Realm of the Runes: Blood Right

Chapter XXXIV

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Dennis approached the Academy with less apprehension than he had the first few times, reassured by the knowledge that he was no longer Master Arcus's only student.

Jack's still a pest, though. Hopefully I won't have much to do with him today.

He rapped his knuckles against the door, gritting his teeth as an icy breeze whipped his cloak into a devilish flurry. 

The ghostly boy opened the door, his pale blue eyes almost white in the dim light. 

"Welcome, Dennis. The Master is waiting for you."

Dennis blustered past, grateful to be out of the elements for the time being. His curls flopped annoyingly into his eyes and he swiped them away impatiently. He couldn't resist a sneaky jibe as Jack led the way, the boy's embroidered slippers flapping quietly on the dark stone floor.

"Are you like a doorman or something?" 

"Of sorts," the lad said softly. "I am the wizard's apprentice, which is akin to being a glorified servant in many ways."

Dennis's mischievous mood sobered immediately.

Crapola-laced crabcakes, that has to suck. 

"I don't mind, though," Jack said, almost as if he'd read Dennis's mind. "It is a great honour to attend the Academy of Mageia."

"I suppose so," Dennis grunted. "And you're the next-in-line to the throne or some shit, right?"

"If you mean I will one day be the Master Wizard, then yes," Jack agreed dryly, a hint of humanity showing for the first time.

Dennis had to grudgingly concede that the boy might not be an alien after all.

That doesn't mean he doesn't annoy the hell out of me, he mentally clarified. Just that he's maybe not as weird as I originally thought.

"Where are you from, then?" he asked him, giving up on staying silent as they made their way to the Master's tower. 

"I am from a land you will never have heard of before," he answered ambiguously, his voice floating eerily in the silence of the corridors.

"Great, well that explains a lot," Dennis said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"My race was wiped out by a feudal war," Jack rejoined, that light annoying tone still itching against Dennis's eardrums. "I'm the last of our bloodline, brought here to preserve what knowledge is left of the Fae."

Dennis stopped abruptly, the candles shuddering around them as he stared at the wiry lad.

"You're Fae? Like a fairy?"

Jack's laughter was like dry ice.

"I am not a fairy. Fairies are the size of brownies." A hint of scorn coloured his voice, and Dennis forced himself not to roll his eyes. 

"I'm the last of the Fae, my family were wiped out by the demons of Midras almost a century ago."

"A century? Really. So how are you here now?"

Jack's eyes gleamed an odd blue light.

"How old do you think I am, Dennis?"

He shrugged, looking him up and down.

"I don't know, you don't look any older than me?"

"I am one hundred and fifteen years old," he said, a triumphant note of pride making Dennis want to wipe the smirk off his face. "Fae age incredibly slowly. I was a baby when I came here."