and I don’t have time to have a discussion about it. Point is, you’re going with that headmaster, and you’re gonna show the world how great a summoner can really be.”

  I grumbled, but I also wanted to make Maelor proud. If he wanted me to do this, I knew I should. “Fine.”

  I was reasonably content with my life. I liked to help people, and building with my monsters was the only way I knew how. But if Maelor was right, if I could save lives and maybe show other summoners that they could be more than a laborer, who was I to turn that down? Plus, I’d always wanted to learn more about magic. I barely knew the principles behind what I did, as most of my knowledge had come from the field.

  Maelor clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Good.”

  We returned to the table, and I sat up straight. “I have decided to come with you.” I hadn’t decided anything, but as Maelor said, I was as stubborn as the seven-toed dog.