“Shouldn’t do that.”
“I... really-didn’t mean to fall.”
“Oh, not that. Although you shouldn’t have done that either. I meant breathe.”
“What?”
“Personally, I never breathe except to talk. Too much of a hassle for too little muscle exercise. All that ever happens is that it gets knocked out of you, or you accidentally breathe a noxious smelling vapor.”
“Don’t you need to breathe to live?”
“Nope, we’re energy fields remember. We’re not alive in the normal sense.”
“Then if I’m just an energy field, why do I hurt.”
“Well, that’s a little more complex. Actually you are physical, sort of. We’re mainly condensed energy... actually that’s all matter really is too; but we are just less condensed. Anyway, your demon body does have senses, or something close enough that our mind perceives them as traditional senses. One of these sets of nerve like pathways, or senses, simulates our old pain receptors. This is, of course, for similar reasons, survival etc.; however, in our current forms, it’s not quite so necessary. However, we do still want something to simulate a sense of touch, to gauge pressure. So think of this pain as an overload of those senses. The pain from formation however, that’s something different. That’s more of a spiritual pain, in other words, it hurts because it’s doing something unnatural to your essence or self, and our minds interpret it as pain.
“Interprets my ass,” interjected Tizzy as he came in for a landing, “if it hurts, it’s pain. Plain and simple.”
“Well,” Boggy said, glaring at Tizzy, “whatever you chose to think. You can experience unpleasant sensations, even though you’re not totally material.”
“Yeah,” Tom seemed to be saying that an awful lot, he thought. The pain was finally starting to subside, a little. “So, how do I get out?”
“Raise your arms, and we’ll try and pull you out,” Boggy suggested.
Tom complied, and Boggy grabbed his right arm and Tizzy his left. The two demons launched themselves into the air with all their might and pulled as hard as they could. Slowly and with a lot of effort, Tom began to rise from the dirt. His legs pulled slowly out of the holes, until suddenly, a point was reached, and the earth gave way. The three demons went flying up into the air as the ground reluctantly gave Tom up.
Slowly they settled back down. Tom’s legs, he noticed, appeared to be intact, but they did ache a lot more than they had up on the pillar. In fact, when they set him down, he could not stand. His legs hurt way too much, so he had to kneel on his hands and knees. He found it was too hard to sit directly on the ground with his animal like legs and his long tail.
“I don’t know if I can make it to those mountains, let alone find a cave right now. I’m way too sore and too tired to even really try,” Tom told Tizzy and Boggy.
“No serious problem. I doubt anyone will bother you right here for awhile, if you want to sleep here,” Boggy reassured him. “However, you really need to fly again as soon as possible. Otherwise you may end up too scared to fly, and a demon who can and doesn’t fly has a lot of trouble.”
“Sure, but let me rest first. I really can’t do much more.” Tom was quite serious; he felt almost as if he might pass out from exhaustion. The weariness and pain from formation, which had been temporarily forgotten, was now back in full force; coupled with the pain from the fall and the exhaustion of his wing muscles, it was almost more than he could bear. “You’re starting to sound like my mother.”
Boggy smiled knowingly, “You’re doing good, lad. Most new arrivals would be running around berserk at this point, insisting they were in some sort of dream or hallucinogenic state.”
“Some just go catatonic.” Tizzy interjected.
“Tell you what, Tom my... by the way, Tom, just how old were you, before you got captured, I mean, how old are you now?” Boggy asked as the thought just hit him.
“Sixteen. Why?”
“Sixteen! By the Notorious Dame’s skirts you could almost be British what with your stiff upper lip and all. Right ho! Taking it like a man!”
“Or de-man!” Tizzy exclaimed. Boggy shook his head.
“No reason...” Boggy continued. “As I was about to say, if it will make you feel any better, Tizzy and I will stay here while you sleep, to insure nobody bothers you.”
Tom took Boggy’s reason for asking at face value, he was too tired to do else. He nodded his head thankfully at Boggy’s offer. He then slowly slid his arms and legs out till he was flat on his stomach, and promptly went out like the flames in the air above.
Chapter 8
The school was bustling with servants and staff running about madly, trying to prepare for the expected siege. The morning sun beat down upon the courtyard of the tower, giving a vibrant feeling to the air. Lenamare surveyed his people confidently. His gaze swept the large courtyard, examining the people piling firewood in the corners; carpenters constructing large wooden tanks to hold water in case fires should be ignited in the timber roofs of the stable and forge buildings. Lesser skilled servants and local peasants bringing food and game in from the countryside for supplies; the guardsmen drilling for the defense of the walls. Captain Markoff grilled orders in his typically surly manner, making guard recruits cringe. Here and there a stray dog would yelp as someone carrying supplies or tools would step on its tail or paws when it wasn’t paying attention and got in the way.
His school may not be the biggest, thought Lenamare with pride, but it is certainly one of the strongest. Not only militarily, since Lenamare also ruled a good portion of the land around the school, but more importantly, magically. There were two full masters, Jehenna and himself, three assistant masters, and twenty-five students. Counting the best of the older students, Lenamare had about seven to ten wizards to draw on and of course his own incredible talent, which made the effective number about nine. He had fifty fulltime men-at-arms, forty-five new recruits, and about a hundred peasant men able to fight. Of course, Exador would probably bring about three to four hundred men, but Lenamare’s fortification and his more potent permanent pentacles for summoning demons and conducting other spell craft, evened things out.
Which reminded him; he really should go up and check with Jehenna to see how construction of a talisman for controlling the greater demon was going. He turned around, and entered the narrow door to the tower. He crossed the large great hall in which women were setting up pallets for the wounded and any fleeing peasant folk to sleep. As he neared the center stairwell, he saw Assistant Master Hortwell leading the older students down to the dungeon level to inspect the magical wards that guarded the outer walls of the keep. Lenamare smiled to remember his brilliance in thinking to install permanent wardings for the walls. Now, anytime they were needed, simple spells could bring up powerful defenses to guard the keep.
He nodded to Hortwell, who gave a slight bow back, and continued down the stairs. Lenamare took the stairs up. The stairway was a large gray stone spiral staircase, which climbed from the dungeon levels up to almost the topmost floor. He went up three full revolutions and stopped at the main workroom, where he knew Jehenna to be. He opened the door to his left, the stairwell wound down counterclockwise, like all good defensive spirals, so that men retreating up the stairs, would in the open area in the great hall, have their sword arms free, and the attackers’ would have to put up with the center pole of the spiral. Lenamare again congratulated himself on his inspiring military genius in recognizing the necessary defensive elements, when he designed his tower.
As he opened the door, Jehenna looked up from the table at which she was working. The room was of medium size, designed primarily for the construction of implements of magic. The room was equipped with a small forge, with ventilation, anvils, engraving tools, jewelry tools and many other more esoteric tools. The table at which she was working was filled with engraving tools, and small vials containing powdered jewels.